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?”
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