The Center Vote

“I feel like I’m dressed as a giant spinach.”

Ling Tinglan pouted, tugging disdainfully at the green hoodie suit he was wearing.

It was the training uniform for Class D. Both he and Jiao Wangshu had unexpectedly been upgraded to Class D after their reevaluation.

Jiao Wangshu paid no attention to Ling Tinglan’s small complaint. He was immersed in the glee of the storyline update.

Donghai Media had no money or backing. Even though the show intended to use the two of them for traffic, they wouldn’t bother crafting a specific storyline for them—it wasn’t like they actually wanted them to debut.

A dual underachiever growth arc, a childhood-friend CP supporting each other—sounded inspirational and brimming with emotional ties.

After the reclassification, all the trainees were gathered together again.

Everyone sat on the floor. Today was the day the other trainees would vote for the initial center for the theme song. Since “Super Star” was an Asian talent show with contestants from China, Japan, Korea, Thailand, and the West, two centers would be selected: one for the Chinese group and one for the international group, each recording a version of the theme song.

After the reclassification, Class A now had eleven trainees: five Chinese contestants and six foreign contestants, exactly matching the eleven debut slots.

Ling Tinglan scanned the room and frowned. “Why do they all look the same? How are we supposed to vote?”

“Keep your voice down. If other fans hear that, they’ll kill you.”

Jiao Wangshu, constantly on edge all day, still failed to stop Ling Tinglan’s “blunt remarks.”

“Mmm!”

Ling Tinglan’s eyes lit up. “That one’s not bad—his face is actually memorable. Too bad he’s in Class B, so we can’t vote for him.”

Jiao Wangshu followed his gaze and saw Gu Shiwan from Tianhua Culture. Say what you will, Ling Tinglan’s instinct for good looks was incredible—he had spotted Dawn Era’s visual representative in a single glance.

Gu Shiwan supposedly came from a family of opera performers. His childhood training made him stand out in a crowd. At first glance, he might not have the same “inhuman” beauty impact as Ling Tinglan or Jiao Wangshu, but he exuded an indescribable quality—a gentle, jade-like aura typical of a refined noble son.

Frankly, it was quite surprising that someone like him had chosen to become a trainee and join a survival show.

The eleven Class A trainees stood in front of the stage, nervously waiting to be chosen.

Unexpectedly, Jiang Ruyao smiled and said, “Before we vote, let’s give a round of applause for our ‘center candidates’ to show off their skills again and campaign for votes!”

The other trainees immediately responded, “Do it! Do it!”

“If you don’t perform well, we won’t vote for you!”

The mentors were also eager for drama. Rap mentor Han Jiang, always good at creating show effects, grabbed the microphone and stood in the middle.

“Then let’s have a battle.”

Cheers erupted around the room. “Battle! Battle!”

Vocal mentor Qi Sheng also got excited. “If we compete in rap, I won’t agree. We vocalists can’t lose either.”

“Right, right. If we’re competing, let’s all compete. We dancers step up too,” Jin, his Chinese still accented with bits of English, chimed in.

“Then show what you’re best at,” Jiang Ruyao concluded. “Who goes first?”

“PD, I’ll go first.”

The first to volunteer was Ji Yan. His striking red hair, without the support of hair gel today, lay softly against his forehead, slightly covering his eyes and reducing his aggressive edge—but that feeling vanished the moment he started dancing.

Ji Yan performed the theme song. An a cappella accompaniment, perfectly synchronized dance, precise and powerful moves, a stage presence full of personal style…

Unconcealed ambition!

He was using this to tell everyone else that he was the undeniable center!

“Wow.”

Jiao Wangshu’s admiration for the strong surfaced. Indeed, an idol needed ambition to be most attractive. He sighed, slightly dazed. “Truly, comparison kills. He’s the standard for idols. Who else could be the center?”

Hearing Jiao Wangshu’s muttering, Ling Tinglan, who had thought Ji Yan was impressive, pouted. “He’s just barely passable.”

