Chapter 18.2: Theme Song Practice (6)
Under the watchful eyes of the viewers, Lin Jiashi, leaning against the wall, dazedly walked to the end of the corridor where Class A was.
When Lin Jiashi looked up and saw the sign in front of him, he clearly froze for a second. Then, his face showed a look of surprise, and he immediately turned and walked away.
After walking a few steps, Lin Jiashi showed a conflicted expression. Biting his lower lip, he stood still, furrowing his brow, then turned around and went back to the door of Class A.
When Lin Jiashi knocked on the door a few times and pushed it open, the live stream viewers gave their applause for his courage.
[I would call this: a true warrior!]
[Boss·Cold Gaze·Xiu: Is something wrong?]
[Lin Jiashi: Instant popsicle mode.]
“Sorry to disturb you…”
Lin Jiashi pushed the door open and entered, only to find that neither Shen Xiu nor Song Chengwang acknowledged him. He looked embarrassed.
[When Xia Wenhao came, Boss Xiu was clearly practicing “Riding the Wind,” but now they’re practicing “Looking into the Distance”?!]
[Wait, shouldn’t Boss Xiu be practicing “Wind and Waves”? That’s the content for this round’s theme song evaluation, guys! Get with the program!]
[Ah, you mean “Wind and Waves”? Boss Xiu practiced that in the morning. He spent the whole morning on it. It’s totally normal for him to practice something else in the afternoon. After all, top students are like that. While we’re still learning what the teacher teaches, they’ve already finished the entire book and are learning stuff from the higher grade classes!]
Shen Xiu wore headphones, immersed in the world of music and dance. He was completely unaware of his surroundings and didn’t see Lin Jiashi entering.
Since Shen Xiu had headphones on, Song Chengwang had turned on the speaker and continued practicing “Wind and Waves”.
Lin Jiashi stood at the door for a while, his gaze shifting back and forth between Shen Xiu and Song Chengwang. After hesitating for over a minute, he took a step and walked up to Song Chengwang.
Song Chengwang, seeing someone approach, was slightly surprised. He immediately went to turn off the speaker and looked at Lin Jiashi, still catching his breath from the intense practice. “What’s up?”
Lin Jiashi, feeling nervous, said, “Hello, Brother Song, I’m Lin Jiashi from Class F. Wind and Waves is really difficult, and many of my movements are not correct. Could you help me correct them?”
[Boss Xiu missed a cute student because he’s too cold!]
[Lin Jiashi, you made the right choice! Boss Xiu’s gaze and expression could freeze a person to death!]
Song Chengwang’s eyes instantly lit up. He excitedly placed his hands on Lin Jiashi’s shoulders. “Not bad, Lin Jiashi, right? You’ve got great taste!”
Finally, someone came to him for help—he was so touched!
From this point on, Class A would only have Shen Xiu left all alone, with no one coming to him. Shen Xiu wouldn’t say anything, but deep down, he must be really envious!
Song Chengwang said, “Wait here!”
Lin Jiashi was confused. “?”
Song Chengwang strode towards Shen Xiu. They were a bit far apart, and since Song Chengwang had his back to Lin Jiashi, he couldn’t tell if Song Chengwang had spoken. All he saw was that after Song Chengwang approached, Shen Xiu, who had his back to Lin Jiashi, turned his head. His eyes scanned him with a cold, piercing gaze—just for a second—before he turned back around.
Song Chengwang had come over just to show off the fact that someone came to him for help with practicing the movements, specifically Lin Jiashi.
In response, Shen Xiu only wanted to say: …What a strange sense of competition.
Seeing that Shen Xiu had only given him a cold glance, clearly uninterested, Song Chengwang turned around and walked back to Lin Jiashi.
His voice was gritted, “Let’s just ignore him!”
Then, awkwardly, he added, “By the way, did you remember the breakdown of Wind and Waves that Shen Xiu made?”
Shen Xiu might be a show-off, but at least he was good enough to back it up.
Lin Jiashi nodded.
Song Chengwang said, “Alright, you stand in front, and I’ll stand behind. We’ll dance together, and I’ll help you correct your movements.”
