The Idol Group and the Crown

Long Ji was 17 years old this year. When he accompanied his friend to Beicheng for an interview, he was pulled in by the staff and said that he passed on the spot.

When the judges asked, he realized that he didn't even get the registration form, and temporarily took a blank form to cover all four chapters.

In this case, he told Huo Jian as a joke, but his tone was very natural, not like he was showing it.

"I am an art student, and I wanted to go abroad to study acting. It would be nice to come over and try."

Huo Jian went to the next office with him to register his name, and found that he didn't even bring a backpack.

"You don't sleep here tonight?"

"I didn't plan to eat here for dinner," Long Xiaozi shook his head: "Will you pick up when my driver comes to pick you up?"

"Nope," Huo Jian paused and said, "What do you think... tomorrow's problem?"

"I can guess the topic of the day after tomorrow." Long Ji adjusted her hair against the glass wall, as if chatting: "Dance, vocal music, performance, all three."

Dance requires enough physical strength as a basic support, and running five kilometers is just an appetizer.

Huo Jian reads books in his spare time, and has not understood these things before.

"And performances?"

"Well, it's not enough to sing and dance alone." Long Jia looked at him sideways, teaching like his predecessors: "You still have to be contagious, so that everyone on stage can follow the show."

"Where did you learn these?"

"Learn..." Long Ji thought for a while: "Go to a few concerts and sit in the front row."

In a few words of kung fu, his friend just jumped over the rope and handed over the work, ran over with the bag and greeted him.

Huo Jian walked back to the training hall after saying goodbye to them, and found the staff to borrow a rope to jump to six in the evening, and then followed the crowd to the cafeteria.

Eat three bowls of rice without saying a word.

The next day there were only 300 people on the field, and the screening effect was quite good.

Most people do not do this without physical strength, but think it is too boring and too long. Some people even jump to 5:30 to finish the number. The rope is thrown away and the company is really **** ill.

The new examiner is also a teaching assistant. After a brief introduction, he opened the six high-definition LCD screens on the training ground. The contents on the left and right sides are different.

On the left is a staff, on the right is playing audio.

"The test questions are free to choose and can be changed in the middle." The assistant teacher stood on the high platform with a strong and powerful voice: "Select the left side, memorize the scores and write over them. You can come over and sign and leave with 95% accuracy-but you can only write silently once ."

"Choose the right side, come over and find out the frequency band of one pitch from the 100 audios, you can go as well."

"Limited time to three o'clock in the afternoon, do not submit the results to be invalid."

The preparatory trainees dispersed.

Huo Jian stood in the middle, not seeing the little red hair and mp4 youths yesterday, knowing that they had been brushed off.

He went to the right first.

A group of people had squatted beside the speaker, listening with their ears upright.

Audio is not a piece of music, it is a meaningless buzz.

"This is the absolute sound sense," someone murmured, "let me go to the left."

A few nodded next to each other, followed him to withdraw.

Huo Jian did not find a pattern after listening for a while, and turned to the left.

When he heard the word "remember", he was already relieved. He came to the right with pure curiosity and wanted to see the question.

A lot of people were surrounded by the screen on the left, chatting loudly.

"This is k330, Mozart's first movement in c major!"

"Fuck, I haven't learned that piano yet!"

There are also people who are very amateurs, and the position of the station is so confused.

"Dude teach me, how to recognize these staffs? Which line is shaking?"

"You sing a hairy song without learning the music notation, just stay there!"

"Hey, you can't sing without knowing the little tadpoles."

Huo Jian stood on the outer edge and looked at the score again. He had an image in his heart like a copier.

He was not in a hurry to hand in the papers, and continued to observe how different people answered the questions.

Some people did not study music theory. They went to bed in the middle and high school music class. At this time, they took pictures with their mobile phones and began to count the position and number of notes.

There are also a few who grew up from elementary school music. At this time, they started to hum melody unmanned. They sang to the score twice and determined the details in their hearts. Then they turned to the teaching assistant to ask for a blank score.

Long Jia was almost late today, and he was still teaching his friends how to write music.

He saw Huo Jian from a distance, and waved with a smile.

Huo Jian smiled back, looked at the big screen again, and carried the bag to the answering area.

"You can hum, but keep your voice low, don't quarrel with the people next to you." Several staff members patrolled the table like a proctor: "Don't use your mobile phone to check now, here the camera is clear."

Huo Jian led the staff, looking at the book a little strange.

He used to do provincial examination papers and national competition papers, but he did not answer the questions on the staff.

The teenager was in a daze for a while, thinking that his life has started to run away like a wild dog, let’s just use the staff.

He opened his eyes, and the four pictures he saw just now were tiled and enlarged in front of him, and the position of each note was very clear.

It’s okay to just fill it in, it’s not difficult.

So when it comes to submission, he is the eleventh.

"Full score," the assistant teacher raised a smile and covered a chapter. He asked casually, "How many years have I studied piano? Basic skills are good. I didn't see you humming just now."

