Chapter 42: Xiao Mu: If I Get Kicked Out of the House…

“That’s probably how it was.” In the evening, Su Ximu returned to the dorm and proactively called Big Bro, sharing all sorts of things he had seen that day.

He had indeed spent the whole day in the practice room watching the trainees dance.

After a whole day of just sitting there watching, he already felt like time was dragging, somewhat boring.

But the trainees rarely stopped to rest. Even when they did, it was at most ten or twenty minutes before they got back up.

Su Ximu watched for so long that he even had the illusion something was lurking behind these trainees, forcing them onward.

“I think that thing is probably passion,” he summarized over the phone.

Su Xuanxiao listened quietly to Xiao Xi’s voice. He seemed very focused, but in truth, he was somewhat lost in thought.

At that moment, a gentle stream named warmth seemed to revive in Su Xuanxiao’s usually cold, hard heart, flowing slowly.

These past few days, he had desperately hoped Xiao Xi would chat with him proactively like this.

There was no need for lots of so-called valuable topics. He just needed Xiao Xi to tell him, in that light, relaxed tone like today, what he had eaten, what he had seen, and whether he felt happy or sad before bed at night.

His time was precious, but he was willing to spend plenty of it letting it slip away meaninglessly like this.

In truth, it was very meaningful.

“It sounds like they’re only short on skill to become qualified idols,” Su Xuanxiao responded when Xiao Xi paused slightly. “But even lacking skill is no big deal. Idol selection show audiences often watch the process from zero to hero.”

Su Ximu nodded. Because he felt they were discussing serious business now, he lost many of the reservations he usually had when chatting with Big Bro.

Discussing business was rational, untainted by too many personal feelings.

The better Big Bro and Third Bro treated him, the heavier it weighed on him.

He knew Big Bro ran such a massive company and would surely consider every detail before investing.

Still, Su Ximu couldn’t help reminding him. “Big Bro, before investing in our program group, do you know which water army company rigged the votes at the last public performance?”

No trainees had been eliminated during that public performance, and he was genuinely happy for them. But he wasn’t stupid. How could he miss that those perfectly matched vote counts screamed foul play?

That water army company was powerful—even the associate director was helpless against them.

If they couldn’t fix it, and the trainees got rigged again next public performance, the show would never make it to the end.

Su Ximu heard Big Bro go quiet for a couple seconds before answering.

“I know.”

“Then is your company stronger, or that water army company?”

“Mine.”

Big Bro answered so breezily that Su Ximu finally relaxed.

Su Xuanxiao claimed on one hand that this investment involved zero emotional factors and required pure rational analysis. In reality, it was all emotions—no rationality whatsoever.

After wrapping up the remote phone investment analysis session with Xiao Xi, he immediately ordered the investment department to fund Tonight’s Big Star.

The department offered no advice or objections. In an instant, it hummed like a precision machine.

No need to wait for the next day. Just two hours later, the associate director posted ecstatically in the work group:

【Director: @All Members, at this life-or-death crisis for our program group, let us thank the generous, charitable, powerful, and wealthy Mr. Su, Chairman of the Su Consortium, for coming to our aid!

From this moment, the Su Consortium takes over from the departed investors to fully fund Tonight’s Big Star!!】

Every employee lit up with joy at the message.

Unlike the Tourist Garden staff from before, these weirds were temp workers from the weird world, plain and simple.

After drifting outside for too long and getting bullied everywhere, most low-strength weirds did not crave freedom.

They yearned to latch onto a powerful weird and settle down.

Sure, a stable office life brought occasional life-threatening scares, but it beat the outside world by miles.

The Su Consortium’s reputation preceded it among weirds hustling in Tanzhong Five Cities.

That night, employees who were sick of their rootless days started dreaming of life under the Su Consortium’s big tree: finish Tonight’s Big Star season one, then two, then three.

With a new investor, the program group could keep rolling.

The staff beamed with delight for days.

Even the trainees picked up on the vibe.

But it meant nothing to them. As long as the dungeon held, their priority was grinding practice to become the final nine debut trainees who survived out of it.

New players might not get it, but old players did: a dungeon collapse did not guarantee escape. It just offered a shot.

The flip side? They would lose the dungeon’s shelter and get shredded by scent-sniffing weirds from outside who ignored the rules.