Lin Jiashi was stunned. When Xia Wenhao was teaching him and Ke Zi’an, they corrected one movement at a time. But here with Song Chengwang, they were just jumping straight into it?
[I have a bad feeling about this…]
[Sisters, I know what you’re thinking. Maybe this is the difference between Class A and Class F. I have to say, even though Xia Wenhao can be blunt, he’s really good to Ke Zi’an.]
Less than five minutes later, the viewers’ bad feelings turned out to be true.
“This is what you said you remembered? What did you even remember? Shen Xiu broke it down so clearly and simply, anyone could understand it, right?”
“Hurry up! Are you a snail? The tortoise from the tortoise and hare race moves faster than you!”
“Thank you for opening my eyes. I’ve never seen anyone dance and not even keep up with the accompaniment. Forget about rhythm and musicality; I’m starting to doubt if you even have them.”
“Good thing I only had you dance and didn’t ask you to sing. Otherwise, not only would I sacrifice my eyes, but my ears would be tortured too.”
Ten minutes later, Lin Jiashi’s eyes were red, and he didn’t even have the energy to say goodbye before running out of Class A.
The moment he left Class A, Lin Jiashi truly felt like his mind was in a daze.
So… this is the terrifying skill of Class A?! Song Chengwang was like this, but Shen Xiu, who even Song Chengwang and the rest of Class A thought was impressive, must be even more terrifying, right?
Just thinking about it, Lin Jiashi shuddered.
Fortunately, in that one second when he made eye contact with Shen Xiu’s cold, piercing gaze, he gave up and didn’t dare approach.
Even while he was in Class A, enduring Song Chengwang’s harsh words, Shen Xiu never once gave them a single glance. It seemed that Shen Xiu wasn’t just cold on the outside; he was utterly heartless at his core.
To get the attention of someone as cold as Shen Xiu…
It’s too difficult, so he chose to give up.
He was out of there—what’s Class A? Just a bunch of demons!
Staring at the closed door, Song Chengwang felt despair.
His only student had just run away. He ran!
Song Chengwang questioned his life: “Am I really that scary? It can’t be. I’m quite friendly and approachable.”
[Honestly, I saw this outcome coming.]
[Fire-breathing dragon, indeed.]
[Song Chengwang, do you have some misunderstanding of the words ‘friendly and approachable’?]
[By the way, does anyone wonder why Lin Jiashi came to Class A? Xia Wenhao’s teaching would be way more suited to the trainees in Class F.]
[Maybe… since he’s here, might as well take a look?]
[Well, that ‘look’ almost made him cry.]
…
At 6:30 PM, Shen Xiu finally finished his afternoon training.
Shen Xiu took off his headphones and turned around to see Song Chengwang staring at him with a deep gaze.
Shen Xiu: “?”
Though he was puzzled, to avoid a conversation, Shen Xiu calmly averted his gaze, pretending he hadn’t seen him.
Song Chengwang spoke up: “Shen Xiu, I’ve always had a question for you.”
Shen Xiu had no choice but to respond: “What?”
Song Chengwang: “Do you really have to work so hard? Can’t you take it easy for once?”
“An entire afternoon, from one o’clock until now, 6:30 PM, you’ve been dancing for a full five and a half hours without a break! Not just an hour! Are you a demon or something?”
While Song Chengwang was taking breaks in between, Shen Xiu had been going nonstop, and Song Chengwang felt like he was going to be killed by Shen Xiu’s sheer intensity.
Song Chengwang asked, “You’re a robot, right?”
That’s why you’re not getting tired.
Shen Xiu thought of what the system had said and responded to Song Chengwang’s question: “Yeah, not working hard will get me killed.”
Everyone here is stronger than him, so if he doesn’t give it his all, how can he ever reach the top and win? Is it just going to happen in his dreams?
If he fails, the system will actually “delete” him.
“Are you tired?”
Shen Xiu thought back to the summer and winter holidays when he worked part-time jobs, having to work from 8 AM to 10 PM with just two hours of rest in between.
Compared to that, singing and dancing in an air-conditioned room is the absolute best. How could he feel tired?
