Quentin stayed in the practice room, dancing intermittently for over three hours. When tired, he would sit against the wall, and massage his legs by pounding them.
His stamina now was much better than when he first arrived at the program. He could already sing and dance stably with live vocals for three or four consecutive songs without losing his breath.
Of course, this was under extreme circumstances where he pushed his physical limits. If he really had to dance four songs in a row, he would still be completely exhausted afterward.
“Screech…”
The wooden door of the practice room was pushed open from outside, and a fluffy head peeked in.
“Yo, Quentin, you really are here.”
Seeing the boy sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor, Xue Mingzhu’s eyes lit up. He strode over holding a selfie stick: “Look at all this sweat, how long have you been practicing?”
Quentin massaged the flesh of his calves as he replied: “About three and a half hours.”
Xue Mingzhu bent his knees and squatted down, adjusting the selfie stick so the camera could capture both of them: “Here, help me check this angle. Is my outfit today handsome?”
The boy in the camera was wearing a white headband with red letters on it. His hair was messy, sticking out in all directions. His face was clean, without any makeup. His dark, bright eyes met Quentin’s gaze through the screen, sparkling with life.
Quentin: “…….. Handsome.”
“Good taste! I saved up my pocket money for three months in high school to buy this headband. I never had the heart to wear it before.”
Xue Mingzhu raised his hand and tugged at the headband, letting out a disgruntled low snort from his nose: “Only that tasteless guy Yan Qiao doesn’t know how to appreciate it… Do you know what he said about me?”
“He said I look like the local dog that the security guard uncle keeps.” He ground his molars, seeming furious. “Hmph, he was just saying I’m tacky!”
The security room at the filming base had a lively, energetic, and noisy black long-haired local dog that was often tied up. Every night, it would take walks along the path between the practice rooms and the dormitory building. Over time, it became familiar with the trainees.
In Quentin’s memory, that black dog had strong, agile limbs and was very intelligent. Its only flaw was that its fur was always dirty, as if it had just been rolling around in the grass. Its long fluffy hair was always mixed with soil and dust.
When the wind blew, it transformed from a brave and agile guard dog into a disheveled little local dog in the wind.
Staring at Xue Mingzhu in the camera lens, whose hair was sticking straight up because of the headband, Quentin somehow understood the similarity Yan Qiao mentioned.
“Pfft.”
Xue Mingzhu turned his head in confusion: “Did you just laugh?”
Quentin: “Huh?”
Xue Mingzhu stared at the face which was handsome even while sweating. Not fooled by the beauty so close at hand, he said with certainty: “You definitely laughed just now!”
There were only the two of them in the practice room. If that laugh didn’t come from Quentin, could it have been a ghost laughing?
The green-eyed boy shrugged nonchalantly, his fingers idly spinning a water bottle on the floor: “What’s wrong with laughing? Yan Qiao meant that after you put on the headband, your hair is as messy as a dog’s, not that you’re tacky.”
Quentin had lived abroad for over ten years and rarely interacted with native Chinese speakers in daily life. This resulted in him speaking concisely and directly, even more straightforward than when he spoke English.
The words “tactful” never existed in his dictionary.
If Yan Qiao said he looked like a dog, Xue Mingzhu would have slammed the door in anger and left. But now, being pointed out so bluntly by Quentin, Xue Mingzhu didn’t get upset at all. Instead, he readily followed Quentin’s line of thought: “Messy hair?”
He frowned, looking doubtful: “So I misunderstood him? He just wanted to remind me my hair was messy?”
‘Really? Was Yan Qiao that nice? He found it hard to believe.’
Xue Mingzhu carefully examined himself in the selfie camera lens, raising his hand to fiddle with his hair, muttering: “It’s not that messy, is it……”
After fussing for a while without achieving any improvement, he grew lazy and decided to leave it as it was. Anyway, he thought it looked fine.
“Hey, aren’t you curious why I came looking for you at this time?” The boy leaned sideways, his left hand pressing on Quentin’s right knee, and gestured with his chin towards the GoPro: “I’m starting my live stream in about ten minutes, you know.”
Quentin looked at him thoughtfully: “You want to do the live stream with me?”
“Snap!”
Xue Mingzhu snapped his fingers cheerfully: “Yes! I thought about it for a long time by myself and couldn’t figure out what would be good to live stream. So I came to ask you for a favor, help me make up the numbers and liven up the livestream atmosphere. What do you think?”
“I don’t mind. Did you ask the director?” Quentin glanced at the clock on the wall. “I plan to keep dancing until twelve and then go to the cafeteria to eat. Are you going to practice along too?”
“Don’t worry, I asked. Director Wang said it’s up to us. As long as we don’t reveal spoilers or broadcast prohibited content, we can do whatever we want.”
Xue Mingzhu looked at the boy before him with eager eyes: “Practicing dance is fine. I’ll follow along with you, I’ll just stand next to you. And we can put this GoPro on that table over there, okay?”
