Entertainment Industry Limited Time Open - CHAPTER 3:
The sound of bass pulsed through the practice room, vibrating in the air.
Each beat landed perfectly in sync with the members’ sharp footsteps.
X-One was deep in rehearsal for their upcoming year-end tour.
Three months left until opening night, and the group had entered full-intensity training.
Every move, every breath was being refined toward perfection.
Stop. This part—practice it in pairs first.
Ren Yuheng’s long fingers pressed a button, cutting off the music.
Silence crashed into the room, broken only by heavy
breathing and the faint squeak of sneakers on wood.
Sweat clung to his forehead, a few strands of damp hair plastered to his temple.
A single bead trailed down his pale neck, but he only tugged his collar up to wipe it away,
his gaze already scanning the mirror for mistakes.
Zhiqing, I envy you. You don’t have to dance this one it’s brutal.
Jiang Linzhao collapsed against Qiao Zhiqing’s shoulder, boneless with exhaustion.
Get off, you’re all sweat. Qiao Zhiqing pushed him away with mock disgust. Go practice with Yiran.
The song carried a sultry tone, the kind that blurred the line between rhythm and temptation.
Qiao Zhiqing handled the vocal bridge, while the other four performed in pairs around him
a choreography built on tension and touch.
Jiang Linzhao nudged the motionless Shen Yiran,
groaning dramatically. This lineup is criminal.
Captain and Xiaoyue shouldn’t even be allowed in the same group.
Shen Yiran raised one limp hand in agreement,
then clasped both together in a mock prayer and turned
pleading eyes toward Tong Liyue. Our sweet little Yue,
have mercy, convince Captain to switch partners, please…
Tong Liyue lowered his water bottle, his bright eyes curving into a smile.
He glanced at Ren Yuheng first, then said lightly,
I don’t mind. Whatever Heng-ge says.
The mischief in those eyes made Ren Yuheng’s lips curve helplessly. Don’t tease.
Come on, Captain! Shen Yiran sat up instantly, hands together like a beggar.
Even Yue said he’s fine with it, so you should be too!
No changes. It’ll mess the formation.
The decision landed with quiet finality. Without another glance,
Ren Yuheng took Tong Liyue’s wrist and led him toward the corner to rehearse.
What!? Shen Yiran flopped back to the floor, staring up at the ceiling in defeat.
He honestly couldn’t see how switching partners would mess up anything.
Come to the front.
Ren Yuheng drew Tong Liyue to stand before the mirror.
They adjusted into position. When his hand settled at
Tong Liyue’s waist, his throat tightened without warning.
Too slender.
His waist fit neatly in one hand slim but not fragile,
a perfect balance of curve and strength.
Ren Yuheng frowned faintly, watching their reflection.
It felt like Tong Liyue had gotten thinner again.
Maybe it was the long rehearsals, the lack of rest.
He’d have to make sure he ate more.
The mirror framed their figures together Ren Yuheng standing tall behind him,
the height difference making it seem as if he completely surrounded Tong Liyue,
as though the younger man existed entirely within his shadow.
Tong Liyue caught their reflection and smiled.
I kind of want to see what it’s like standing in the back for once.
You don’t like it? Ren Yuheng arched a brow.
His tone softened, reassuring. Your presence would be wasted back there.
Tong Liyue’s lips curved upward. Fine. Then teach me properly, Captain.
He straightened, the sparkle returning to his eyes.
One was the team’s strongest all-rounder; the other,
their most dazzling performer. When they focused, their precision was merciless.
Every angle, every pause had to be flawless.
Heng-ge, am I doing this right?
Tong Liyue turned slightly, following the rhythm.
His fingers glided across his chest and abdomen,
movements fluid, precise yet the curve of his mouth,
the spark in his gaze, carried a natural sensuality that drew every eye in the room.
Ren Yuheng’s hand stilled. His gaze locked on the mirror,
an unexpected heat blooming in his chest. Something stirred, dangerously alive.
Again.
His tone stayed level, though his pulse had quickened.
Tong Liyue didn’t question him just moved again,
repeating the sequence with perfect control.
