Chapter 63

The booth had been put up inside the shopping centre, so it wasn't large. Going in, Li Jingyu found two men and a woman behind a long table with a broad empty space in front of them.

He took his place where the staff had indicated. Having watched a great many auditions in a row, the three of them were flagging and gave no particular sign at his arrival; the woman in the middle turned a page without looking up and said, as a matter of routine, "Li Jingyu. Vocal. You have one minute. If there's nothing else, begin."

He breathed in. After several months of practice, singing in front of people wasn't difficult, and he cleared his throat and started. "Baby, don't cry any more. How familiar all this is."

All three raised their eyebrows. Kiss Goodbye? Not an easy song — the high notes high and the low ones low, the top of the chorus hard for a man to reach and the bottom a challenge for a woman. It also demands a great deal of breath control, and audible breaths cost marks.

A few lines in, the three of them nodded at one another. There were faults to be heard, but almost no breath sounds in those opening lines, which meant plenty of air. Now for whether he could reach the top of the chorus. They didn't stop him, and let him go on.

Seeing them nod, he took some confidence from it and opened his throat further. Apart from the folk songs his teacher had taught him, this was the pop song he was best at.

"Every time I kiss you goodbye, the taste of love — now at last I understand it." Hearing him reach the top cleanly, the three of them smiled. Plenty of people pick a song with high notes in an audition — most of them, in fact — but a high note is not the same as a loud one, and after several days of being bellowed at they had headaches. At last, a high note taken properly.

DS's idols were famous in China, but not many people actually came to audition. This wasn't yet the age when everybody wants to be in entertainment; not everyone can risk giving up their education to be a trainee, and once the wrong ages were excluded, the numbers were far below what they'd expected.

With the standard of entrants uneven as well, the three of them had suffered for days. A high note delivered that cleanly was like a mouthful of iced water in summer.

The end of the chorus came exactly on the minute. The woman pressed the stop button and he broke off at the tone and looked at them nervously. Unlike the blankness of before, she was smiling. "Li Jingyu, is it? There was almost no breath sound while you were singing. Have you trained your breathing?"

He caught up and answered at once. "Yes. A year or two."

The man on the left nodded. "That explains the steadiness. A year or two."

So did the man on the right. "And the voice itself is good — he can take the low notes and the high ones. From the sound of it his voice has broken already and it's more or less settled."

Had it not, the three of them might have had to think about it, since a boy's voice changes a great deal either side. As it was, the question didn't arise.

Trainees being what they were selecting, the three of them looked him over carefully. He was in a tracksuit with his hair cropped short, but his eyes, examined properly, were very black and bright, and his brows rose in a straight line — untended and therefore a little unruly, though not a mess. With the eyes under them, it was the classic sword brows and starry eyes.

The nose and mouth were small enough to read as delicate, and yet with those brows and eyes there was something unaccountably bold about the face. Not the pretty-boy type currently in fashion — but not bad-looking either.

The woman nodded. Appearance passed. What matters most in a trainee is future potential, which is why the young have the advantage. The standards are strict without being impossible; his technique had gaps and he couldn't dance, but from the last few days' results he was in the best group of singers they'd seen, and his age was right. Whether he could survive the head office's brutal trainee years was another question.

She had marked him a pass, and turned to the others. "In that case — your views?"

Their criteria were much the same: potential first, looks second. The man on the right passed him on the voice. The man on the left regretted the dancing. "DS's trainees are known for singing, but the dance requirement is high too. Without any dance training you'd very likely be cut soon after you arrived." And shook his head, and marked him a fail.

One for, one against, plus the woman's: a pass, exactly. Li Jingyu was still in a daze when he heard it. He'd assumed from the man on the left that he was out, and hadn't expected the woman — apparently the sternest of them — to pass him with a smile.

---

Li Cheng was puzzled that several minutes had gone by. "Why is he taking so long? Some of them came out in thirty seconds." A minute at the outside.

They'd heard singing from outside not long after he went in, and she'd assumed he'd sing for twenty seconds like the rest and come out. Instead he'd sung longer than anyone, and after he stopped there was something going on inside that she couldn't hear, and he'd been in there nearly five minutes.

Li Lan's expression had turned serious the moment the singing stopped without him emerging. The others had come out fast because the judges had stopped them early and eliminated them. His being this slow could only mean he hadn't been stopped, and the implication was obvious.

She was rather at a loss. He'd been learning a few months; she'd assumed he wouldn't be selected, had thought of it as experience for him and hadn't stopped him. What she'd forgotten was that this wasn't ten years hence. Not many people came to audition at all, fewer of them young, and with him scraping the line in every category, he'd just about got through.

