Chapter 14
After finishing their meal at the Cantonese restaurant, Shi Feiran helped Fang Huai move into his new place.
Well, “moving” was an overstatement—Fang Huai had only been temporarily staying at a guesthouse, and all his belongings fit into a single small bag. He could just sling it over his shoulder and go.
The dormitory provided by Starlight Entertainment was actually quite decent. It wasn’t a high-end apartment complex, but it had good security and a convenient location, making it a desirable place for many working professionals. The apartment itself was on the eighth floor with an elevator, about 90 square meters in size—small but clean and comfortable.
The only thing was… the interior décor was a bit too plain.
The first time Shi Feiran saw it, he was momentarily speechless. The apartment complex itself wasn’t luxurious, but it was still a place many white-collar workers aspired to live in. So why did the inside look like something straight out of a rural home from the 1980s?
Enamel mugs, basic square floor tiles, pull-string incandescent lights, a rickety ceiling fan spinning noisily, and even a portrait of the Chairman on the wall—it felt like stepping through a time warp.
“The conditions aren’t great, so you’ll have to put up with—”
Shi Feiran trailed off as he turned to glance at Fang Huai, then froze.
Fang Huai had stopped at the doorway, unmoving.
His light amber eyes were gleaming, lips slightly upturned, the soft curls of his hair catching the glow of the lights—his whole presence seemed to brighten.
He looked genuinely happy.
“You… like this?” Shi Feiran was struggling to understand.
“Yeah.” Fang Huai stepped inside with his bag and nodded. “I really like it.”
He carefully picked up one of the enamel mugs, examined it for a moment, then placed it back down. His gaze swept across the room, and his fondness for it was unmistakable.
This place looked almost exactly like the home he had lived in as a child.
A small countryside house—not big, just two rooms with a little yard outside, where they kept chickens, ducks, and fish. Even the placement of the enamel mug was similar—Fang Jianguo always left his cup at the edge of the table after drinking water.
Fang Huai took a small radio out of his backpack and casually set it on the cabinet.
Shi Feiran raised an eyebrow. “You still listen to the radio?”
Fang Huai nodded, casually turning the dial on the radio. A delicate, lilting opera voice poured out.
“Teacher Dong, huh?” Shi Feiran, who occasionally listened to opera, hummed along for a couple of lines. “Honestly, back when his voice was in top shape ten years ago, he could completely outshine all those other guys… What a shame.”
“Dong?” Fang Huai silently repeated the surname in his mind.
*
The Next Day
With the recording date for Stellar Light fast approaching, Fang Huai got up early and rushed to Starlight Entertainment for training.
Just as Shi Feiran had mentioned, even though he had been singing his whole life, he had no experience with the skills expected of an “idol.” There was still a lot he needed to catch up on.
Starlight Entertainment provided professional vocal and dance instructors, and for the next three days, from 7 AM to midnight, Fang Huai practically lived in the training room. It wasn’t mandatory—official classes only lasted three to four hours a day—but whenever he wasn’t in a lesson, he practiced and refined his skills on his own.
“Tsk,” Shi Feiran sighed as he walked in, feeling a bit concerned. “Fang Huai, even if you’re working hard, this is too much.”
Fang Huai was in the middle of stretching exercises. His forehead was covered in sweat, the tip of his nose was slightly red, and his lips were pressed together. The movement looked painful, but the boy didn’t make a sound.
While his stamina was excellent, his flexibility was seriously lacking—unsurprising, considering he had never trained for this before. So, for the past few days, Fang Huai had been pushing himself to the extreme, even going so far as to stretch while eating. In fact, just today, he actually did that, scaring the instructor.
The dance teacher beside him nodded in agreement. “Yeah, Fang Huai is pushing himself too hard.”
Other artists occasionally came to the training room, and every time Fang Huai saw the gap between himself and them, he would double his efforts. Many people assumed that, given his good looks and innocent demeanor, he wouldn’t be the type to endure hardship. They were completely wrong—he was relentless.
Fang Huai simply smiled without saying a word.
Last night, he had left Starlight Entertainment at midnight, then spent another two hours stretching at home before finally sleeping at 2 AM. By 6 AM, he was already up. He was exhausted. The pain was real, but he had no intention of mentioning it.
“The preliminary round is the day after tomorrow,” Shi Feiran said. “It’ll be recorded. Feeling nervous?”
“A little.” Fang Huai answered honestly.
“Don’t be too nervous.”
Shi Feiran hesitated for a moment but ultimately kept his next words to himself.
Watching Fang Huai train so desperately over the past few days, he had a sinking feeling that it was all for nothing. He had wanted to say something multiple times, but every time he looked into the boy’s light-colored, clear eyes, he found himself unable to.
If he was being realistic… Fang Huai’s chances of passing the preliminary round were very low.
There were forty contestants, and half would be eliminated in the first round. Out of those forty, thirty-seven had already debuted and had years of experience in the industry. Some had been performing since they were kids. The preliminary round wouldn’t factor in online votes, so Fang Huai’s only advantage—his popularity—was gone.
