Chapter 37: A Super-Fan Jumps Ship

After going through the script with the production team, Lay Zhang stood by waiting. He was dressed in a denim outfit adorned with tassels, setting him apart from the trainees in terms of style. After all, this was Lay’s personal promotional opportunity, and he had brought the trainees along for the opening performance. While it was a perk for them, its true purpose was to build hype for Lay’s newly released album, "Sheep."

The trainees were dressed in uniform silver-gray school-style suits, paired with white shirts and black ties. For Gu Jingyi, this was his first truly significant stage since returning to the country. After learning two days ago that he would be performing "Sheep" with Lay, he had practically lived in the practice studio, preparing thoroughly for the moment.

The dance choreography for "Sheep" was not overly intense, relying on a simple rotating center formation. With over twenty trainees, whoever had the singing line would take the center spot. For the A-class trainees, who were all well-rounded performers, this was quite straightforward. The B-class trainees leaned more toward vocalists, but their dancing was not significantly lacking either. Having rehearsed hundreds of times over the past two days, their singing and dancing were solid.

Yet, when faced with the cameras, they still felt the pressure. For most of the trainees, their experience was limited to the initial stage and assessments. They were essentially skipping the debut step and jumping straight onto a major variety show. It was impossible not to feel nervous. During the filming of "Idol Producer," only the mentors and fellow trainees were present. But for "Happy Camp," there was a host team and an audience of three hundred people. Those three hundred strangers in the audience would capture every move; if someone made a mistake, it would be plain to see. Appearing on "Happy Camp" was both an opportunity and a trial.

After Lin Chaoze finished singing the long, narration-like opening, Gu Jingyi moved into his designated center position. As the song officially kicked in, the drum beats grew more intense.

"Be cautious, do not doubt the world."
"Just change the world; it is better to change yourself."

When Gu Jingyi sang that first line, the director’s gaze never left the monitor. He knew clearly that the other trainees were destined to serve as mere background for Gu Jingyi. The center position was too dazzling; he transformed this group performance into a star and his backup dancers. No matter how diligently the others practiced, they could not compete with someone who was naturally meant to shine on stage.

The director was not the only one with this realization; the audience felt it too. Since Lay had brought the trainees to the show, the three-hundred-person studio was naturally filled with his fans. By the third week of "Little Beauty," Gu Jingyi’s Weibo followers had finally reached the three-million mark. However, compared to Lay’s forty million, Gu Jingyi’s following—both in size and influence—could not compare to the top-tier star.

Aside from a few scattered fans of Gu Jingyi and Cai Xukun, the audience was dominated by Lay’s supporters, their headbands and light sticks clearly showcasing their allegiance. Looking around, it felt like a solo fan meeting for Lay. Most were there for him and had little interest in the trainees' performance, though they politely complied with the floor director’s cues to cheer.

However, when Gu Jingyi stood in the center, executing his powerful, expansive dance moves, the smiles and applause from the audience were noticeably more enthusiastic than before.

Lay’s fans were somewhat indifferent, and under the pressure, Cai Xukun stumbled on a move. He made a mistake; although he corrected it quickly, some sharp-eyed fans caught it, and a few jeers could be heard. Gu Jingyi noticed the flash of frustration on Cai Xukun’s face. At that moment, their choreography placed them both at the edge of the stage. With Zhu Zhengting in the center performing the song’s signature "sheep horn" move, it was difficult for the audience to notice them.

Gu Jingyi covered the microphone clipped to his collar and whispered, "Don’t be nervous, keep a level head. Most of the people here are the PD’s fans; it’s hard to get positive feedback from someone else’s fan base."

Cai Xukun nodded; his mindset had indeed faltered. To these fans, they were merely outsiders. With limited resources in the industry, they were all competitors.

"The show will be seen by more than just these three hundred people. Every stage is a hard-won opportunity to gain fans," Gu Jingyi said, tilting his head with a reassuring smile. "It’s fine. Just do what we practiced, and we’ll be okay."

Cai Xukun was easily convinced by Gu Jingyi’s logic; laying out the facts was far more effective than empty reassurances. Regaining his composure, Cai Xukun got back into the groove. As the music progressed, the formation shifted. Gu Jingyi moved smoothly to the spot previously held by Lin Chaoze. As he danced, he turned his head, locking eyes for a second with a fan in the front right who was filming with her phone while holding Lay’s merchandise. Then, with a quick turn, he returned to the center of the stage.

"A bit rebellious, a bit incredible."
"A bit controversial, but that only makes me shine brighter."

The fan recording with her phone held her breath. Her heart raced, as if Gu Jingyi had sung that line directly to her, addressing the controversies that had followed him since he joined the show. Even after the trainees finished the first half and Lay stepped out, her mind remained captivated by Gu Jingyi—his deep, intense eyes kept surfacing alongside the music.

*Wait,* she thought, *I’m supposed to be a fan of Lay Zhang.*

Yet, she knew that whenever she listened to "Sheep" in the future, she would uncontrollably think of Gu Jingyi. How could this be? No one listens to their idol’s song while thinking of another artist... and yet, she knew she would often recall this line of his.

This particular fan was a well-known wealthy supporter. To boost sales for "Sheep," she had personally purchased twenty thousand physical copies. Even among Lay’s fan base, she was famous, with her personal Weibo account, "Lay’s Chocolate," followed by over a hundred thousand people. In terms of influence, she outranked many minor influencers.

Beyond being handsome, Gu Jingyi possessed the most important traits: undeniable talent and a captivating charm. It was like catnip, leaving this wealthy fan itching for more.

After leaving the recording base, she spotted Zhang Ling.

"Oh, I have some time. Can the first place on the 'Idol Producer' sub-ranking get a vlog episode in the derivative variety show? Great, I’ll go link my account and start voting now."

As everyone knew, "voting" was a monotonous, tedious, and thankless repetitive task. Fans were often nicknamed "data laborers," and without deep affection, it was hard to keep going. But, as if by some strange fate, this wealthy fan of Lay Zhang turned and asked, "Excuse me, sister, is there still room to join the Gu Jingyi voting group?"