“Not really.”
Looking at Shen Xiu’s steady breathing, Song Chengwang knew that Shen Xiu wasn’t pretending to be relaxed—he really was relaxed. Especially when Shen Xiu casually said “not really” in such an indifferent tone, Song Chengwang felt despair.
“Unbelievable, you’re truly unbelievable!” This physical endurance was enough to crush dozens of him.
“You keep working hard, I’m done for today. I can’t keep up.”
[Did you see that, sisters?! Pay attention—this is a key point! The reason strong people are strong is because they keep pushing themselves, true masters don’t ever get tired!]
[If you want to become a better version of yourself, a little hard work doesn’t hurt, but… I’ve already gotten what I want, so I choose to lie flat!]
After lying on the yoga mat for a few seconds, Song Chengwang suddenly seemed to remember something and sat up like a spring-loaded fish: “Hey, are you wondering where Lin Jiashi, the one who asked me to help correct his posture, went?”
When it came to physical strength and effort, he couldn’t outcompete Shen Xiu, but someone actually came to him for guidance—at least he beat Shen Xiu in that!
“Shen Xiu, you must be curious, right? Right?”
Shen Xiu: “…” So this obsession with winning just never ends, huh?
“No, I’m not…”
Song Chengwang threatened, “You are curious!”
Without waiting for Shen Xiu to respond, Song Chengwang launched into a detailed recounting of the whole situation from beginning to end, basically forcing the story on him. When he finished, he huffed in indignation: “That’s what happened! Now tell me, doesn’t that just make you mad?”
Seeing Shen Xiu’s expressionless face only made Song Chengwang more annoyed. “Why aren’t you mad?”
“Hmph, do you think it doesn’t matter? That’s because you’ve never taught anyone before, so you don’t understand what it’s like. Once you try teaching, you’ll get it!”
“How can a student just ignore their teacher and run off like that!”
Shen Xiu: “…Thanks, but I really didn’t want to know.”
Everything was fine just a second ago—how did Song Chengwang suddenly start cursing him?
Song Chengwang: “Really? I don’t believe you. Hah, Shen Xiu, just keep pretending.”
Shen Xiu: “As long as you’re happy.”
Already exceeding his daily word quota, Shen Xiu felt parched and flustered. He tossed out a quick “Goodbye,” and walked briskly out of the practice room.
Watching Shen Xiu act like nothing ever bothered him, like he had everything under control, Song Chengwang frowned in dissatisfaction. “Tch, what a cold guy.”
He was really curious—what was it, deep in Shen Xiu’s heart, that he truly cared about? What could drive someone as cool-headed and composed as him—down to the very strands of his hair—to go mad with passion?
Was it winning a championship? Didn’t seem like it.
When the trainees talked about “center position,” “champion,” or “elimination,” Shen Xiu never showed the slightest longing in his expression. Not a flicker of emotion.
Maybe it was because, in Shen Xiu’s mind, the championship was already in the bag. Not even worth discussing.
Then what could it be… Wait a second! He noticed that the thing Shen Xiu did the most was practice—relentless, repeated practice!
Shen Xiu was already insanely good, and yet he still pushed himself, still kept grinding.
Even with a song like “Wind and Waves”, something Shen Xiu had clearly already mastered, he would still go through it from beginning to end—dissecting the sheet music, the lyrics, every single dance move—with obsessive precision.
What did that mean? It meant Shen Xiu truly loved the stage. He loved performing, loved dancing and singing. He genuinely loved being an idol.
Song Chengwang felt like he had just uncovered the truth. His eyes sparkled.
That had to be it!
And what about himself? Song Chengwang suddenly thought about why he had joined this boy group competition in the first place, and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Starting today, he would cast aside his past reasons—the ones he was too ashamed to admit—and genuinely fall in love with the stage. Just like Shen Xiu.
——
The next day.
Song Chengwang’s “curse” came true.
At 7:30 in the morning, Xiang Yueting brought Shen Xiu to a massive 10th-floor practice room, nervously gesturing toward the fifty-some trainees inside. “Shen Xiu, they all want to learn from you. They asked me to check if… you’d be willing to help them out?”
