Chapter 6: Turning Dislike Inside Out

Before going onstage, Yu Chu checked his in-ears twice.

They’d malfunctioned just a few days ago. They’d been repaired, but he couldn’t help wondering what he’d do if they went wrong again. There was no harm in being careful.

Once he was sure they were working, Yu Chu lowered his head to straighten his skirt.

Half a minute later, he turned and walked toward the stage. The other four followed behind him.

His hips swayed as he walked, making the hem of his skirt flutter with each step. When the wind caught it, the fabric lifted like a mermaid’s tail rippling through water.

He was wearing a pair of black ankle boots.

Walking behind Yu Chu, Jian Yuyang thought, If Yu Chu were wearing heels, I’d be able to hear them clicking against the floor right now… No, wait. I’m wearing in-ears.

The four of them kept their eyes on Yu Chu’s back. Whenever his skirt lifted, they caught glimpses of his legs.

Cody had spent quite some time securing the ribbon on Yu Chu’s left leg. First, she’d stitched it to his shorts; then she’d used fashion tape to stick it to his leg.

While they were waiting backstage, Yu Chu had said that tying the ribbon around his leg made it itch. He wasn’t used to it.

A steady sound seemed to reach Jian Yuyang through the haze.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

He’d zoned out.

Jian Yuyang finally came back to himself. He couldn’t afford to lose focus at a time like this.

Up ahead, Yu Chu had stopped at the center of the circular stage. He watched the fans below go from startled silence to shrill screams.

The whole point of the event was the surprise: the audience didn’t know what the performers would be doing until they stepped onstage.

The previous act had been the cross-dressing muscle-man group Qin Yun had mentioned. It hadn’t been much to look at, but it was hilarious. It wasn’t without its charms.

Standing onstage now, Yu Chu looked even more striking by comparison.

The red lights behind him washed over his pale gray hair, turning it a brilliant crimson.

The fans below erupted in screams.

Over the saxophone’s lilting, easygoing accompaniment, Yu Chu sang the first line.

Neither the song nor the choreography was particularly difficult for him.

His voice softened considerably when he sang. He felt that a gentler tone suited this song, which had originally been sung by a woman.

The concert was outdoors, and the wind was strong that night. It tossed Yu Chu’s long hair about, changing its color beneath the shifting lights as he moved.

His backup dancer, Jian Yuyang, dropped to one knee. Yu Chu rested his right foot lightly on Jian’s knee, held the pose for a few seconds, then briskly drew his leg back.

Several cameras onstage were trained on him, as were the cameras below. During a solo performance like this, the cameras stayed on him for a long time. Yu Chu focused first on the ones onstage, making sure he looked good on the livestream. When they cut to a wide shot, he took the chance to look at the fans.

With a dance move, he swept away the strands of hair blowing across his face.

Yu Chu had the instincts of an idol down pat. Talent and good looks were equally essential. Talent meant singing live and dancing well; looking good meant taking care of his appearance while showing off those skills.

Even as a trainee, he’d noticed that some of his fellow trainees forgot to manage their expressions while singing and dancing. Others were so focused on looking good that they let the quality of their performances suffer.

For Yu Chu, singing and dancing well and looking good weren’t mutually exclusive. He could have both.

He’d adjusted every expression he made onstage countless times in private. He carefully studied which expressions looked best, making sure he was always at his most flawless in front of the cameras.

Spotting fans holding lightsticks bearing the name Spring, Yu Chu gave them a gentle smile. Spring was his stage name.

Still smiling, he turned around. Just as they’d rehearsed, Jian Yuyang appeared beside him and wrapped an arm around his waist.

This section of the duet had originally been assigned to Hughes, but it was eventually handed over to Jian Yuyang instead. Yu Chu more or less understood why: they were balancing out the popularity.

The moment Jian Yuyang’s hand touched his waist, the fans screamed again.

It was cold outside, and Yu Chu’s skirt was thin. He could feel the warmth of Jian Yuyang’s hand very clearly.

