Author: hoeniely (Page 18 of 18)

A brief silence arose on the other end of the phone. After a while, Zhou Jinchen’s voice slowly came through: “Are you at Jin Dian?”

“Yes…”

It seemed that Zhou Jinchen said something to the driver, and after a moment of fuzziness, his voice became clear again: “200 meters away from the road sign is the location I sent you.”

A brief buzzing vibration came from the phone, and soon, the call ended.

The overheated phone burned his palm. A bit of sweat from the side of his face had slid onto the smooth screen. An Xumo quickly wiped the screen with a tissue, stood up, and went to the bathroom to wash his face.

Clear water droplets slowly slid down his delicate features, and his fair skin appeared even more translucent after getting wet. An Xumo didn’t have the habit of wearing makeup during practice, as his conditions were excellent. His whole demeanor exuded the pure charm unique to youth. Although his temperament was different from Zhou Jinchen’s, there was no doubt that both of them unconsciously emitted an irresistible charm to those around them.

But when An Xumo looked up at himself in the mirror, he couldn’t help but feel a lack of confidence or peace of mind.

He had thought he would change back into his dance practice clothes in the afternoon, so he had just casually thrown on a plain white T-shirt and black shorts. This outfit had looked poor even when he was in high school, let alone when meeting his brother.

While editing a message to ask Tang Tang for time off, An Xumo absentmindedly chewed on the tip of his tongue, thinking about the time they hadn’t seen each other. When he was anxious, he had the habit of biting his tongue, a trick he had originally used to stave off hunger.

In fact, An Xumo didn’t need to think much. He had been keeping track of the cumulative days—he had last seen Zhou Jinchen a year ago. 370 days had passed, and now this date could finally reset, starting again from scratch.

Tang Tang directly called him. An Xumo’s tongue felt a little numb, but he apologized as best as he could: “I’m really sorry, there’s something important at home. I’ll make up for the practice when I get back.”

Fortunately, he had just started working with a new agent, and his schedule hadn’t been finalized yet. After giving a few instructions, Tang Tang relaxed. An Xumo didn’t dare delay further, tugged at the hem of his T-shirt, and hurriedly left the company.

The black Bentley stopped in front of the bank. An Xumo glanced at it and immediately recognized it as the family car. He hurried over, and a middle-aged man with a slicked-back hairstyle opened the car door. An Xumo softly thanked him, taking a deep breath to calm his hurried breathing before bending down to sit in the backseat.

The driver and the butler sat in the front, and naturally, the man who had been counted to 370 was sitting in the back. The car was spacious, with a refined atmosphere. There was even a soundproof partition between the front and back seats. An Xumo was afraid his voice might sound impolite, so he did his best to suppress his rapid breathing.

But the other party’s first words easily shattered the calm he had tried to maintain.

“Why aren’t you going to school?”

Before An Xumo could decide whether to mention his contract with Jin Dian, the man’s question caught him off guard. Zhou Jinchen flipped over the tablet he was holding, the cold light from the screen stabbing into An Xumo’s eyes.

It was the contract he had signed with Jin Dian.

Clearly, Zhou Jinchen had found more than just that contract. With a swipe of his long fingers, An Xumo saw several thumbnail images of his personal files. His performance videos, vocal range analysis, class schedules—everything was there.

His appearance certainly gave Zhou Jinchen’s career a boost, but the reason he had landed such amazing resources right after debuting was because of the investment the Zhou Family had slammed into the Jin Dian Group.

Within just a few minutes, Zhou Jinchen had obtained all of An Xumo’s information.

The screen froze, and a formal yet celebratory admission letter was enlarged. The emblem of a top university was prominently displayed at the top, and the next line began with An Xumo’s name.

The man’s voice remained low and alluring, despite only containing a word: “Explain.”

An Xumo pinched the seam of his pants, his voice slightly muddled: “I want… to be a star.”

Zhou Jinchen’s voice revealed no emotion: “Why didn’t you tell the family?”

An Xumo murmured, “There’s no need to trouble them with this…”

Before he could finish his sentence, the tablet was thrown with a sharp “thud” between them.

