Gao Ming's low-key withdrawal from the competition was like a negligible speck of dust falling into the lake, leaving no ripple behind.
He had only two or three shots in the first episode of the show, not even enough to draw the slightest attention from the audience, so his arrival and departure were both silent and unnoticed.
Sang Qiao and Jiang Kai gossiped all night in the dormitory with only two people left, but before going to bed, they couldn't speculate on what caused Gao Ming to withdraw from the competition.
If there were any impacts, Gao Ming's sudden withdrawal only affected Class F.
As the time for the recording of the second episode of the program approached, Class F had to rearrange their formation because of the absence of one person.
Sang Qiao, being the designated "c" position and the class leader of Class F, had to stay up several nights in a row to help all the members of Class F reorganize their training formation.
Then he painstakingly coached several students who had no talent in dancing.
Boys of this age are unusually competitive and prideful, coupled with the fact that everyone in Class F felt that Sang Qiao's own level was only slightly better than others, not significantly stronger.
In the end,
After a few days of training, there were more and more people in Class F who were dissatisfied and challenged Sang Qiao.
However, Sang Qiao, who had always been self-centered, had never expected to stand out in this program.
After a few times, he proactively gave up the "c" position and stood at the edge of the team like a spectator, gleefully watching the other trainees in a heated competition for the "c" position.
Eating melons was truly enjoyable.
To the point that, by the next class,
When Zhuang Hui came back to the training room, he found that Sang Qiao, who was originally positioned at the "c" position, had quietly moved back to his original position at the edge.
The whole team of class F seemed to be in disarray, without any order.
Zhuang Hui, having grown up in a family of performers, had a serious and strict attitude towards the stage. Upon seeing this, he angrily reprimanded Class F, "Where is the 'c' position I had designated earlier?"
Sang Qiao pretended to be innocent, even when pushed in front of Zhuang Hui, with a helpless and innocent look, "Teacher Zhuang, I can't dance in the 'c' position, I'm having a stomachache."
Zhuang Hui has been in the industry for twelve years and will be twenty-seven years old next month.
Perhaps it was because of his background in opera and the correct and proper upbringing, he possessed a strict character that set him apart from other artists.
Especially when facing Sang Qiao's carefree attitude, his strictness seemed even more prominent.
With a stern expression, Zhuang Hui singled out Sang Qiao, saying, "If you're so afraid to go on stage, you might as well quit the show directly."
Sang Qiao shook his head vigorously, looking very serious, "No, no, Teacher Zhuang, we get paid when the show is on time."
Zhuang Hui: "..."
If it weren't for Sang Qiao's outstanding dancing skills and good looks, which stood out too much in Class F, Zhuang Hui would have really wanted to move him to the edge and out of sight.
But unfortunately, the recording of the second episode of the show would be in two days.
Faced with this situation, Zhuang Hui had to work overtime, spending two consecutive nights with Class F in the training room.
They practiced until one o'clock in the morning the day before the recording, and then Zhuang Hui, feeling generous, let all the trainees of Class F go back to rest.
Sang Qiao's physical condition had been poor since he was born; except for frequent colds in childhood, there were no discernible problems.
But as he grew older, perhaps due to a lack of sufficient nutrition during his formative years, or maybe because of too many chronic illnesses, his sleep quality had worsened, and his physical ailments had been constant. However, he was still young, and nothing serious had happened.
From the start of the training until Zhuang Hui came, they had trained for two consecutive days.
With only three hours of sleep in four days, Sang Qiao had managed to thoroughly change his biological clock.
In the early morning, when the other trainees went to sleep, he was highly excited, even feeling his temples jumping, as if performing a passionate ballet.
Sang Qiao joyfully ordered a refreshing taro dirty tea in the training room, sat on the dance pole, drank tea while nibbling on two pills, then comfortably stretched out to have a rest. He then took a bite of the tapioca pearls in the milk tea.
After about ten minutes,
Zhuang Hui, who had forgotten something and had to return to the training room, found Sang Qiao sitting on the yoga mat, drinking tea and doing the splits.
