Chapter 2: The Fall of the Queerbaiting Genius

Once the bus came to a full stop, Yu Huaili noticed Duan Qiong staring at him rather strangely. He blinked, roughly understanding what was going on.

Ah, so the protagonist top had only just been reborn.

He held up a finger and waved it in front of Duan Qiong’s eyes, smiling with curved eyes. “Brother Duan Qiong? Hello? What are you thinking about?”

According to the plot outline, during the trainee period, Yu Huaili still held beautiful dreams about the future. He had once aspired to be a qualified idol. His attitude toward the sure-to-debut Duan Qiong wasn’t as dark as it would become later—instead, he treated him like a future teammate and queerbaiting partner.

He saw it very clearly: how many of today’s explosive male actors, male idols, and male traffic stars had made their fortunes off queerbaiting and CPs?

And he had planned it out well too. He’d always dreamed of debuting and queerbaiting with Duan Qiong to become the TOP CP in the entertainment industry.

But the tremendous gap after debut directly smashed him into a daze.

Yes, Solaron-X became world-famous right after debut. But what did that have to do with him?

In Solaron-X, he was a piece of background, a scrap of leftover material. On stage, he always got only a few seconds of camera time and only a few lines of lyrics.

Moreover, because his popularity was so pitifully low compared to the other members, no one fought for him except his own fans. Even those voices of protest were drowned out when Duan Qiong’s and Xi Xingheng’s fans went at each other.

Within the group of four, one could form eight hundred kinds of CPs and ways to ship them. It was just that he sold his CP too hard with zero cooperation from others, which made him look ridiculous and turned him into the butt of everyone’s jokes.

The queerbaiting superstar then fell from grace. Later, he generally existed in the double-standard videos cut by his teammates’ CP fans.

Yes, he was the object of the double standards.

In the mouths of some netizens, group fans, and CP shippers, he was “that teammate of Duan Qiong and Xi Xingheng,” “the fourth member of Solaron-X,” “the Visual who stole Duan Qiong’s/Xi Xingheng’s spot,” “of course the group fans love only three,” “ahhh can you not see the difference in how Duan Qiong treats Yu Huaili versus Xi Xingheng in the same situation?”…

Originally, he was vain, ambitious, but with abilities that couldn’t match his ambition—yet he loved to seek attention. Walking down the wrong path was simply a matter of sliding downhill without a single turn.

He could easily end up resenting all three of his more popular teammates.

But during the trainee period, he was one of only two among hundreds of trainees guaranteed to debut. His moment in the sun was limitless.

Carrying enormous ambition, he was more willing to build a good relationship with Duan Qiong than anyone else.

Although Duan Qiong barely paid him any attention, Duan Qiong barely paid anyone attention. If anything, Duan Qiong’s attitude toward him was slightly better than toward others.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Yu Huaili lowered his hand, a little puzzled. “Brother Duan Qiong, are you feeling unwell?”

Brother Duan Qiong…

At the address, Duan Qiong subtly furrowed his brow.

The burning sensation in his chest from the plane crash had just happened a second ago. So how could he open his eyes to a scene like this?

Was this some kind of life flashing before his eyes before death? But why would he see Yu Huaili of all people?

He and Yu Huaili weren’t close. The last time he’d seen Yu Huaili was the day Solaron-X officially announced their disbandment.

But the familiar yet unfamiliar surroundings were so real it was almost eerie…

Duan Qiong looked at the construction site outside the window, then back at Yu Huaili. He basically confirmed this was him at around twenty years old, back when he was still a trainee.

Just as Duan Qiong was deep in thought, the back of a hand gently pressed against his forehead.

“What’s wrong, bro? You seem off today.” Yu Huaili mused.

The warm touch abruptly yanked Duan Qiong’s thoughts back. He looked at Yu Huaili’s concerned expression and shook his head. “I’m fine.”

Yu Huaili lowered his hand and nodded. “Good to hear… I didn’t mean to touch you just now, I just saw you looked awful and thought you might not be—ah, we’re here. Bro, let’s get off.”

It was probably a common quirk of protagonists—they all had their little peculiarities. For example, Duan Qiong’s severe germophobia. If others touched him a couple of times, he felt it was an offense.

In the plot, the first time he tried to grab Duan Qiong’s arm, Duan Qiong had frowned and dodged away.

Duan Qiong didn’t say anything. He really didn’t like being touched, but at this moment there were things even more incomprehensible than that.

He got off the bus, and the scene before him grew even more familiar.

This was the road back to the group dormitory.

The company didn’t give them great living conditions. The dorm was remote, some distance from the company, with only one bus line that went directly there.

Back then, he and a trainee from the same batch who never shut up would keep practicing until it was time to catch the last bus.

“Brother Duan Qiong, do you think what the company meant today was that they’ve confirmed we’re debuting?”

“They wouldn’t not let us debut. We were both center position at that company showcase.”

“I heard they’ll officially announce the debut slots tomorrow night. Aren’t you curious?”

“…”

Yu Huaili idly tossed his meal card in the air, then raised an eyebrow at Duan Qiong. “Bro, are you hungry right now…”

He was very, very hungry right now. Because his meal card had hit its limit, he hadn’t had a single drop of water all day.

Duan Qiong paused. He now remembered who this talkative, clingy trainee was.

After debuting, he and Yu Huaili rarely communicated privately. When Yu Huaili saw him, he was either subtly sneering or openly mocking. Duan Qiong had long forgotten Yu Huaili used to be like this.

Now, Yu Huaili’s topic had already drifted to whether he could borrow Duan Qiong’s meal card to eat in the cafeteria tomorrow, because his own had hit its limit.

Duan Qiong cut him off. “What’s today’s date?”

