After the song ended, Fang Juexia softly said, “Happy birthday.” The other teammates chimed in, congratulating the friend who had requested the song.
Pei Tingsong set down his guitar, unscrewed the cap of his water bottle, and handed it to Fang Juexia. Fang Juexia accepted it naturally, took a tiny sip, then offered it back. Pei Tingsong blocked it with his wrist and urged him softly to take another sip.
Only then did Fang Juexia reluctantly take another sip before setting the bottle on the table.
The host continued reading messages from listeners: “A listener with the ID Peanut-Flavored Smoothie asks, ‘What’s your most vivid memory of summer, team?’”
Pei Tingsong took the water bottle, took a large sip himself, and screwed the cap back on.
Jiang Miao, who had been called upon, spoke into the microphone, “Thank you for the question.”
The most vivid memory of summer.
He thought for a moment, his gaze softening. “The most vivid memory is probably the image of eating watermelon with my little sister. We grew up at our uncle’s place, so it was different from other kids…”
He hesitated, then smiled again. “I remember when I was in seventh grade, coming home late after evening study sessions. The school was pretty far from where we lived, so I got home pretty late. Turns out my little sister hadn’t gone to sleep yet. She was holding a bowl, quietly climbing down from her bed, and sneaking into my room.”
“She’d saved it for me after dinner, skipping her own meal. But she was too young to know you had to refrigerate it in hot weather, so it was already a bit stale. Still, to make her happy, I ate it. We sat facing each other on the bed. She smiled at me and said she’d picked out all the seeds and buried them in a flowerpot. Then I bit into another seed, and she got really upset, saying watermelons were sneaky.”
Fang Juexia looked at Jiang Miao. He rarely showed emotion. Unlike his own reserved and introverted nature, Jiang Miao was always steady and self-possessed, always considering the bigger picture and protecting every member of the group—it was ingrained in his very bones.
But deep down, his youth must have been filled with hardship too.
As he spoke, Jiang Miao smiled and looked at the host. “I think that was the best watermelon I’ve ever eaten.”
Fang Juexia, usually taciturn, suddenly spoke up. “If Miao and I had met back in school, we would’ve become good friends.”
Jiang Miao smiled at him. “Absolutely. We would’ve been the closest classmates.”
He meant every word.
When the group first formed, Jiang Miao and he were among the earliest members confirmed for debut. Back then, they often ate together, and through their conversations, he learned much about Jiang Miao’s past. Had circumstances not forced him, he might never have debuted in an idol group at all.
Even then, Fang Juexia knew he’d done many things to support his sister—working odd jobs, streaming online, playing the guzheng for viewers in livestreams—all while enduring countless cold stares and harsh criticism. His upbringing forced him to mature faster than others, becoming someone capable of protecting others.
But he was still just a teenager back then.
He Ziyan patted Jiang Miao’s shoulder. “As Yao Mei’s rumored boyfriend, I need to clarify: this sister really has been a bit silly since childhood. In some ways, she’s just like her brother.”
Ling Yi smiled. “Yao Mei’s going through her rebellious phase now. Watch out, she might hit you.”
He Ziyan shot back, “What’s there to fear? I’m surrounded by rebellious phases. I even share a dorm with a rebellious kid.”
Pei Tingsong whacked him with the small plush toy in his hand. “How much appearance fee do you owe me?”
Everyone burst into laughter, chatting and joking as usual.
The host then turned to Lu Yuan sitting beside him, “Lu Yuan, do you have any memorable experiences related to summer?”
“Summer…” Lu Yuan glanced up at the ceiling. “A few summers ago, I won an award. I was still young back then, not quite mature. Everything that followed felt like a runaway horse—completely beyond my control.”
He smiled wryly. “When you think you’ve gained everything, you’ve simultaneously lost everything. You become utterly alone—a feeling incredibly hard to bear. I sank into despair for a long time. By some twist of fate, I ended up at Kaleido. Only then did I realize heaven is fair. What it takes away, it gives back tenfold—as long as you don’t give up.”
His words were candid. Lu Yuan didn’t use the topic to condemn the former brothers who had kicked him out of the dance troupe, nor did he dwell on past glories. He could now recall his youth with remarkable peace.
