After becoming rich overnight, I handed over the system.

Chapter 441 Class C

"You need to rotate your wrist like this," Lin Xiu demonstrated to the crowd, "not by swinging your whole arm out."

Several trainees looked at him with admiration: "Brother Lin Xiu is amazing!"

Cheng Yu'an practiced the same eight counts repeatedly in a corner by himself, his T-shirt soaked with sweat.

During lunchtime, he hurriedly ate a few bites of rice and returned to the empty training room to continue practicing.

At 10 p.m., when most trainees had already returned to their dormitories to rest, Cheng Yu'an was still correcting his movements in front of the mirror.

Suddenly, a figure appeared in the mirror—Teacher Su Rui.

"Working so hard?" Su Rui leaned against the door frame.

Cheng Yu'an hurriedly bowed: "Hello, Teacher Su! I...I have a weak foundation, I need to practice more."

Su Rui walked in and pressed play: "Show me a dance."

Cheng Yu'an gritted her teeth and finished the entire song, panting heavily at the end.

Su Rui said thoughtfully, "Your problem isn't that you can't remember the moves, but that you're too nervous."

She stood next to Cheng Yu'an, saying, "Idol performances aren't like doing calisthenics; they need to be captivating."

She demonstrated a movement: "Look, this part needs to be like a spring, elastic."

Cheng Yu'an imitated it, and it became much smoother.

“And also,” Su Rui pointed to his chest, “the emotion you have when you sing, you need to have when you dance. Imagine you're telling a story with your body.”

Cheng Yu'an suddenly realized what Su Rui had taught him and practiced the key movements repeatedly.

It was already 2 a.m. before he knew it, and Su Rui had already left, but he felt that he had finally figured out a bit of the trick.

The atmosphere in the training hall was tense on the day of the assessment. Cheng Yu was assigned number 56 according to the number sequence.

Watching the trainees perform, his heart clenched tighter and tighter—some forgot the moves, some sang off-key, and some were so nervous they vomited.

"Number 56, Cheng Yu'an."

He walked onto the stage, the lights so bright he could hardly open his eyes.

As the music started, he took a deep breath and remembered Su Rui's words—tell stories with your body.

"Shining star, I am the brightest star..."

The first half went surprisingly smoothly; he even saw Su Rui's encouraging smile on the judges' panel.

However, during the dance break, he misstepped during a turn and stumbled.

Although they quickly corrected themselves, the mistake had already been made.

The evaluation concluded, and the judges discussed in hushed tones. PD Xu ultimately announced: "Cheng Yu'an, your performance was captivating, but the mistakes were obvious. Your final grade is—C."

Cheng Yu'an forced a smile, bowed, and stepped off the stage.

Level C is neither high nor low, meaning it will neither be eliminated nor receive special attention.

"Number 85, Lin Xiu."

Lin Xiu's performance was flawless—precise dance steps, stable high notes, and even improvisation incorporating his personal style.

Unsurprisingly, he received an A rating.

"Thank you, teachers." Lin Xiu bowed, then looked at Cheng Yu'an below the stage, a slight smile playing on his lips—the smile of a victor.

That night, Cheng Yu'an sat alone on the roof of the dormitory building, gazing at the city lights in the distance.

He heard footsteps behind him, and thought it was Li Zixuan or Zhang Shuo, but he heard Lin Xiu's voice instead.

"Hiding here to cry?"

Cheng Yu'an didn't turn around: "I just want to be alone for a while."

Lin Xiu sat down beside him and unexpectedly handed him a can of cola: "Actually, you've made quite a bit of progress."

This sudden friendliness stunned Cheng Yu'an.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Lin Xiu took a sip of his cola, “I just think that if you give up like this, the competition will be too boring.”

Cheng Yu'an smiled wryly: "Is this just a game to you?"

“Of course not.” Lin Xiu’s expression suddenly turned serious. “I’ve been practicing for four years, training twelve hours a day, day and night.”

He looked at Cheng Yu'an, "But I know that hard work alone isn't enough; you also need talent and luck."

The night wind tousled their hair.

Lin Xiu stood up: "If you really want to continue down this path, don't rely solely on 'sincerity.' The audience will get tired of it soon."

Cheng Yu'an watched Lin Xiu's departing figure and gripped the Coke can tightly in her hand.

He knew Lin Xiu was right—having dreams alone wasn't enough; he had to transform.

Compared to the spacious and bright training room of Class A, Class C's place is more like a forgotten storage room—the mirror is cracked, the floor creaks, the sound system is intermittent, and the twenty Class C trainees are crammed together, making it difficult to even turn around.

The training room was filled with the smell of sweat and cheap air freshener. Several trainees had already started practicing in front of the mirror, their faces full of resentment.

"I heard that Class A has professional massage therapists and nutritionists..."

"The microphones they use cost as much as our living expenses for six months..."

"Why? I was just a little bit short..."

Complaints echoed throughout the training room.

Cheng Yu'an silently stretched her body, not joining the discussion.

He knew that complaining wouldn't change anything, and the only thing he could do was practice for a few more hours than others.

Class C's mentor was the young assistant coach Wang Lei. He clapped his hands: "Everyone, although resources are limited, opportunities are equal. The first performance is in a week; those who perform well can move up a class."

After explaining the basic movements, he left with the music, a stark contrast to Class A, where the head instructor personally guided them.

As the music started, Cheng Yu'an began practicing to the beat.

I remember most of the movements, but the power and fluidity are far from what I expected.

The reflection in the mirror made her look like a clumsy marionette, while Lin Xiu's dance moves in her memory flowed as naturally as water.

"Number 187, you're moving your arms and legs in unison," a trainee next to him sneered.

Cheng Yu'an's face flushed, and he started again.

By the end of the morning, his T-shirt was soaked with sweat, and his knees were bruised from falling to the ground multiple times.

When the lunch bell rang, most of the trainees rushed to the cafeteria, but Cheng Yu'an stayed in the training room to continue practicing the spinning move that he could never get right.

"If you don't eat well, there's something wrong with your brain," someone said.

Cheng Yu'an ignored it until a sharp pain shot through his stomach, at which point he realized it was already 3 p.m.

The cafeteria was definitely out of food, so he checked the change in his pocket and decided to buy some bread from the vending machine.

He suddenly stopped at the corner of the corridor—Lin Xiuzheng was leaning against a vending machine, holding a mobile phone and seemingly sending a message.

Cheng Yu'an instinctively tried to dodge, but heard Lin Xiu say without looking up, "If you dodge again, you'll run into a wall."

Cheng Yu'an stood frozen in place.

Lin Xiu finally raised his head, glancing at Cheng Yu'an's sweat-soaked hair and dirty training uniform: "Is Class C really pushing themselves this hard?"

“If your foundation is weak, you can only practice more,” Cheng Yu’an said in a low voice, reaching out to press the vending machine button.

Lin Xiu suddenly blocked his way and handed him a thermos: "The special nutritional meal for Class A is awful, but you can have it."

Cheng Yu'an was stunned: "This..."