90: Chapter 90 What a pity!

After the official announcement of "code: ae training camp," the internal atmosphere at SM, especially in the aespa pre-debut dorms and practice rooms, suddenly became more tense. The air was thick with a complex mix of immense pressure, faint anticipation, and a deeper underlying unease.

Among the four members, Karina, as the leader, felt the most pressure. She repeatedly studied the program's plan, trying to anticipate all possible challenges and "pitfalls." Her demands on herself and her teammates during training grew increasingly strict; she often practiced late into the night, with visible dark circles under her eyes.

NingNing and Giselle were also clearly working harder. NingNing practiced extra on her language skills and facial expression management, while Giselle worked desperately to make up for her dance foundation and build her physical stamina. Both were holding back a surge of energy, not wanting to show weakness in front of the cameras—and especially not in front of that "Instructor Kim."

The one who manifested anxiety most directly, however, was Kim Minjeong.

Her sources of pressure were multifaceted. In terms of skill, although she had made obvious progress, Kim Soo-yeon's relentless criticism in the practice room last time—especially the comments about her breath control while singing and dancing, and her nose (which triggered appearance-related anxiety)—stuck in her heart like two thorns. Thinking about having to expose all her weaknesses and undergo high-intensity challenges under the gaze of countless cameras and that "Devil Instructor" for the next few months gave her bouts of heart palpitations.

What unsettled her even more was Kim Soo-yeon herself. That strength and beauty so perfect they seemed unreal, that effortless composure... In the same frame as such a person, being "trained" by such a person—would they really not just become background characters, ruthlessly compared and mocked by the audience?

This anxiety reached its peak on the night before the official filming began. Kim Minjeong lay in her dorm bed, tossing and turning, her mind filled with terrible scenarios for tomorrow—messing up a dance, her voice cracking while singing, being harshly scolded by Instructor Kim, and being mocked by netizens after the broadcast with comments like "This is what wants to debut?"... The more she thought, the more afraid she became, and cold sweat soaked her pajamas.

She couldn't help herself; she secretly pulled out her phone and opened the small group chat with Jiang Zhiyu. At this time, Oppa shouldn't be asleep yet, right? She needed a little... even if it was just verbal comfort.

[Winter]: Oppa... are you asleep? [crying cat face.jpg]

After sending the message, she thought she would have to wait a while.

To her surprise, Jiang Zhiyu replied almost instantly.

[Jiang Zhiyu]: Not asleep yet, I'm checking tomorrow's filming schedule. What's wrong, is our puppy Minjeong suffering from insomnia?

Seeing the familiar nickname and tone, Kim Minjeong's nose felt a bit sore, and her fingers flew across the screen as she typed.

[Winter]: Oppa, I'm really so scared... It starts tomorrow... Chairwoman Kim... and so many cameras...

[Winter]: I'm afraid I won't do well... I'm afraid of dragging the team down... I'm afraid our debut group's skills are too poor. What if we get cursed at when the show airs... People will say 'This is SM's level?' or 'They don't deserve to debut at all'... Wuwu...

She poured out all her worries in one go.

On the other side of the phone, Jiang Zhiyu looked at the text popping up on the screen and could almost imagine the girl's current pitiful appearance—scrunched-up face and red eyes. He sighed; he knew about these pressures, of course. This project was, in a way, built upon "applying pressure" and "exposure."

He thought for a moment and didn't immediately use empty comforts like "don't be afraid" or "fighting." Instead, he switched to a more rational, even slightly teasing tone.

[Jiang Zhiyu]: Hey, Kim Minjeong.

[Jiang Zhiyu]: You have insomnia, but I don't! (referring to her disturbing his dreams with late-night messages, but it was actually a joke)]

[Jiang Zhiyu]: First, to answer your first question—it's normal to be afraid; it would be strange if you weren't. That's Kim Soo-yeon we're talking about; even I'm a bit intimidated by her.

This was half-true, but it did indeed slightly alleviate Kim Minjeong's sense of isolation—look, even Oppa thinks Chairwoman Kim is scary!

[Jiang Zhiyu]: But, Minjeong-ah, think about it from another angle.