Zhuang Hui: "..."
Walking up to Sang Qiao, he lowered his head and stifled his anger, "Sang Qiao, what are you doing?"
Sang Qiao took a sip of his tea and swallowed it, raised his face, paused for a moment, and promptly said, "I... I'll perform a stationary split for you, Teacher."
Zhuang Hui: "......"
Zhuang Hui frowned: "Although I am not the creator, as a trainee, not drinking milk tea should be your basic quality."
Sang Qiao, with open eyes, could still talk nonsense: "Teacher Zhuang, you're mistaken, this isn't milk tea."
Zhuang Hui remained expressionless: "Trainees shouldn't be ordering takeout either."
Sang Qiao: "......"
Dang.
So, the first floor has this one advantage, you can conduct transactions with the delivery guy through the window.
Zhuang Hui is slightly taller than Sang Qiao, with a slender figure, especially now that he has just returned from the maid car in casual clothes, looking different from his usual appearance in the show.
A pair of gold-rimmed glasses rested on his prominent nose.
Perhaps because he had lowered his head for a while, Zhuang Hui pushed up his glasses and said to Sang Qiao, "Since you don't want to go back to sleep, then get up and dance a few more times."
Sang Qiao: "......"
Sang Qiao held his milk tea firmly and shook his head decisively, "Teacher, my legs are numb! I can't stand up, you go first."
Zhuang Hui stood firm, extending his hand: "I'll help you up."
Sang Qiao: "......"
Sang Qiao had only casually lied, and didn't expect Zhuang Hui to take it seriously.
The two of them stood in a stalemate for a few seconds.
Sang Qiao pursed his lips and mischievously handed over his hand, preparing to use Zhuang Hui's hand to pull himself up to trick him.
Zhuang Hui's hand was warm, while Sang Qiao's had little heat.
Their hands touched.
As Sang Qiao lifted his left leg, his expression suddenly changed.
Damn, his foot really was numb!
Sang Qiao was unprepared, and suddenly swayed.
The milk tea in his hand spilled forward with his movement. A cup of delicious taro milk tea, barely drunk, mostly drenched Zhuang Hui's peacock-blue shirt.
Zhuang Hui: "......"
Sang Qiao: "......"
Honestly, Sang Qiao had just wanted to pull Zhuang Hui down. He hadn't intended to spill his precious milk tea on him.
Sang Qiao was already hungry. Now, smelling the milk tea on the person across him, Zhuang Hui seemed quite tempting.
With a grumbling stomach, Sang Qiao sniffed and quickly glanced at the few pieces of taro left in his cup. Then, he took a step back and said sadly, "I'm sorry, Teacher, I'll compensate for your clothes."
Zhuang Hui had quite liked the shirt he was wearing. But now that Sang Qiao had apologized first, being too calculative would seem excessive.
Zhuang Hui glanced at the forlorn Sang Qiao standing in front of him, with his head bowed.
The dazzling lights in the training room didn't shine through his thick eyelashes, leaving a small fan-shaped shadow at the twinkling ends of his eyes.
He looked somewhat pitiful and aggrieved.
Zhuang Hui sounded somewhat helpless, "This is a new product for the upcoming Paris Autumn Fashion Show, given to me in advance by the brand. Can you afford it?"
Sang Qiao had not been sleeping well for the past few days. His dark circles had almost completely obscured his original position in his eyes.
He cautiously looked at Zhuang Hui and whispered, "Teacher Zhuang, will you be very angry if I can't compensate for your clothes?"
Zhuang Hui asked, "What do you think?"
After a moment of thought, Sang Qiao continued to guess, "I think you are a very generous person. Your fans and friends all say you are very gentle and well-mannered."
Zhuang Hui chuckled, "Sang Qiao, are you trying to pave the way for yourself?"
Sang Qiao's eyes rolled, and he took off his jacket and handed it to Zhuang Hui, "Teacher, I'll give you this one. You can take off the wet one."
During the evening practice, there weren't many angles filmed, so everyone wore their own clothes.