“Looking back now, I still cherish that summer of competition. So many people, striving together, chasing dreams together. Now that I’m a judge, watching the contestants compete feels like seeing myself all over again. That’s why I tell them: the outcome isn’t what matters. What matters is every single moment you’re immersed in it.”
Rarely did he crack jokes or force humor; instead, he reflected with genuine solemnity.
“So that summer taught me how easily people drift apart. Sometimes neither party did anything wrong, yet paths simply diverge. You must cherish every person still by your side.”
Fate is a colossal wave, and humans are even smaller than the foam on its crest. We can only be carried along, gathering into clusters or scattering apart.
These six individuals, each with their own distinct personalities, were the kind swept together by that current.
The host wholeheartedly agreed with his perspective, remarking, “This episode is so deeply moving.”
Ling Yi chuckled, “Why does today’s show feel so uncharacteristically un-Kaleido?”
Pei Tingsong replied, “Every time we accidentally slip into sentimental territory, we quickly pull back. That’s so Kaleido.”
“Hahaha.”
The host continued reading, “This listener with the ID ‘Grapes Are Still Far from Ripe’…”.
Ling Yi chuckled, “I could sing that listener’s ID.”
Fang Juexia glanced at Pei Tingsong beside her, “They’re definitely talking about you.”
Pei Tingsong shrugged. “I’m the King of Nicknames.”
The host chuckled too. “This listener asks: ‘Little Pei was only seventeen when he debuted with Kaleido. Having lived abroad before, what motivated him to join Kaleido?’”
Hearing this question, Fang Juexia felt a wave of anxiety wash over him. Pei Tingsong hadn’t joined the boy band voluntarily. Truth be told, Fang Juexia was the only one in the group who genuinely wanted to be an idol from the very beginning.
Pei Tingsong was an unexpected surprise.
“When I first joined, Kaleido was already formed,” “ Pei Tingsong spoke directly, without much thought. ”All the plans were made for a five-member group, with a complete lineup—lead dancer, lead vocalist, rapper, and visual. My joining was actually quite sudden back then and caused quite a bit of trouble for everyone. The choreography had to be rearranged, and the debut title track unexpectedly fell through, requiring a new song.”
This was the first time they’d heard Pei Tingsong apologize for his last-minute addition, and everyone was a bit taken aback.
“No, that’s not it,” Ling Yi interjected. “We were thrilled to hear a new member was joining. We just didn’t expect this new guy to be so tall…”
“Hahahaha.”
Bae Ting Song laughed too. “My initial intentions weren’t good. I had a lot of biases. Calling my state back then ‘reckless youth’ would be flattering. At that time, my definition of dreams was very narrow. I arrogantly rebelled against everything. After the person who loved me most left, I felt like a lonely bird trapped in a cage. I desperately wanted to fly out, but I couldn’t.” ”
“I got involved in the underground scene when I was just a teenager. You know how chaotic and crazy that environment is.” He shook his head slightly. “So later, my sister came looking for me. She gave me a good scolding.”
He Ziyan exclaimed in surprise, “Someone actually dared to scold you?”
Lu Yuan: “Hahahaha, what’s wrong? Can’t a guy get sentimental?”
Fang Juexia looked at Pei Tingsong, “What did she say?”
“She said that for someone like me, dreams aren’t a luxury anymore. It’s my own arrogance that’s trapped me. She told me to go see the real world.”
To try pursuing dreams like an ordinary person.
Jiang Miao’s tone softened: “Though it sounds harsh, she truly has your best interests at heart.”
The entertainment industry is an extreme microcosm of the world—a petri dish that magnifies both virtue and vice. Pei Tingsong was a cynical idealist, clutching his own brand of rebellious truth like a lifeline, only to plummet from the heavens into this turbulent, unpredictable little world.
“Maybe,” Pei Tingsong shrugged. “But she probably never imagined I’d get this lucky.”
What began as a trial to “see the human world” had instead cast him among this group of kind and courageous souls.
…cast him before Fang Juexia.
Fang Juexia turned his head and asked him, “Is the real world good?”
Pei Tingsong smiled and nodded. “Very good.”
Because only in the real world could he meet her. So no matter how hard it was, it was worth it.
