Chapter 58
In the final month before debut, the air in the practice room seemed frozen with visible tension and anxiety. The final debut list had yet to be officially announced, and while Ling Yao possessed exceptional talent, the subtle attitude of the company's top management and the eager pursuit of his peers hung like a sword over their heads. The shadow of the brutal elimination process never fully dissipated, and no one dared to let their guard down.
Ling Yao practically lived in the practice room. His sleep time was compressed to the limit. He would often curl up on the floor for hours in sweat-soaked training clothes and consider it a rest. The high-intensity training made his old injuries ache, but he didn't dare to stop. He took a few painkillers, applied a plaster, and continued to dance. He lost a lot of weight, and his cheeks became sunken, but his eyes were like a sword tempered by fire, becoming sharper and more focused. "We can't lose, we absolutely can't lose at this time. We've waited too long, paid too much, we must stand up."
He was incredibly demanding of himself. He practiced the angle of a wave, the shift in his eyes, the rhythm of a line of lyrics over and over again, until it became muscle memory, until his teachers couldn't find a single flaw. He wasn't just competing with others; he was also battling himself to the bone.
Under this suffocating pressure, Su Rui became his only spiritual oxygen. Late at night, when he was finally alone in the practice room, he would drag his exhausted body to the corner and pull out his hidden phone. The screen would light up, and seeing a message from Su Rui, even a simple "Have you finished practicing? Remember to drink water," would relax his tense nerves a little.
He would directly dial the video call. On the other side of the screen, Su Rui was usually still at her desk drawing or retouching photos. Seeing his sweaty hair and pale face, she would immediately put down her pen and frown in worry. "Practicing so late again? Have you eaten yet?"
Ling Yao would often just shake his head, lean his phone against the wall, and slump down on the floor, too tired to say a word. He would just quietly watch Su Rui's gentle eyes under the light. Looking at Su Rui, he seemed less tired. Sometimes he would murmur, "My legs are about to break," or "I can't do that move right."
Su Rui never offered empty words of comfort, like "Stop practicing" or "It's okay." He knew what Ling Yao needed. He'd gently ask, "Let me help you take a look?" Then he'd ask Ling Yao to hold his phone up to the mirror. From the other side of the screen, like a critical spectator, he'd carefully observe his movements, occasionally offering observations: "Would it be better if your shoulders were a little more open?" or "Wouldn't it look more beautiful if the pressure here was a little more restrained?" He didn't understand professional dance, but his aesthetic intuition and understanding of Ling Yao's body sometimes led to unexpected suggestions.
Most of the time, Su Rui simply stayed by his side, quietly. While Ling Yao continued practicing his movements in the mirror, Su Rui quietly drew or read on the other side of the screen, occasionally glancing up at him with an encouraging glance. They didn't always speak, but the video call was connected, as if the other person was right beside them, breathing within earshot. This silent companionship soothed Ling Yao's anxious heart better than any words could.
During his rare breaks, Ling Yao would stare blankly at the daily photos Su Rui sent him. The warm sunshine in South City, the new dishes in the cafeteria, the adorable kittens he encountered on the road... These simple, trivial moments were the only color and hope in his boring and painful training life. He would save every photo and sneak a peek when he felt like he couldn't hold on any longer.
Su Rui felt sorry for his hard work, but also loved his dedication to giving it his all. He no longer passively waited, but took the initiative to care for him. He would research nutritional recipes, clumsily memorize them and send them to Ling Yao; he would collect massage techniques to relieve muscle soreness and teach them to him through videos; when Ling Yao doubted himself, he would tell him with unwavering confidence: "You are the best person I have ever met. You can do it."
Their relationship, during this final, high-pressure sprint before their debut, far from being crushed, grew even closer and more intense through mutual reliance and support. Every glance, every brief phone call, was filled with unspoken understanding, trust, and an unwavering longing.
On the eve of the final official meeting, Ling Yao finally felt relieved, no longer afraid of being replaced. He video-called Su Rui for the last time. He said nothing, simply staring at Su Rui on the screen for a long, long time. Su Rui didn't say anything either, but gave him the warmest, most resolute smile, then silently mouthed, "Keep going."
Ling Yao nodded heavily and turned off the video. He clenched his fists, took a deep breath, and his eyes were filled with the determination to win.
The stars are right before his eyes, and he has reasons why he cannot lose.
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