Sang Qiao's sportswear wasn't a known brand, and it wasn't new. It was too small for Zhuang Hui.
But perhaps it was because Sang Qiao's eyes were so sincere, or maybe it was because the milk tea stains on him were too sticky.
Zhuang Hui hesitated for a moment, then took off his shirt and casually put on the clothes that Sang Qiao had given him.
It was a bit tight, so Zhuang Hui didn't zip it up.
Sang Qiao noted down the brand and size of Zhuang Hui's clothes, found a bag and packed it for him, saying with a strong desire to survive, "Teacher Zhuang, I will work hard to compensate for your clothes."
Zhuang Hui opened his mouth and wanted to say it's okay, but he didn't say it out loud.
He took the bag from Sang Qiao and once again touched his fingertips.
Still feels cold.
Young people of this age are usually very vigorous, and it is rare to see someone with a chilly temperature like Sang Qiao.
Zhuang Hui paused, "It's late, you need to rest for the program tomorrow."
Sang Qiao, overly polite, overly sycophantic and extremely well-behaved, made a heart gesture to Zhuang Hui, "Okay, thank you, Teacher Zhuang. Good night, Teacher Zhuang."
Zhuang Hui: "..."
Before he could say goodnight, Sang Qiao had already disappeared.
The recording of the second episode of the program went smoothly.
The day after the recording was a day off for all the trainees.
Having been confined to the studio building for two weeks, on the eve of the rest day, the entire dormitory was filled with the sound of a revolutionary song that everyone from Class A to Class F was singing.
Xu Qi Ran managed to get through to Sang Qiao on the phone and asked, "How are you recently? Can you sleep?"
Sang Qiao wouldn't admit that he hadn't slept for more than three hours in nearly a week, so he shook his leg and said, "Of course, I eat well and sleep well, very moisturizing."
Xu Qi Ran didn't believe Sang Qiao at all, but he didn't want to say it directly and changed the subject, "By the way, you've been very popular recently. Make sure not to miss your lines in the program."
Sang Qiao was surprised, "I'm still popular with this performance?"
Xu Qi Ran said, "Except for Class A's Fang Yu Zhou and Jiang Tong, you have the highest popularity among the trainees."
Sang Qiao: "Tsk, flattered."
Xu Qi Ran: "Don't pay too much attention to fan terms. The company has given you extra performance bonuses, and they've been credited to your card."
Sang Qiao was filled with confidence for the future, "Thank you Various TV, I will definitely work hard to survive in the safe zone for a few more rounds."
Xu Qi Ran: "..."
Xu Qi Ran: "You can have a day off tomorrow, I'll take you to see Dr. Luan."
Sang Qiao decisively said, "I don't want to go, I'll just be kicked out by him again, I don't want to go!"
Xu Qi Ran sighed, "Sang Qiao, you're not in the right state... you're too agitated."
There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone, and Sang Qiao's tone changed, "Being agitated is a good thing, this kind of program requires a bit of excitement to produce good results."
Xu Qi Ran: "..."
The two had been working together for more than two years, and Xu Qi Ran couldn't argue with Sang Qiao.
Finally, he compromised again, "Do you have enough medicine? I'll come to your place tomorrow and cook for you, what do you want to eat?"
"I won't eat."
Sang Qiao lazily yawned, "I won't go home tomorrow, Bro Jian, you should go to bed early. Worrying all the time, be careful not to go bald."
Xu Qi Ran: "!!!"
Xu Qi Ran: "???"
This little rascal!
He was so angry that he hung up the phone!
Sang Qiao sat in the dormitory for a while, and then, belatedly, reached for his medicine bottle.
But as soon as he reached out, he paused.
His medicine bottle happened to be in the pocket of the clothes he was wearing.
The entire Sang Qiao froze, and he stood up straight from the chair, startling Jiang Kai, who was lying on another bed.
Jiang Kai stuck his head out, "Qiao, what's wrong with you?"