[Jiang Zhiyu]: Soo-yeon is willing to spend time using her methods to train your abilities and force you to improve. Isn't that, in itself, a massive blessing?

[Jiang Zhiyu]: It's an opportunity many would beg for. With so many trainees at SM, why did they choose aespa? It's because you have potential and are worth being 'tortured' like this.

He tried to transform "pressure" into "opportunity" and "recognition."

[Jiang Zhiyu]: As for what you said about being cursed at for poor skills...

[Jiang Zhiyu]: Come, let's analyze this rationally. If you compare yourself to a freak like Soo-yeon, of course you'll feel inferior. That's perfectly normal! Sometimes when I look at her, I don't think she's human either.

He unceremoniously used the word "freak" to describe Kim Soo-yeon's abilities, which actually made Kim Minjeong break into a small smile through her tears.

[Jiang Zhiyu]: But! Here's the key point!]

[Jiang Zhiyu]: Does aespa need to compare itself to Kim Soo-yeon? No! She's the TG President, a solo monster, an existence from another dimension.]

[Jiang Zhiyu]: Who you need to compare yourselves to are other idol groups in the same industry at this stage—those preparing to debut or who have already debuted!]

[Jiang Zhiyu]: Compared to them, are you lacking? Honestly, I don't think you're lacking at all. In fact, in many ways, your concepts, foundations, and the resources SM has used to polish you are already far ahead.

He provided a more realistic framework for comparison.

[Jiang Zhiyu]: When the show airs, will the audience curse? Some definitely will; that's just how the internet is. But more people will want to see how you grow, how you overcome difficulties, and how you transform from 'trainees with potential' into 'the real aespa.']

[Jiang Zhiyu]: What you need to do is not fear exposing your flaws, but rather show the courage on camera to say 'even if I have flaws, I'm working desperately to fix them,' and demonstrate the team spirit of 'supporting each other and moving forward together as a team.']

[Jiang Zhiyu]: That's what the show wants to film, and it's what the audience wants to see. Skills can be practiced, but that drive and cohesion can sometimes be more moving than pure skill alone.

Jiang Zhiyu sent a long string of messages, containing understanding, guidance, and practical advice.

On her end, Kim Minjeong read every word, and her rapid breathing gradually calmed down. What Oppa said... seemed to make sense. Comparing herself to Chairwoman Kim was just looking for trouble. Compared to other pre-debut groups... they really weren't that bad? At least the teachers at SM hadn't given up on them.

Most importantly, Oppa mentioned the "process of effort" and the "team." Yes, they were a team. There was Karina Unnie carrying the pressure, NingNing working hard to liven the atmosphere, Giselle Unnie silently persevering, and... herself.

She wasn't facing all of this alone.

[Winter]: ...Oppa, I think... I'm not that scared anymore.

[Winter]: But I'm still nervous...

[Jiang Zhiyu]: It's right to be nervous. It would be weird if you weren't. Just turn that nervousness into focus for the cameras tomorrow.

[Jiang Zhiyu]: Remember, you are a team. Look out for each other; if someone can't hold on, give them a pull. No matter how powerful Instructor Kim is, she's only one person. You are four.

[Jiang Zhiyu]: Alright, go to sleep! If you show up on screen tomorrow with dark circles, the first one to scold you will be your company's stylist! [Goodnight.jpg]

Looking at the final goofy goodnight emoji, Kim Minjeong finally couldn't help but let out a soft laugh. The heavy stone in her heart seemed to have been partially moved aside.

She put down her phone, closed her eyes, and silently cheered herself on.

That's right, they were aespa. Together, they would overcome this hurdle named "Kim Soo-yeon" and this "final test before debut."

From the next room, the faint sound of Karina still softly practicing her positioning could be heard, and NingNing seemed to be whispering something as if memorizing it. Giselle's side was quiet, but Kim Minjeong knew she definitely wasn't asleep either.

They were all nervous, all afraid.

But they were also all here.

In the darkness, Kim Minjeong clenched her fists.

Tomorrow, fighting.