He never half-measured anything, even in rehearsal.
His stage face, his energy always 100%.
Ren Yuheng’s eyes traced every motion, catching a subtle imbalance.
He stepped closer. One arm circled Tong Liyue’s waist,
the other lifted his wrist to adjust the angle.
His voice was calm, instructional.
Keep your hand lower. It’ll flow better that way.
Tong Liyue was used to this hands-on teaching.
He adjusted obediently, and sure enough, the movement smoothed out beautifully.
Satisfied, he caught Ren Yuheng still holding on and raised a brow.
Big moves, Captain. Afraid I won’t understand verbal cues?
Ren Yuheng’s gaze flicked to the pale nape before him.
His voice dropped, rougher. Afraid you’ll ignore them again.
You really are overbearing. Tong Liyue laughed softly,
shaking his wrist. Let go. I’m soaked. Didn’t you say you’re a clean freak?
He tilted his chin toward the others. Go save them before they melt.
Jiang Linzhao came running just in time, gasping. Captain, help, please!
We’re dying out there!
Ren Yuheng hesitated, then slowly released Tong Liyue’s hand. I’ll be back soon.
Go ahead, I’ll keep practicing.
As the music resumed, he sank effortlessly back into rhythm, his reflection sharp with focus.
Ren Yuheng lingered for a moment longer, gaze fixed on that lithe, determined figure.
His fingers still burned faintly where they’d touched him.
A quiet smile ghosted across his lips before he finally turned away.
In the far corner, Qiao Zhiqing practiced alone, his style measured and composed.
Between movements, his eyes drifted toward Tong Liyue alone again,
moving in the mirror with effortless grace, hair damp, face glowing with concentration.
Zhiqing took a sip of water, then called out. Need a partner?
Tong Liyue turned, arching a brow with a smile. You remember our steps?
Roughly.
Qiao Zhiqing’s voice was calm as he stepped forward,
his hand slipping naturally to Tong Liyue’s waist. Let’s begin.
Across the room, Jiang Linzhao noticed the captain’s silence.
Heng-ge, you okay? You look distracted.
He followed Ren Yuheng’s gaze and his eyes widened.
Oh… Zhiqing’s dancing with Xiaoyue?
Shen Yiran chuckled, wiping his sweat. That’s a good thing, right?
Takes some pressure off Captain.
But Ren Yuheng didn’t answer.
His eyes stayed fixed on the pair across the room.
Tong Liyue’s hand rested lightly on Qiao Zhiqing’s arm as they moved.
Their rhythm was smooth, easy almost too natural.
They laughed between steps, sharing quiet smiles.
Zhiqing’s never this patient with anyone else, Jiang Linzhao murmured.
Ren Yuheng’s expression cooled instantly.
He crossed his arms, his jaw tightening, eyes darkening with a sharp, restless edge.
Moments later, he strode across the floor. His voice was calm,
but every word carried quiet command. Thanks. I’ll take it from here.
Tong Liyue thanked Zhiqing cheerfully, oblivious to the captain’s mood.
He turned back to the mirror, adjusting his form without a glance at Ren Yuheng.
That indifference made Ren Yuheng’s chest tighten.
Without warning, he stepped forward and caught Tong Liyue’s waist again
his grip firmer this time, palm hot through the thin fabric.
The younger man froze. Before he could speak, a low voice brushed against his ear.
Having fun dancing with Zhiqing?
Tong Liyue blinked, then laughed softly. Heng-ge, he was just helping. You were busy.
He’s worried about me? Ren Yuheng’s tone was cool,
his hand tightening subtly at the curve of that narrow waist.
He leaned closer, his words quiet but weighted. Tong Liyue. You’re mine.
Tong Liyue stared at their reflection, momentarily stunned. Was this about… dance partners?
He wasn’t sure why the captain was upset, but three years together
had taught him one thing when Ren Yuheng got possessive,
there was no use arguing.
His eyes softened. Alright, alright. I’m yours.
He dragged the words playfully, teasing.
Ren Yuheng’s mouth twitched, his tension easing just slightly.
