Training Room east wall, a piece of white paper was taped up.
A3 size, ordinary printer paper, held at the four corners with transparent tape.
The tape edges were already a bit curled, dirty, turning black.
On the paper, two characters were written in black marker:
Four Days.
The characters were big.
Each one the size of a palm, thick strokes, ink seeping into the paper fibers, outlines visible from the back.
Su Nian stood in front of the paper, looking up.
Then she looked at me.
“President, what’s this?”
“A countdown.”
She blinked.
Her eyelashes fluttered twice.
Then she turned back to look at the paper.
From her angle, those two characters hung twenty centimeters above her head, just at the upper edge of her line of sight.
White paper, black characters, curled corners, like a torn-off calendar page.
She didn’t speak.
She just looked.
Training continued.
Raise hand.
Turn.
Hold position.
Raise hand.
Turn.
Hold position.
Sweat slid down her forehead, tracing along her cheek to her chin, dripping onto the floor.
The floor today was cleaner than yesterday—it had been mopped last night—but after half an hour of dancing, dark spots had bloomed again.
Su Nian was dancing The Brave.
Seventh time.
When she reached the chorus, she suddenly stopped.
She turned to face me.
“President.”
“Hm?”
“You… Alice, and Miss Chuxue?”
She didn’t finish.
But I knew what she wanted to ask—me, and Alice, what kind of relationship?
What price did I pay to convince Alice and Chuxue to perform on the same stage?
I turned my head away.
My gaze slid off her face and landed outside the window.
A bird flew past outside, a tiny gray one, from left to right, disappearing into the gap between buildings.
“It’s not as close as you might think, but it’s not that bad either.”
’After all, they’re the same person,’ I added silently.
“Don’t worry too much.”
Su Nian didn’t speak.
She turned back and looked at the countdown on the wall.
Those two characters, “Four Days,” were right in front of her.
——Training continued.
I turned my head and looked to the other side.
Chuxue was at the far end of the training room.
Today she wore a light gray tracksuit, her snow-white hair tied in a low ponytail hanging down her back.
She was doing some basic stretches—leg stretches, bends, shoulder rolls.
Different from when she first arrived.
When she first came, she stood by the wall, holding black tea, smiling as she watched everything.
Like she was “watching,” not “participating.”
Back then, her eyes followed Su Nian’s movements, but her body stayed still, like a snow-white sculpture propped against the wall.
Now she was moving.
Slowly, not with large motions.
Just the most basic stretches, the kind any idol does every day.
But she was doing them.
And when she did, her expression was different.
Before, she smiled—a smile that said “I’m watching you all.”
Now, it was I’m here.
The curve of her lips was about the same, but her eyes were focused closer.
She finished a set of stretches and walked over to rest.
No black tea in her hand today—she hadn’t brewed any yet.
She stopped beside me and glanced at the cup in my hand.
Inside was black tea, freshly brewed, still steaming.
“President Lin’s tea is quite good~”
Her voice was slow, the final syllable rising.
I glanced at her.
Didn’t speak.
Didn’t want to respond.
I looked down at the tea in the cup.
I used to brew it myself—it was an old habit.
***
At the other end of the training room, Shen Wei was also dancing.
Today, she was pushing herself especially hard.
From nine in the morning until now, except for meals, she barely stopped.
Raise hand.
Turn.
Hold position.
At first, she had teased Su Nian for being too intense, but now she repeated the moves, becoming just as fierce.
After finishing the fifteenth round, she stopped, leaned over with her hands on her knees, gasping.
Sweat dripped from her chin onto the floor, creating a small dark patch next to Su Nian’s.
She lifted her head and looked at herself in the mirror.
The person in the mirror had a flushed face, hair plastered to her forehead, bloodshot eyes.
She had been like this ever since watching Alice’s performance yesterday.
She didn’t say anything, but everyone knew—she had been triggered.
Nearby, Xiao Xi was crouching in the corner.
No, not crouching now—she was standing.
Standing with both feet together, toes pointing toward Shen Wei.