"Never learned." Huo Jian said the truth.

"Don't learn?! Really fake?!"

Huo Jian was about to speak, and saw Long Ji sitting in the distance waving his hand, drinking freshly squeezed juice with his legs raised.

"The kid is the first again," the assistant coach said in a small voice: "At first glance, it is the rich, and the watches he wears are all Chopard."

...Isn't Chopard a pianist?

He gave a short answer and walked over after signing.

"You're quick," Long Ji smiled and handed him a bottle of mango juice with a bright smile: "Just squeezed before going out, try it."

Huo Jian is not good at coping with this kind of natural acquaintance, but still drinks it obediently.

While he was growing up, he had an instinctive desire for oil and sugar.

"My friend is estimated to kneel this round, and he is crying now." Long Ji yawned: "Today's examination and singing, it must be a performance tomorrow."

Huo Jian capped the mango juice and rubbed his fingertips against the smooth glass bottle.

"You... intend to be an idol?"

The TV at his home had been broken for several years, and he was a bit at a loss when saying the word.

"Try it, it sounds fun." Long Ji said: "If you fail, you can take the TOEFL test. It's nothing."

"If you haven't learned acting, I will teach you a very useful method." The teenager approached him and lowered his voice: "Must find a most memorable memory, and then empathize."

Huo Jian didn't expect him to take the initiative to help himself, very confirming the details: "Any memory is fine?"

"Yes, you think in your mind, people outside will not know." Long Ji smiled and said: "Guaranteed to be useful."

The little master disappeared at noon, and did not return to the dormitory at night. Presumably it was too much to abandon the conditions here.

Huo Jian couldn't hold it back. An extra apple was added for dinner. The abusive stomach was about to sing hymns on the spot.

When we assembled on the third day, there were only 80 people left.

Yesterday there was a crying wolf in the training ground, even the cleaners were bothered.

Huo Jian didn't sleep well at night, and the two of the upper bunkers chatted until one o'clock in the morning.

For a while, it was said that someone had an accuracy rate of just 94%, and he wished to kneel down and ask for help.

After a while chatting about someone cheating in a group, the staff took the mop and banged it out.

The verbal abuse continued, and all the dialects from various regions came out.

"Today is the third day and the last round of screening."

aya wore a neat black short dress with a beautiful waistline like a cheetah.

"The content of the assessment is performance, and the topic is very simple."

"Give you a song, cry before you finish singing."

She paused for a moment, saw the silence below, and added: "There are fifty places in total, first come first served, who will come?"

Long Ji first raised his hand: "I."

Everyone was used to this top student and silently gave way.

Huo Jian watched Long Ji walk generously onto the stage and heard someone scream behind him.

"Wealthy people are amazing, didn't they just ask the teacher to make up the lesson."

Unexpectedly played perfectly.

Aya was very impressed by the reserve student, and after finishing his achievements in the roster, he asked, "Who is next?"

Huo Jian raised his hand.

In the third round, there is no need to hide anything for this kind of problem.

He took the microphone and pointed to the song machine that Mei Heng's "Why Not Forget" that was sung during the previous interview.

Then the regular prelude sounded without even symbolic shaking.

When the first line of lyrics lit up on the screen, his tears rolled out, and the two lines dripped straight down, as if he had already prepared.

If he had not checked the backpack pocket of the preparatory student in advance, aya simply suspected that he had used it.

She froze for a long time, and raised her hand to turn off the accompaniment.

"You... have a deep affection for this song?"

Huo Jian wiped away his tears, confirmed that the score was registered and went out, went straight to the bathroom to wash his face.

The young man in the mirror looked indifferently, and the drops of water on the tip of his nose and cheeks dropped down.

He wiped his face clean and did not leave for a while.

Not deeply affectionate. As long as he lowered his head, he could cry out without awakening any feelings.

Father started drinking alcohol four years ago, and if he drinks too much, he will hit people.

The police had also been there, and after several attempts, it was useless.

The man lived like a dog in the eyes of outsiders, and he especially liked to watch people cry when he returned home.

At first, she stopped crying until her mother cried. When her mother died in a car accident, she began to beat him on the hanger.

He had nowhere else to borrow homework to write homework. He gradually cried more and more proficiently. At the end, he had no feelings. He coped with tears and calmly waited for the man to go away. He wiped his face and continued to read.

There was no one in the bathroom, only the sound of running water.

"Huo Jian." He looked up at himself in the mirror and called out for his mother.

I heard that when I was born, my grandfather insisted on being named Ran, hoping that he would burn like a fire.

Mother's face was full of shame when she talked about it.

"You were born in such a home, destined to suffer a lot."

"I named you Blade because you have a sharp edge."

"You have to sharpen your edge before you can live alone."

"Ho Blade."

He looked at himself in the mirror, his eyes cold.

"This is the last time you cry."