Chapter 33: The Theme Song Broadcast (Part 1)
In the lounge, Gu Jingyi stared at his reflection, terrified that the makeup artist might give him an unsuitable look. As the center of the theme song, he knew he would be the most scrutinized person on stage. A single mistake could lead to a lifetime of being targeted by critics.
In his past life, Li Zixuan, the initial center from the rival show "Produce 101," had performed the dance flawlessly. However, her makeup—a ghostly pale base paired with harsh red blush—earned her a thread three thousand comments long on Douban. Even long after the show ended, people still referred to her as "that center from the trashy show who looked hideous." Some even blamed her for their decision not to watch the program at all, claiming they were "scared off by her ugliness."
The theme song music video was the "facade" of *Idol Producer*. It determined whether the countless viewers waiting for the premiere would be drawn in enough to watch the first episode. Capturing the interest of fans at first glance was the absolute priority.
"Miss, could you keep the makeup a bit lighter?" Seeing the makeup artist reach for a palette of red blush, Gu Jingyi immediately stopped her wandering hand. "If you put that red on and the stage highlights hit it, it’s going to look like I’ve been punched in the face."
"Alright, but your makeup is going to be the most natural in Class A. The stage lighting really washes people out; are you sure you don't want more?" Though she nodded, the makeup artist was clearly reluctant to give up.
Had it been any other trainee in Class A, they might have been swayed by her insistence. But Gu Jingyi knew his own features: he had a naturally striking, "heavy" face. The simpler the makeup, the more his features would stand out.
"It’s fine, really." Seeing his resolve, the makeup artist said no more.
***
Inside the grand studio, trainees from all different classes gathered. They had practiced so many times that, hearing the familiar intro play once again, they felt a sense of surreal detachment, losing track of time.
The stage was structured like a tiered wedding cake. The center platform would rise slowly as the song progressed, while the trainees of other ranks stood in rings around the Class A members. Once the accompaniment kicked in again, the stage beneath Gu Jingyi—the Center—would rise higher than the rest. The other members of Class A were like asteroids orbiting the sun. When his platform rose, Gu Jingyi received his exclusive "Center perks": a full five seconds of solo camera time. In a song that lasted only three minutes and twenty-eight seconds, five seconds was enough for any viewer who watched the MV to firmly remember the center.
Gu Jingyi stood in the middle of the elevated platform, awaiting the director's signal.
The director wanted one more take of the final ending pose. It wasn't that Gu Jingyi had done poorly; the director simply felt there was room for improvement. The camera crew decided to adjust the jib crane for another shot, planning to use the best angle for the final broadcast.
The trainees below watched the production team's level of attention with a mix of envy and jealousy. More than that, however, they were struck by the reality of the new center.
"The stage lights eat up everyone else's makeup, making us all look like gray, dusty blobs. Why does Jingdi look so handsome, like he’s in a completely different dimension?"
It wasn't just the fans of Class A; all the trainees in the camp had started calling Gu Jingyi by this nickname. "Jingdi"—Emperor Jing—felt perfectly suited to the impression he left on them.
"Because he is Jingdi," Justin added with a smile.
After Gu Jingyi finished his solo shots, the production team filmed a few more group dance sequences. With that, the recording of the theme song MV officially concluded. The moment it was truly over, some of the more exhausted trainees collapsed on the spot.
Perhaps to boost morale, the production team announced that trainees could collect their phones one by one, taking turns in a separate room to have a two-minute call with their families. It sounded humane, but the cameras in the room would remain on throughout the entire call. What was sold as a benefit felt more like a trap. Conscious of the cameras, the trainees found it difficult to speak as freely as they would have otherwise.
Gu Jingyi received the plastic bag labeled with his name from a staff member; his phone was inside. The recording began the moment he entered the small booth. He dialed his mother’s number, but it rang without an answer.
"She’s probably playing mahjong," Gu Jingyi chuckled. His mother was a primary school teacher who spent every holiday either traveling or playing mahjong. At this hour, her game hadn't ended, and she wouldn't be in the mood to answer even if she heard the phone.
Just as he was about to hang up and call his father, the call ended, and a video call request flashed on the screen.
"...Where are you?"
Gu Jingyi tilted his phone up, revealing the backdrop wall printed with the *Idol Producer* logo.
"Brother! Where did you get a phone? Aren't you supposed to be in the middle of filming?!" His younger sister’s voice was predictably boisterous, her rapid-fire questions giving Gu Jingyi a headache. Gu Xuanxuan was in the living room, happily munching on fried chicken.
"Do I look like the type to do that? Look at the wall behind me—does it look familiar?" Gu Jingyi felt speechless; the creature known as a little sister was not cute in the slightest!
"Oh, oh, I see it."
"Why is Mom’s phone with you? Are you sneaking around playing with it?" Gu Jingyi quickly pinpointed the issue and countered.
"Aiya, Mom left it with me before she went out to play mahjong. She told me to order takeout if I was hungry." It sounded absurd, but for Ms. Zhang, it was standard behavior. Gu Jingyi nodded, saying nothing more.
The siblings bickered for a while until the two-minute mark was reached. Gu Jingyi placed the phone back into the bag and handed it to the floor manager.
Time slipped away, and soon it was the next morning. The audience of the show finally saw the official release of the theme song MV. Thanks to months of promotional buildup and the massive surge in discussion sparked by Gu Jingyi’s recent trending topics, the MV drew immense attention the moment it went live.
Along with the theme song MV, the individual "fancam" videos for all 100 trainees were released. In any survival show, the center of the theme song is always the focal point of attention. Usually, the center is chosen before the show airs, making the selection often feel manufactured or biased. Past centers had always been accompanied by controversy—too much face-pulling, not attractive enough, too short, over-acting, or just plain awkward. Even the most talented ones couldn't escape the nitpicking of the audience.
With a hundred viewers, there are a hundred Hamlets; it is rare for anyone to escape criticism. But the arrival of Gu Jingyi shattered that prejudice entirely.