The radio show aired live, and the production team would later release a special edition with video clips on their website. That very night, several members of Kaleido trended on social media: #JiangMiaoFamily, #LuYuanChampion, and #GuitarVersionNightWalk.
In the eyes of most netizens, Kaleido carried many preconceived labels—like “highly skilled,” “unlike typical boy bands,” and “group comedy act.” They were often described as beautiful, strong, and tragic, said to lack luck, yet rarely spoke openly about their past. Had this episode not been themed [Summer and Youth], they might never have publicly revisited their history.
This episode allowed more people to understand the members’ experiences and pasts—not just the stage personas, but the real Kaleido.
[@要做一个正直的人: Hearing these snippets and then listening to their songs again left me deeply moved. We all have a summer we can never return to. In youth, we think we are the world, but as we keep moving forward, we realize how vast the world is and how small we truly are.]
[@7788不是6: This group is so heartfelt. P.S. “Night Walk” is absolutely stunning—fjx’s vocals are incredible.]
[@今天下雨了吗: Before, when I thought of Kaleido, only fjx and PTS came to mind. After listening to the radio show, I suddenly fell for the group’s leader—so gentle.]
[@WaitingOnlineForABoyfriend: I used to watch Lu Yuan’s competitions, but after the event, so much happened and it fizzled out. Seeing him in Kaleido was such a surprise—some people are just destined for success.]
[@NoMoreRPS: Is my CP brain acting up again? Why does the vibe between PTS and FJX feel so… off during “Night Walk”? Is it the song’s filter? I’m not even shipping them!]
[@KKKKkkk replying to @No More RPS: Me too… (whispering) Don’t tear me apart, V-fan sister—your idol’s way better at that than you are)]
[@HidingSecrets: Their previous song “Breaking the Array” had this tragic, do-or-die vibe. But seeing these guys chatting and singing on the radio, gently comforting listeners while sharing their own stories—it felt like they were just friends next door. So much more relatable. I have to admit I discovered this group after hearing “Night Walk” first. Initially, I didn’t realize it was by boy band members, but after watching this episode, my perspective has changed. I hope they keep growing and releasing more great work.”
The viral success of “Night Walk” effectively boosted the entire “Last Summer” album, attracting many music lovers who aren’t usually into typical boy band styles. Originally, they created this summer mini-album with a niche music mindset, not aiming for chart-topping hits. They experimented with new arrangements and genres, giving it a somewhat experimental feel.
Yet this fresh approach earned widespread praise from music critics, shattering preconceived notions about boy bands.
[@V小鱼聊音乐: After listening to Kaleido’s “Last Summer,” the album features only four tracks yet feels incredibly rich. The lyrics are strong, and Bae Hee-sung has finally broken through his previous creative mold—transforming from a rebellious youth into a tender storyteller, which is a pleasant surprise.
The lead track’s arrangement is layered and rich, with a strong atmospheric vibe from the drum set. One particular sound—reminiscent of a yangqin—brings a refreshing clarity, while the piano foundation in the chorus evokes the feeling of summer rainy season. Seeing that He Ziyan handled the arrangement solo, I have to give him props—he’s made significant progress.
The Euro-pop electronic track “Daydream” perfectly matches its psychedelic arrangement with the lyrics’ dreamy, daytime fantasy vibe. The loop section is especially outstanding. Then there’s “Swimming Through This Sea,” which carries a hint of country music style—it’s rare for a boy band to experiment with this genre. The guitar work is solid, effectively conveying that summer heat. The entire song is highly visual: countryside, ocean, endless sunshine, shoulders shedding skin.
Finally, there’s “Night Walk,” which I’ve already praised. Fang Juexia’s compositional talent is something many can only envy—her sensitivity to melody and creativity are truly vibrant. Compared to the six-member version, I personally find the solo rendition more soulful. The arrangement is deeply melancholic, creating an immersive, almost intoxicating feeling. This is a trade-off between two excellent versions.
Overall, this is an album you can approach entirely free of preconceptions. It stands as Kaleido’s own high-caliber answer—a personal masterpiece following their exemplary group work on “Breakthrough.” I deeply admire their approach to original music and believe even better works lie ahead.