The casting change had been made just two days before the concert, but their choreography looked nothing like something they’d thrown together at the last minute.

Yu Chu’s hair had caught on his microphone. He casually freed it without taking his eyes off the camera.

His eyes were so beautiful that everything he looked at seemed to draw out a tenderness in him.

As the music carried him along, Yu Chu let go of Jian Yuyang’s hand and walked to the side of the stage, looking out at the audience.

He’d had a feeling earlier. He scanned the fans carefully.

Sure enough, he spotted Xie Zhixing.

It was obvious that the area where Xie Zhixing stood wasn’t open to the public. It was a great spot, close to the stage, but there weren’t many people around. He’d almost certainly gotten an industry ticket.

That morning, Yu Chu had called him and told him tonight’s performance would be a little unusual.

Xie Zhixing stood below the stage, his eyes fixed on Yu Chu from start to finish.

With so many people there, he’d thought Yu Chu wouldn’t be able to see him. But Yu Chu looked straight at him, and their eyes met.

Being singled out by Yu Chu’s gaze in a crowd of thousands felt completely different.

Yu Chu smiled, then turned back toward the center of the stage, just in time for Hughes’s entrance.

His black lace-gloved hand came to rest on Hughes’s shoulder.

Hughes’s voice was low. Beside Yu Chu’s bright, clear tone, it sounded even deeper.

When they sang together, Yu Chu’s voice seemed to be wrapped in Hughes’s, creating a strangely captivating effect.

For the final pose, Yu Chu moved with more force than he had during rehearsal. He arched his head back until his long hair touched the floor.

Hughes supported him steadily. He waited until the stage lights went dark before hauling Yu Chu back up.

Yu Chu patted Hughes on the shoulder, and the two of them quickly took their places in formation with the other members.

The choreography for the first song hadn’t required any particularly big movements, so Yu Chu hadn’t found the skirt difficult to dance in. But as soon as they switched to one of their own songs, the outfit started to feel restrictive.

His expression didn’t change.

The skirt was short in front and long in the back. Yu Chu had realized that if he lifted his leg too high, his black safety shorts would show. Why not just make the skirt longer?

He held down the skirt and changed the move, replacing the high kick before the chorus. Otherwise, his black shorts would end up on camera.

Yu Chu stood and adjusted his in-ear monitor.

He exchanged a look with Yuan Xiangdi, but Yuan turned away rather awkwardly.

Yu Chu looked at Qin Yun. He reacted the same way.

Yu Chu had barely stepped offstage when someone stopped him before he could make it back to the dressing room.

It was a member of a girl group that had debuted recently. She was obviously nervous; she bowed and greeted him before asking if he’d film a challenge with her.

The young idol looked as if she were still in her teens. For tonight’s special performance, she wore a short wig and a suit. Her features were strikingly handsome, giving her an androgynous look.

Standing beside Yu Chu in his skirt, she made it genuinely difficult to tell their genders at a glance.

With the event’s gender-swapped outfits, though, they weren’t especially conspicuous backstage.

Yu Chu glanced at Fang Lin. When Fang Lin nodded, he agreed.

He followed the girl as she taught him a short dance. They got the shot in one take.

After that, another male idol stopped Yu Chu with the same request: he wanted to film a challenge too.

Yu Chu agreed again.

Gatherings of idols were the perfect time to film challenges. Idols who hadn’t built much of a following yet often tried to invite more popular idols to film with them. It was a common promotional tactic.

Yu Chu filmed a challenge with the male idol and one of his teammates.

The idol who’d first approached Yu Chu was named Lin Zairong. She’d only debuted recently, and she’d been a Yu Chu fan even before her debut. After finally getting the chance to meet her idol, she’d hoped to ask for Yu Chu’s contact information.

But by the time Lin Zairong caught up, Yu Chu and the others had already been called away for photos.

After the photoshoot, Yu Chu finally made it back to the privacy of the dressing room and let out a slow breath.