In a few years' time DS's auditions would be more than twice this size and the difficulty would rise by several levels. Passing would be hard then.

Having worked it out, Li Lan had nothing to say to it. DS, get a grip. Don't lower the bar and hand out passes just because the numbers are down.

Sure enough, he came out of the booth glowing and ran straight over with the news. "Li Lan, Li Cheng, I got through!"

Li Cheng hadn't thought that far and was pleased. "You got through? Well done!"

Watching the two of them celebrate, Li Lan felt her head ache. "Don't start yet. Li Jingyu — and then what? Are you going?"

"Of course I am." Not a moment's thought.

Which told her he hadn't considered any of it. "Going where? Korea? Never mind whether you're staying in school — do you speak Korean? English, if not Korean? What are you going to do about eating and clothes and getting about when you can't understand anybody and can't speak?"

The string of questions sobered him up by degrees. He'd heard in the queue that anyone who passed would go and train at the company in Korea. He'd assumed he wouldn't pass and hadn't thought it through — and now that she was saying it, he wasn't willing to give it up either.

What was so good about school? He was bad at it and disliked it, and here was an opportunity within reach: agree, and he'd be on a road entirely unlike middle school then high school then university then a job. What was so good about that ordered, visible-to-the-end life?

The other road was hard and full of things he couldn't predict. He wanted to try it.

"I'm going," he said, firmly.

Li Cheng caught up too. Of course — this wasn't a competition. Passing meant going to Korea as a trainee, which meant he couldn't stay in school.

She pressed her lips together and said it seriously. "Li Jingyu, I think Li Lan's right. Won't you think about it properly?"

He had never felt clearer-headed. All the fog of school had lifted. He shook his head. "I have thought. I'm bad at school. Even in high school I'd be at the bottom, never mind university — you both know that, it's why you had me learn singing.

"And honestly, I've no confidence about the arts-student pass mark either, because I hate the sight of a paper. I just don't like studying.

"And if I were lucky enough to get into university, what then? I'm not like the two of you. What work would I find after I graduated? Teaching music? Being a star isn't worth mentioning — the chances are too small."

The more he said, the less he felt he should give it up. Before, he'd had no goal and no other option. Now he'd seen it: he was going to Korea to be a trainee.

Li Lan hadn't expected that speech, and it seemed he had thought about it. Still. "And after being a trainee? You do know a lot of trainees train for years and never make so much as a ripple."

His face wavered for a moment and then set. "I know. I still want to try."

Seeing no sign of a change of mind, Li Lan's expression eased and she smiled. "You're sure you've thought it through?"

Reading the softening, he said quickly, "I'm sure."

She looked at him. "In that case I shan't stop you. But you agree to three conditions and then I'll help you talk our parents round."

Li Cheng, having failed to shift him at all, was alarmed. "Li Jingyu, how can you? Mum and Dad will never agree. And Li Lan, what are you saying? They'll be furious if they hear he's dropping out."

Li Lan patted her. "Don't worry. He isn't dropping out."

She turned to him, serious. "You can be a trainee. Dropping out is out of the question — our parents would never agree, and even if you do debut, you won't want to admit to a primary school education. So you are staying in school, whatever happens."

He could tell from her face that she had a plan. Li Lan always had. He leaned in, bright-eyed. "What conditions? Whatever they are, I agree."

"One." She held up a finger. "No dropping out — but you can take formal leave. You start Year 8 this term; you sit the high school entrance exam in two years. I won't ask for much. Enough to get into a high school.

"Two, you sit the university exam as well. And don't tell me you'd fail." He started to protest and she cut him off. "I'll coach you one to one for the run-up. Three hundred is achievable for anyone who isn't actually deficient."

He remembered her one-to-one coaching and shuddered, then remembered what he was holding out for. For the dream, he'd bear it.

"Three, you have five years. If you haven't debuted by the year of the exam, you come back and go to university. If you have, do as you like.

"Agree to those three and I'll help you talk them round — and it's the only way they'll agree." She held up three fingers.

He had worked out that Korea was only possible if Li Lan agreed. If he couldn't get past her, he might as well go home and get on with school.

"I agree."

"Then I'll talk them into sending you." She promised it readily.

He let his breath out. "That's settled, then. I'll go and fill in the forms. Convincing them back at the hotel is your job."

Something about it didn't sit right with Li Cheng. Watching him being led off to the paperwork, she leaned over and said quietly, "Why do I feel like nothing's actually changed for him?" He might not have to attend, but he still had to learn it, and still had to sit the exams.

Li Lan said, equally quietly, "Exactly. That's the idea. And he can't refuse. Dropping out is not happening, so all he can do is work hard at studying in order not to study."