The album received numerous positive reviews from professional music critics, emerging as a summer dark horse. From a mainstream perspective, the most valuable asset for a boy band is having a breakout hit with nationwide appeal. With “Break the Array,” Kaleido now boasts two signature tracks. Their previous viral success has laid solid groundwork for sustained momentum, debunking claims of being a flash in the pan.
Moreover, for a creative boy band like Kaleido that lets their work speak for itself, as long as they keep releasing songs, they needn’t fear a decline in popularity.
Cheng Qiang walked into the dressing room, clapped his hands a few times, and announced, “After the new album meet-and-greet wraps up, we’re heading straight to the victory celebration banquet.”
“Yay!!”
“What are we eating? What are we eating?”
“Ling Yi, all you ever think about is food.”
“Let’s have barbecue, Brother Qiang.” He Ziyan leaned back in his chair, shooting Cheng Qiang a pleading look.
“Sure.” Cheng Qiang crossed his arms. “The others can eat, but you should cut back. You’re about to start filming and need to manage your weight.”
“Hahahaha!”
Pei Tingsong, already styled and made up, had been scrolling through Weibo on the couch for a while. Fang Juexia finished blow-drying his hair, cleared a spot, and sat beside Pei Tingsong. With just the two of them on the couch, Fang Juexia nudged Pei Tingsong’s foot with hers.
Glancing down briefly, Pei Tingsong lifted his eyes to meet Fang Juexia’s and complimented, “Your hairstyle looks great today.”
Not like I came here for your praise, Fang Juexia thought silently.
“You’re scrolling through Weibo?”
Pei Tingsong nodded, then leaned close to whisper in his ear, “They dug up that time you wore the Spring Snow Prison shirt.”
“What?!” Fang Juexia’s eyes widened. “How did they find that?”
“What do you think?” “ Pei Tingsong couldn’t hold back a laugh. ”CP fans hunt for shipping clues with microscopes. They’d lick sugar off a knife blade. Trying to outsmart them…”
Fang Juexia still couldn’t grasp how he’d been exposed. “But I wasn’t even wearing my name tag! That shirt looked almost identical to my white dress shirt—I even compared them side-by-side. How did they figure it out?”
“Here, see for yourself.” Pei Tingsong handed him his phone, displaying a Weibo post from an auditory girl.
[@DailyDoorCloserForAuditory: Sisters! The gorgeous beauty on the radio show is absolutely, positively wearing clothes gifted by @SpringSnowCP Station! Look at this screenshot I took—it’s a close-up during his performance. The embroidery on the front panel is clearly text! I edited it with Photoshop; see P2 for the clear characters—it says ‘Summer’! (Another day of failing to fulfill my ID duty) [Image][Image]”
Fang Juexia clicked on the image and zoomed in for a closer look.
Why wouldn’t anyone believe it? Fang Juexia wondered.
[@AverageHearingGirl: It really is a white shirt embroidered with “I said summer is so long”! Oh my god, I’ll love fjx forever, beautiful baby is so brave!]
[@TJSZD: This is legit mutual feelings… What did I ever do to deserve hearing-related sweetness?]
[@GrapevineScenery: So sweet, waaah! The radio highlights compilation from the neighbor’s summary is a full fifteen minutes long. Sisters, go check it out! When Wolf Cub played guitar, he glanced at Brother Juexia seventeen times. So many little gestures—totally smitten xql!]
Is it… that obvious?
“I’ve seen enough.”
Fang Juexia thought his personal agenda had been exposed so easily, but Pei Tingsong wouldn’t be caught like that.
Because he was too cunning.
Wait. Fang Juexia suddenly remembered something. “How did you know they found the clothes?”
Caught off guard by the interrogation, Pei Tingsong froze. “Well…”
As the last person finished getting ready, Cheng Qiang urged them to head to the venue. Pei Tingsong tried to make an excuse to slip away, but Fang Juexia, who stood up at the same time, grabbed his arm. “Talk.”
“I… I just follow some CP sites.”
“Followed?” Fang Juexia couldn’t believe his ears. “Are you out of your mind?”
“No,” Pei Tingsong quickly explained. “I followed them with my alt account.”
Fang Juexia looked even more incredulous. “You have a secondary account? Aren’t you afraid someone will expose you?”
