Chapter 11: The Peacock Dance
Out of 166 contestants, the show took four episodes to complete the initial class assignments.
Class A was fixed at 6 members—only these six would eventually debut.
Class B had 20, Class C had 30, Class D had 30, Class E had 40, and Class F had 40.
After the first round of class assignments, all contestants had three days to learn and perfect the group "Peacock Dance" for Hey Brother, Let’s Debut! The mentors would then reevaluate their performances based on proficiency and precision to determine their second class placements.
Following the second evaluation, any contestant placed in Class F twice in a row would face elimination.
In other words, all current Class F members had to move up in the next round—or leave the show.
To be honest, Yin Chengjue was desperately hoping Ming Qian would land in Class F again. But he also knew that while Ming Qian’s skills were abysmal, his scheming was top-notch. In the past life, even though Ming Qian had butchered the theme dance, the show had highlighted his grueling practice schedule—out of 72 hours, he had rested for only six, the least among all contestants. Aside from eating and showering, he had practically lived in the practice room.
So, even though his performance was terrible, the audience was moved to tears by his "dedication." The production team even awarded him a "Diligence Award," and the mentors, praising his hard work, made an exception to move him up to Class E.
Back then, Yin Chengjue had also been swayed by Ming Qian’s "effort," shifting from just admiring his looks to chasing after his "inner strength."
But looking back now, Ming Qian wasn’t just "strong-willed"—his face was thicker than a city wall.
Still, even if Ming Qian wouldn’t be eliminated this way, there were other ways to make his undeserved advancement rub other contestants’ fans the wrong way.
So, by the time Episodes 5 and 6 aired, showing all the contestants performing the theme dance, and the mentors began reassigning classes, the moment Ming Qian’s turn came, the barrage of sarcastic comments flooded the bullet screen:
[弹幕 (dàn mù): lit. bullet screen; fig. live comments overlaid on videos.]
—So what?
—That’s it? That’s it?
—Here’s a joke for you: I studied day and night, flunked my finals, but the school was so moved by my diligence that they made an exception to send me to a top-tier high school.
—Another joke: I devoted myself to painting, but my work looked like garbage. The judges were so touched by my effort that they gave me a "Diligence Award" in an art competition.
—Here’s another joke…
—Who hasn’t pulled all-nighters to get by? I respect his effort, but that doesn’t justify him leapfrogging contestants who danced better. Some original Class F members didn’t practice as much but still outperformed him—yet they’re stuck in F and out of the competition.
—My heart breaks for my boy—you danced way better than that "Qian"! I’ll always support you!
—Ugh, just admit it’s about looks and drop the "Diligence Award" act.
—What’s wrong with being good-looking? Sour chicken? My Qianqian is handsome! Keyboard warriors, if you’re so opinionated, why not become mentors? Hiding behind screens, all bark and no bite!
[酸鸡 (suān jī): lit. sour chicken; fig. jealous hater (slang).]
[键盘侠 (jiànpán xiá): lit. keyboard warrior; fig. internet trolls who leave aggressive comments.]
—Exactly! My baby Qian is a natural-born visual, a million times better than some fake-faced guy in Class A. Stay mad!
—Are you delusional? What does Class A have to do with this? The Class A elites aren’t even fighting for your scraps.
The comment section turned into a toxic battleground.
Ming Qian’s fans, though new, were shockingly aggressive—whether they were genuine or bought, who knew? But soon, the earlier criticisms were drowned out by waves of:
—Qianqian, you’re so handsome!
—My heart aches for Qianqian!
—Brother Ming, your hard work inspires me to push myself too!
—Brother Ming is so motivational, so grateful to have met you in this lifetime!"
Watching Ming Qian’s fans dominate the bullet screen, Yin Chengjue couldn’t help but laugh.
His side had merely stated facts—no slander, no personal attacks. Ming Qian’s PR team was clearly incompetent, resorting to cringeworthy forced praise that would only backfire.
Compared to Ming Qian’s mindless hype, Rong Yu’s reception was completely different.
Hmm
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