He picked up his phone and logged into his Weibo alt account. His username was a meaningless string of numbers. The profile picture matched his WeChat avatar: Mr. Krabs from SpongeBob SquarePants.

Yu Chu scrolled through Weibo. His performance tonight was currently trending at number one.

He spotted a post.

[Little Chun Stan: #YuChuFancam# A wife’s beauty is her husband’s glory!]

Yu Chu recognized the username. He kept up with his fans’ activity, and the account Little Chun Stan had tens of thousands of followers. In the fandom, he was considered a major fan.

Yu Chu skimmed the comments.

[Favorite episode yet.]

[Can’t even roast him. From the front, he looks like my wife. From the left, he looks like my wife. From the right, he looks like my wife…]

[If I can keep getting fancams like this, I’ll do anything!]

Yu Chu didn’t mind fans calling him their wife. He couldn’t control what they called him, and besides, he’d never built his image around being some tough, masculine guy.

His looks didn’t lend themselves to that kind of image. He’d feel uncomfortable trying to pull it off. This was simply what he looked like; there was no making himself into a macho man.

Yu Chu remembered seeing Xie Zhixing in the audience.

Where is Xie Zhixing now? Surely he didn’t go home right after watching me.

He wanted to send him a message, but his teammates had already crowded around him.

They’d been a little awkward around Yu Chu when he was wearing the skirt. Now they’d gotten completely used to it.

Yu Chu pushed away the four members pawing at him. “Stop touching me for a second. I’m burning up.”

He took off his gloves. Just then, a message from Xie Zhixing came in.

In the noisy dressing room, Yu Chu held his phone and quietly sent Xie Zhixing a voice message. “I’ll come find you in a bit.”

Xie Zhixing said he was backstage.

Yu Chu made an excuse to slip out of the dressing room and went to find him.

It was risky, but Xie Zhixing could deal with this kind of thing without leaving a trace. Yu Chu still had to be careful.

He met Xie Zhixing in a private lounge.

Yu Chu stayed for only five minutes. He looked the same as he had when he went in, except his lipstick was a little smudged.

An hour and a half later, Yu Chu got into Xie Zhixing’s car.

It looked new. Yu Chu hadn’t seen it before.

The driver closed the door for him, then quickly returned to the front seat.

A partition separated the front from the back. Once the driver had shut the door, the back became a private space just for Yu Chu and Xie Zhixing.

Yu Chu leaned against Xie Zhixing and kissed him first.

As Xie Zhixing held him and kissed him, Yu Chu gripped the back of his shirt, thinking that Xie Zhixing really was a childish brat.

The driver seemed to sense something and got them to Xie Zhixing’s house as quickly as he could.

Xie Zhixing carried Yu Chu out of the car, but Yu Chu’s thoughts had already wandered elsewhere.

He looked at the smart lock on the front door. A small camera was built into it, letting you see who was coming home. It was pretty handy to check on your phone, Xie Zhixing had told him.

Upstairs, Xie Zhixing didn’t take him straight to the bedroom. Instead, he pressed Yu Chu against the living-room sofa and kissed him.

Yu Chu was puzzled. The bedroom wasn’t far. Why insist on doing it here?

As Xie Zhixing kissed him, he slowly took off Yu Chu’s clothes.

Yu Chu was growing hazy when he thought he heard footsteps. He turned his head on instinct and met someone’s eyes.

Xie Zhiyuan stood just outside the living room, watching him.

Startled, Yu Chu instinctively tried to hide in Xie Zhixing’s arms.

Xie Zhixing held Yu Chu by the shoulder and turned to look at Xie Zhiyuan.

Yu Chu rested his head against Xie Zhixing’s chest and sneaked a glance at Xie Zhiyuan. He could feel Xie Zhiyuan staring at him.

He couldn’t make out what Xie Zhiyuan was feeling.

Xie Zhiyuan said nothing. He simply turned and left the living room in silence.