As soon as this thought came to his mind, he was startled. The light in his eyes dimmed, and the tips of his ears turned red.
Jiang Muyao noticed something strange about Pei Linyuan. She looked at the smile on his face. Although the corners of his mouth were raised, there was a strange energy in it.
[This man...why is he smiling so creepily?]
But she was too lazy to think about it, and subconsciously pulled Pei Linyuan's sleeve, leaned over and said in his ear:
"Now that you're here, let's wait and see the show!"
Pei Linyuan was completely hooked and became a croaker. She held my hand and talked in my ear.
On the surface, he still maintained a calm personality, but he actually wrapped Jiang Muyao's small hand in his palm.
His thumb unconsciously stroked the delicate skin on the back of her hand.
Special Assistant Wang covered his eyes while watching from behind.
Well, this is not the King of Hell, it’s clearly a big cat whose fur has been stroked.
*
In front of the makeup mirror backstage, Jing Haoran's brows were tightly knitted into the shape of a "川" character.
He gripped the phone tightly, his knuckles turning white.
"Little darling, little darling!"
He lowered his voice and called out, but he couldn't get through to Xiaoguai, who usually called out to him at any time.
Cold sweat dripped down his forehead, leaving a messy mark on his heavy stage makeup.
This made him very anxious, and his originally determined plan to fight for the C position was instantly shattered.
Even whether the group can be successfully formed is a big question mark.
Jing Haoran knew in his heart that although he had some abilities, he had always been able to stand out among many trainees.
To a large extent, it relies on the little ghosts' secret blessings.
Otherwise, his actual strength is not actually outstanding.
Various thoughts flashed through his mind quickly.
He thought about pretending to be sick so that he could avoid the stage performance.
But he also understood that if he pretended to be sick, he would not be able to join the group.
If he were to go on stage, perhaps his fanatical fans would have their own filters and would still support him wholeheartedly.
The staff came to urge for the third time:
"Haoran, it's your turn!"
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