Chapter Eight: The Night of Disbandment

RUIKO, derived from the Japanese pronunciation of "tears." Consequently, the boy band Yu Wei belongs to, RUIKO1, is often referred to in the industry as the "Tearful Group."

To say they are popular would be an exaggeration; the craze for boy and girl groups in the country has largely passed over the last few years, and aside from a core base of fans, few pay them any mind. Yet, to say they are completely unpopular would also be inaccurate. Excluding Yu Wei, the slacker of the group, the other six members have all been doing quite well for themselves.

In the current environment of the domestic entertainment industry, it is no small feat for a seven-member group to stick together for four years without a single scandal. While one might argue that this is the bare minimum, many celebrities struggle even with that; this group’s reputation is entirely sustained by the comparison to their peers. This disbandment serves as a proper conclusion to their journey.

"Heart Wall... Yu Wei, did you change your song?"

Except for Zhang Lingye, the other five members only realized Yu Wei had switched his song after seeing the final program list—and it was a song they had never heard before. Just by looking at the title, it was impossible to tell what genre it belonged to.

"Yeah, it’s the final dance. Just leaving a memento."

Yu Wei had no intention of bragging. Web novel authors generally like to feign being novices; compared to those big-name authors who shamelessly ask newcomers to carry them, he felt he had only just scratched the surface.

"The final dance, really?" Zhang Lingye didn't have the heart to call his bluff. If he could write a song like this, would the company really let him go? Forget terminating his contract; they would likely shift all their resources into developing him. Yu Wei’s future prospects would likely be even better than theirs.

What made it harder for Zhang to keep a straight face was that the other members actually believed Yu Wei, even going so far as to comfort him about not having any regrets. Zhang Lingye desperately wanted to laugh, but then he remembered that he, too, had been fooled by Yu Wei at the start. He couldn't be the only one to suffer. Zhang decided not to tell the others just yet; they deserved to taste the same saltiness he had endured. The thought of their expressions when they heard Yu Wei sing on stage made him want to chuckle.

Yu Wei was surprised that Zhang kept his mouth shut, but it was for the best; it saved him the trouble of explaining. Determining the program was just the beginning. To make the performance as perfect as possible, he still had to put in the work. Practice and study were both indispensable. A live performance isn't just about the quality of the song; it is deeply tied to the performer's mindset, their condition on the day, and their stage experience. It’s like how a professional race car driver might still fail a basic driving test. Even if he had mastered the song perfectly, he couldn't afford to slack off; all necessary preparations had to be made.

Fortunately, his novel’s content had been a bit dull over the past two days, allowing him to focus more on rehearsals. After the climax of the protagonist's performance, the rest was just wrap-up and organization—the easiest parts to "pad out" with word count. On one hand, he could describe the shift in the world's attitude toward the protagonist; on the other, the protagonist, now caught in the whirlwind of popularity, still had to maintain his cool. However, one must be careful: after the protagonist "steals" the song—that is, after the performance—he shouldn't be written as too arrogant.

The protagonist is a literary plagiarist; he can act cool, but he cannot truly treat others' songs as his own. Humility brings benefit, while arrogance brings loss; after a sharp display, the protagonist needs to be a bit more tactful to make the character more likable.

"Time to think about the second story arc."

Yu Wei had just begun to consider the new plot when a small detail crossed his mind: copyright! After the protagonist sings, the copyright issue must be addressed. Some readers take this very seriously; it could be glossed over briefly, but it could not be ignored. A person toils away their whole life to build a foundation; benefits are only secure when they are actually in hand—you can't live on empty promises.

Usually, after a protagonist in an entertainment novel sings, the next step is to record a variety show. It’s a convenient way to expand character relationships and help the protagonist formally integrate into the industry. Yu Wei intended to do the same, though he hadn't decided on the type of show yet. All the popular shows on the market had already been written about: *The Singer*, *The Voice*, *Masked Singer*, *Longing for Life*, *Peach Blossom Dock*... they were as numerous as stars in the sky.

The advantage of writing these is that there are ready-made structures and entry points. You don't have to copy them directly, but you can make slight modifications, ensuring a high baseline for quality. The downside is equally obvious: it’s cliché and suffers from aesthetic fatigue. Teacher Huang has almost become a mandatory character in entertainment novels.