Sang Qiao panicked for a few seconds, forced himself to calm down, and grabbed the phone like a drowning man clinging to a piece of driftwood, "Nothing... just a cramp."
Jiang Kai: "... But your cramp is really scary, are you sure you're okay?"
Sang Qiao forced a weak smile, "I'm fine, I'm going out."
The corridor was quiet.
Sang Qiao searched the training room on the first floor, but found nothing, and returned to the dormitory.
He tucked himself under the blanket, touched his phone, found a number, and after a while, sent a text message.
The next day had bad weather.
It was pouring rain in the early morning.
The light rain, trickling down from the heavy foggy clouds, dripped onto the asphalt road.
An indescribable sense of confinement.
Feeling terrible because there was no myrrh to eat, Sang Qiao couldn't help but contact Zhuang Hui.
When Sang Qiao emerged from the training building in the morning, he exuded an air of desolation.
He casually threw on a black windbreaker, and when the autumn wind blew, the windbreaker stuck to his body, making him look particularly frail.
Sang Qiao pulled down the windbreaker's hood and walked into the subway with his head down, then got off at the last stop and transferred to a bus heading to the outskirts.
After getting off the bus, he took another taxi and traveled for more than two hours.
Finally, he stopped in front of a large building.
Tall and straight plane trees tightly enveloped the white building inside, and a wall completely separated the inside from the outside.
The taxi driver spoke in a hearty Beijing accent: "Young man, what are you doing here?"
Sang Qiao was carefully observing the row of electric wires on the high wall, and he replied, "I'm here to work."
The driver's tone immediately took on a tone of sympathy: "Young man, be careful at work in the future. This psychiatric hospital is privately owned. Do you know what private means?"
Sang Qiao innocently rubbed his eyes, "What's wrong with being private?"
The driver patted Sang Qiao's shoulder, "Let me tell you, the patients inside are really crazy. There have been fatal incidents in recent years, and now no one is willing to come and work here!"
Sang Qiao showed a sincere expression, playing along, "So scary?!"
The driver wiped his hands, "Of course! And I heard that some patients who were not ill when they first entered were made sick after being held here for a long time! Rich people create their own troubles!"
Sang Qiao: "Wow!"
After nearly half an hour, the talkative taxi driver even gave Sang Qiao a half-price discount on the fare.
Sang Qiao happily paid the fare.
As he was getting off the taxi, as if recalling something, he turned back, leaned against the car door, and sweetly smiled at the driver, "Actually, uncle, I'm not here to work, I'm here to be hospitalized."
The driver: "..."
When Sang Qiao turned back again, the taxi had already disappeared from his sight.
Sang Qiao whistled provocatively and walked to the hospital gate, stepping lightly on the flagstone path.
Oh, wait.
It should be the entrance to the mental hospital.
The armed security guard in full uniform at the gate seemed to recognize Sang Qiao. As he walked over, he opened the iron gate for him.
There was an electric fence wrapped around the iron gate.
Sang Qiao walked through the crowd of people in the courtyard, ignoring the various screams and laughter around him, and went straight to the ward deep on the fifth floor.
When he reached the door, he happened to meet the head nurse.
The head nurse nodded to Sang Qiao, "Your mother is awake now, you can go in."
Sang Qiao pushed the door open and walked in nonchalantly.
Sitting on the hospital bed was a thin woman, with disheveled white hair, and her eyes were fixed in one direction, appearing sinister and strange.
Her facial features were good, and if you looked carefully, you could see some traces of her youthful beauty.
Sang Qiao sat on the sofa opposite the bed and casually picked up an apple from the table.
Just as he took the first bite, the woman's gaze suddenly turned to him.
Sang Qiao took a bite of the apple, then waved it in front of the woman and said with a grin, "You didn't let me eat this when I was young, and now you can't stop me, can you?"
The woman stared straight at Sang Qiao. After an unknown amount of time, she suddenly began to scream.
As she screamed, she jumped off the bed and frantically grabbed everything she could find and threw it at Sang Qiao.
There were usually no sharp objects in the patient's ward.
