Chapter 19.1: Theme Song Evaluation (1)
Upon seeing the commercial projected on the big screen, the trainees on-site—and the viewers in every live stream room of Youth Unstoppable—were equally wide-eyed in shock.
On the screen, Shen Xiu appeared as if he had just finished working out and taken a shower. With soothing music playing in the background, he walked barefoot across a brown wood-patterned floor. A gentle breeze rustled the off-white curtains, then swept through Shen Xiu’s slightly damp, slicked-back black hair, lifting a few strands which then fell loosely. Sunlight streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting faint shadows from his hair onto the bridge of his tall, well-defined nose.
Shen Xiu was wearing light gray, loose-fitting, thin drawstring athletic pants, and nothing on his upper body. He walked straight toward a double-door obsidian steel refrigerator not far away.
When he reached the fridge, Shen Xiu stretched out his long, slender fingers, clearly defined at the joints, and casually pulled out a green-bottled kiwi juice drink. Twisting off the cap, he tilted his head back and gulped down half the bottle in one go. As he lowered the bottle, crystal-clear droplets of water trickled from his chin down onto his chest.
At that moment, a vibrant green summer-themed caption appeared prominently in the center of the screen:
“A bottle a day, embark on a refreshing summer adventure.”
With Shen Xiu’s cool, low voice as the closing note, the commercial came to an end.
No matter how you looked at it, the commercial was flawless.
Though a newcomer, Shen Xiu’s performance—from his features to his physique, his movements, and even his delivery of the final line—was exceptional in every aspect, leaving everyone stunned.
His voice, cold and deep, paired with his stoic expression, made even the fridge—used in the ad to represent the chill of the juice—seem less cold than he was. The juice bottle in his hand seemed to radiate a natural coolness, amplifying the ad’s intended refreshing summer vibe.
What shocked everyone even more was the fact that the “benefit” juice ad, supposedly awarded to the show’s most popular contestant, was for none other than the nationally renowned “Li Brand” juice. It was so famous it didn’t even need commercials—its presence was everywhere, on shelves in every city and alley across the country.
There’s even a saying: “A childhood without Li Brand juice is incomplete.”
All of their past ad ambassadors were top-tier A-list celebrities, yet now, the promo for their newest flavor had been handed over to a group of pre-debut trainees as a “reward.”
This wasn’t just luck falling from the sky—it was like a mountain of gold dropping straight onto someone’s head. And Shen Xiu was that one-in-a-million lucky guy, instantly becoming the center of attention.
In the practice room, a wave of excited chatter broke out—full of envy and admiration.
“Ahhhh I’m dying of jealousy, but when I remember it’s Shen Xiu who got it, it… honestly makes sense.”
“Yeah, you’re right. It’s Shen Xiu. Then it’s fine.”
“Kiwi juice? That flavor sounds kind of weird, but watching Shen Xiu in that ad… it looked so cold, so tasty, so refreshing—I kind of want to try it now, what’s happening to me?!”
When the commercial played the first time, the livestream viewers watched in total silence.
By the second run, the screen was flooded with barrage comments.
[Cool-as-ice Shen Xiu holding a niche kiwi juice, drinking it with that frosty expression—you can literally feel the chill through the screen.]
[What is this? Abs? Eight-pack? Take a look! What is this? Abs? Eight-pack? Take a look!]
[To all the male celebs in the entertainment industry—stop making only the girls work for it! Guys need to step up too! Shen Xiu is the new standard—this is what a male idol’s body should look like. @all the celebs with beer belly before thirty.]
[I have a feeling this ad’s about to go viral. Calling it now—if it blows up, I’ll be one of the OGs who saw Shen Xiu’s abs first!]
As the star of the commercial, Shen Xiu took one look at himself stepping out of the bathroom shirtless on the big screen—and took advantage of the moment while everyone was still captivated by the ad. Before anyone had the chance to react or laugh at him, he fled the scene like lightning, vanishing from what was clearly about to become a massive public execution.
Utter humiliation!
But hey—avoiding it might be cowardly, but it works!
As far as Shen Xiu was concerned, from this day forward, his social life was officially over.
Who in their right mind shows up shirtless in front of an entire crowd?! And not just anywhere—on a giant screen! For all the trainees to see… no, wait—for the whole country to see!
Shen Xiu was speechless. His brain short-circuited. All he wanted now was to launch himself off the planet and disappear forever. That’s it.
When he’d first been called by the staff to film the ad, the director had shot two versions. In the first one, Shen Xiu was fully dressed. In the second, the director asked him to try the same movements without a shirt. The entire reshoot lasted ten minutes, after which the director waved him off.
As Shen Xiu was leaving, the memory of being shirtless during filming made him so anxious—like he’d walked down the street naked—that he mustered the courage to ask the director which version would be used.
The director told him they’d go with the first one. Said the ad wouldn’t even air until after the first public performance. Shen Xiu left feeling reassured.
But now? Shen Xiu only had one thing to say:
He’d been too naive. The director’s mouth? Full of lies!
