My name is You Ran, and I participated in a talent show where gods fight. Good news: I have a face that can make the company's stock price rise by the limit overnight. Bad news: I can sing to send a million tuners away, and dance to make Newton flip open his coffin boards. A perfect good-for-nothing beauty, born cannon fodder. My manager patted my shoulder with tears in his eyes: "We don't want to make a debut, we just want to play a few more rounds to warm up the juniors of the company's upcoming boy band." I said, "I understand, burn yourself and shine a light on the juniors." So, while other trainees were trying their best to be cool on the stage - I handed the water to the boss of Class A and screwed the bottle cap, and successfully mentioned "Class A's exclusive pendant" in the hot search. When the instructor asked everyone to show off their individual skills - I took out my yarn and knitting needles and performed a "One-Minute Quick Love Glove" on the spot, which I gave to the dance instructor who was attacked by my singing. While other fans were voting for my brother - my fans were shouting wildly in the live broadcast room: "Stop singing! I'm one of you! Mom will vote for you, please show me how to knit a sweater!" Gradually, things started to go wrong. As a stage performer, I relied on my super empathy and my unique brain circuit to become the trainees' intimate brother, life mentor, and chief emotional mediator. That top rapper, who earned 2,580,000 yuan, secretly asked me how I pursued the sweet girl from the company next door. That otherworldly facade Vocal follows me every day just to have a bite of the midnight snack I made. Even the program PD, who initially hated me, began to chase me and ask: "You Ran, what do you think will be a hit in the next episode?