The first episode of "code: ae training camp" was recorded at a large multi-functional studio at tvN. The studio had been decorated to look like a "training base" combining futuristic and industrial styles—cold metal frames, a massive circular screen, and cameras everywhere created a serious and oppressive atmosphere.

The four members of aespa—Karina, Kim Minjeong, NingNing, and Uchinaga Eri—were dressed in uniform grey training outfits, standing in a line in the center of the space. They tried their best to keep their backs straight, but their slightly trembling fingers and habitually pursed lips betrayed their inner tension. Countless lenses were pointed at them from every angle, recording their most minute facial expressions.

Just then, the heavy metal door at the entrance slid open silently.

Several figures walked in.

Walking at the very front was, naturally, Kim Soo-yeon. She wasn't wearing a formal suit today, but a sharp-cut black athletic set. Her long hair was tied high in a ponytail, and her face was bare of makeup, yet her features appeared even more strikingly clear. Her expression was calm, and her eyes scanned the area and the four standing aespa members like a scanner. That unquestionable sense of authority belonging to an "instructor" instantly enveloped the entire studio.

Following closely behind her was a... very uniquely styled presence.

Lee Tima. She wasn't wearing a training uniform or formal wear; instead, she was in a loose hoodie printed with a giant carrot. Most eye-catching was what was on her head—a fluffy pink rabbit headgear with a defiant expression! Only the lower half of her face and those darting eyes, filled with the light of "someone who loves watching a scene," were visible. She hopped along behind Kim Soo-yeon with her hands on her hips. Despite being the shortest, she insisted on putting on the smug air of a "supervisor," creating an absurd yet cute contrast with the serious atmosphere of the training base.

And finally, Jiang Zhiyu entered. He was still in a well-pressed casual suit, wearing his usual gentle smile and walking with a composed pace. He didn't release an aura like Kim Soo-yeon, nor did he act goofy to steal the spotlight like Lee Tima. He simply walked quietly to the designated observation seats on the side. His gentle gaze fell upon the four aespa members; when their eyes met, he would give a slight nod, his eyes conveying clear encouragement and the silent support of "don't be afraid, I'm here."

The TG Entertainment trio had arrived with such a distinct, layered lineup.

The Boss (Instructor) — Kim Soo-yeon.

The Troublemaker/Atmosphere Maker (Assistant? Mascot?) — Lee Tima (Rabbit Version).

The Stabilizer/Behind-the-scenes Big Shot (Observer) — Jiang Zhiyu.

Looking at this peculiar combination, the four aespa members' feelings became even more complicated. Kim Soo-yeon's pressure was very real, Lee Tima's "arrogant" rabbit look was both hilarious and inexplicably nerve-wracking (who knew what this "black hole" would do), and Jiang Zhiyu's gentle gaze became the only driftwood they could cling to at this moment.

"Good morning, everyone." Kim Soo-yeon stopped in front of aespa and spoke. Her voice came through the microphone clearly; there were no pleasantries, as she cut straight to the chase. "I am Kim Soo-yeon. In the upcoming 'code: ae training camp,' I will serve as your specially appointed instructor. I don't care who you were before, where you came from, or what expectations you have. Here, you have only one identity—'pre-debut members' who need to be tested and polished."

Her tone was flat, yet it carried immense weight.

"My training will not be easy, nor will it cater to your so-called 'self-esteem' or 'idol image.'" Kim Soo-yeon's gaze slowly swept across each of their faces. "I will hold you to my own standards. These standards may be much higher and more brutal than you imagine. There is only one goal—to force out all your potential in the shortest amount of time, or to expose all your inadequacies."

Karina took a deep breath and nodded firmly. Kim Minjeong instinctively clenched her fists. NingNing's eyes were determined. Giselle's expression became even more serene.

"This one," Kim Soo-yeon turned slightly and pointed to the rabbit-headed Lee Tima, who was still smugly standing with her hands on her hips, "is Lee Tima, my... special assistant. She will be responsible for recording your training data, livening up the atmosphere (if needed), and..." Kim Soo-yeon paused, seemingly choosing her words, "executing some additional 'motivational' tasks."

