After choosing the demos, Yang Xu took out a stack of neatly cut blank paper cards from his jacket and, like magic, pulled a handful of markers from his pocket.
He smiled and beckoned to everyone. “Don’t just stand there, come get your things. One sheet per person. There are only four pens, so just take turns.”
Quentin was the last to step forward. Just as he got his paper, he heard Yang Xu explain, “You all heard Teacher Vinki downstairs earlier, right? Your teammates will enter your teams through keyword blind selection. But the songs for this performance are still at the most basic demo stage. Before the composition is finished, no one knows what style the final song from these demos will be or what keywords could summarize it…”
“So, what the keywords are depends on you, as the team leaders.”
After hearing this, several team leaders were surprised. Some had been worried that the production team would set traps with the keywords, but in the end, the keywords were actually to be written by themselves.
For this performance, was the production team letting loose and handing all decision-making power to the trainees?
“However, remember one thing: these keywords are tied to your initial thoughts after getting the demo, what kind of song you want to create with it, not slogans to advertise yourselves and recruit strong teammates.”
Yang Xu said in a joking tone, “Team leaders, please don’t hint at your identities in the keywords or write things unrelated to the song. Otherwise, I won’t mind helping you choose keywords. Our production team has a very ample backup keyword library.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Bi Xiao raised his hand to ask, “Can I directly write ‘rap group’ in the keyword?”
This question prompted several boys around to look up at Yang Xu.
Clearly, compared to vague keywords for original songs, everyone preferred using “vocal group,” “dance group,” or “rap group” to choose teammates.
However, how could the production team leave such a loophole? The core of the second public performance was “original composition,” different from the first performance which allowed everyone to freely form groups to showcase their strengths.
Whether you’re a great dancer or a great vocal, you have to obediently focus on creation with teammates who have diverse strengths.
After receiving a negative answer, the team leaders lowered their heads in frustration, clutching the white paper and racking their brains in deep thought.
Yang Xu casually reminded them, “You only have five minutes to think. The classmates downstairs are still waiting. A simple keyword shouldn’t be too difficult for you all, right? There are only five days until the official performance. You still have to lead your teammates to finish writing a song and rehearse a stage performance in five days.”
Lu Kui frowned and muttered, “Teacher Yang, please don’t add salt to the wound. This burden is too heavy, I can’t even straighten my back.”
A hand suddenly reached out from the side, a thin silver chain wrapped around the wrist, covering the blue veins visible under the skin, yet making the skin tone appear even whiter.
“Can I borrow the marker?” Quentin asked.
Lu Kui instinctively handed the pen over. Before he could even speak, he saw the other person prop the paper with his palm and write the keyword stroke by stroke.
“Star, Star, Fire?” (Xing Xing Zhi Huo. No reason, I just included the pinyin translation, could be useful later)
Yang Xu took the note Quentin handed over and examined it carefully. “How did you think of this word? Is your upcoming song going to revolve around ‘A single spark can start a prairie fire’?”
His question came suddenly, but Quentin answered calmly. “More or less. The first impression this demo gave me was passionate and tragic, with a very intense rhythm, and a sense of inexhaustible, enduring power.”
Yang Xu looked into the calm, indifferent green eyes of the boy standing before him and couldn’t help but praise, “The mind of a college entrance exam student really works fast. You had an idea in less than a minute. Alright, your keyword is approved. To prevent anyone from recognizing your handwriting, I’ll copy them all over for you later.”
Quentin nodded and turned to walk towards the corner of the group. Halfway there, Yan Qiao reached out and grabbed him.
Yan Qiao’s paper was still blank. Holding the paper and pen in one hand, he draped his other arm over Quentin’s shoulder. Watching Zhou Zilin, the next person who finished his keyword, step forward to face Yang Xu’s questions, he avoided the cameras and whispered, “That ‘star fire’ of yours, are you sure it’s not hinting at ‘him’?”
Quentin didn’t speak, just looked back quietly with his eyes.
Yan Qiao understood instantly, chuckled slowly, and teased, “Secretly opening the back door? And you fooled the mentors and the production team. You really…”
Quentin blinked. “I didn’t lie either. This really is the keyword for my song.”
“I know you’re not lying…” Yan Qiao sighed, lazily admitting, “I’m just a bit jealous. Xue Mingzhu’s luck is really good.”