An Xumo looked down and saw the display showing all his expenses for the month—training, food and accommodation, clothing… and even energy drinks.

All in all, aside from the essentials, everything else was the lowest option available, totaling less than 3,000.

For an average student, 3,000 might cover one or two months of living expenses, but for the Zhou Family, that amount was less than what they would pay for a day’s cleaning service.

An Xumo could no longer stay defiant; the truth was glaringly obvious in front of both of them.

He had been kicked out of the Zhou Family.

The Zhou Family had been in business for three generations, and under Old Master Zhou, the family had become even more prosperous, with four sons. An Xumo had originally been raised by the youngest, Zhou Yunshan. After Zhou Yunshan passed away, when he was just three years old, An Xumo was fostered by Zhou Yunshan’s second eldest brother, Zhou Yunlin—Zhou Jinchen’s family.

Although he was being raised there, the Zhou Family had never hidden their rejection of An Xumo.

Zhou Yunshan had been intelligent since he was a child and was greatly loved with a natural talent for business that made him even more admirable. He was perfect in every way, but he fell short when it came to love.

When Zhou Yunshan brought An Xumo back, the Zhou Family nearly exploded—no one expected the prestigious Zhou Family, with their successful Young Master Zhou, to stubbornly insist on raising another man’s child for his fiancée.

An Xumo wasn’t even Zhou Yunshan’s biological son. His existence was a shame to the Zhou Family. But Zhou Yunshan refused to break off his engagement, and even when he lay on his deathbed, he never forgot to entrust An Xumo to his second brother, who had only one child.

After Zhou Yunshan’s death, the Zhou Family changed An Xumo’s surname back to his mother’s. They considered their duty fulfilled after nearly 18 years of raising a child of another family. The day An Xumo received his university admission letter, all contact with him was officially severed. Zhou Jinchen, busy with filming and engagements, might not return home once in a year, and no one had informed him, so he naturally knew nothing of this matter.

When An Xumo left the Zhou Family residence, all he had left was the phone Zhou Jinchen had given him for his birthday and the inheritance left to him by Zhou Yunshan before his death. He was still underage, so Zhou Yunshan’s estate only allowed him to withdraw 2,000 a month. The Zhou Family had paid for his university tuition, but An Xumo no longer wanted to continue studying.

No matter how well he did or how obedient he was, no one would change their attitude toward him. To the Zhou Family, An Xumo had been a disgrace from the moment he was born.

The problems didn’t stop there. The Zhou Family didn’t care about An Xumo signing the contract on his own, but Zhou Jinchen, who also worked in the entertainment industry, couldn’t remain indifferent. The man’s voice, calm yet forceful, landed near An Xumo’s ear with the same oppressive effect as his appearance.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Zhou Jinchen’s imposing presence had always been intimidating, and with An Xumo, who had always been afraid of him, the questioning threw him off balance. His face turned even paler as he stammered, “I was afraid I’d cause trouble to brother…”

Zhou Jinchen faintly cut him off, “If you don’t want to cause trouble, then don’t call me ‘brother’ in front of others.”

The color drained from An Xumo’s face in an instant.

He understood this logic completely—Zhou Jinchen had his own considerations. The entertainment industry was full of both good and bad, and the media would dig up anything they could. Zhou Jinchen had always disliked his privacy being exposed, and naturally, he wouldn’t make their relationship public. That was why An Xumo had never mentioned Zhou Jinchen to anyone during his time with Jin Dian, not even to Tang Tang.

What truly left An Xumo feeling helpless was the undeniable truth in front of him—Zhou Family had completely severed ties with him, even transferring his guardianship. So now, he no longer had the right to call him that.

Zhou Jinchen glanced at the slender boy in front of him, his eyes briefly stopping on the pale hand where veins showed faintly, before quickly moving away. He pressed the intercom button and spoke to the driver, giving a new destination. The direction shifted, and the luxury car’s shock absorption system worked so smoothly that An Xumo couldn’t feel any bumps during the turn.

When Zhou Jinchen released the button, he heard the usual light tone from the other side, but this time it was slightly hoarse, “I understand. I will try my best. I won’t disturb you, senior.”