Lee Tima very cooperatively hopped forward a step, her rabbit ears wobbling. In a muffled (due to the headgear) but extremely arrogant voice, she added: "That's right! It's me! The Great Tima! You better perform well! Or else... hmph hmph!" She intentionally didn't finish, leaving infinite room for terrifying imagination.

The four aespa members: "..." Why does it feel like we're even more nervous now?

Finally, Kim Soo-yeon's gaze turned toward Jiang Zhiyu in the observation area. "President Jiang, as the representative of TG Entertainment and the program observer, will be present throughout. I will also take his opinions into consideration."

[part:gemini-3.1-flash-lite]

Jiang Zhiyu nodded at Kim Soo-yeon, then looked back at aespa, smiling as he mouthed two words: "Fighting."

After a simple opening, without any delay, Kim Soo-yeon directly announced the first challenge: "Vocal foundation stress test."

She pointed to the professional recording booth and monitoring equipment already prepared on one side of the venue, "It is not singing, but a simple test of long-tone stability, pitch control, and breath endurance. The equipment will monitor and display your various data in real time. Assistant Lee will record it."

She glanced at the four members of aespa: "Starting with Karina, one by one. The others will observe, but please note, this is not a performance, but a process of exposing problems. I do not need you to sound 'good'; I want to see the 'foundation' and 'limit' of your voices."

Cold, professional, and merciless.

Karina was the first to walk toward the recording booth, her palms full of sweat. She knew that the real "torture" had only just begun. And the cameras were recording everything they experienced under the cold scrutiny of Kim Soo-yeon, the "boss," under the strange gaze of Lee Tima, that "arrogant rabbit," and under the gentle yet distant encouraging gaze of Jiang Zhiyu.

All of TG Entertainment had arrived; the battle named "training" had officially fired its first shot. And the future of aespa would be written brutally and realistically under these lenses filled with pressure and the unknown.

Karina took a deep breath and walked into the transparent recording booth. The door closed gently behind her, isolating her from the outside gaze and pressure, yet through the transparent glass, every subtle expression and movement of hers was exposed. The professional microphone, headphones, and the real-time pitch curves and breath waveforms displayed on the screen in front of her all filled this small space with a cold sense of technology and scrutiny.

Kim Soo-yeon stood in front of the console, looking at her through the glass with a calm gaze. Lee Tima, wearing a rabbit headgear, leaned in front of another monitor, her fuzzy ears swaying; her expression was unclear, but the posture of "watching the show seriously" was obvious. Jiang Zhiyu sat in the observation seat, his body leaning slightly forward, his gaze focused.

"Karina, start when you are ready. Begin with the mid-range C4, a steady long tone, hold for five seconds, then gradually rise according to the prompted scale, holding each note steadily for five seconds until you reach your limit. Note, what I want is stability, not volume." Kim Soo-yeon's voice came through the headphones, clear and without any emotional fluctuation.

Karina nodded, closed her eyes, and adjusted her breathing. As the leader, she knew she had to get off to a good start. She concentrated and, following the instructions, steadily emitted the first long tone.

On the console screen, the pitch curve was stable, and the breath waveform was uniform. Kim Soo-yeon watched expressionlessly.

The scale gradually rose. From C4 to G4, Karina completed it well; her voice was stable, her pitch was precise, demonstrating a solid foundation. Her expression also gradually relaxed a little.

However, when the scale broke through A4 and moved toward B4 and High C (C5), problems began to emerge.

First was the visibly tight tension in her throat muscles; to maintain the high notes, her neck leaned forward unconsciously, and her jawline tightened. The breath waveform on the screen began to show subtle, irregular jitters, indicating that her core support was beginning to destabilize.

When she reached C5 and tried to hold it, the problem was even more obvious. Although her voice maintained the pitch, it lost the roundness and thickness of the mid-to-low range, becoming somewhat thin and sharp. More fatally, the pitch showed an extremely subtle "drift" that was enough to be captured by professional equipment—not singing off-key, but the pitch wavering unstably within an extremely narrow range, commonly known as "singing crooked." Although it might not be noticeable if you don't listen carefully, for a singer pursuing perfection, this is a typical manifestation of insufficient control.