Singing ability? Shi Feiran had watched Fang Huai’s street performance video. Like many people online had pointed out, what made Fang Huai captivating was his voice and “superpower”—his actual singing technique and song choices were just average. Meanwhile, nearly all of the other contestants had strong, trained voices, with years of refined technique backing them up.
As for dancing and other performance skills, Fang Huai was at an even greater disadvantage. Most of the online audience had already dismissed his chances, expecting to watch him crash and burn. They perched smugly from their high ground, waiting to see how this passionate but inexperienced boy from the countryside would make a fool of himself.
It was harsh, but that was reality.
*
Break time.
The dance instructor quietly pulled Shi Feiran aside and whispered, “You should try to talk some sense into Fang Huai. The way he’s pushing himself… It’s just pointless. Learning to dance won’t help him—there’s no way he’s making it past the first round. It’s a complete waste of effort. Just look at what people are saying on Weibo.”
Dancing wouldn’t even be needed until the second round. The first round was purely a vocal performance with minimal movement, and each contestant wouldn’t get much time on stage.
On Weibo, thanks to the previous street performance video going viral, the discussion surrounding Fang Huai was still lively. But aside from a small group of dedicated fans, most casual viewers—and even some original supporters—were predicting his failure.
[Getting past the auditions was already impressive, lmao. Let’s give him a round of applause, at least—after all, he is just a migrant worker.]
[The first round is based on professional scoring. No amount of “superpower” tricks are gonna save him now.]
[I’m a fan of the guy, but to be honest… his main appeal is his face and that special ability, right? His voice is great, but his actual singing? Not so much. Maybe if he trains for a few years, he’ll be ready—but right now, he’s just rushing in too fast.]
[It’s kind of a shame. I was really looking forward to seeing him dance. Who knows? Maybe he’ll bust out some folk dance moves, hahaha.]
[How long has Lu Yu been training? He debuted at thirteen and has been working his ass off ever since. Meanwhile, this guy has been hauling bricks for ten years—why does he think he can compete? Oh, he’s weaker, so we should cut him some slack?]
[Does he even belong in the same category as the others?! This is hilarious. The others are idols. At best, he’s a comedy act.]
Some users had even edited a side-by-side video, comparing Fang Huai’s street performance to past stage performances by Lu Yu, Xu Lufeng, and other contestants. The final conclusion? Fang Huai was utterly outmatched.
Shi Feiran let out a sigh and shook his head.
He figured Fang Huai probably didn’t realize just how slim his chances of advancing were. That was why he was working so hard on dancing—because he still believed he would make it to the second round.
Shi Feiran knew he should say something. He should tell Fang Huai the truth. But every time he tried, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.
He exchanged a look with the dance instructor. Both of them felt a little heartbroken.
*
Not far away.
The boy who had gone to fill his water bottle quietly listened to their conversation.
Sweat dotted the tip of his nose. The intense training had left a faint pink flush along his neck. For a split second, something flickered in his light amber eyes.
But just as quickly, the emotion faded.
He finished drinking his water, smiled, and turned back to continue practicing.
*
11:00 PM.
Inside Starlight Entertainment’s massive building, only one practice room remained lit.
Fang Huai listened to the music and sang through the song twice.
On the third run, his voice cracked on the chorus. After that, the rest of the verse went completely off-key. The result was a complete mess.
When he finished singing, he suddenly remembered what Shi Feiran and the instructor had said earlier that day.
The young boy gazed at the dim light on the windowsill, momentarily lost in thought. His light amber eyes rippled slightly.
It wasn’t sadness or discouragement. No matter what, he never intended to give up.
Just a little bit of disappointment.
A tiny bit.
The night was gentle, and the cool summer breeze softly brushed past.
Suddenly, the dormant robotic vacuum powered on, its tiny brushes whirling as it rolled over to Fang Huai’s feet.
Just as Fang Huai was about to step aside to give it space, the little robot stopped right in front of him.
It tilted its head up, its small black “eyes” staring at him, and spoke in a mechanical voice: “You are good.”
At first, Fang Huai didn’t pay much attention. The robot twirled around and then stubbornly repeated: “You are good.”
This time, Fang Huai noticed. He didn’t even wonder why a cleaning robot was talking—after all, phones and computers could talk too. It seemed perfectly normal to him.
He rubbed his nose and murmured, “But… a lot of people don’t like me.”
The little robot hesitated, as if processing his words.
Fang Huai crouched down, locking eyes with it. After a long pause, the robot’s voice, now somewhat strained, spoke again: “I…”
Fang Huai tilted his head. “Hmm?”
The mechanical voice softened, nearly inaudible.
“I like you.”
Fang Huai froze.
In the distance, deep in the hallway.
A tall man in a tailored suit stood silently, holding his phone.
His voice, transformed by a speech software, was being played through the little cleaning robot.
The moonlight fell gently into his eyes, soft and luminous, spreading bit by bit.
His lips were pressed together, the tips of his ears faintly warm. Holding his phone close, he whispered once more:”I like you.”
The night was gentle.
Author’s Note:
So actually, while Huaihuai was staying up late practicing every night… someone was always keeping him company. After all, how could someone possibly feel at ease letting him walk home alone in the dark?
(I originally wanted to write about the new big shot tonight, but somehow got carried away… Tomorrow for sure!)
