The room didn't quiet immediately when Han Yurim walked in.
It shifted.
Spines straightened. Conversations lowered—not gone, just restrained, like everyone suddenly remembered they were being observed.
Lin Su stood near the mirrors, her fingers lightly brushing the bruise on her wrist. It had darkened overnight. She pressed it once, testing the ache, then let go.
Still there.
"Still pretending it doesn't hurt?"
She turned.
Su Yiran stood beside her.
Up close, Su Yiran always looked softer than she sounded—gentle eyes, steady voice. The kind of person who noticed everything without always choosing to comment on it.
Lin Su accepted the bottle of water she offered. "It's manageable."
"That's not the same as 'it doesn't hurt,'" Su Yiran said quietly.
But she didn't push further.
Across the room, Xu Yan sat cross-legged on the floor, dramatically fanning herself with her script.
"If they make us dance again today, I'm collapsing right here."
"You said that yesterday," Liu Wen replied, fixing her ponytail without looking up.
"And I meant it yesterday too!"
"You also cried yesterday."
"I did not cry!"
"You did. In the bathroom."
"That was stress tears. It doesn't count."
Liu Wen finally glanced at her, expression flat. "Crying is crying."
Nearby, Wen Jinhai laughed loudly and dropped to the floor like his legs had given out.
"I like this group already. Very honest suffering."
"You enjoy too much nonsense," Jian muttered, sitting beside him with a groan.
Wen Jinhai nudged him. "You say that, but you're still here."
"I'm here because I don't have anywhere better to be."
"That's the spirit."
Lin Su watched them without meaning to.
It was noisy.
Messy.
Unfiltered.
And strangely… grounding.
"Attention."
Han Yurim's voice cut cleanly through the room.
This time, silence came faster.
She wasn't alone.
Three people stood behind her—too formal for a training room. Tablets in hand. Files pressed neatly against their chests. Expressions composed like they already knew something the trainees didn't.
"From today, your training changes," Han Yurim said.
No buildup.
No explanation.
"You've been assigned assistants."
That broke the room instantly.
"Already?" Jian muttered.
"We just got here," Xu Yan added.
"Feels illegal," Wen Jinhai said.
"It means they're serious," Zhao Yiming replied from the front, calm as always.
He stood straighter than most. Composed. Controlled. Always aware of how he appeared.
Confidence wasn't new to him. He wore it deliberately.
Names were called.
One by one, assistants stepped forward.
Professional. Detached. Efficient.
Su Yiran greeted hers politely, already asking about schedules.
Zhao Yiming smiled at his like he had expected nothing less.
Xu Yan and Liu Wen argued for a full ten seconds about sharing an assistant before Tang Hui shut it down with a tired, "Please cooperate."
Wen Jinhai tried to joke with his assistant.
It didn't land.
Jian looked like he wanted to return his entire situation.
"Lin Su—Assistant: Zhao Min."
Lin Su stepped forward.
Zhao Min wasn't intimidating.
That was the first thing she noticed.
Young. Observant. The kind of person who watched before speaking.
"I'll handle your schedule," Zhao Min said. "If you're confused about anything, ask me."
Lin Su nodded. "Okay."
"Mei Lin—Assistant: Sun Yue."
Lin Su's gaze shifted slightly.
Mei Lin stepped forward.
Her posture hadn't changed since earlier, but now it was easier to see the details—controlled, deliberate, like someone who had already fought her way through something before arriving here.
She didn't look at Lin Su.
But she knew she was there.
"Next," Han Yurim continued, "you'll begin practical work."
That got everyone's attention.
"A web series," one staff member added. "Working title: Falling Silence."
"Sounds depressing already," Wen Jinhai muttered.
"Focus," Jian said, though he didn't sound much better.
"You'll be divided into groups."
Names followed.
"Group B—Lin Su, Mei Lin, Liu Wen, Jian."
A pause.
Not dramatic.
Just noticeable.
Xu Yan leaned toward Liu Wen. "Good luck."
Liu Wen nudged her back. "Pray for me instead."
They moved to a corner, pulling chairs into a loose circle.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then Jian broke it.
"Okay… this is awkward."
Liu Wen let out a small laugh. "At least you said it."
Mei Lin flipped open her script. "We don't have time to be awkward."
Jian pointed at her. "See? This is exactly what I mean."
Lin Su sat down quietly, opening her script.
"So," Liu Wen said, glancing between them, "who's leading?"
"I will," Mei Lin said immediately.
Jian raised a brow. "Confident."
"I don't like wasting time."
Liu Wen looked at Lin Su. "You okay with that?"
Lin Su met her gaze. "As long as it works."
That seemed to settle it.
"Alright then," Liu Wen said. "Let's not embarrass ourselves."
They began.
Mei Lin's voice changed first.
Stronger. Steadier.
Like she stepped into the character without effort.
Jian stumbled halfway through his line. "Wait—this doesn't sound right."
"Which part?" Liu Wen leaned in.
"This." He tapped the page. "It jumps too fast. Like something's missing."
Lin Su leaned closer.
"He's right," she said.
Three heads turned toward her.
"It doesn't connect," she added. "The emotion shifts too quickly."
Liu Wen frowned. "So… bad writing?"
"Or incomplete."
Mei Lin stared at the script longer this time.
Then exhaled.
"…Yeah. That doesn't feel finished."
Jian leaned back. "Finally. Someone agrees with me."
"Don't get used to it," Liu Wen replied.
A small smile touched Lin Su's lips.
Barely there.
But real.
Across the room, voices started rising.
Confusion. Frustration.
"Why is this different from yesterday's version?"
"That's not even my line!"
"Did they change the script?"
Han Yurim stepped forward, taking a script from one trainee.
Her expression didn't change much—but something in her gaze sharpened.
"This is not the final version," she said.
Silence.
"What do you mean?" Zhao Yiming asked.
"It means," a staff member replied carefully, "this script contains material from an earlier submission."
"Submission?" Jian echoed.
The man nodded. "From another company."
Liu Wen blinked. "Wait… are you saying this is copied?"
No one answered directly.
But no one denied it either.
Lin Su looked down at the pages in her hand.
They didn't feel the same anymore.
Beside her, Mei Lin spoke quietly.
"This is going to get messy."
Lin Su didn't look up.
For the first time since she stepped into this building—
the weight shifted.
Not just pressure.
Something heavier.
Not fear.
Not yet.
But close.
And this time—
she wasn't carrying it alone.