Moreover, Kim Soo-yeon noticed that after ending the C5 long tone, Karina's breath recovery was significantly more difficult than before, and her cheeks flushed with an unnatural redness, indicating that her "reserve" of breath had been exhausted.

Kim Soo-yeon's brows furrowed imperceptibly. Jiang Zhiyu sat in the back, his originally gentle gaze slightly fixed, and the movement of his fingers tapping on his knees stopped.

In the recording booth, Karina finished the last specified scale, took off her headphones, and let out a long sigh; fine beads of sweat had already seeped onto her forehead. She looked outside through the glass, her gaze first toward Kim Soo-yeon, then subconsciously searching for Jiang Zhiyu.

Kim Soo-yeon pressed the talk button: "You can come out, Karina."

Karina walked out of the booth, her steps slightly unsteady. She pursed her lips, walked to the front of the line, and stood still, her gaze shifting uneasily between Kim Soo-yeon and Jiang Zhiyu. She actually felt it herself; the high notes at the end were very strenuous to maintain, and her state was not good.

Kim Soo-yeon did not comment immediately but signaled for the next person, Kim Minjeong (Winter), to prepare to enter the booth.

Just as Karina was feeling nervous in her heart, reflecting on her performance just now, a gentle voice sounded from the direction of the observation seats.

"Ji-min."

It was Jiang Zhiyu.

He didn't know when he had left his seat and walked to the edge of the venue, closer to the four members of aespa. There was still a smile on his face, but that smile had less of the usual ease and more of a guided concern.

Karina turned to him immediately, as if grabbing a lifeline: "Oppa..."

Jiang Zhiyu looked at her and asked in a calm tone: "Just finished singing, how do you... feel?"

He did not evaluate directly but threw the question back to Karina herself. This was his consistent style; guiding the other party to self-reflect was often more effective than pointing out problems directly, especially in front of the camera, and it could also protect some of the trainees' self-esteem.

Karina was stunned for a moment, then lowered her head, her fingers twisting together uneasily. She bit her lip, her voice a bit low but clear enough: "I... don't feel very good. In the middle... when reaching the high notes, my throat was very tight, and my breath couldn't quite keep up... That C5 at the end, I felt the note... wasn't stable." She finally told her feelings honestly, although her voice grew quieter and quieter.

Jiang Zhiyu nodded, did not immediately say "right" or "wrong," but continued to guide: "Why did you feel your breath couldn't keep up? Is it a method problem, or nervousness?"

Karina thought for a moment: "Maybe... both. A little nervous, and then once nervous, the position of my breathing seemed to get messed up, all stuck here in my chest and throat..." She pointed to her own neck.

"Hmm, very accurate self-awareness." Jiang Zhiyu gave his affirmation, "Nervousness will affect your state, which is normal. But technical problems are the root cause. Your stability in the mid-to-low range just now was very good, indicating your foundation is not bad. The problem lies in the high notes above the passaggio; your core support didn't keep up, causing all the force to be pressed onto your vocal cords and throat, so the voice becomes thin and tight, and the pitch also loses control due to the excessive tension of the throat muscles."

His analysis was professional and clear, pointing out the problem without denying Karina's foundation.

"Instructor Kim will definitely conduct training targeting this aspect next." Jiang Zhiyu looked at Kim Soo-yeon, who had returned to the console and was looking at Kim Minjeong's test data, then turned back to Karina and the other three who were also pricking up their ears to listen, saying, "What you need to do is, in every practice and test, like Karina did just now, strive to perceive the state of your body and voice, and find the root of the problem. Then, trust the instructor's method and overcome it."

He paused, his voice softening a bit more, with encouragement: "This is only the first test; discovering problems is better than not discovering them. Karina, as the leader, you took the lead in exposing problems, which itself requires courage. Next, take this awareness and solve the problems. You are a team; you can observe each other and remind each other about breathing and force application methods."