“What? That’s not good enough? If his level is average, what does that make us?”

Jiao Wangshu mumbled softly, “I wonder who was doing ‘boxing’ with me on stage back then…”

“What did you say?”

Ling Tinglan’s brows shot up. “I said he’s not good. I think he’s worse than that pink-haired guy in the back!”

Jiao Wangshu followed his finger and saw a delicate-looking boy with slightly curly pink hair. His hair color was a touch lighter than Class A’s pink training uniform, which accentuated his “doll-like” vibe.

Just then, as if sensing the unfamiliar gaze, Jiao Wangshu’s eyes unexpectedly met the boy’s clear gaze.

Startled, Jiao Wangshu felt an inexplicable guilt for gossiping behind someone’s back. He quickly changed the subject, turning to Ling Tinglan. “You sure know how to pick ‘em. That’s Su Xingran from Orange Wind Entertainment. He’s ranked second in real time, going back and forth with first-place Ji Yan.”

“Probably the final center for our Chinese group will be either him or Ji Yan.”

“Then I’ll vote for him!” Ling Tinglan declared decisively.

Just then, Ji Yan turned the stage over to Su Xingran for his campaign performance. As they passed each other, they high-fived in encouragement.

The camera immediately zoomed in. Any fool could tell this clip would definitely make it into the main episode.

Jiao Wangshu was so envious he almost shed little pearls. He racked his brains all day to sell bromance, but it could never match the official push.

Everyone knew that survival shows thrived on CPs. CPs were the fastest way to generate traffic and cash. Now in “Super Star,” among the dozens or even hundreds of CPs, the most popular were Ling Tinglan and Jiao Wangshu’s “Lingjiao” CP, and Ji Yan and Su Xingran’s “Yanxing” CP.

Ling Tinglan and Jiao Wangshu made their mark purely with their looks. The situation with Ji Yan and Su Xingran was more complicated.

Similar ages, backed by big companies, solid fan bases, and neither lacking in skill or appearance—both were guaranteed to debut. It could be said that they and their fans weren’t fighting over debut slots, but over the final center position.

As each other’s biggest rivals, Ji Yan and Su Xingran seemed to get along quite harmoniously, but their fans were a different story. They saw each other as archrivals.

Even before the first episode aired, these two fan groups had fought countless battles across various forums, communities, and groups. If any fan dared to ship the “Yanxing” CP, they’d be blacklisted by both sides’ anti-fan squads. They say hate lasts longer than love—whether toxic fans truly love their idols is debatable, but they definitely hate the rival fans.

Yet the more this happened, the more rebellious some became. A crowd shouted, “My rival is my wife!” and rushed in, chewing on bittersweet candy amidst the war-torn battlefield, only fueling the CP’s popularity.

The show didn’t care. As long as there was traffic and they could push whoever they wanted, they were determined to make this CP an official “America’s sweetheart.”

What could be done? Even if the solo fans were unhappy, they couldn’t charge forward right now. CP promotion—fan absorption—purification. They were still stuck at the absorption stage. They could only state their opposition to the CP for now. Some secretly created alt accounts to lead the shipping, waiting until the fandom purification stage to see who truly had the “heart.”

Anyway, the campaign performances ended quickly.

First came the vote for the international group’s theme song center. The rule was: stand behind the trainee you support as center.

The six foreign contestants stood in front with their eyes closed.

Jiao Wangshu walked straight behind Chunshan Cou. He remembered this contestant got a B in the initial stage and was upgraded to A in reevaluation. During the campaign performance, Chunshan Cou had done a street dance routine that made Jin so excited he jumped up.

Ling Tinglan followed suit.

But in the end, the international group’s initial center was a Korean contestant—Bian Hamin. He was tall but his appearance was somewhat ordinary—not that he was ugly, just a classic Korean look, the type you’d find in every boy group.

Next came the Chinese group’s center vote.