Zhou Jinchen raised an eyebrow in response, his handsome face carrying a mysterious expression. He had planned to say something, but when he saw An Xumo’s face, he froze.

An Xumo was staring down at the dimming tablet when a slender hand reached out with a wet wipe. He hurriedly looked up, and the man holding the wipe said, “The corner of your mouth.”

An Xumo instinctively wiped with the back of his hand, only to smear a large patch of blood across his fair skin.

It was then that he realized he had bitten his tongue. After quickly thanking the man, An Xumo took the wet wipe from him and carefully cleaned up the blood.

The car fell into a brief silence. Just as An Xumo was about to ask a very important question, he heard the man’s usual deep, captivating voice, “Off-camera, you can call me whatever you like.”

An Xumo looked up in confusion. The light outlined Zhou Jinchen’s perfect profile, and at such a close distance, it was enough to soothe all of his hunger.

“Senior will do,” Zhou Jinchen said indifferently. “But you haven’t debuted yet.”

An Xumo had initially wanted to ask why he was still allowed to attend the birthday banquet, but Zhou Jinchen’s words completely threw him off. He sat there dazed, feeling as though his ears were ringing, or perhaps he had misunderstood.

The smoothly driving Bentley came to a stop. Zhou Jinchen opened the car door and stepped out first. The butler opened the door on An Xumo’s side. In a daze, An Xumo stepped out of the car and looked ahead.

What stood before him was not the cold, imposing main gate of the mansion, but a magnificent, refined, tall commercial building. Several famous luxury brand logos stood out on large signs, and the bright windows displayed small but expensive new arrivals.

Zhou Jinchen, wearing sunglasses, passed by him and tilted his head slightly, signaling to An Xumo, who was dressed in cheap clothes.

“Keep up.”

The author has something to say:

The very poor and hungry An Xiao Mo is about to be taken out shopping for clothes =v=.

Click to bookmark this story, and you’ll get a stable daily update (≧▽≦)/!

The phone screen had already locked, but denying it now would only make it seem a little too much. An Xumo responded as naturally as possible, both in expression and tone, “Mm, senior is my idol.”

Tang Tang didn’t find it strange that her own artist was chasing after a star. The name Zhou Jinchen had been well-known in the circle in recent years—he was the ideal model for anyone dreaming of overnight fame. While An Xumo had exceptional potential, he was still just an unknown trainee. It was only natural for him to admire Zhou Jinchen.

However, admiration was one thing; necessary warnings couldn’t be omitted. As she packed up the meal boxes, Tang Tang said, “Xiao Mo, there’s nothing wrong with chasing stars, but you have to remember your own identity. Once you officially debut, the company will arrange various materials for you. You need to be mindful of boundaries, or who knows how others might spin things if they catch wind of it.”

Tang Tang’s words were blunt, but they served as a very timely reminder. In the entertainment industry, there was no such thing as privacy—an artist’s preferences were all exploitable elements. Having an idol could be a small matter or a big one, but An Xumo had no leverage at the moment. If he wasn’t careful, he could easily be labeled as someone clout-chasing.

“Brother Zhou’ team is the top-tier setup in our company, and his fanbase is particularly loyal. He’s on the actor track, yet his stats are no less than those of top traffic stars.” After finishing her initial reminder, Tang Tang softened her tone, half comforting and half advising, “We don’t need to rush things. Just keep working hard, and you’ll definitely have the chance to collaborate with him in the future.”

An Xumo responded quietly, showing no signs of discomfort. Tang Tang assumed he had taken her words to heart, unaware that, for An Xumo, her advice was completely unnecessary.

He had been hiding his emotions for over ten years—far longer than any other fan of Zhou Jinchen—and he understood better than anyone how to suppress them.

After lunch, the trainees had an hour of break time. An Xumo had long since gotten used to using this time for extra practice. He was about to head to the dance studio when Tang Tang called him back.

“Right. Han Ming, the one who arranged for you all to appear at the concert, is coming over. He’s selecting a few dancers for his new single. Go wait for him in the lobby first. Make a good first impression—it’ll make it easier to stay in touch later.”