Her eyes followed Shen Wei as she danced, as she gasped for breath, as she leaned over, hands on her knees, dazed.
She watched, and she learned.
Watched Shen Wei’s movements, her rhythm, how she adjusted her breathing when tired.
After a while, she secretly mimicked the motions herself.
Raise hand.
Paused halfway.
Lowered it.
Afraid of being seen.
***
Time passed quickly.
Sunlight streamed through the window, moving from the east to the west.
The warm rectangle on the floor crept slowly—from the door to the mirror, from the mirror to the corner.
Mealtime arrived.
I stood up and walked to the training room door.
“Come on, time to eat.”
Su Nian didn’t hear.
She was still dancing, muttering under her breath to the tune of the new song.
Shen Wei didn’t hear either.
She was crouched on the floor, panting, sweat dripping from her chin.
I walked over.
Stood behind Su Nian.
Raised my hand.
—Knock.
“Ow—!”
Su Nian instinctively yelped, both hands clutching her head.
Her whole body shrank, her ponytail swinging.
But after feeling her head, she froze.
Her fingers pressed against her scalp.
Blinked.
Finally realized—it didn’t actually hurt.
I pulled my hand back.
“Let’s eat.”
She stood there, hands still on her head, expression blank.
“Oh… oh!”
***
Dining Room.
Dishes were set on the table.
Same as always, lots of meat—braised pork, sweet-and-sour spare ribs, soy-sauce beef.
Besides these, there was more seafood: a large plate of boiled shrimp, shells bright red, steam rising; a plate of steamed sea bass, ginger and scallion shreds on top, soy sauce soaking into the flesh.
Because the training volume had increased.
And there were more people—Shen Wei came every day, and Xiao Xi had started extra practice too.
Su Nian sat there, head down, eating.
Her chopsticks moved quickly—pick up food, scoop rice, chew, swallow.
Her movements were sharper than before, no unnecessary fidgeting.
Shen Wei sat beside her, also head down, eating.
Her chopsticks reached for the shrimp, picked one up, peeled it, dipped it in soy sauce, and put it in her mouth.
The peeling was fast—thumb and index finger working together, two seconds per shrimp.
Xiao Xi sat across from them, eating in small bites.
Her chopsticks picked up a tiny piece of fish, carefully avoiding bones, and put it in her mouth.
Her cheeks moved slowly as she chewed.
Chuxue sat at the far end, eating slowly.
Chopsticks pick up food, bring to mouth, set down chopsticks, chew, swallow.
Slow, but steady.
The meal was ordinary.
Small talk had diminished.
But these people ate with more focus.
***
Afternoon.
After a twenty-minute break, everyone returned to the training room.
Shen Wei stood up first.
She walked to the mirror, stood for two seconds, and then started dancing.
Raise hand.
Turn.
Hold position.
A bit slower than in the morning, but she didn’t stop.
After twenty minutes, she began to breathe hard.
After forty minutes, sweat was pouring again.
After fifty minutes, she stopped, leaned over with her hands on her knees, gasping.
After ten seconds, she stood up and continued dancing.
Xiao Xi watched from the side.
After a while, she quietly moved and stood behind her.
Shen Wei finished a round, turned, and almost bumped into her.
“Xiao Xi?”
Xiao Xi shrank back.
“I… I’m watching…”
Shen Wei looked at her.
Three seconds.
Then she said.
“Then follow along and dance.”
Xiao Xi froze.
“F-follow?”
“Yeah.
Whatever I dance, you dance the same.”
Xiao Xi’s mouth opened.
No words came out.
Shen Wei had already turned back.
Raise hand.
Turn.
Hold position.
Xiao Xi stood behind her, stunned for two seconds.
Then she tentatively raised her hand.
Lifted it halfway, then lowered it.
Lifted it again—this time to the right position.
Turned.
She wobbled, nearly falling.
Steadied herself.
Hold position.
Standing still.
Shen Wei watched her through the mirror.
The corner of her mouth twitched, but she didn’t smile.
On the other side, Su Nian was still dancing.
She had danced The Brave over a dozen times.
