I Struggle to Survive in a Girl Group [Transmigration] - Chapter 18

“Rain After Azure Sky, have you heard of it?”

The light and shadows before her suddenly wavered, and then the lyrics in her hand were snatched away by a slender, well-defined hand.

Wen Ling maintained her original posture, paused for half a second, then picked up another sheet of lyrics scattered on the smooth wooden floor of the practice room, gently brushing off the dust with her fingers.

“What is that?”

Wen Ling’s voice was much like her name, reminiscent of the gentle murmur of a flowing spring, pleasant to the ear.

Leaning against the wall, her gaze fixed on the paper, she seemed indifferent to the topic.

“The CP name for Yu Tingbai and An Qing.”

Yi Zhuo bent down and sat beside her, stretching her long legs casually, the curved metal earrings clinking together as they collided.

Wen Ling thought for a moment, then let out a soft “hmm” of realization. The marker pen twirled once around her fingertip before she continued writing and sketching on the lyrics.

Yi Zhuo raised an eyebrow, watching her for a few seconds.

She noticed that no matter what Wen Ling held, it seemed to take on an added touch of elegance.

Yi Zhuo withdrew her gaze, tilted her head back slightly, and leaned against the wall, speaking as if to herself.

“Last time we got our phones back, my friend told me that since the fifth performance episode aired, their CP has suddenly surged in popularity. Their fan community ranking is right behind yours and Yu Tingbai’s ‘White Wind Chimes.'”

“The ‘Bloodthirsty Forest’ stage itself wasn’t that remarkable, but the part where their groups battled in an arm-wrestling match gained a lot of traction and attracted a huge wave of CP fans. This move was really something.”

The marker pen didn’t stop, crossing out a few annotations and adding a new line.

Finally losing her patience, Yi Zhuo reached out and snatched the pen from the person beside her.

“Are you even listening to me?”

Wen Ling didn’t get angry. She looked up at her and smiled gently. “I’m listening.”

Yi Zhuo found it strange. “You don’t care at all?”

Early in the competition, Wen Ling and Yu Tingbai had collaborated twice, with excellent responses. “White Wind Chimes” quickly became the most popular CP of the show.

But starting from the fourth performance, by chance, they were never placed in the same group again, and their relationship grew somewhat distant. An Qing’s sudden involvement was clearly going to pose a significant threat to “White Wind Chimes.”

Wen Ling thought for a moment and replied ambiguously, “Let’s focus on perfecting the stage first. We can deal with the rest later.”

While Yi Zhuo was still pondering the meaning behind those words, Wen Ling had already handed her the annotated lyrics. Her fingertips brushed unintentionally against Yi Zhuo’s palm, leaving a soft, warm sensation.

“I changed one line in your part. Give it a try.”

Yi Zhuo took the lyrics, her eyes sweeping over the slightly faded wristband on Wen Ling’s slender wrist, pausing briefly.

In this era, talent shows had largely become a game for the wealthy. The trainees in the camp were all richer than the last, with luxury items everywhere. Yi Zhuo often joked that she belonged to the impoverished class here. And Wen Ling seemed even poorer than her.

But that shouldn’t be the case.

Wen Ling’s parents were both deans of prestigious universities. She came from a well-off family, spoke with refinement, and carried an elegant demeanor clearly a girl raised with excellent upbringing. Yet, from head to toe, Wen Ling didn’t wear a single branded item. She seemed to have no material desires, didn’t enjoy shopping, and all her belongings were simple and modest.

Her moist eyes always remained calm and unruffled, only lighting up with a faint glow when she was immersed in music.

What a strange person.

Yi Zhuo shook her head, lowered her gaze, and began studying the lyrics.

“You go back first, I’ll practice a bit more.”

After saying this, Yu Tingbai stood up and walked to the center of the empty practice room. She was sweating heavily, with a few strands of long hair sticking damply to her neck. Under the bright lights, her face appeared somewhat pale.

“I think it’s already very good. Let’s go back together.”

An Qing pursed her lips and spoke cautiously. She was hugging her knees, sitting on a round soft stool in the corner, looking very small.

It was already past midnight, and only the two of them remained in the practice room. The finals were tomorrow evening, and all groups had undergone intense rehearsals that afternoon, draining their energy. Most trainees had chosen to return early to rest and recharge for the next day.

“It’s not enough yet.”

Yu Tingbai didn’t look at her and began practicing alone in front of the mirror.

Watching Yu Tingbai dance was a pleasure. Every movement, whether in strength, angle, or rhythm, was just right like a flawless work of art.

She was still the center for the finals, and the difficulty and intensity of her dance parts were unmatched by the others. Yu Tingbai was a perfectionist, so she had to put in more effort to meet her own standards.

An Qing sighed helplessly but said nothing, quietly watching her from the side.

Yu Tingbai had visibly lost weight recently. Her already loose sweatshirt now hung even more loosely on her, giving the illusion that a gust of wind could knock her over.

The figure in front of the mirror danced a few more times as the clock on the wall gradually approached one o’clock.

An Qing rested her chin on her knees, feeling drowsy. Her eyes half-closed, she watched the slender figure spin gracefully in the center of the practice room, her movements fluid and elegant.

Just as she was about to lose consciousness, the figure suddenly paused.

Finally going back?

An Qing rubbed her eyes, gradually waking up, and stood up to stretch.