That guy didn’t brag in vain when he returned to the dorm last night. He was even humming happily in the shower, the sound completely drowning out the noise of the water.
At the time, Yan Qiao sitting outside just found it noisy. Thinking back today, and putting himself in those shoes, if he could get Quentin to openly open the back door for him, he’d be even more smug than Xue Mingzhu.
Such blatant favoritism…aside from Xue Mingzhu, had anyone else in the entire “NS” received it?
…….
“Xue Mingzhu, you can go upstairs now.”
Vinki, who was sitting on a chair with his legs crossed, saw a message pop up in the group chat on his phone and looked up towards the crowd. “Other trainees, don’t worry. Although there are many of you, choosing a keyword isn’t like choosing a song. There’s no need to agonize, it’ll be over quickly.”
Xue Mingzhu didn’t have many familiar friends in other classes. Originally sitting alone and cross-legged against the wall, he quickly got up when called, and under the envious gazes of those around, strode out of the practice room.
“He probably wants to be in Quentin’s team too, right?”
“Of course. He and Quentin have a great relationship. If he hadn’t been a team leader in the first performance, he probably would have followed Quentin.”
“Hmm… not necessarily? Doesn’t he want to do rap? Quentin probably won’t do rap, right?”
The scattered discussions of the others sitting together gradually faded away. Under the guidance of staff, Xue Mingzhu quickly arrived on the third floor.
He stood in the center of the third-floor hall, facing a row of bright, neat floor-to-ceiling windows. Ten rooms were arranged in a semicircle around the hall.
Yang Xu leaned against a pillar, looked towards him and smiled. “Xue Mingzhu? You came quite fast. Come take a look. Which keyword do you want to choose?”
Xue Mingzhu quickly walked over. When he wasn’t making expressions, he looked quite fierce, but his eyes were dark and bright. The stray hair swept back by his headband flew backwards, like a herding dog galloping across the prairie.
Yang Xu had one hand in his pocket, the other pointing to several doors one by one. “‘Deep Sea’, ‘Graduation Party’, ‘Adventure Island’, ‘First Love Stories’, ‘Rock Youth’… These words were all written by the team leaders themselves based on the songs. According to them, they all have their reasoning.”
He turned to see Xue Mingzhu’s reaction, only to find the boy’s gaze fixed on a white wooden door. The card hanging on the door plate clearly read four characters.
“‘Star Fire’? You liked this one as soon as you saw it?” Yang Xu asked in surprise.
He knew Xue Mingzhu and Quentin were close. After all, the mentors weren’t offline; he had seen some of the discussions about the show on forums.
Yesterday, Vinki had talked to him about the hot searches Quentin had been on recently, and also mentioned the extraordinarily strong CP aura of that exceptionally talented young man.
This was something many boy band members desperately wanted. How could they not know how beneficial CP popularity could be, but unfortunately, not everyone can get the chance to eat that rice.
As for Xue Mingzhu and Quentin… honestly, Yang Xu was quite surprised these two could be paired up.
There was no age gap or size difference. Their way of interacting, in Yang Xu’s view, was no different from the typical close friends you see everywhere in high school…too straightforward, intimate but not ambiguous. On the contrary, he could sense some CP chemistry between Yan Qiao and Quentin instead.
Xue Mingzhu grinned, gesturing with his chin towards that door. “Yes, I choose that one.”
The smugness in his brows and eyes was almost overflowing. “Teacher, don’t you think this word is tailor-made for me? ‘Star fire’ (Xing Xing Zhi Huo) is just a bright candle flame (Ming Zhu Huo), right? The reference is too obvious!”
Ha, it was clearly a secret signal Quentin left specifically for him!
Xue Mingzhu was extremely pleased.
He even had the leisure to grumble secretly, thinking with a touch of smugness, ‘Quentin still made it too obvious. Who wouldn’t see through it? What if someone accused us of cheating?’
“…”
Yang Xu stared at the keyword on the door plate, deep in thought.
‘Hmm… Was that what Quentin meant?’
“Alright, then go ahead. Once inside, don’t shout or scream.” Yang Xu reminded him. “Although our rooms are soundproofed well, things like knocking to hint or anything are not allowed.”
“Mm-hmm, got it, got it. Don’t worry, teacher.”
Xue Mingzhu nodded repeatedly, eagerly running towards the door, and without hesitation, pressed the door handle.
