The Vote for the Center

The other trainees on stage were nervously waiting to be chosen, but in such a tense atmosphere, there are always those who want to stir up some fun.

Zhou Che from Zhongxing Entertainment shut his eyes and shouted, “Watch my ‘Star-Sucking Technique’!”

Then he stretched out his arms, opening them wide like a hen shooing chicks, and corralled quite a few trainees.

The tension instantly dissolved. The trainees he chased around the room laughed and cursed, “Help! He’s grabbing people in broad daylight!”

“PD Jiang, do something!”

“Zhou Che, you can’t cheat like this!”

“Don’t pull my clothes! I’ll vote for you, okay!”

…

Surprisingly, his antics actually managed to “win over” a few votes. But don’t celebrate just yet—he lost far more than he gained.

Xiang Xiaoyu, firmly locked in his embrace, struggled and shouted to his teammate who had originally voted for Zhou Che:

“Brother Lu Xiao! Run! I’ve been controlled by this ‘evil’ force and I can’t help myself! Don’t you ‘fall from grace’! Don’t vote for this bastard!!!”

Seeing him act so tragically heroic, Lu Xiao could barely stand from laughing. Xiang Xiaoyu’s pitiful yet funny appearance made him promise repeatedly, “Okay, okay! I won’t vote, I won’t vote! I won’t vote for him!”

Zhou Che immediately objected, “No, no, no! Brother Lu! You can’t ‘abandon the light for the dark’! We’re just messing around. Once the votes are counted, I’ll return little brother Xiaoyu to you!”

But that still didn’t stop Lu Xiao from walking toward others.

Meanwhile, Jiao Wangshu followed his plan and chose to vote for Ji Yan.

Up close, Ji Yan’s face had only a light layer of foundation, possibly applied by himself, looking uneven like a little kitten that had rolled in flour. The fine hairs on his cheek shone in the sunlight, short and soft, making him look like a big peach.

Jiao Wangshu realized that Ji Yan was actually just a little over seventeen. It was just that the kid’s stage presence was so strong, his star aura so dense, that it was hard to match him with his real age.

But now, with his hair down, he obediently closed his eyes and sincerely greeted and thanked every trainee who voted for him. His manner was natural and genuine—it was impossible not to feel a soft spot in your heart.

Li Shu and his company’s trainee, Ye Zhile, also chose Ji Yan. Seeing Jiao Wangshu approach, Ye Zhile quickly said to Li Shu, “Li Shu, your roommate is here. You two can stand together.”

With that, he twisted his head and backed away, leaving the spot for Jiao Wangshu, using Li Shu’s body to block himself from the camera.

By the time Li Shu realized what happened, Jiao Wangshu had already nodded to him from the front. He looked at his unreliable teammate, who was now that the camera wasn’t on him, pulling out a compact powder puff and patting his face—touching up his makeup!

Li Shu’s heart was in tears, his mind a stampede of wild alpacas. What a schemer, Ye Zhile! You sneakily compete in looks while making me the green leaf beside my ‘god roommate’!

Meanwhile, Ji Yan was a bit surprised that Jiao Wangshu voted for him.

“Thank you for voting for me.”

He hadn’t expected Jiao Wangshu to vote for him. Real relationships are practical; they’re not like the show’s harmonious portrayals. Acquaintances stick with acquaintances, the upper circle with the upper circle—everyone has their own social circles. That’s the norm.

Moreover, outsiders might not know that the trainee circle is actually very small. Many who seem unrelated may have crossed paths somewhere before—maybe they once took a dance class together, were alumni, or trained at the same company…

Only Ling Tinglan and Jiao Wangshu were the “variables”—two true rookies. With their profile photos that showed them “committing visual crimes with their sheer beauty,” a debut stage that “broke out through humor,” and the childhood friend CP gimmick of helping their uncle pay off his debts, they gained unexpected buzz.

Some trainees coveted it and wanted to get close for exposure, but standing next to them inevitably invited comparison. The pressure was huge!

Plus, Ling Tinglan and Jiao Wangshu were inseparable day and night, with no opportunity to strike up a conversation. So it was no surprise that after days in the training camp, they were hardly familiar with anyone.

But if Jiao Wangshu’s vote was surprising, Ling Tinglan’s choice was downright bewildering to everyone.

“Is hell freezing over?! He didn’t choose the same as Jiao Wangshu this time?”

“Don’t they do everything together?”

…

Li Shu muttered, “Did they have a fight?”

It wasn’t weird for Li Shu to wonder. As the only mortal in “No Man’s Land,” he had plenty to say about their clinginess. They’d share a pajama set—one wearing the top, the other the pants—split a burger—one eating the bun, the other the patty—and even hold hands when going to the bathroom!

It was freakish! If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, and if they weren’t the same with others, Li Shu might have thought they were ganging up on him.

Daily life was even more so: whatever Jiao Wangshu did, Ling Tinglan followed. Even a shadow didn’t stick that close. Li Shu feared that if Jiao Wangshu ever stopped suddenly, Ling Tinglan would step on his heel!

So seeing them make different choices for the first time was shocking.

Ling Tinglan, however, was oblivious. Expressionless, he stood behind Su Xingran.

Su Xingran took the initiative to chat with him with a smile, “I really didn’t expect you to vote for me. Thank you for choosing me.”

“Mm.”

Ling Tinglan responded flatly, feeling a bit puzzled. He and Su Xingran weren’t close, were they?

It was a very ordinary sentence, but his tone sounded strange, as if they were familiar.

Thinking this, Ling Tinglan’s gaze unconsciously moved to Su Xingran, only to find him still smiling back at him.

Feeling creeped out by the gaze, Ling Tinglan shivered involuntarily—why did he feel like he was being targeted?

After a round of “melee,” all trainees had made their choices.

Jiang Ruyao glanced around, “Wow, looks like the competition is fierce.”

Indeed, all five candidate trainees had people behind them, but for most, the numbers were sparse, easily countable at a glance. Only Ji Yan and Su Xingran had larger groups behind them, making it hard to tell who had more at first.

Some quick-witted trainees counted on their fingers, “Looks like… a tie?”

But the suspense didn’t last long. Soon, the vote tally was in Jiang Ruyao’s hands.

Seeing the result, Jiang Ruyao raised an eyebrow in surprise, “Only a one-vote difference?”

“Then I declare that the theme song center for our Chinese Group is—

from Tianhua Culture, trainee Ji Yan!”