However, when the fruit basket was thrown over, the sharp edges of the basket left a few bloodstains on Sang Qiao's body.
Sang Qiao's skin was thin, and blood soon seeped from the scratches.
It didn't look good.
The woman's screams quickly attracted the attention of the doctors and nurses.
They pushed the woman back onto the bed and sedated her with two injections, and she closed her eyes and breathed evenly.
Sang Qiao finished the last bite of the apple and then placed the core neatly on the table.
Snapping his fingers, he said to the doctor, "When my mother wakes up tonight, be sure to tell her that I ate this and it made her mad."
The doctor: "..."
The head nurse gave Sang Qiao some gauze. "Mr. Sang, if you keep saying that, your father won't be happy."
Sang Qiao innocently shrugged, "Then shouldn't I make my dad mad too?"
Head Nurse: "..."
The head nurse was speechless and could only respond, "Are you leaving now? You only have visiting rights once a month, so if you miss it now, you'll have to wait until next month."
Sang Qiao put on his coat and covered his scratched hand inside it, "Let's go! Thank you pretty sister and brother for taking care of my mom."
The attending doctor happened to be going downstairs for rounds and walked down the stairs with Sang Qiao.
They arrived at the entrance of the building.
Sang Qiao stopped in his tracks, "Doctor, can I ask you something?"
The doctor took the stethoscope off his ears, "Go ahead."
Sang Qiao scratched his ear and asked earnestly, "I looked it up on Baidu, and it seems that mental illness often tends to be hereditary. Is that true?"
The doctor looked Sang Qiao up and down, "Mental illnesses do have a family history, but your current state looks very healthy, and not all mental illnesses are hereditary, so you can rest assured."
Sang Qiao was very grateful and held the doctor's hand, "You're a good person!"
Doctor: "...Thank you."
By noon, the light rain that had started in the morning showed no signs of stopping and instead seemed to be getting heavier.
A car arrived to take Sang Qiao to Dr. Luan's clinic, but the only person there to greet him was Dr. Luan's assistant.
The assistant was very diligent in his work.
He not only prepared the medication for Sang Qiao but also conveyed Dr. Luan's message to him, "Mr. Sang, Dr. Luan says that if you still do not cooperate with the treatment, this will be the last time for the medication. He hopes you will go back and reflect on it."
Sang Qiao shook the medication bottle in his hand, "He said the same thing last time."
Assistant: "...This time it's for real."
Sang Qiao put the medication bottle in his pocket and wiped away a crocodile tear, "Oh, I'm so scared."
Assistant: "..."
The assistant was so angry that he even forgot to give an umbrella to Sang Qiao and turned to report to Dr. Luan.
The rain got heavier.
Sang Qiao, without an umbrella, tried to hail a car for a while but in vain. Soaked in sadness, he stood under the eaves on the street corner, planning to see if any Didi drivers were willing to take the order.
But he didn't find a Didi driver.
However, Fu Xingzhou's call came through.
Sang Qiao's eyes lit up, and he quickly answered the phone, calling out in a crisp voice, "Honey!"
Fu Xingzhou: "…"
In the first second, Fu Xingzhou felt that Sang Qiao's way of addressing him was a bit too bold, then he thought it was quite nice, and finally, after a moment, he slightly blushed and said, "Hmm."
Fu Xingzhou cleared his throat lightly, "Why didn't you come home when the program was on a break for a day?"
Sang Qiao looked up at the pouring rain and mockingly pouted, "I got caught in the rain."
Fu Xingzhou immediately frowned, "Where are you?"
Sang Qiao quickly gave an address, his eyes bright, "Honey, I'm so miserable, I'm all soaked. I want to buy an expensive new shirt, I want peacock blue, is that okay?"
The author has something to say: Fu Xingzhou: My wife is calling and wants to use my money to buy a shirt for another man.
Fu Xingzhou: Trying to smile.
Fu Xingzhou: Can't smile.
Fu Xingzhou: Angry and unsheathes the sword.
Zhuang Hui: Heh.