An Xumo hesitated for a moment, only nodding after Tang Tang called his name again.

Tang Tang had other matters to attend to. After a few more reminders, she let An Xumo go. During the lunch break, the corridor was quiet. An Xumo walked alone for a long time until he reached the railing on the second floor. Looking down, he finally saw some figures moving through the lobby on the first floor.

Jin Dian was a massive company with a very luxurious interior. The spacious lobby was bright and pristine, with floors polished enough to reflect one’s image. People occasionally passed through, and a few trainees sat in the booth-style sofas to the side, seemingly casual but clearly keeping an eye on the entrance.

Surrounded by emptiness, standing atop this stage of fame and fortune adorned with heavy makeup and pretense, An Xumo found himself standing in this high-class building countless people dreamed of reaching. The windows were spotless, the lighting was warm, yet hunger swept over him like a gust of wind through an open hall, sudden and overwhelming.

The staircase was easy to find. When An Xumo descended to the first-floor lobby, the trainees immediately noticed him. An Xumo didn’t notice the unfriendly gazes directed his way, simply finding a quiet corner behind the stairs to sit alone.

The lobby was vast, so much so that its daily cleaning was divided between two separate teams. An Xumo sat in an inconspicuous spot where he could clearly see those entering through the doors, but others would find it difficult to notice him.

The wait wasn’t long. Before long, Han Ming’s figure appeared at the entrance. Han Ming was a prime example of a successful solo debut after leaving a group. His appearance was striking, and after securing opportunities, he made the most of them. After skyrocketing to fame through a variety show, he hadn’t neglected his core skills in singing and dancing. Now, he was capable of holding solo concerts in China, with VIP seats being resold at triple the original price.

Despite having debuted only three years ago and not yet having solidified his foundation, to these trainees who had yet to debut, Han Ming was already a senior star beyond reach. They waited here eagerly, hoping for a chance to strike up a conversation with this senior.

However, when Han Ming finally stepped inside, everyone’s attention was instantly stolen by someone else.

Accompanying Han Ming into the lobby was a young man nearly 1.9 meters tall. Both had long legs and tall statures, yet standing together, their differences were strikingly clear. The man who drew all eyes had an imposing presence and an exceptionally outstanding appearance. In terms of looking at his appearance alone, he was even more stunning than Han Ming, who had debuted as an idol.

This was no exaggeration. Setting aside everything else, the media was always eager to use the largest headlines and the most captivating descriptions to praise this man’s looks, knowing they would guarantee surging readership every time. Yet, even with all the flowery words, no retelling could fully capture his allure without losing some part of it.

Despite debuting as an actor, he held two records: the highest solo magazine sales and the fastest sellout of limited-edition issues. Over the years, his refined temperament had only enhanced his appearance, making him more breathtaking and awe-inspiring with each passing year.

—The man walking into the lobby alongside Han Ming was none other than Zhou Jinchen.

Only the trainees seeking opportunities from Han Ming had been keeping an eye on him, but the moment Zhou Jinchen appeared, all attention was instantly drawn to him instead.

Jin Dian was an established entertainment conglomerate, with countless celebrities coming and going daily. Any random star from the company was enough to capture public attention. Even so, the people present were momentarily stunned by the sheer impact of his presence. It took a while before they could regain their composure.

Once they snapped out of it, they realized that Han Ming was engaged in conversation with Zhou Jinchen. The latter was dressed in a custom-tailored black suit, which not only made him look even more striking but also indicated something else—he was likely on his way to attend a highly formal event.

Compared to the surrounding onlookers’ reaction, Han Ming’s demeanor remained calm and composed. He was undoubtedly good-looking himself, though he paled slightly in comparison to Zhou Jinchen. However, his poised manner of speaking still made him an appealing presence.

The lobby was spacious, and those nearby couldn’t make out the details of their conversation. They could only see Han Ming chatting enthusiastically, while the usually reserved Zhou Jinchen didn’t seem entirely uninterested either. He said something brief, and Han Ming immediately broke into a pleased smile. The atmosphere between them that moment let the bystanders hesitate to interrupt.