Sigh. There was no helping it. Shen Xiu’s icy aura came from deep in his bones—he carried himself like a walking blizzard. His presence radiated ten meters out, freezing the air around him. People saw him and immediately shrank back. Everyone wanted to ask him, but no one dared. So they begged him to do it instead.
Song Chengwang was shocked. “That many?!”
In an instant, his gaze toward Shen Xiu turned into raw, unfiltered envy.
He wasn’t jealous—really. It was just that… his heart felt just the tiniest bit bitter, that’s all!
Song Chengwang said, “Shen Xiu, I really envy you. Truly!”
As expected, everyone had sharp eyes. He knew it—Shen Xiu was so talented, how could no one want to be guided by him?
Shen Xiu looked at Song Chengwang with a quiet, unreadable gaze. He really wanted to say: Wanna switch places and take this “blessing” for yourself?
Meeting Shen Xiu’s icy stare, Song Chengwang felt a chill run down his spine. He immediately raised his hands in surrender.
“Okay, okay, I give up! I won’t get any ideas!”
All he’d been thinking was maybe—maybe—Shen Xiu could share a few of the trainees with him to teach. Was Shen Xiu a mind reader or something? His instincts were scary sharp.
Still, it just confirmed what he’d thought yesterday—Shen Xiu really loved the stage, and wouldn’t tolerate anyone messing around when he was teaching.
Faced with so many hopeful eyes staring up at him, Shen Xiu stood at the front of the room, his whole body stiff with discomfort, completely lacking any sense of security. But even so, he couldn’t bring himself to say no.
He stayed silent, and Xiang Yueting frantically shot exaggerated glances at the trainees: What are you waiting for? Say something!
The trainees had all worked up the nerve to ask Xiang Yueting for help—finally, Shen Xiu was here.
Now, Shen Xiu stood in front of them, lips pressed tightly together, his gaze icy and intense.
When that cold stare swept across them, it carried an invisible pressure that made their hearts race and their throats go dry.
Was Shen Xiu… mad?
The trainees were all on edge, nerves taut with unease.
Well, it made sense. Word was, Shen Xiu was insanely driven. Besides “Wind and Waves,” he’d practiced tons of other songs and dances. And now they were asking him to sacrifice his own time to teach them? On what grounds?
The trainees didn’t dare follow through on the plan they’d made earlier to all speak up at once and beg.
Onstage, Xiang Yueting’s eyelids were twitching from all the frantic winking, but no one said a word.
Trainees: It’s not that we don’t want to ask—it’s just that Shen Xiu’s expression is way too cold.
Then, at that moment, a cool, firm voice cut through the silence:
“Let’s begin.”
“…What?”
“Did I hear that right?”
“Shen Xiu agreed?!”
The trainees were stunned, but not wanting to miss this rare chance, they quickly spaced out and stood in formation.
Xiang Yueting let out a long sigh of relief. This task had been brutal—standing next to Shen Xiu felt like braving a blizzard of disapproval. Next time, he definitely wasn’t volunteering for anything like this again.
Shen Xiu turned his back to the group, facing a full-length mirror wall. Through the reflection, he could clearly see whether each trainee’s movements were in sync and up to standard.
“We won’t use music yet. Follow along.”
His tone was cold and calm, making the trainees instantly tense up and shout in response, “Got it!”
“Gray skies…”
A clean, piercing voice rang out, perfectly timed with fluid dance moves.
The trainees stood there, stunned.
They never expected that even at this early stage of practice, they’d be expected to dance and sing at the same time. That was something you only did after you’d already memorized everything! Who starts off like this?!
All they could say was—Shen Xiu was in a league of his own. The man was simply playing a different game.
Shen Xiu frowned, eyes meeting theirs in the mirror.
“…Why aren’t you moving?”
Hearing Shen Xiu’s low voice laced with a chill, then meeting his furrowed brow and displeased expression in the mirror, everyone couldn’t help but feel a wave of nervous tension. Whether they could keep up or not, whether they could breathe properly or were completely off-key—they all jumped into following along.
After the first run-through, Shen Xiu turned around. “Second time. I’ll correct your movements.”
