The next day, Chen Zheng and the other two returned to Shenzhen at night because they had to go to school on Monday.
After three days of traveling in Shanghai, Ouyangguang, his mother and Changan arrived in Shenzhen on the third night.
The next day, Ouyangguang celebrated his fifteenth birthday and held a birthday party at home.
The afternoon after his birthday celebration, he flew to South Korea.
In the more than one month since I arrived in Seoul, the days seemed to have been accelerated. Autumn was getting deeper, the leaves of the trees on the roadside were dyed golden, and a thin layer of mist covered the windows of the practice room.
Ouyangguang's life was filled up again with perfect perfection:
Every day, he carried a heavy schoolbag filled with textbooks and exercise books.
After quickly swallowing the bread and milk he bought from the convenience store, he joined the crowd of students wearing the same dark school uniforms.
Time in class is another kind of "training" - understanding complex Korean grammar, solving difficult science problems, and participating in group discussions. During breaks, he is either rushing to finish his homework or lying on the table to catch up on his sleep.
In the afternoon, when the school bell rang, Ouyang Guangji was the first to rush out of the classroom.
He skillfully turned into a secluded alley near the school, where a black sedan arranged by the driver was parked.
The driver, who had been waiting for a long time, nodded to him. The car door closed, isolating him from the hustle and bustle of the campus.
During the more than ten-minute drive to the SM building, Ouyang Guang quickly ate the dinner she had asked the driver to buy, while taking out the notes or music scores in the practice room, racing against time to review the key points emphasized by the dance teacher or memorizing the chord progression of the song.
The city scenery outside the car window quickly receded, and he quickly switched from "student Ou Yangguang" to "trainee Ou Yangguang" like a machine switching channels.
Ouyang Guang keenly noticed that in the past month, Kim Min-ji appeared in the practice room unusually frequently.
She no longer just stood at the door and said a few words, but would lean against the mirror wall for a long time, with sharp eyes and writing something in the notebook in her hand.
Her presence made the already highly concentrated atmosphere in the practice room even tighter, like an invisible string.
What is even more obvious is the "coincidence" of the personnel combination. He and Zhang Yixing are increasingly frequently working with Kim Junmyeon, Kim Jong-in, Park Chanyeol, Kim So-kyu, and several other strong A-class trainees such as Cho Jin-ho and Liu Qiangxiu.
Show up in the same practice room for specific group or joint training.
Kim Junmyeon is calm and reliable, always able to provide silent help when Ouyang Yang is stuck in Korean or the team is in disarray;
Kim Jong-in's dancing aura is powerful, and his hard work in private practice is astonishing;
Park Chanyeol is full of energy and has great talent for rap; Kim So-kyu sings solidly and is the mainstay of the team's harmony.
A tacit understanding beyond words quietly grew in the repeated practice. The rehearsal of a new song, the movement of a complex group dance, a glance at each other, the adjustment of breathing, all became more and more smooth and natural.
Ouyang Guang was in the middle of it, feeling tremendous pressure but also drawing unprecedented motivation.
He realized that he was placed at the center of a vortex, surrounded by the most dazzling and most promising star in the company.
When Kim Min-ji pushed open the door of the practice room, Ouyang Guang was adjusting her dance moves in front of the mirror, with sweat dripping onto the floor along her jawline.
"Yixing! Xiaoguang!" Her voice was unusually serious, "Put on your coat and come with me to the president's office."
The air froze instantly. Zhang Yixing's hands stopped moving, and he exchanged a silent look with Ouyang Guang - there was speculation, suspicion, and even a tacit premonition in his eyes.
The two of them silently grabbed their coats and followed, leaving only the crisp sound of Kim Min-ji's high heels in the corridor.
Pushing open the heavy wooden door, the scene in the office made Ouyang Guang's breath catch.
Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows is the bustling street scene of Seoul, but the light inside is a little solemn.
Teacher Xiuman sat behind a large desk, with his hands folded on the table, his eyes calm but penetrating.
Standing in the middle of the office were several familiar yet unfamiliar faces.
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