NABC Chapter 101 Training End
Chapter 101 Training End
In the office building of Zhonghua Industrial Park, Lin Zhou used an empty floor as the training room for Zhonghua Records. The large fan inside hummed, dissipating some of the heat of the day, but it couldn't dispel the tension and focus in the eyes of the seven young girls.
The training room had a gleaming solid wood floor, a full-length mirror on the wall with yellowed sheet music pasted along its edge, and several cassette recorders piled up in the corner, playing the most popular songs in Hong Kong at the moment on repeat.
Lin Zhou stood in front of the mirror, his gaze sweeping over a row of tall, straight girls—they were all top ten contestants in the Miss Hong Kong pageant, and also newcomers recently signed by Zhonghua Records. Their features were still somewhat immature, yet their spirit was undeniable. They wore matching white practice uniforms, and the stray hairs on their foreheads were damp with sweat, clinging tightly to their skin.
"I know some of you have sung in nightclubs before, and some of you are recent graduates from arts schools," Lin Zhou's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable certainty. He raised his hand and tapped the mixing console beside him, the metal surface making a crisp sound. "But at Zhonghua Records, past achievements don't count. From today onwards, you will learn not only singing, but also posture, typhoon awareness, music theory, and even how to answer reporters' questions."
The seven girls nodded in unison, their hearts tightening even more. They all knew that in the fiercely competitive world of Hong Kong's music scene, a single record could determine a person's fate—either instant fame or a quiet exit. Zhonghua Records, a new company founded by Lin Zhou, backed by the powerful Zhonghua Group and possessing resources unmatched by others, was already an incredible opportunity to sign them.
"I'll set a rule for you," Lin Zhou suddenly changed the subject, a faint smile playing on his lips as his gaze swept across the faces of the seven girls one by one, "whoever can complete all the singing and physical training courses first and pass the assessment will get a song written for them personally."
The training room fell silent for a moment after those words were spoken, and then the girls' eyes lit up with a burning passion.
Lin Zhou's talent for writing novels is no secret in Hong Kong. Several novels published by the Zhonghua Daily, while their accompanying songs are unknown, are essentially guaranteed to launch into mainstream success simply by promoting them as songs written by Lin Zhou himself, given his fame.
"Mr. Lin, are you telling the truth?" The girl standing on the far left couldn't help but ask. Her name was Chen Meiling. She was a nightclub singer with a clear voice and a very straightforward personality.
"When have I, Lin Zhou, ever gone back on my word?" Lin Zhou raised an eyebrow, his tone carrying an undeniable confidence. He paused, then added, "Not only that, I can also guarantee you—if this song doesn't become a hit, all of Zhonghua Records' resources will be prioritized for her. If my novels are ever adapted into movies or TV series, I can provide all the movie theme songs, TV series insert songs, and variety show appearances you can think of."
The last sentence was like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, stirring up ripples in the hearts of the seven girls.
In the entertainment industry, the phrase "resource allocation" carries more weight than any sweet talk. Looking at Lin Zhou's young yet composed face, they all knew this wasn't an empty promise—Zhonghua Group was currently enjoying great success in Hong Kong, its handheld game consoles were selling like hotcakes, and all the companies under Zhonghua were benefiting from the boom. If Lin Zhou said it, he would definitely deliver.
From that day on, the lights in the training room never went out before midnight again.
At five in the morning, just as dawn was breaking, the door to the training room was gently pushed open. Zhao Yazhi carried a thermos, her steps extremely light, careful not to wake her resting companions. She was the quietest and least conspicuous of the seven girls.
She placed the thermos on the corner table; inside was rock sugar pear soup her mother had made herself, meant to soothe her throat and clear her lungs. Then she walked to the mirror, took a deep breath, and began to stretch her legs. The cuffs of her leotard were rolled up to her knees, revealing her slender yet powerful calves. Her body was as flexible as a bamboo stalk; her backbends, splits, and kicks were all executed flawlessly. Beads of sweat slid down her face, dripping onto the floor and spreading into a small, dark stain.