She was slower than in the morning, but just as relentless.
As she danced, she began to mutter.
Her voice was very soft.
So soft only she could hear.
“If you can’t run, walk slowly… if you can’t walk, stand still…”
It was the lyrics of the new song.
She was practicing the new song.
Dancing The Brave while memorizing the new song’s words.
Two things turning in her mind at once.
***
Night.
After showering, everyone gathered in the lounge.
The lounge was small, about a hundred square feet.
Against the wall was a beige sofa, its cushions slightly sunken.
Across from it, a television, turned off.
On the coffee table were a few cups and a plate of fruit—cut oranges arranged in a circle.
Su Nian sat on the sofa, clutching her water bottle.
Her hair was still wet, draped over her shoulders, tips dripping, soaking the fabric of her shirt.
Shen Wei sat next to her, legs crossed, phone in hand.
The screen was lit, but she wasn’t scrolling—her eyes were on Su Nian.
Xiao Xi sat across from them, hugging her pink water bottle.
The cartoon cat on it stared wide-eyed at her.
Chuxue leaned against the wall, standing.
A cup of black tea in hand, steam rising from the rim.
I sat in the corner, farthest from them all.
Silence for a few seconds.
Shen Wei spoke first.
“Su Nian.”
“Hm?”
“You practiced the new song?”
Su Nian nodded.
A small nod, her hair swaying.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
Su Nian thought for a moment.
Her eyes fixed on the oranges on the coffee table, on the circle they formed.
“Because… the encore.”
Shen Wei blinked.
Then they both remembered—yesterday, Alice’s performance, that final encore.
Alice’s show, then the whole audience shouting encore.
For five minutes.
Su Nian had stared at the screen, eyes unblinking.
Shen Wei too.
Now they both understood.
—They admired that person.
Admired the one who could stand before twenty thousand people and still smile and wave.
Admired the one who could dance four consecutive shows and still jump higher than anyone.
Admired the one who was always effortlessly composed.
Silence.
Then Xiao Xi spoke.
Her voice was very soft.
Almost inaudible.
“I… I think it’s amazing…”
She looked down at the water bottle in her arms.
The cartoon cat on it stared wide-eyed.
“You guys.”
After she said it, her face turned red.
Su Nian was stunned for a moment.
Then she laughed.
“Hehe—”
Shen Wei laughed too.
“Hahaha—Xiao Xi, why are you shy—!”
Xiao Xi’s face grew even redder.
But she didn’t hide.
She just buried her face behind the water bottle.
Laughter floated around the lounge, bouncing off the walls, echoing back.
Chuxue stood by the wall, watching the scene.
Lips curled, eyes curved.
The tea in her hand swayed, a ripple spreading across the surface.
I watched too.
Watching these people.
Watching Su Nian, Shen Wei, Xiao Xi, Chuxue.
Watching them laugh.
***
The laughter gradually faded.
Silence settled.
Shen Wei looked up at the clock on the wall.
Round, white face, black hands.
The hour hand pointed to nine, the minute hand to twelve.
Nine o’clock.
She blinked.
Then looked out the window.
It was dark outside, only a few buildings in the distance lit up.
Then she looked at the countdown on the wall.
Four Days.
From her angle, those two characters were pasted beside the doorframe, white paper black ink, corners curled.
She remembered the day she first came—she had burst through the door, pointed at Chuxue and shouted, “Senior, why are you living in a place like this?” thinking it was small, shabby, and weird.
Then she came every day.
Every day was the same: training, eating, training, eating, showering, chatting, sleeping.
Every day was a repetition.
Sometimes she felt bored.
Sometimes she felt tired.
Sometimes she thought, “What am I even doing?”
But now, looking at that countdown—
Four Days.
She suddenly felt.
Today, it was as if she had done nothing.
Even though she had trained for so long.
Even though she was dead tired.
Even though she hadn’t stopped from morning till night.
But it felt like nothing had been accomplished.
How had time passed so quickly?
Her mouth opened.
She wanted to say something.
But nothing came out.
Finally, she just whispered.
“Today… is over already…”