On the small scale, every trainee he saw every day had now seen him half-naked and shameless on screen. On the larger scale… his teachers and classmates at school might have seen it too.
That’s it. Game over. How was he ever going to face anyone again?
That ad might as well have been him running down the street naked.
Shen Xiu was losing it. His brain’s CPU was overloaded, flashing red, and the stress signals were spreading from his head to his face, rapidly engulfing his entire body.
Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, DON’T THINK ABOUT IT!!!
The more he thought about it on his way back to the dorm, the more overwhelmed with shame he became. He wanted nothing more than to dig a hole and bury himself alive. His steps were wobbly, and he practically floated back in a disembodied state. As soon as he arrived, he grabbed some clothes and dove straight into the bathroom.
He needed a cold shower. Immediately. Top to bottom. Full system reset.
As the icy mist filled the bathroom, Shen Xiu kept frantically brainwashing himself.
‘It’s fine. I just need to survive today.’
‘Maybe people’s memories aren’t that great? Like… possibly? Hopefully?’
‘There are tons of ads every single day. Mine was less than a minute. I’m not even famous. Probably no one even cares. Most people who saw it probably didn’t even give it a second glance. Just give it a few days, and everyone will forget this whole humiliating incident ever happened.’
When he thought about it that way… maybe there was still hope?
‘Yes! That’s right!’
‘Shen Xiu, you’ve got this. Be strong. You can—’
‘CAN YOUR HEAD, WAHHH!!’
In the bathroom filled with cold steam, Shen Xiu slumped against the tiled wall, forehead pressed to the cold ceramic, spiraling into silence.
He realized… maybe he didn’t got this.
—
Meanwhile, in the practice room.
Song Chengwang stared wide-eyed at the ad playing for the second time, his competitive drive suddenly reignited.
“Holy crap, no way—Shen Xiu’s got an eight-pack under that T-shirt?! I only have six! We live in the same dorm, how could he secretly—”
He turned, ready to confront Shen Xiu—
—only to find that the spot where Shen Xiu had been standing was now completely empty.
“Huh?”
Song Chengwang blinked in confusion.
“Where’d Shen Xiu go?!”
“Damn, seriously? I just wanted to compare abs a little, and you’ve got two more than me—how is that even not worth comparing?”
If he had two more abs than someone else, you bet he’d be flexing them 24/7. He wouldn’t rest until everyone knew how hard he worked for them.
Shang Yu’s mouth twitched slightly.
“Song Chengwang, tone down your weird little competitive streak.”
Jiang Yanxi chimed in: “Exactly. It’s just two more abs. For someone like Shen Xiu, who’s that disciplined, it’s really not a big deal, okay? There’s no way he cares. Only you would care.”
Hearing the group chatting, the trainees finally noticed something strange: Shen Xiu had disappeared at some point.
Everyone looked around, confused.
“Why did Shen Xiu leave? He’s not watching with us? Before we joined this show, none of us had debuted. This has to be Shen Xiu’s first commercial, right? And not only did he nail it, it was for Li Brand juice. That’s a huge deal!”
“Maybe that’s just how it is when you’re a real big shot. Just one ad? Barely worth mentioning for Demon King Xiu.”
“Demon King Xiu? What the heck is that? Cough—honestly, I think ‘Iceberg Overlord’ suits Shen Xiu’s vibe better.”
“You two better stop while he’s gone—talking like he’s some kind of supervillain.”
“Hey, what can we do? None of us would dare say this to his face. Shen Xiu’s stare is way too cold. Just earlier, when he was correcting my posture, my whole body went stiff. I didn’t even dare blink, let alone mess up again—did not want to get hit with that death glare again from the Ice King.”
“Real talk though, if I got to film an ad like that? I’d be so excited I’d literally explode like fireworks.”
“You’re being too modest. If that ad were mine, not just my building—every neighborhood for three blocks would know about it. And if they didn’t, it’d only be because my parents didn’t promote it hard enough.”
Gu Shang spoke up quietly: “Maybe… this is the difference between us and a real big shot.”
That one line silenced the entire room.
They didn’t want to admit it, but… Gu Shang had hit the nail on the head.
[Classic Gu Shang. Please shut up before someone punches you.]
[Shen Xiu really is on another level. For someone like him, this ad probably doesn’t mean much. Otherwise, how could he have just taken one glance at it and walked away so calmly?]
[Not a hint of surprise or excitement on his face from beginning to end. Cold and composed to the core. That’s our Ice King.]
[No no no, you’re missing the best part—he was so unbothered, he went back to the dorm and took a shower. Who does that? That’s Shen Xiu for you: cold as ice, and ice is his default state.]
…
When Shen Xiu finally stepped out of the bathroom, he felt like his brain had been flash-frozen.
Good.
Shen Xiu figured that was probably for the best.
At least if his brain wasn’t working properly, he might stop replaying the terrifying social death scene over and over again.
Before any of his roommates returned, and for the first time since the start of the program, Shen Xiu actually approached a staff member to make a request.
“Excuse me… can I get a dozen face masks?”