However, after just a few steps, a few unfamiliar young men approached to greet them. Whether due to the unexpected turn of events or the overwhelming aura Zhou Jinchen exuded, they rushed forward so clumsily that they couldn’t even introduce themselves properly.

Han Ming, who had been casually joking earlier, immediately adjusted his expression. He didn’t react much, simply glancing at the name tags on their chests before giving them a polite nod and moving on without lingering.

Seeing the trainees gathering around Han Ming, An Xumo, who had been sitting in the distance, suddenly remembered his own task. He was supposed to greet Han Ming as well. But with that person there, there was no way he could go up and start a conversation now.

Left with no other choice, An Xumo could only apologize to Tang Tang in his heart.

Compared to An Xumo, it was the other trainees who were truly filled with regret. But at this moment, Han Ming and Zhou Jinchen had already entered the elevator, leaving them no chance to salvage the situation. What was meant to be an opportunity to leave a good impression had instead turned into a disaster. Worse still, they had made a rash and discourteous impression in front of Zhou Jinchen. First impressions were crucial, and now, they would have to work ten times harder to make up for it.

Meanwhile, An Xumo, who hadn’t stepped forward at all, was ironically the most at ease. Even the hunger he had felt earlier had mostly subsided. With half an hour of lunch break remaining and Han Ming already gone, he had no other tasks left. He initially planned to resume extra training but then recalled Tang Tang mentioning adjustments to his new training schedule. Pausing his steps toward the upper floor, he took out the company-issued trainee phone and sent Tang Tang a message.

Training and debuting newcomers in groups was a standard cost-cutting and risk-reducing strategy for the company. However, An Xumo had already proven his value in the competitive environment at the bottom tier, which meant the company was bound to make new considerations for him. The original group training was no longer suitable for his current situation, and now that he had a manager, he needed to start a new training plan.

Tang Tang was still busy, so she only replied with a short WeChat message telling him to wait a little. Since the manager wasn’t available, An Xumo couldn’t go directly to the second-floor offices, so he simply stayed in the lobby, waiting for her response.

Not long after, just as the lobby had settled into calm again, small commotion arose. Snapped out of his thoughts, An Xumo looked up—only to be startled by a familiar figure.

Just ten meters away, coming down the stairs, was none other than Zhou Jinchen, the very person who had been occupying his mind moments ago. This time, he was alone—Han Ming was nowhere to be seen.

Unlike the others in the lobby, who were all subtly trying to attract Zhou Jinchen’s attention, An Xumo’s heart was racing wildly, and even his stomach tightened with a mix of sweet and sour nervousness. He didn’t dare make a sound, holding his breath as if staying perfectly still would keep him from being noticed.

Fortunately, Zhou Jinchen didn’t seem to pay attention to his surroundings. He was never the type to engage in casual socializing, nor did he need to build connections through small talk. Without stopping in the lobby, he quickly exited the Jin Dian building.

An Xumo had yet to recover from his nervousness when his phone suddenly vibrated against his leg, making him jump again. When he finally calmed down enough to check, he saw a message from Tang Tang. She was arranging his new training plan and told him not to rush—he could rest for now.

Tang Tang understood An Xumo’s personality well, so she never pressured him to over-train. Instead, she tried to help him balance work and rest. An Xumo sent her a quick thank-you message but soon found himself troubled over where to go next.

Staying in the lobby was out of the question—who knew who else he might run into? But aside from the dance studio and the vocal practice room, he didn’t really have anywhere else to go.

As he was thinking, his leg suddenly vibrated again. He assumed it was another notification from Tang Tang and instinctively reached for his phone, only to realize that the company phone was still in his right hand.

If it wasn’t the company phone…

An Xumo’s back stiffened once more.

He hurriedly fished out his personal phone from his other pocket. As the screen lit up automatically, the name displayed on it was the only person he dared not even think about.

Taking a deep breath, An Xumo felt more nervous now than he had ever been while waiting backstage before a performance. His palm was slick with sweat, and it took two tries before his fingers managed to answer the call.

“…Hello… Brother?”