“March eighteenth.” After answering, Yu Huaili asked again, “So is that okay, bro?”

Solaron-X’s debut date was the summer solstice—June twenty-second.

Duan Qiong narrowed his eyes. In the span of a breath, he effortlessly accepted the possibility that he’d somehow returned to age twenty.

Being alive or dead didn’t seem to matter much to him. When the whole cabin had been in chaos during the plane crash, he’d only felt tired.

In his previous life, he had no regrets, nothing he wanted to reclaim. So was rebirth—such a fantastical thing—really this random?

“Brother Duan Qiong, okay okay okay?” Yu Huaili wrinkled his nose in dissatisfaction. “Why are you ignoring me?”

Was the protagonist top already this full of himself?

Duan Qiong snapped back to reality and looked at Yu Huaili in confusion. “What?”

“Can I borrow your meal card tomorrow?” Yu Huaili blinked. “…I hit my limit this week.”

He paused, then raised three fingers toward the sky. “I promise I’ll pay you back, and I won’t let anyone find out.”

To maintain weight and figure, the company enforced strict body management for trainees. They could only eat at the cafeteria with company-issued meal cards. Each meal had a spending cap, and there were rules for how much one could eat per meal.

Every meal’s consumption was also synced to the database.

If one’s weekly meal allowance was used up early, they’d just have to go hungry for the rest of the week. However, with the posture coaches watching, it was rare for trainees to exhaust their allowance ahead of time.

Duan Qiong looked up at Yu Huaili, who was blinking hard, trying to appear earnest, then looked away.

…Meal cards actually had limits? How could someone eat that much?

Seeing Duan Qiong’s uncooperative attitude, Yu Huaili grew anxious. He nudged Duan Qiong’s arm, drawing out his words like a spoiled child. “Please, Brother Duan Qiong?”

Before Duan Qiong could dodge, he looked at Yu Huaili’s persistent attitude and pinched his brow. “…Fine.”

“Thanks, bro! I knew you’d lend it to me.” Yu Huaili broke into another smile, instantly cheerful.

Duan Qiong raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Did he look like a particularly warm-hearted person?

“We’re friends, right?” Yu Huaili curved his eyes. “Anyway, if your meal card hit its limit, I’d definitely lend you mine too.”

…Friends?

Duan Qiong furrowed his brow. Were they familiar enough for that at this stage?

He’d forgotten. For him, Yu Huaili wasn’t an important person. He wouldn’t specifically remember things from five years ago.

Yu Huaili casually slung an arm around Duan Qiong’s shoulder. “Let’s go back to the dorm.”

Duan Qiong’s body instinctively recoiled from the touch. He frowned and shifted his shoulder, about to tell Yu Huaili to let go, but Yu Huaili pulled away first.

“I forgot again that you don’t like this.” Yu Huaili curved his eyes. “Sorry… I’ll be careful next time.”

Duan Qiong: …

With Yu Huaili having said that, Duan Qiong narrowed his eyes and said nothing more.

In the dead of night.

Yu Huaili sat up in bed.

The system had been sleeping on Yu Huaili’s chest, but when Yu Huaili jolted upright, it was flung off.

It force-booted itself, slapping its face hard to wake up: [What’s wrong, what’s wrong? Bad Pear? Did something happen?]

Yu Huaili took two seconds to recover before saying: […Nothing.]

He’d just woken up from hunger.

But there was no way Yu Huaili was admitting something that embarrassing.

With that, he got out of bed and headed to the small living room of the dorm: [I’m going to drink some water. You can shut down and keep sleeping.]

So the system closed its eyes and drifted back to sleep peacefully.

Yu Huaili poured himself a glass of water in the living room. After two sips, he stopped.

It was too late at night. Drinking too much water would make him worry about looking puffy tomorrow.

Tsk. Sure, in the later stages his idol virtue had gone out the window, and he’d done everything he should and shouldn’t have done. But at least while he still had a conscience, he should maintain his appearance.

Just as he was about to put down the glass and go back to sleep, he ran into Duan Qiong walking out with his laptop.

Yu Huaili raised an eyebrow. “Bro? Why aren’t you asleep yet?”

Duan Qiong said, “Writing a song.”

Ah, so he’d started working hard right after being reborn.

“Oh…” Yu Huaili nodded. “Do you want me to keep you company? I can’t sleep either.”

He was still hungry.

Duan Qiong narrowed his eyes. “…Are we really that close?”

“Hm?” Yu Huaili tilted his head, blinking in slight confusion, then curved his eyes into a smile. “What kind of question is that… I feel like our relationship is pretty good at least. I consider you a friend, and I know you don’t dislike me either, right?”

Duan Qiong held his gaze for two seconds, then gave a slight nod.

He really didn’t dislike Yu Huaili. Even after Yu Huaili had done so many things that others found outrageous after their debut, Duan Qiong didn’t dislike him.

Because he’d never cared about Yu Huaili as a person before—how could he produce feelings of like or dislike toward him?

“Since you don’t dislike me, then try treating me like a friend.” Yu Huaili casually sat down beside Duan Qiong, propping his chin on his hand and beaming at him. “I think Yu Huaili is a pretty likable guy, you know.”

Duan Qiong: …

He froze for a moment. Turning to look at Yu Huaili, who was puffing up with a little self-satisfaction after singing his own praises, an inexplicable smile flickered across Duan Qiong’s lips before vanishing.

Aside from that brief friendship in childhood, it seemed he’d never had a friend.

Even though he already knew that once Yu Huaili stepped into that cesspool called the entertainment industry, he would be assimilated and changed—in this very instant, Yu Huaili’s eyes looked far too pure.

Duan Qiong lowered his gaze, thinking: in this second chance at life, maybe he truly did need a friend.