Yes, shelter.

It was ironic. The Tonight’s Big Star program group had dragged them here, and the same group shielded them.

It was like demarcated hunting grounds where only the owner chose how to take down the prey.

Just like that, amid the trainees’ mild concern and the staff’s surging enthusiasm, Tonight’s Big Star sailed through the transition to its new sugar daddy investor.

At the same time, the trainees faced their second public performance.

A show’s style was inseparable from its investors’ and director’s tastes.

Unlike the first performance’s neck-snapping, hand-chopping horror dances, the second round’s song-and-dance routines were normal as could be.

They were so normal that the trainees’ hearts raced, convinced some unseen trap lurked.

In the end, it was just peak normalcy.

The second public performance kept on-site audience voting—to pick the day’s top stage performer. Eliminations were not immediate. Per the new rules, every half month, the program group tallied online votes.

91 to 45

45 to 21

21 to 9

The last nine standing were the ultimate winners.

There were no prizes for winners. To the trainees, it just meant they could exit the dungeon alive.

The staff and the associate director figured the normal dances would tank ratings.

Instead, after the second performance, real fans voted online for trainees.

Even as a mere dungeon gimmick, Wang Xingxing snagged his first fan support site on the weird net.

Security caught a would-be island-swimming female—er, female weird—after it launched.

Word was that she was the Wang Xingxing Fan Support Association president and station sister.

The weird world brimmed with weirds. Niche tastes always found takers.

Wang Xingxing, upon hearing the news, went full fan-service in interviews.

Lines like ‘I long for a ray of light on me,’ ‘You make me stronger,’ ‘Sister, keep those eyes on me!’ ‘You’re my one and only’ had the worldly-naive president bawling at her screen, convinced he would die without her!

Unlike Wang Xingxing thriving in his comfort zone,

Lin Lan—who could barely split before the dungeon—was prime elimination fodder.

Wang Xingxing’s crisis senses tingled, so he roped in his revered Bureau Chief Lin to sell CP.

His logic was simple: if fans ate up vanilla idol shows, why wouldn’t CP bait kill?

But selling CP needed finesse, mainly atmosphere.

Under his scheming, Lin Lan caught small-scale fire in that niche crowd.

Black-red fire, mind you—Wang Xingxing’s station sister daily blasted him as a shameless clinger, a fox spirit!

Buoyed by black-red buzz and smaller CP stan pockets, Lin Lan scraped by in the 91-to-45 round.

Wang Xingxing wasn’t sure whether to celebrate or mourn the eliminated players.

The one bright spot, besides Bureau Chief Lin advancing, was the program group playing straight: eliminees went peacefully.

After 46 trainees departed in peace, the dorm went dead quiet.

Su Ximu’s third floor lost nine.

He hadn’t even known eliminees got shipped off-island instantly, luggage handled by logistics.

No goodbyes for those nine.

91 to 45 wrapped; staff got two days off.

Trainees stayed for schedules and third performance prep.

Su Ximu stood in the dorm, eyeing the red circle on his calendar.

Tomorrow: 31st, month-end.

Over a month in this world already.

He recalled his deal with ‘Big Bro.’

At the first performance, he’d said he’d head home on break to share something important.

He pinched his fingers unconsciously, heart uneasy.

How to break it to ‘Big Bro,’ ‘Third Bro,’ and unseen ‘Second Bro’?

That he wasn’t really their brother. That soul-swapping was accidental, no nest-stealing intent.

Would they buy such wildness?

If yes, then what?

Su Ximu had no clue.

Yet despite total ignorance, weirdly, he never imagined worse.

Like ‘Big Bro’ shipping him to the Research Institute for dissection. Or locking him till ‘original host’ returned.

Such notions never crossed his mind.

Maybe love blinded reason, arriving late. The subconscious already knew.

After psyching himself up before the calendar, the teen drew a deep breath. Like a battlefield-bound warrior, solemn-faced, he firmly opened the dorm door.

Moments later, the resolute youth spun back, grabbed his forgotten phone.

Anxiously, he messaged his sole friend here: 【Blue 242 Leader, if I get kicked out of home and end up broke as hell, could you spot me some cash first?】

【Promise to repay when this month’s pay hits. Little cat holds up three fingers swearing.jpg】