The person on the other end didn’t seem to notice his nerves. A deep, magnetic voice resonated through the phone, sending a tremor down the back of An Xumo’s pale ears. Zhou Jinchen’s low voice was as famous as his looks, and An Xumo had to dig his nails into his palm just to focus on what was being said.

“Grandfather’s birthday banquet tonight. Come to the main house.”

An Xumo’s lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something, but after opening and closing his mouth a few times, no words came out.

He knew about the banquet, but attending had never been part of his plans. No one wanted him there on a joyous occasion, and he never expected Zhou Jinchen to call him back for it.

This was completely outside of An Xumo’s expectations. He had every reason to refuse. No one in that house wanted to see him, and he himself still had classes to attend—dance practice, lessons, workouts, rest…

His schedule was packed with classes, yet none of those reasons were enough to change his decision.

—An Xumo had no way to refuse an opportunity to meet Zhou Jinchen.

Just like the fleeting glimpse he had stolen earlier—he had been terrified, yet he indulged in it willingly. His empty stomach felt as if it had been filled with cheese and honey, soft and sweet, warming him from the inside out.

As An Xumo remained silent, the voice on the other end spoke again. The sound of a car door opening and closing accompanied the deep male voice: “Turn on your location. The driver will pick you up.”

His personal phone had a security system, and An Xumo had forgotten to disable location tracking earlier. He had never given it much thought—because no one had ever come looking for him.

So now, just as Zhou Jinchen finished speaking, a soft “beep” sounded—a notification indicating an active location ping. The faint chime seemed to explode across the signal between them.

A sweet, mechanical female voice announced on the other end, “Destination reached.”

An Xumo swallowed with difficulty, his voice as dry as his parched lips. Quietly, he said, “Brother… I’m at the place you just left.”

The author has something to say:

Daily stable updates, please bookmark -3-!

The gong and shou aren’t biologically related. This is an alternate universe where same-sex marriage is legal. Their names are derived from a Chinese idiom: 望尘莫及 (wàng chén mò jí), meaning “far beyond reach.” It signifies both an unattainable crush and the idea of longing for “Chen” while “Mo” remains out of reach~

The spacious and well-lit dance studio had a brand-new floor-to-ceiling mirror spanning an entire wall. Eleven young men with broad shoulders, long legs, and similar heights were practicing the same dance routine. The highly dynamic rhythm demanded both physical endurance and solid dance skills. Even in the temperature-controlled room, beads of sweat were visible on their foreheads and the backs of their necks.

It wasn’t until the clock struck the hour that the trainees, who had been rehearsing for two hours straight, finally got a ten-minute break. The music switched to a light, relaxing tune, and as they stretched their sore limbs, they gradually took their seats on a row of long benches against the wall.

These young men were trainees handpicked for intensive training under Jin Dian Entertainment’s new annual program. Before being selected, they had undergone thirteen rounds of auditions and evaluations. Each of them was exceptionally talented, but among the eleven, there was one whose appearance was unanimously recognized as the most outstanding.

An Xumo—who was also the youngest among them.

Transparent sweat droplets rolled down his well-defined jawline. Slightly panting, An Xumo picked up a dark green sports drink, his fair and flexible lower back flashing briefly as he moved. He wiped his forehead with a towel while taking a seat at the very edge of the bench.

With the choreographer absent, the atmosphere in the studio was noticeably more relaxed. When An Xumo sat down, the trainee beside him, Lu Yingtou, was turned slightly, chatting with someone next to him. Four people sat on the long bench, yet only one remained silent the entire time. Lu Yingtou’s back seemed to form an invisible barrier, distinctly dividing the space between them.

The group was discussing their first public performance, which had taken place a week ago at fellow company artist Han Ming’s solo concert. Lu Yingtou said, “It’s only been three years since senior debuted and he was able to hold his solo concert. Not to mention in Jin Dian, it’s pretty rare in the entire industry.

The boy next to him agreed, “Yeah, I heard that senior is about to start recording the second season of <Sunny Weekend>. This time, he’s a regular guest—signed on for six whole episodes.”