Then Tong Liyue added, tone bright and daring. But shouldn’t you be mine too?
Ren Yuheng blinked, caught off guard. What?
Otherwise it’s unfair, Tong Liyue continued seriously,
pretending to think it through. You get to claim me, but I can’t claim you?
Silence fell. Then, a low chuckle. Fine. You win.
Tong Liyue grinned, squeezing his hand. Jealous little tyrant.
Mhm. Jealous.
Ren Yuheng’s voice lowered, roughened. His palm slid slowly down Tong Liyue’s back,
coming to rest once more at his waist a subtle press that carried something unspoken.
Don’t forget what you just said.
He knew he shouldn’t want more. Not from someone as guileless as Tong Liyue.
That night, the group shot a magazine feature.
Ren Yuheng watched from the sidelines as Tong Liyue leaned
against Shen Yiran between takes, laughing, shoulders brushing.
The photographer loved their energy, calling it natural, captivating.
Ren Yuheng said nothing. His posture was calm,
but his jaw clenched almost imperceptibly.
By the end of the shoot, his silence had grown so heavy even Tong Liyue noticed.
Heng-ge, you’re awfully quiet today.
Ren Yuheng looked up briefly, eyes cool, said nothing, and walked away.
Huh? Tong Liyue blinked.
What just happened?
Captain ignored Xiaoyue?! Jiang Linzhao gawked.
Did the sun rise in the west? Shen Yiran laughed incredulously. Did you two fight?
No.
Tong Liyue’s confusion was genuine.
Qiao Zhiqing passed by with his clothes in hand, utterly unbothered. Change quickly.
The others exchanged looks, shrugged, and drifted into the dressing room.
Inside, Tong Liyue unbuttoned his stage shirt, lost in thought.
He couldn’t figure out what he’d done wrong.
Then
A door clicked shut behind him. The lock slid into place.
He turned, startled. Ren Yuheng stood by the door, face unreadable.
Hey, I haven’t finished changing
Before he could finish, Ren Yuheng was already walking toward him.
Tong Liyue backed away instinctively until his shoulders hit the cold metal of the locker.
A hand rose long fingers tilted his chin upward, firm, unyielding.
The air between them thickened.
You were having a good time out there, huh?
Tong Liyue blinked, bewildered.
Ren Yuheng’s voice was low, rough at the edges. You forgot what you said earlier?
Tong Liyue paused, then it clicked. That joke.
He stared at him, still confused. So what if I did?
Ren Yuheng didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Because the truth
that he couldn’t stand seeing anyone else touch him,
that his chest burned at every laugh, every glance
was something he couldn’t say aloud.
Tong Liyue sighed softly and reached up, brushing his fingers along Ren Yuheng’s cheek.
His voice was gentle, teasing. You’re overworked, Captain. Jumpy, unlike you.
A faint smile tugged at Ren Yuheng’s lips, self-deprecating and sad. Maybe.
He had liked Tong Liyue for far too long. Liked him so much that his
calm discipline cracked under the weight of jealousy.
As he stood there lost in thought, a soft touch pulled him back.
Tong Liyue’s fingertip pressed against the corner of his mouth, lifting it into a faint smile.
If something’s bothering you, say it, he murmured. Otherwise, no one can help you.
Ren Yuheng’s heartbeat thundered in his ears.
He couldn’t look away from that warm, radiant smile.
Come on. They’re probably waiting.
Tong Liyue took his wrist to lead him out only for Ren Yuheng to tug gently on his collar.
You too. You’re careless.
Tong Liyue glanced down, realizing his shirt was still half-open, collarbones bare.
Ren Yuheng quietly buttoned it for him.
I can do it myself
Shh.
The room fell silent. Only the faint click of buttons filled the air.
Tong Liyue stared down, watching those long fingers fasten each one,
brushing lightly against his skin. The warmth of each touch made his breath catch.
When the last button closed, Ren Yuheng drew his hand back and spoke softly.
All done. Let’s go.
Tong Liyue nodded slowly, his heartbeat unsteady for reasons he couldn’t name.
It seemed the strange one tonight wasn’t just the captain.