The staff member blinked, clearly surprised.
Ever since the trainees entered the training camp, they had been under 24/7 livestream surveillance. For most of them, every second on camera mattered—no one in their right mind would willingly cover their face with a mask.
Still confused, the staff handed over the masks.
“Here you go.”
“Thank you.”
After receiving the masks and awkwardly thanking the staff, Shen Xiu turned stiffly to leave—while secretly letting out a long, deep sigh of relief.
Without hesitation, he tore open a fresh mask and pulled it over his face.
Heh. With this mask on, no one will recognize me!
The person he was now… was no longer the same person from before.
He had officially evolved—to someone who would wear a mask just to preserve the last scraps of his dignity!
God knows how much courage it took for him to even ask the staff for masks earlier. Thankfully, the staffer hadn’t looked at him weirdly.
Which probably meant—they hadn’t seen that shameful, shirtless ad yet.
Or so Shen Xiu hoped.
With the mask secured, Shen Xiu finally felt safe enough to head to the cafeteria.
…
Over the next three days, determined to avoid any conversation—or worse, getting laughed at—Shen Xiu made up his mind to go full stealth mode, treating everyone, including his own roommates, as potential threats in guerrilla warfare.
To that end:
He moved his morning wake-up time from 7:00 a.m. to 5:00 a.m.
He started going to bed by 9:00 p.m.
Nobody was catching him out and about.
As for choosing practice rooms—out of the 20 different ones spread across floors 7 to 12—Shen Xiu based his daily location on the second hand of the dorm room clock the moment he finished getting ready. Pure randomness was his strategy.
Even if he absolutely had to cross paths with another trainee, Shen Xiu had a plan: Nod, keep walking, and never give them the chance to bring up the ad.
For the sake of his pride, Shen Xiu was giving it everything he had.
By the end of those three days, all the trainees could feel it—Shen Xiu’s whole vibe had grown even colder than before.
He radiated an aura that screamed “do not approach”, like a lone wolf prowling in subzero silence.
Strangely enough, Shen Xiu had started wearing a mask—all the time.
No matter when they ran into him, it was like the mask had been welded to his face.
What’s more shocking was—according to a certain anonymous trainee from Class A—Shen Xiu had taken his already intense training habits to the next level.
He used to get up at 7 a.m., but now? He was up at 5 a.m.
He left the dorm so early, nobody even noticed him go.
Even scarier? Shen Xiu didn’t take naps. At all.
The trainees from Class A dorm said whether it was early morning or right after lunch, Shen Xiu was always MIA.
By the time they got back at 10 p.m., Shen Xiu was already peacefully asleep in his bed.
If Shen Xiu used to be the “King of Grinding,” he had now ascended to a god-tier level—the God of the Grind.
And since this transformation started right after the second day of theme song practice, all the trainees who’d been guided by Shen Xiu couldn’t help but grow nervous.
They were convinced it was their fault.
They must’ve sung or danced so badly during practice that Shen Xiu was internally shattered.
It was just like when they were students—how teachers would get mad when you couldn’t solve a basic problem.
Except most teachers would just snap and scold you on the spot.
Not Shen Xiu.
He didn’t say a single harsh word.
No sarcasm, no passive-aggressive remarks—just a cold, disappointed stare full of “I expected better from you.”
It was the kind of look that made you wonder if maybe you were the problem.
Maybe you were holding him back.
So Shen Xiu chose to say nothing—and just silently pushed himself to get even better, like a lone warrior preparing for battle.
Regarding this, a certain anonymous trainee with the surname “Gu” commented:
“As expected of Iceberg Demon King Shen Xiu—the Grind God. Truly terrifying.”
And just as the livestream viewers had predicted, while Shen Xiu remained blissfully unaware…
His Li Brand Kiwi Juice commercial had quietly gone viral, making its way onto the trending charts and getting seen by countless new viewers.
#LiBrandNewKiwiJuice—ShenXiuChillsYourWholeSummer
#ShenXiuAbsSlide
#WhoIsShenXiu?
#ShenXiu—MakeMaleCelebsGrindToo
New viewers swarmed into the livestream, drawn in by the trending tags.
Thanks to the enthusiastic breakdowns by longtime fans, they quickly caught up on all things Shen Xiu and the legendary Shen-language.
One by one, they were blown away by Shen Xiu’s over-the-top grind mentality—and fell headfirst into the Shen pit.
[No wonder he’s Boss Shen. When the other trainees couldn’t keep up with his choreography, he didn’t blame them—he blamed his own teaching skills, and then pushed himself even harder. He doesn’t even care that his kiwi juice ad is blowing up and trending all over. I’m crying, literally.]
[Because he couldn’t teach the trainees well, Boss Shen put himself into mask-wearing exile, thinking he wasn’t good enough—too ashamed to show his face.]
[Everyone just gets Boss Shen so well. I didn’t catch on to any of that. Clearly, I haven’t studied Shen Study deeply enough to understand the soft heart behind his icy exterior.] [Keep it up, sis. We’ll be waiting for you on the other side of enlightenment!]