Another boy with brown hair lowered his voice, saying, “Didn’t Sister Chen mention yesterday that he’s coming to the company around noon? We should hang out in the lobby during lunch break.” While speaking, he seemed wary of An Xumo overhearing. Even though he had already lowered his voice, his eyes kept darting in An Xumo’s direction. Only when he saw An Xumo tilt his head back and drink his sports drink without any reaction did he finally relax and look away.

To cover up his actions, the brown-haired boy also twisted open his green bottle and took a sip. It was a specialized drink provided by the company—low in sugar, low in calories, and rich in nutrients. For trainees like them, however, they had to pay for it themselves.

But an expensive price didn’t necessarily mean a good taste. Caught off guard, the brown-haired boy was immediately overwhelmed by the sour bitterness as soon as he took a sip. Though he forced himself to swallow instead of spitting it out, his expression twisted uncontrollably.

Lu Yingtou laughed at him. “You’ve been drinking this for so long, and you still get choked by bitter melon water? Impressive.”

Of course, the sports drink didn’t actually contain bitter melon—it even had a high-end official name. But its strange taste and color had earned it the nickname bitter melon water among the trainees. The brown-haired boy chuckled awkwardly and continued chatting, yet his gaze couldn’t help but sneak back to the farthest corner where An Xumo was sitting.

To his surprise, An Xumo’s bottle of bitter melon water was already empty.

An Xumo, having finished the entire bottle, paid no attention to the conversation around him. He screwed the cap back onto the now-spotless bottle and placed it into the drink crate in the corner. However, his empty stomach still let out a small protest of hunger.

Sports drinks were different from regular beverages—a single bottle was enough to sustain someone through hours of intense exercise. But for An Xumo, who was still underage, it wasn’t enough to fill his stomach. He rubbed his abdomen, hesitated for a moment, but ultimately didn’t reach for a second bottle.

He didn’t have enough money to cover the extra cost, and besides, lunch was only two hours away. To be honest, An Xumo didn’t particularly like the taste of the sports drink either. Thinking about the hot meal waiting for him at noon, he decided he could hold out a little longer.

The ten-minute break passed in a flash, and the studio was once again filled with the pounding rhythm of their endlessly repeated choreography.

Jin Dian Entertainment had dominated the film industry for decades and was now making a bold move into the music scene—an achievement inseparable from the company’s highly efficient and rigorous training system. For these trainees, who had yet to make their debut, practicing over ten hours a day was the norm.

Two hours later, the morning session finally came to an end. Just as the trainees were dismissed, the choreographer, Brother Li, suddenly called out to An Xumo at the back of the group.

“Oh, right—Xiao Mo, Xiao Tang asked me to let you know that you don’t have to go to the cafeteria for lunch. Head straight to Room 213, she’s waiting for you there.”

An Xumo was momentarily stunned before nodding in acknowledgment, surrounded by various unreadable gazes. His expression remained respectful but not overly eager. “Thank you, Brother Li.”

Brother Li chuckled and patted An Xumo’s shoulder. “No need to be so polite. You’re the first among this new batch to get a manager—there’s still a long road ahead, so keep working hard.”

Jin Dian Entertainment had sent the eleven-member trainee group to perform as an opening act for Han Ming’s concert, but in the end, only An Xumo stood out. This kid’s appearance and stage presence were beyond reproach. Having worked with many trainees over the years, Brother Li had a sharp eye—there weren’t many people in the company who could earn his words of encouragement.

Everyone else in the room naturally understood Brother Li’s personality. As soon as he finished speaking, the other ten trainees looked even worse than their sweat-soaked training uniforms. They didn’t dare let Brother Li notice their reactions, so instead, they directed their glares at An Xumo, who was facing them. But An Xumo remained as clueless as ever, merely thanking Brother Li once more before turning to leave the dance studio.

The cafeteria was where the trainees usually ate, but since An Xumo had been called away by his new manager, he would be having lunch in her office instead.

The person assigned to An Xumo was Tang Tang. Though she was referred to as a manager, she had never independently managed an artist before—she was a newcomer, just like him. Along with An Xumo, she was also responsible for a few other newly signed artists. The reason An Xumo was the only one given the privilege of dining in her office was due to friendship between them before they both joined the company.

