Chapter 62

The next day, mindful of how much walking her grandparents could manage, the party watched the flag-raising, went round the outside of the Forbidden City and headed back to rest. It was hot, too, so her parents decided to leave the Water Cube and the Bird's Nest until the evening.

After a short rest at the hotel, Li Cheng and Li Jingyu declared themselves full of energy and wanting to see more. Remarking on the energy of the young, their parents looked at the sun outside and didn't stop them. "Go on, if the heat doesn't bother you."

Looking at the same sun, Li Lan didn't particularly want to go out either. The August sun in Beijing is no weaker than anywhere else. Before she could refuse, the two of them whooped and pulled her out of the room.

With the Bird's Nest and the Water Cube still to come that afternoon, they didn't plan to go far, and fortunately there was plenty around Tiananmen — several large shopping centres a short way from the hotel. Walking about outside in weather like this being a self-inflicted punishment, Li Lan took them straight into one.

"Li Lan, there are loads of people over there. Let's go and look." On the tenth floor, in the food section, Li Jingyu pointed downwards with an ice cream in his hand. The building was built round an atrium, so the other floors were plainly visible.

She followed his finger to the seventh floor, where a booth had been put up in one corner. Whether it was some sort of event or something else, a long queue stood outside it, and among the people in it were men and women with guitars on their backs. It was the guitars that had caught his interest.

Li Cheng pulled at her bubble tea, chewed the pearls and narrowed her eyes in satisfaction. Far better than the bottled stuff. She approved. Following his gaze, she found she was interested too. "That does look fun. Come on."

Anywhere that wasn't standing in the sun was acceptable, so Li Lan nodded and the three of them went down to the queue. They'd barely arrived when Li Cheng spotted a standee — spotted it instantly, because the person printed on it was the idol most popular with the girls in her class.

The same photograph was stuck to her deskmate's desk, so she could name him without going closer. Nearer to, there was lettering on it as well: 2010 DS Casting trainee recruitment — Beijing. The dates were underneath. Today was the last day.

Her eyes went wide. DS! The girls in her class talked about it — one of the biggest entertainment companies in South Korea, next door, and the man on the standee was a member of a group they'd launched a few years earlier. Their groups weren't only huge in Korea; they were enormous here as well, and a great many of the girls in her class were fans.

Li Lan had read the lettering too, and knew the name. DS was one of the largest agencies in Korea now and would still be one in ten years' time; almost every group they launched took off. From the heading, this was one of their audition sites in China.

Which made sense. They'd presumably worked out by now how large the Chinese fan market was, and they had indeed marketed to China afterwards, so taking on Chinese trainees was hardly surprising. She simply hadn't expected to walk into an audition by accident.

Li Cheng stood watching for a while, faintly able to hear singing from inside. She didn't know the results, but from the faces of the people coming out they weren't good. Understandable: the big companies audition strictly, and a low pass rate is normal.

Seeing the two of them absorbed, Li Lan looked round. "Wait here a minute. I'm going to the toilet."

Coming back, she found Li Jingyu gone from beside his sister, and assumed he'd got bored and wandered off. "Where's Li Jingyu?" She'd been a few minutes. Hardly long enough.

Li Cheng gave a couple of guilty laughs, pointed at the back of the queue and made a face at her. "Over there."

Li Lan looked, and there at the end of the queue was Li Jingyu, holding a sheet of paper and waving cheerfully.

---

A few minutes earlier.

Li Lan had barely gone when a member of staff in uniform came over to the two of them standing watching, took them for entrants and said, "Are you two here to register as well? If so, you'll need to come and fill in your details over there."

Caught off guard, the two of them said, "Oh — er — right." And, watching themselves being led towards a form, neither felt able to admit they were only looking, and followed in silence.

There was a second member of staff behind the table, considerably cooler in manner, who glanced at them. "Which of you is entering?"

Li Cheng answered on reflex, pointing at her brother. "Him. I'm here with him."

A step too slow and sold out, Li Jingyu turned to look at her and was about to speak when the man produced a form and rapped the table impatiently. "Basic details."

He said "oh" and "ah" a couple of times and, under the kind guidance of the first member of staff, filled the form in in a daze and joined the back of the queue.

Which is how Li Lan came back to what she came back to.

She looked at Li Cheng, amused. Li Cheng knew she'd behaved badly and said, sheepishly, "It's my fault. I panicked and pushed him out."

Li Lan glanced at her. "Now you know. Look at the pair of you — somebody speaks to you and you're frightened to death."

Li Cheng pulled a face. "Not that bad. We came round afterwards and wanted to find the nice one and explain, only we couldn't see him, and neither of us dared go and tell the one behind the table, so we let Li Jingyu queue for now. You're here, so can we just go?"

Li Lan nodded and gestured her along. "Of course. It isn't an exam. Leaving lightens somebody's workload. Come on, we'll fetch him."

Except that having heard her out, he shook his head. Li Lan was surprised; she'd assumed he was queuing because he was too embarrassed to leave, and instead, told he could go, he said he wanted to try.

"Mm." He nodded, awkward about it. The person ahead of him had been on the phone rather loudly and he'd heard every word: anyone selected went to the head office in Korea for proper training, and after that had a chance of debuting as a star.

He had no conception of being a star. He knew only that he was bad at school, which was why his mother wanted him to get into university on singing — so if he had proper training, wouldn't his chances be better?

Li Lan laughed out loud at this, and even Li Cheng found it funny, and said wickedly, "What are you on about? You think it's a free tuition centre? Receive training." And between them they explained what a trainee actually is.

Unlike her brother, Li Cheng knew something about the Korean trainee system; the girls in her class discussed their oppas' training years and audition details constantly, and the magazines mentioned it too — which was why she'd pushed him forward without thinking. He had at least studied singing.

Having listened, he scratched his head. "Oh. Is that it?" And then, as though something had occurred to him, his eyes got brighter and brighter. "So does that mean if I get through, I don't have to sit the entrance exam?"

Li Lan made a small noise. She hadn't expected that to be his first thought. "If you can talk our parents round, then yes, that's about right."

Satisfied he'd understood, he set his jaw. "Then I definitely want to enter. I've registered anyway, there's nothing to lose by trying, and if I get through—" then he'd finally be done with schoolwork. Three years of high school. Two more of middle school.

Seeing him decided, Li Lan let him carry on queuing. The competition was brutal enough that he'd very likely be eliminated — and if he did get through, going to Korea as a trainee wasn't a particularly bad option. It was hearing him that made her feel she'd been down a blind alley. Art school was one route; going to Korea and getting proper idol training was not, in fact, worse.

The queue looked long and moved fast. Times inside varied; the longest didn't exceed a minute, and the shortest was over in twenty seconds. So they didn't wait long before his turn came. He took a number from a member of staff, hung it round his neck, looked at the two of them, breathed in and stepped into the booth.

Li Cheng leaned towards her sister. "Li Lan, do you think he'll get through?"

Li Lan had no idea. She'd heard him sing at home, but she was no expert and could only say it wasn't unpleasant; what a professional would make of it she couldn't say. And a trainee isn't judged on singing alone — appearance matters. Fortunately, while what he had on today wasn't remotely fashionable, a tracksuit at least read as healthy and full of energy.