He didn’t feel a shred of nervousness or anxiety, only full of anticipation.
Bang!
The door was pushed open violently. The boy with his back to the door was standing in front of the mirror, practicing dance moves.
The white shirt and red pants were a common outfit, and the slightly long black hair almost completely covered the nape of his neck. The dark blue baseball cap pressed down all the easily frizzy strands.
When this familiar figure came into view, it took less than half a second of thought. Xue Mingzhu didn’t even close the door before launching himself like a cannonball and flying towards Quentin.
This series of actions happened in less than three seconds. Hearing the noise, Quentin subconsciously looked up and abruptly saw the wild, clawing figure of a boy approaching him in the mirror.
He didn’t even have time to turn around, only relying on instinct to predict Xue Mingzhu’s next move and wisely tightened his core…
Thump!
A dull collision sound was muffled between their tightly pressed chests and backs.
Without any rehearsal or warning, Xue Mingzhu just jumped onto Quentin’s back without any buffer, arms tightly circling Quentin’s neck, legs clamping onto Quentin’s waist from behind.
He hunched his back, his chin resting on Quentin’s shoulder and cheek pressed against the other party’s ear, letting out an excited, hearty laugh.
“Haha, I knew it would be you! I even dreamed about us being on the same team last night! We were destined to be together for the second performance! Hahahaha!”
The sound was too loud. Yang Xu who was standing at the doorway witnessed this whole series of actions. He dared swear that every trainee from the first floor to the third floor could hear this kid’s unrestrained laughter.
Was it necessary? What about the agreement not to make a big commotion?
Yang Xu rubbed his temples with a headache. Wasn’t it just luck to pick Quentin’s team? How could he be this happy?
Fortunately, Quentin had a stable base. Being suddenly pounced on by a 65+ kg tall boy, he only leaned forward a bit and bent his waist slightly, not stumbling at all.
But suddenly carrying such a big person, it was clear that it was not enough to just rely on Xin Mingzhu’s clinging limbs.
To maintain balance, Quentin raised a hand to brace against the wall. Through the mirror in front of him, he met the boy’s eyes and took in the other’s joyful smile.
He couldn’t help but ask, “Are you that happy?”
“…Yes! Of course, yes!”
Xue Mingzhu chuckled against Quentin’s shoulder, his warm breath hitting Quentin’s cheek. The low timbre and heartbeat were transmitted to Quentin’s back through their tightly pressed chests, spreading heavily along his spine.
His voice was also full of laughter, but his tone was serious. “I’m not like other teammates. I didn’t pick you by luck.”
“You picked me first.”
After saying this, the boy jumped down from Quentin’s back. Then, spreading his arms, he tightly hugged Quentin’s waist from behind, lifting the similarly tall boy off the ground, spinning happily three times in place before setting him down.
Whether from exhaustion or excitement, his breathing was heavy.
Quentin was somewhat exasperated by these sudden actions, but thinking of Xue Mingzhu’s usual behavior, it felt both unexpected and inevitable.
Quentin acknowledged his words. “Mhm, I picked you first. There’s a recorder with our team’s demo in the corner. Don’t you want to listen to it first?”
Xue Mingzhu glanced at the recorder in the corner, then looked back at him. “Demo? Not a song?”
“The theme for the second performance is original composition. We need to freely create a song based on the chosen demo, including choreography and stage design. We can all participate in the design.” Quentin explained the rules unhurriedly. “Come on, let me play it for you first. Although we can’t change it if you don’t like it.”
Xue Mingzhu snorted. “How could I not like it? A song chosen by you must be the best.”
“..”
Quentin looked at him, then suddenly raised a hand and slapped his forehead.
The abrupt darkness momentarily blurred Xue Mingzhu’s vision. He didn’t dodge but instinctively narrowed his eyes. The slap on his forehead was neither painful nor itchy.
When Quentin moved his hand away, he met a young face smiling faintly under the light.
The boy probably didn’t realize he was smiling himself. His calm eyes like a lake met Xue Mingzhu’s gaze frankly, his slightly raised tone carrying a youthful vibe not often seen in him.
Like a corner of golden quicksand being blown aside by rushing water, revealing the jade disc hidden deep in the lake bed.
“Stop pretending,” he said with a smile. “Listen carefully.”