His expression somehow looked colder than when he first entered the practice room. It had to be because their first attempt was so painfully bad!
This top-tier senior had sacrificed his time to help them—they couldn’t afford to let him down again!
From that moment on, every single trainee was 120% focused, practicing with all they had.
Shen Xiu circled the group, committed to his word. Since he had agreed to help, he’d take full responsibility—so he braced himself and watched them one by one, correcting each person’s form.
Every time a trainee accidentally made eye contact with Shen Xiu’s sharp, icy stare, they immediately stiffened, straightening their backs and staring dead ahead without daring to breathe too loudly.
They didn’t dare argue with him, and under his gaze, they didn’t even think about slacking off.
One by one, they all turned into obedient little schoolkids.
Unanimously, a thought echoed in everyone’s mind: Shen Xiu, cold as ice, is way scarier than the sharp-tongued Teacher Xue!
Song Chengwang: “…”
He admitted defeat. In front of this frosty demon king Shen Xiu, students didn’t just not run—they didn’t even dare breathe too loud, let alone speak.
Meanwhile, viewers watching the live broadcast of this massive theme song practice session looked at the trainees with eyes full of sympathy.
[Teacher Xue, paging Teacher Xue—did you forget to take Teacher Shen with you?!]
[So this is what it feels like to be crushed by a big shot…]
[Putting myself in their shoes—I’m suffocating. No wonder Shen Xiu’s called the walking “Shura Field.” The way his brows furrow and his face goes cold is terrifying.]
And yet… among the many trainees who kept their eyes forward, terrified of making eye contact with Shen Xiu, there was a traitor.
That traitor… was Xia Wenhao.
Yes, abiding by the philosophy of “go with the flow, bend when needed,” Xia Wenhao wasn’t about to let this rare opportunity to be trained by the legendary Shen Xiu pass him by. So, he slipped in among the other trainees.
Every move he made, he gave it his all. His eyes locked fiercely onto Shen Xiu. As a man who wanted to one day defeat Shen Xiu, he craved the man’s feedback—even if it was just a single disappointed comment.
But… not once.
Not even once did Shen Xiu look his way.
Xia Wenhao: “?”
Damn it! It must be because he still wasn’t perfect enough. That’s what Xia Wenhao told himself.
By the third, fourth repetition, Xia Wenhao was practically sweating buckets, pushing himself harder and harder.
Meanwhile, Shen Xiu had definitely noticed the burning stare. His whole body tensed.
He was confused. Alarmed. Nervous.
‘Why… why does Xia Wenhao keep staring at me?!’
‘No one else is staring like that! Xia Wenhao, please stop. You’re making me anxious. I almost corrected the wrong person just now!’
As Shen Xiu started to move around behind Xia Wenhao to escape his line of sight, the practice room’s overhead speaker suddenly crackled to life.
“Good afternoon, trainees!”
At the sound of the announcement, everyone snapped out of their intense focus.
Only then did they realize—Shen Xiu had spent the entire morning teaching them.
Their hearts filled with gratitude. Even though they’d been terrified of his icy gaze, they still endured it and looked toward him with sincere, thankful eyes.
Shen Xiu: “……”
‘Help. Are they all infected by Xia Wenhao now? Can I not even catch my breath in peace anymore?!’
Before Shen Xiu could sort out his thoughts, a huge LCD screen mounted on one of the practice room walls lit up, triggered remotely from the control room. At the same time, the corner speaker crackled again with a cheery voice:
“Next, please look at the big screen! Together with all the producers watching the livestream, let’s enjoy the solo juice commercial of Trainee No.66 and the winner of this week’s ‘Popularity King’—Shen Xiu!”
“Juice commercial?”
“When did Shen Xiu film that?”
“So the ‘Popularity King’ reward isn’t just picking a bed? This show really goes all out!”
“Am I the only one curious what Shen Xiu’s commercial looks like?”
Recalling the shoot, Shen Xiu tried to comfort himself: The director said it wouldn’t be aired. It probably—
The very next second, Shen Xiu saw the footage on the screen… and his pupils visibly shook.