He needed to write something different. It wasn't that Yu Wei had high artistic aspirations; his novel needed data, and the requirements were currently quite high. He had taken a shortcut to get those one hundred readers to follow; what would he do when he needed a thousand? If he wanted his novel to perform well, it needed a touch of novelty. His book wouldn't survive on a basic floor; he had to gamble for a higher ceiling.

As a veteran "failure" in the industry, his abilities were limited, but even if he was subpar, his attitude had to be right. If everyone just followed the trends, the readers would be the ones to suffer.

"What should I write..." Yu Wei rubbed his temples, recalling a legendary scene from a variety show.

"Give me a high note that destroys the whole world!"

*Voice of Dreams* was a talent show judged by celebrities. The show itself wasn't particularly popular, but it had no shortage of legendary moments. The "Wave Brother," the "Noodle Brother," and the "High Note Brother’s" rendition of *Three Days and Three Nights*... This was a music show, and compared to reality TV, the protagonist singing would feel more natural and less abrupt. Plus, the protagonist had a scoring system, making it easier to develop the plot if he served as a judge. As long as he wrote the "amateur masters'" talent performances in a funny way, the viewing experience for this segment should be decent. He wouldn't go bother Teacher Huang; he’d bother Teacher Han instead.

Ever since the plot arc where the protagonist sang ended, he hadn't had many readers left. The occasional few who remained were mostly chasing him just to berate him, centering their criticism on the lyrics of *Heart Wall* that he had quoted.

"I can tell the author has a case of 'pretentious literary disease,' thinking two lines of bad poetry could pass as lyrics."
"So cringey, a whole plate of dumplings just for this spoonful of vinegar."
"The author must think he’s so talented."
"'A wall in the heart, finding a window'—meaningless."

In truth, these lyrics were fine on their own, but the stereotype had already taken hold. In the eyes of the readers, he had become a self-important pseudo-intellectual who wrote a few flowery lines just to show off, then forced them into the story. In this situation, the quality of the lyrics no longer mattered; people were mostly attacking him as a person.

Of course, this wasn't the readers' fault. Because there was an information gap, if he were a reader, he would probably be unable to resist criticizing such an author too. You are here to write a novel, not to show off your literary talent; who are you acting superior for? The readers were right!

As a veteran failure, Yu Wei had at least that much self-awareness. The content and direction of the readers' insults might not always be correct, but the act of them criticizing him was perfectly fine. A novel is written for people to read; if they spend their time and money and don't like it, shouldn't they be allowed to complain? This was just like being a celebrity: if you take the audience's money, you must be prepared to accept the audience's judgment.

"After they hear the song, they will forgive me."

Yu Wei’s motivation for writing hadn't been dampened. He typed and practiced simultaneously, and the two days passed in a flash. Soon, the day of RUIKO1’s disbandment arrived. The farewell night was held as scheduled, and for the first time in a long while, the group trended on social media.

#RUIKO1 Happy Graduation!

It was the "last meal before the execution." Yu Wei clicked in and scrolled for a while, even seeing posts from his own fans, the lines filled with farewells and regrets. To have stuck with a slacker for four years—they were clearly true fans.

What the netizens discussed most was "Yuan-god." Qi Yuan’s fans seemed to hate the group; their posts were essentially all congratulations on his escape from a "sea of suffering." In truth, it’s the same in every circle: it’s easy to share hardships, but difficult to share prosperity. Qi Yuan had already climbed to the level of a second-tier artist, and his fans certainly didn't want him being used by other members of the group to chase clout.

In fact, when they first debuted, Zhang Lingye had been the most popular. He was the leader and the center, but later, Qi Yuan’s popularity surpassed his. In the eyes of Qi Yuan’s fans, the other members were all dragging their "brother" down. This, naturally, included Yu Wei. He was the "certain members," the "very few individuals," the "even worse," the "you know who I'm talking about," and the "that someone I don't even want to mention" that the group fans referred to.

To finally be rid of a slacker like Yu Wei, the fans of the other members were naturally clapping and cheering!