At six o'clock, the other girls arrived one after another. Some rubbed their sleepy eyes, some still had bread in their mouths, but none of them dared to delay and quickly changed into their practice clothes to join the training. After the vocal teacher arrived, the training room was filled with the sound of singing practice—the tune of "mi ma mi ma," from low to high, and then from high to low, repeating over and over again, tedious yet grueling.
Zhao Yazhi's voice isn't the brightest, but it's the most melodious, carrying the gentle grace of a woman from Jiangnan, combined with the vivacity of a Hong Kong girl. Her vocal coach often stops to listen to her practice, nodding in praise: "Yazhi, your breath control is very steady, and your pronunciation is accurate. If you put a little more emotion into it, it will be even better."
Zhao Yazhi silently kept this in mind. Every day after vocal practice, she would hide in a corner with her cassette recorder, repeatedly listening to those widely popular songs and trying to understand the singers' emotions. She knew that she wasn't the most talented one; Chen Meiling had a powerful voice, and Li Yue had clear high notes. The only way she could win was by working harder than others.
In her posture class, the teacher corrected her, saying her shoulders were slightly hunched inwards and not relaxed enough. So every day she would stand in front of the mirror against the wall for an hour, her back, shoulders, hips, and calves pressed tightly against the wall, refusing to stop even when her back ached. Once, while practicing dance late into the night, she accidentally twisted her ankle. Tears welled up in her eyes from the pain, but she just gritted her teeth, rubbed her ankle, and showed up at the training room on time the next day.
Her teammates saw this and were all eager to prove themselves. They knew Zhao Yazhi was working hard behind the scenes, and they didn't want to fall behind. The atmosphere in the training room grew increasingly tense, yet it also carried a healthy competitive spirit—if you practiced an extra hour today, I'd practice two extra hours tomorrow; if you practiced this song ten times, I'd practice it twenty times.
As the days passed and the summer heat gradually faded, autumn quietly arrived in Hong Kong, bringing with it a touch of coolness.
The day of the assessment has finally arrived.
That day, the training room was filled with flowers, and a banner that read "Good luck with the assessment" hung on the wall. Lin Zhou sat in the center of the judges' panel, next to the vocal coach, the dance coach, and the producer from Zhonghua Records. The seven girls wore carefully prepared clothes and exquisite makeup, but they could not hide the nervousness in their eyes.
The assessment consists of two parts: singing ability and physical performance. Singing ability involves singing a song of your choice a cappella, while physical performance involves performing a designated dance.
Chen Meiling was the first to perform. She sang an energetic song with a powerful voice and skillful dancing, winning rounds of applause. Li Yue was the second to perform. Her high notes amazed the audience, but her dance moves were slightly stiff.
When it was Zhao Yazhi's turn, the training room suddenly fell silent.
She wore a white dress, her long hair flowing over her shoulders, and held a microphone in her hand. She stood in front of the mirror, her gaze calm yet resolute.
Music began, its soothing melody flowing through every corner of the training room. Zhao Yazhi closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and began to sing. Her voice was as gentle as a spring breeze, carrying just the right amount of sweetness, yet also a hint of melancholy, perfectly conveying the longing in the song.
On the judges' panel, Lin Zhou nodded slightly. He could tell that there was a story in Zhao Yazhi's voice.
After finishing her song, she put down the microphone and began the assigned dance. It was a fast-paced modern dance; her steps were light, her limbs graceful, every movement clean and crisp, her eyes radiating confidence. Spinning, leaping, raising her arms, twisting her waist—all were executed flawlessly, without the slightest pause.
When she finished her last movement, the training room was silent for a few seconds before bursting into enthusiastic applause.
The vocal coach and the dance coach exchanged a glance, both seeing approval in each other's eyes.
When the assessment results came out, everyone waited anxiously. Lin Zhou walked into the training room with a score sheet in hand, his gaze falling on Zhao Yazhi, a smile playing on his lips: "Congratulations, Zhao Yazhi, you are the first person to pass all the assessments."
At that moment, cheers and applause erupted in the training room. Zhao Yazhi was stunned for a moment, then her eyes reddened. She bit her lip hard to keep the tears from falling. Months of hard work had finally paid off.