A black-haired girl and a purple-haired girl stood before a glowing screen, eyes hooked by its light like fish caught on a silver lure. The purple-haired one, Zi, watched in quiet stillness, her gaze hard as polished stone. The black-haired one, Zha, chirped nonstop like a sparrow at dawn.
“Hey, hey, hey! You kidding me?! How’s she doing that?!”
“Hey, hey, hey! Zi! Look! So strong! Is her waist made of rubber?!”
“Hey, hey, hey! Zi! You—”
Smack.
“Quiet.”
“Y—yes…”
And so it went, every thirty seconds a little squall rolling in. Zha never learned, and Zi’s palm would thump her once or twice. It was a miracle that girl had survived this long without smacking the stupid right into herself.
“Hey… Zha, why is Youxiang’s luck so ridiculous? She can just loiter anywhere and pick up a prodigy. Looks like this time she really found—”
A voice cut through like a cold draft slipping under a door.
“No. This time didn’t work either.”
“Why say that?”
The voice belonged to Youxiang. She didn’t answer Zi right away. She drifted over to Zha, pinched her by the scruff like a kitten, set her aside, lifted the headset Zha had been wearing, and settled into Zha’s seat.
Right on cue, the song faded out, like a curtain sinking after its last note. On stage, Xi felt it in her bones: the solemn stage had tightened her lines, sharpened her steps. She believed those folks would be amazed at her dance.
“Ahem! Xi!”
Finally—surprise, just as she wanted. Xi planted her hands on her waist like a little general, lifted her nose high like a proud cat, her face blazing with “I’m number one under heaven.”
“Xi! This time… you let me down.”
“Eh?”
“Eh what? This time you really disappointed me. You chase flash and glitter in every move, and that’s not good. And your—”
Youxiang showed no mercy, laying out flaw after flaw like cards in a losing hand. She even nailed her for failing to land on her toes, scolding the smallest slip. The little loli’s bright mood was stamped out like a spark in rain.
“…Lastly, my verdict—fail.”
Zi finally couldn’t watch anymore. She couldn’t tell if Youxiang’s judgment was truly that dire, and her heart ached for Xi bearing a storm no loli should weather at her age.
“Youxiang, that’s too harsh. You shouldn’t be so strict with her.”
Zi snatched the mic from Youxiang’s hand.
“Xi-chan… don’t mind her. She’s just tsundere by habit. You danced great, really. For now, go—”
“If you want her back, then you teach her.”
Youxiang’s words cracked across Zi’s chest like lightning. Zi choked her sentence mid-air.
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said.”
Powder hung in the air; silence settled like ash. The loli on stage broke the hush.
“Youxiang-jie… didn’t you say you’d give me a role, talent or not?”
It was her last hope clutched like a talisman. The balance tipped; her plea made the ground uneven. From that moment, the loli had already lost.
Youxiang didn’t so much as ripple inside; she’d expected this line.
“Of course. As you wish, you’ll have a role.”
“Really? That’s great—”
“The price is one month of hell training. If you can’t satisfy me, I don’t mind burning my reputation once.”
“Eh?”
Xi couldn’t believe she’d been handed a condition like a stone tied to a dream. She’d thought she was about to share a stage with her idol, and here came a near-impossible gate slapped in front of her.
“Making you satisfied… that’s too far…”
Somewhere between being torn down and stripped bare, Xi had lost her confidence. In her mind there was no way she could meet Youxiang’s bar.
“So you give up?”
“…”
Two game choices rose up like a forked road. Either way would set her future path. Bad luck—there was no save key here.
Xi was still thinking, but Youxiang chose for her, calm as a winter moon.
“Good. No answer means you agree. Let’s get along for the next month.”
No matter how Xi cried out in shock, Youxiang stood, turned, and left. The door banged shut, the crack of it carrying through the mic to Xi like thunder rolling off a cliff.
With Youxiang gone, Xi stopped shouting. That was when she felt it—the weariness flooding in, her whole body heavy as drenched cloth.
“Zi-jie… does Youxiang-jie hate me?”
“…No. If she chose you, she has her reasons. Go rest. What’s coming next—you can take it.”
Xi nodded like a wind-up doll. She no longer had the heart to wonder what Zi meant by “Youxiang’s choice.”