“Why would I be afraid?” Pei Tingsong shrugged, grabbing Fang Juexia’s wrist as they walked through the dim corridor outside the makeup room. “My secondary account never insults anyone. Only my main account does that.”
That’s ridiculous.
Fang Juexia made an unreasonable demand with a blank expression, “Let me see your secondary account.”
“No way.” With that, Pei Tingsong called over Xiao Wen and handed his phone to his assistant, citing the imminent fan meet as the reason.
Cunning. Absolutely cunning.
This meet-and-greet venue differed slightly from previous ones. Xingtu had reserved a large café filled with lush greenery. A massive projection screen served as the stage centerpiece, creating a music salon ambiance. Though only a select few fans were invited, a multi-camera live stream ensured others could watch the entire event.
All six members wore simple summer outfits as they descended from the second floor, greeting fans who struggled to contain their screams while waving back.
Taking their official positions on six bar stools before the projection screen, Ling Yi spoke first upon receiving the mic: “We don’t have a host today, huh?”
He Ziyan quipped, “Maybe the company finally realized hiring a host for us is a huge waste of money.”
“Hahahahaha!”
Jiang Miao glanced at the members beside him. “Let’s greet the fans first. One, two, three…”
“Hello everyone! We are Kaleido!”
Fans several meters away joined them in making the K-sign gesture.
As the official spokesperson, Jiang Miao continued after the greeting, “First, we’d like to express our deepest gratitude for everyone’s support of ‘Last Summer.’ We’ve received so many wonderful reviews.”
A fan shouted, “You’ve been nominated for the BMAs!” “BMA stands for Best Music Awards, currently the most prestigious music awards ceremony in the Chinese-speaking world, featuring numerous award categories.
“Really?” Ling Yi asked out of the blue.
“Hahaha, what’s going on with you guys?”
Lu Yuan was also puzzled: “Seriously, we had no idea. Brother Qiang didn’t mention it.”
Cheng Qiang, standing nearby, shrugged his hands, indicating he was equally unaware.
“The list just came out!” The fan laughed, holding up their phone.
Only then did they nod in realization. Ling Yi suddenly turned and grabbed Fang Juexia’s hand. “Congratulations, congratulations.” He then turned to the other side and shook Lu Yuan’s hand. “Congratulations, congratulations.”
“Same to you, same to you.” The scene instantly turned into a strange tableau of six people congratulating each other.
“Alright, you’re acting like you actually won an award,” Pei Tingsong grumbled. “Don’t want the haters online mocking us for taking out loans to collect the prize.”
The fans burst into laughter. “Pei Tingsong, how are you so skilled at this!”
“So skilled it’s heartbreaking!”
“Hahahaha!”
After the commotion, Jiang Miao steered the conversation back. “So our first song today will still be the main track, ‘Last Summer’.” He turned to the band members behind him. “Guys, you can start.”
Music filled the air as the six of them sat on bar stools, singing the lead track in this summer-themed café. Immediately after, the screen played the iconic scene from Green Wave set to Night Out, captivating all six as they watched.
Fang Juexia watched the screen. The male and female leads, clad in school uniforms, stopped their bicycles and walked across the lawn, the rustling sound accompanying the music playing right beside him, evoking the atmosphere of youthful excitement. He couldn’t help but recall what Pei Tingsong had mentioned about the arrangement during the radio program.
This drum fill was indeed different from the six-member version. It wasn’t as complex, yet the rhythm felt somewhat unique.
Sensing something, Fang Juexia set down the microphone and leaned close to Pei Tingsong’s ear. “The tone of this drum beat is so unique.”
Pei Tingsong swiveled his chair, turned his face toward Fang Juexia, and smiled. “You noticed.”
Fang Juexia gazed into his eyes. “What kind of drum is it?”
On screen, two hands drew close, brushed against each other, then parted. Fingers itched to grasp one another, to hold hands beneath the moonlight.
“That afternoon I wrote the lyrics, you were asleep. His voice was soft and slow, each word fatefully synchronized with the drumbeat. Before all eyes, he confessed to the moonlight.
“I sampled your heartbeat.”
Author’s Note: Just to be clear, no original creative elements in this work are available for “borrowing,” nor will unauthorized commercial use be tolerated.