Quentin gave a noncommittal “Mhm”: “I’m fine with anything. Actually, if we’re counting, I’m the one using your live stream camera. Besides, dancing isn’t your strong suit. Think it through yourself.”
“Come on, who cares about that.” Xue Mingzhu pouted, shaking his head as he spoke. “It’s no secret that I never learned to dance. And I really don’t know what to stream. This thing doesn’t even let us see the live stream chat. Am I supposed to entertain myself talking to a camera? That’s just awkward, I can’t do it.”
He got up from the floor holding the selfie stick, walked over to the table against the wall, and adjusted the GoPro’s angle before setting it on the table: “It’s 10:49 now, eleven minutes until the live stream starts. We’ll end right at twelve and go eat together. I heard they have egg noodles for lunch today. It’s a rare chance not to eat grass! This time, I’m definitely having two big bowls!”
*
October 3rd, 11:00 AM.
On the homepage of the spin-off program “NS-Live Stream Room,” twenty small windows lit up on time.
The numbers in the upper right corner of each live stream room, representing the “real-time popularity value,” jumped up rapidly, forming a clear and distinct ranking gap within just five minutes.
These twenty windows refreshed every half hour based on changes in the popularity value ranking. Currently, Wen Xinyi was undoubtedly ranked first, closely followed by Zhou Zilin.
Xue Mingzhu’s live stream room was at the end of the first row, with a popularity value hovering around 54,000.
The real-time popularity value had its own complex algorithmic formula, but the core influencing factors were nothing new: real-time viewer count, user retention rate, number of chat messages, and so on.
The trainees in the live streams couldn’t see their own popularity ranking, but they could see the specific popularity value. They could judge whether their stream content was well-received based on changes in the number.
Of course, such direct data surges and declines tested the streamer’s mentality, especially when they couldn’t see the chat messages.
[Xue Mingzhu’s Live Stream Room]
[Is it time? Why is it still black?]
[Internal Combustion Engine, you kid… It’s been two years, no updates on the forum, no new light music uploads. I thought you quit without a word, and now it turns out you came to a boy group survival show, huh]
[Without two years of accumulation, where would the fig leaf of the Rapping Circle to cover your academic background come from (bushi)]
[I really don’t get why you’re abandoning your perfectly good rap career to become some idol, insisting on attracting a bunch of fangirls to mess up the Rapping Circle atmosphere???]
[Help, someone deal with these noble Rapping Circle folks]
[If you want to fight, go to the forums.. Why show off here in the chat]
[Reported for inciting arguments, blacklisted, you’re welcome]
Chat messages scrolled one after another across the black screen of the live stream room.
The next second, the screen suddenly lit up, and an enlarged face completely occupied the entire screen.
[Holy crap]
[What the hell, you scared me]
“Yo, everyone, this is Xue Mingzhu, aka Internal Combustion Engine, a trainee on the ‘Next Stage’ survival show. Welcome to my live stream channel.”
The boy’s deep voice rang out in the live stream room. The tone of his voice was really good, a thick voice wrapped in a metallic magnetism. At first sound, it was like being zapped by an electric current.
Xue Mingzhu bent over, half-squatting in front of the GoPro. After his one-sentence self-introduction, he raised his hand and made a peace sign in front of his forehead. Staring at the camera, he smoothly launched into a well-prepared opening… a catchy rap.
Due to the height difference, the low-angle camera lens produced just the right amount of distortion.
The boy wearing the red-and-white headband used hand gestures to keep his own beat, managing to deliver an authentic Hip-hop vibe even without accompaniment.
Especially with this overlooking-from-above perspective, in addition to his fierce and arrogant eyes, it looked incredibly cocky.
The people arguing in the chat all fell silent, replaced by a stream of uniform howls of praise flooding the screen.
But the person in question couldn’t receive the strong emotions from the chat. After finishing his rap, he paused for two seconds, gave a slight smirk, and muttered quietly: “So awkward… Why can’t we see the chat?”
Most professional rappers are very good at using language to stir up the atmosphere on site and can freely interact with the audience impromptu. But at the same time, they also really need the audience’s emotional feedback; otherwise, no matter how fast they talk, it’s just boring self-indulgence.
Xue Mingzhu really didn’t know what good stuff he could come up with facing a black lens. You can’t just chat dryly like this.
In fact, the production team’s original intention for setting up the “NS-Live Stream Room” was merely to provide viewers with a close-up “companion view,” an immersive way to watch the trainees’ daily lives. They didn’t require the trainees to be like professional streamers, constantly creating content and fostering a lively streaming atmosphere.
But Xue Mingzhu, who had a few streamer friends in real life, clearly misunderstood the production team’s purpose.
“Mmm, good morning, audience friends in the live stream room. Let me explain in advance: I can’t see the chat messages you send on my end. So I can’t chat with you, and I don’t know what you want to see me stream.”
Xue Mingzhu explained seriously: “Usually, we’re all in class at this time, alternating between dance and vocal lessons. Today is a streaming day, so we have the day off.”