When An Xumo knocked and entered, Tang Tang was just taking out lunch. She carefully lifted the lid of the insulated container, revealing a spread of crisp, pale-colored food.

Tang Tang beamed. “Xiao Mo, come here. This is a special meal I had customized just for you. The company’s nutritionist highly recommended it.”

The moment An Xumo saw what was inside the lunchbox, a wave of sourness surged up his throat and settled in his stomach. He had just taken a shower, leaving a faint, fresh scent lingering on him—but no matter how pleasant he smelled, he couldn’t possibly compare to the sheer freshness of the meal before him.

What Tang Tang had prepared for him was a precisely portioned, meticulously seasoned chicken breast—accompanied by a large plate of boiled broccoli that didn’t have the slightest bit of oil or fishy smell.

The cafeteria meals, though also strictly portioned, at least had some richness to them. But the plate in front of An Xumo now—forget about oil, even the egg was stingily halved and sliced into four thin pieces.

An Xumo sniffed lightly, then finally took the knife and fork Tang Tang handed him. She continued her lecture, “Xiao Mo, if you want to be an idol, you have to maintain your figure. I already thought you had potential when I was an exchange in junior high, but you still have to stick to the discipline. Even if the heavens bless us with talent, we have to be able to carry it.”

An Xumo had attended a prestigious private school for junior high, where extracurricular activities were abundant. Tang Tang, two years his senior, had been an exchange student there. The two had met during a month-long exchange program through school events. No one could have predicted that their brief acquaintance would continue right outside the gates of the entertainment industry.

Tang Tang was chatty, but she genuinely cared for him. Even though An Xumo felt miserable, he had no intention of arguing back. He simply tore into the chicken breast, forcing himself to swallow the paper-like texture.

Before long, Tang Tang received a work call. She told An Xumo to stay in the office and finish his meal properly, assuring him she would be back soon. An Xumo nodded and saw her off. Returning to the empty desk, he took out his phone from his pocket.

The trainees all used discounted sponsor-provided phones, but the one An Xumo pulled out was his private device. He opened a hidden album and found a live photo, carefully propping up his phone beside his meal. As he continued eating his unappetizing nutritional meal, he kept his gaze fixed on the photo.

In recent years, mukbang videos had become popular, offering comfort to those on diets or with dietary restrictions. But An Xumo’s chosen photo wasn’t of a famous food vlogger, nor was it of the sweet-and-sour ribs he had long craved. Instead, it was a candid shot of a man.

The man in the picture had a cold and strikingly handsome face. He was dressed in a tailored deep gray suit that outlined a perfect physique, making his straight shoulders and back even more prominent. The image was slightly distorted from being zoomed in too much, but even through the softened pixels, the man’s unparalleled beauty and distant demeanor were evident.

The short live photo captured the moment he stood up. His seated posture was already elegant and upright, but when he rose, his impossibly long legs became the undeniable highlight. In just a few seconds, the brief clip showcased his extraordinary aura and flawless appearance—anyone who saw it couldn’t help but be awed from the depths of their heart.

An Xumo’s reaction was even more straightforward—once the photo was placed in front of him, his eating speed noticeably improved. The plain-boiled broccoli now carried a fresh, sweet vegetable aroma, and the previously dry, paper-like chicken breast suddenly seemed much more tender. Even though he had been looking at this photo for nearly half a year, the man’s allure hadn’t diminished in the slightest despite the monotony of the overly familiar image.

The once unappetizing lunch was quickly finished, with even the decorative carrot slices being carefully nibbled away. After downing the last bit of sugar-free yogurt, An Xumo was just about to put his phone away when a curious voice sounded from behind him. “Xiao Mo, what are you looking at?”

His fingers instinctively tensed, crushing the yogurt carton in his grip. An Xumo hurriedly stood up as Tang Tang had already circled around from behind him. Spotting the spotless, emptied lunchbox, her tone immediately lightened. “I was worried you wouldn’t be able to eat much, but it looks like this meal was pretty good.”

An Xu nodded to show a clear conscience. “Mm.”

He was about to steer the conversation away, but Tang Tang quickly brought it back. “Right, was that a photo of Brother Zhou you were just looking at?”