Chen Kai's predictions, over the next forty-eight hours, came true with astonishing accuracy.
First came the invisible isolation. In the cafeteria, contestants who used to nod and greet him now either ignored him or silently stopped talking when he approached, looking at him with eyes that mixed pity, scrutiny, and alienation. Even A-Jie, who had previously "escaped" with him, only hurriedly said "Take care, buddy" in a secluded corner before daring not to approach him further.
Next came the obvious shift in resources from the production team. The promised "further notice" for the promotional photo shoot never materialized. During training, the cameramen's lenses seemed to have a built-in filter, always cleverly avoiding him or only showing a blurry distant shot. The dance teacher in charge of his group became businesslike, even impatient, giving him as little guidance as possible.
Then, the results of the second round of elimination's "online popularity score" were announced in a bizarre way. The official partner platform's data backend underwent a "temporary maintenance." After the maintenance, Lin Chen's votes, which had barely squeezed into the middle ranks, plummeted to the bottom few. Several contestants ahead of him were among those who had been "active" at the drinking party that night. The official explanation was dismissive—"The system cleared abnormal vote-rigging data."
"Abnormal vote-rigging?" Lin Chen stared at the pitiful number next to his name on his phone, feeling a chill run down his spine. He didn't even have the means or the money to rig votes.
What put him under the most pressure was the song selection round in the third round. The program changed its previous method of allowing contestants to choose their own songs or draw lots, instead having "mentors assign songs based on the contestants' characteristics." The euphemism was "tailored instruction to unlock potential."
Lin Chen was assigned a recently popular electronic dance track, extremely fast-paced, filled with electronic music and rap sections, completely different from his usual lyrical and folk style.
"This song can showcase a different side of you, give it a try!" The director in charge of informing him spoke casually, but his eyes held a hint of anticipation.
Possibilities? Lin Chen looked at the densely packed rhythmic points and awkward English rap lyrics on the sheet music and knew in his heart that this wasn't a challenge, but a deliberate attempt to make things difficult. Asking a folk singer who only played guitar to perform an electronic dance track requiring strong dance moves and a sense of rhythm was predictable—either he'd be breathless and his dance stiff, becoming a laughingstock, or he simply wouldn't be able to complete it.
He could almost foresee how the judges would comment: "It's commendable to try, but the song choice really doesn't suit you." "It exposes your technical shortcomings and stylistic limitations."
That was the result they wanted. To eliminate him "naturally" and gracefully because of "insufficient ability."
"What should I do?" The training room was empty. Lin Chen stared at the cold mirror, trying the unfamiliar melody and movements again and again, feeling an unprecedented sense of frustration. He couldn't remember the dance moves, couldn't keep the rhythm, and the intense electronic beats made his eardrums ache, shattering the little confidence he had painstakingly built up.
He sat exhausted on the floor, sweat streaming down his forehead. He took out his phone and instinctively opened the "Echo" app. His account was flooded with unfamiliar, malicious comments.