However, the situation didn’t seem right. Yu Tingbai slowly stopped moving, held her forehead, and swayed uncontrollably a couple of times. Then, as if she could no longer hold on, she collapsed heavily toward the ground like a fragile puppet with its strings cut.

An Qing’s eyes widened abruptly. Before her mind could process what was happening, her body reacted instinctively. She lunged forward and caught Yu Tingbai just before she hit the floor.

But even with her excellent reflexes, exhausted as she was, she couldn’t steady herself while supporting an adult who had temporarily lost the ability to move.

The impact sent them both tumbling. An Qing’s legs gave way, and she fell to the ground with Yu Tingbai on top of her. Yu Tingbai’s forehead bumped against An Qing’s chin, causing her to let out a muffled groan.

An Qing was immensely grateful that she had put on her thick down jacket earlier while dozing off. It had served as a perfect cushion, preventing any injuries.

“Yu Tingbai, are you okay? Are you tired?”

An Qing patted the person in her arms but quickly sensed something was wrong.

Yu Tingbai’s eyes were tightly shut, her long eyelashes trembling slightly, and her face grew even paler.

What’s going on?

“I’ll go get help. Don’t worry.”

An Qing panicked. She carefully laid Yu Tingbai on the floor and stood up to seek assistance.

A tugging force came from behind a slender hand had grabbed the hem of her clothes.

An Qing froze for a moment, then turned to look behind her. She saw Yu Tingbai’s lips move slightly, struggling to utter a few indistinct syllables.

What was she saying?

An Qing quickly leaned in to listen carefully.

Yu Tingbai released her, raised a hand to point toward the soft stool where her jacket lay, and repeated softly.

“Pocket.”

Understanding, An Qing hurried over and retrieved the contents from Yu Tingbai’s jacket pocket.

It was a small, ordinary can of candy, its metal casing gleaming faintly.

Suddenly, she realized something.

Could it be low blood sugar?

An Qing opened the lid and tipped it into her palm, only to find it empty.

Seeing the empty can, Yu Tingbai’s expression instantly darkened.

But the next moment, she watched as An Qing reached into her own pocket, pulled out a few colorful candies wrapped in cellophane, and carefully held them out to her.

“Will these do?”

Noticing the other’s affirmative look, An Qing quickly unwrapped one and placed it into her mouth.

The candy rolled once on her tongue, its refreshing sweetness quickly spreading through her mouth.

It was sweeter than any she had ever tasted.

The rustle of fabric sounded beside her ear, and then the back of her neck was gently lifted and placed on something soft.

When she realized her head was resting on An Qing’s thigh, Yu Tingbai stiffened involuntarily for a moment. She looked up and met those worried, water-blue eyes.

An Qing looked back, bringing a bottle of water with its cap unscrewed to her lips.

The feeling of discomfort grew stronger, but she lacked the strength to move. Yu Tingbai clenched her fingers slightly and ultimately chose to take a small sip.

As the candy melted faster, Yu Tingbai closed her eyes and focused on it, the intense discomfort quickly easing.

It felt as though something in her heart was melting along with the candy.

“Feeling better?”

An Qing’s voice was like a soft feather, gently brushing past her ear.

Yu Tingbai hummed in response and struggled to sit up, only to be held back by the other.

“Rest a little longer. I’ll help you back to rest later.”

Tomorrow was the finals, with a packed recording schedule from morning till night. So Yu Tingbai had to rest tonight, even if she wanted to practice An Qing would drag her back if necessary.

Fortunately, Yu Tingbai chose to compromise. She lay quietly for a while before suddenly speaking.

“Why do you have candy?”

During their time training together, An Qing had never eaten candy. The moment An Qing produced the candies, something in her heart had surged forth, and she couldn’t hold back from asking.

An Qing paused, as if surprised by the question. After a few seconds of silence, she answered truthfully.

“Last time at the convenience store, didn’t you buy some candy?”

She pursed her lips and said softly,

“I thought you liked it, so I kept a few with me.”

Perhaps the light was too harsh, making her eyes sting a little.

Yu Tingbai closed her eyes, tucking away those fragile emotions.

Suddenly, an image uncontrollably surfaced in her mind.

It was a few nights ago, after training had ended. The moon was bright, the stars sparse, and the tree shadows swayed.

An Qing walked beside her, intermittently humming a little tune.

The pitch was too high, and halfway through, her voice cracked, starkly out of place in the quiet night.

It made Yu Tingbai, who had been in a bad mood, chuckle softly.

An Qing cleared her throat sheepishly and defended herself in a small voice.

“Don’t laugh at me, even celebrities make mistakes sometimes.”

She then seemed to remember something and leaned in with a playful grin.

“You’re too tense you should smile more often.”

Her sapphire-blue eyes sparkled, carrying a peculiar warmth that gradually enveloped her.

Anqing didn’t understand her heavy worries, her weariness, or her gloom, yet she stubbornly stayed by her side. And when she could no longer hold on, Anqing reached out and caught her.

Though she was reluctant to admit it, she found herself pondering a question more and more frequently lately.

If she had met the Anqing of today a little earlier, perhaps life wouldn’t have been so bitterly long.

She had walked a long path alone, and she yearned for a place to rest.

“Don’t be sad.”

As if sensing her low spirits, a soft hand gently stroked her forehead. The tone was light, almost as if coaxing a child.

“In the future, I’ll give you lots and lots of candy.”