“I’ve been thinking about what to stream ever since I got the GoPro, but…Ahem, I couldn’t come up with anything. Umm, so I had to find a temporary backup.”
He took a few steps back, allowing the camera to capture half of the practice room. Then he reached into the camera’s blind spot and pulled out a boy wearing a flashy T-shirt.
“Let me introduce everyone. This is my good friend that I met on ‘Next Stage.’ His name is Quentin. He took the college entrance exam in the same year as me, but he’s a year younger than me.”
Xue Mingzhu casually threw his arm over Quentin’s shoulder, racking his brains to say all the words he could think of at once: “Audience friends who know me probably already know that I never learned to dance. It’s hard for me to keep up with the other trainees’ progress. Usually, it’s all thanks to Quentin who practices with me every day. Don’t look at his young age, he’s my golden thigh!”
As he spoke, he turned his head to look at the boy’s profile that was close to his, a trace of unconscious laughter in his voice.
“Today’s the same. The two of us plan to practice dancing until twelve. We’ll go eat when the live stream ends.”
After saying this, he patted Quentin’s shoulder a couple of times, not too lightly nor too heavily, and glanced at the camera: “Without further delay, let’s start right away!”
[…]
[A rapper streaming himself dancing…]
[Quentin, huh… So Little Chicken and Quentin really are close. I thought the show was just pushing a CP.]
[Wait, Little Chicken, are you serious??? We’re here to watch your stream! Your personal live stream room, why bring someone else???]
[It’s fine, it’s fine, Little Chicken can bring whoever he wants. It’s fine as long as we get to see Chicken [Pitiful] It’s better than those two years of being an orphan and widow [Tears]]
[Holy crap, why??? Internal Combustion Engine, do you really not know what we like to watch? Have you forgotten you’re a rapper?!]
Most of Xue Mingzhu’s fans were old fans retained from two years ago, predominantly male, but there were also quite a few female fans.
There had always been a barrier between the rap circle and the idol circle. The two sides generally maintained a relationship of “well water doesn’t interfere with river water”… and once they interfered, they’d start mocking each other.
Therefore, it wasn’t until the main “NS” episodes aired that fans from the rap circle suddenly found out from hot searches that Internal Combustion Engine, who had been suspected of retiring from the circle after the uproarious “sleeping with fans” scandal on a rap reality show two years ago, had suddenly appeared on a boy band survival show!
Thus, the discussion group for Internal Combustion Engine, which had been silent for two whole years, quickly saw a surge of posts.
Those big fans who didn’t believe Internal Combustion Engine slept with fans, and didn’t believe he would give up his beloved rap career and quit the circle, were successively @’ed. Then, forced by the escalating arguments within the group, they had to accept the fact that their favorite young rapper had gone to become an idol trainee.
Some left angrily and unfollowed, but more chose to stay.
Two years had passed, and the boy with a childish face had unknowingly grown into a young man. The 1.6m tall bean sprout had turned into a tall, slender 1.8m young man. His features had also matured, not as cute as before at first glance, but with more of a rebellious, arrogant handsomeness.
The Xue Mingzhu on the “NS” initial stage was very different from the Internal Combustion Engine in fans’ memories. The sense of distance brought by time was hard to erase. They seemed to have become strangers overnight.
Disappointment, melancholy, doubt, heartache…
Complex emotions fermented bit by bit in the fans’ hearts, finally erupting when the live stream started.
Emotional fans stirred the chat into a chaotic state. The overwhelmed rational fans tried to persuade them to no avail, frantically reporting messages left and right.
For a moment, no one paid attention to what the main subject of the live stream was doing.
Until five minutes later, the number in the upper right corner suddenly surged sharply, jumping directly from five digits to six digits!
A group of chat messages from unclear origins came flooding in, forcibly suppressing the out-of-control chat.
[I heard QT is playing in this live stream, let me see [Star-eyed]]
[What’s going on here?]
[Oh oh oh, dancing? Is it dancing!!!]
[Dancing, yay! Xiao Xue and Xiao Q streaming together!! I wouldn’t even dare dream this [Tears]]
[Babies here to see Quentin, please pay attention to chat etiquette. [No] meaningless spamming! [No] pulling others down to elevate someone! This isn’t QT’s home ground, respect the other trainees [Heart]]
[Oh my goodness, Xiao Q, what are you wearing again? This big T-shirt, do you love oversize this much? So colorful, a tie-dye T-shirt?]
[Why so much sweat [crying] How long has he been practicing? Is the baby tired?]
[But, I have to say, the damp look is so suggestive…]
The Xue fans in the live stream room took a while to come back to their senses. Staring at the exaggerated “645,097” in the upper right corner, they were speechless.
In the moments of their silence, “645,097” shot up to “723,885”.
[…]
[?]
[Uh]
[666]
***Xue Mingzhu’s nickname “Little Chicken” is probably because his surname “Xue” (薛) is homophonic with “xue” (鸡) that means “chicken”.