Listening to Jiang Zhiyu's words, the panic and self-reproach in Karina's heart were gradually replaced by a clearer understanding and determination. Yes, only by discovering problems can they be solved. Oppa was right; she was the leader, and she had to take the lead in breaking through the barriers.

She nodded vigorously, her eyes becoming firm again: "I understand, Oppa. Thank you."

At this moment, Kim Soo-yeon finished Kim Minjeong's test (the process also exposed breath support problems, but the form of manifestation was slightly different). She turned around, her gaze sweeping over the four members of aespa, and finally landing on Karina.

"Karina," Kim Soo-yeon began, her tone still flat, "Your self-analysis was not bad. President Jiang has already explained the problem very clearly. Next, I will design specialized 'destructive' training targeting each of your high-range support and breath control. The process will not be comfortable, but the goal is to rebuild your correct vocal habits and muscle memory."

She glanced at Lee Tima, who was wearing a rabbit headgear and recording data quickly on a tablet: "Assistant Lee, is the data recorded?"

"It's recorded! Karina Unnie's high-range stability score is B-, breath endurance score is C+! Winter Unnie..." Lee Tima reported with her unique, slightly goofy tone, her rabbit ears swaying back and forth.

The cruel data was reported in such a nearly childish way, which actually diluted some of the tension, but it also clearly pointed out the gaps.

The first lesson for aespa began in an atmosphere of pressure, exposure, reflection, and a slightly quirky vibe. And Karina knew that this was just the beginning. The real "destruction" and "rebuilding" were still to come.

The recording booth tests continued.

After Kim Minjeong, it was NingNing's turn.

Compared to the previous two Korean members, NingNing, as a foreign member, had a slightly different source of pressure in vocals. She possessed gifted vocal conditions—a wide vocal range, a clear and recognizable timbre, especially in the mid-to-high range, with a natural penetrative power and metallic luster, which was a potential stock for a future main vocalist that even SM vocal teachers had praised.

However, when she walked into the booth and began the same long-tone stability test, Kim Soo-yeon at the console and Jiang Zhiyu in the observation seat noticed the problem almost simultaneously.

NingNing's mid-to-low range was completed quite steadily, even more relaxed than Karina and Kim Minjeong, and her pitch was impeccable. This was due to her good musical sense and relatively relaxed mindset (at least in the initial stage of the test).

However, as the scale gradually climbed, entering the higher range where she should have been most advantageous, a subtle "sense of contraction" appeared.

Her voice was still stable on pitch, without the "drift" like Karina's or the "faintness" like Kim Minjeong's, but her timbre had obviously "narrowed." The sound quality that should have been open, bright, and full of spatial sense was subconsciously "withdrawn" by her, becoming somewhat "stuffy" and "cautious," as if she were afraid that if she let her voice out too much, it would lose control, or... it would appear too "abrupt"?

At the same time, her body language also confirmed this. She did not overly tense her throat like Karina, but her shoulders and chest were slightly hunched inward, and the depth of her breathing also seemed to be compromised; it was a "conservative" way of applying force.

The data on the screen also illustrated the problem: the pitch curve was perfect, and the breath stability was even better than Karina's and Kim Minjeong's, but the indicators of "vocal dynamic range" and "harmonic richness" did not rise as expected after entering the high range; instead, they had a slight decline.

Jiang Zhiyu looked at the data, then at the expression of NingNing in the booth, who was serious but faintly revealed a "holding back" demeanor, his brows slightly furrowed. He knew this state too well—it was not a lack of technique, or even nervousness, but a deeper, perhaps even subconscious "psychological limitation" or "expression habit" that the person herself had not fully realized. Perhaps it was the subtle restraint brought by cultural background differences, perhaps it was the subconscious self-protection of a foreign member avoiding being "too flamboyant," or perhaps it was just that she hadn't fully developed the full power of her voice yet.

NingNing finished the test and walked out of the booth. Her expression looked more relaxed than Karina's and Kim Minjeong's; after all, her "stability" score on the data was very high. She returned to the group and even smiled reassuringly at Karina and Kim Minjeong, who were looking at her nervously.

However, Kim Soo-yeon did not immediately let her "pass."