Chapter 19.2: Theme Song Evaluation (1)
The remaining three days of theme song practice flew by in the blink of an eye—for everyone else.
For Shen Xiu, they crawled by like centuries.
On the sixth day, the dreaded reassessment for theme song rankings finally arrived.
Shen Xiu had no choice but to take off the mask he practically wanted to weld to his face. Bracing himself with the mindset of “Sooner or later, I’m doomed anyway—might as well get it over with,” he dragged his heavy feet out of the dorm and toward the 8th-floor practice room, where the reassessment would take place.
Because the reassessment was happening there, the 8th-floor studio had gotten a bit of a makeover.
The floor was now split into six sections labeled A, B, C, D, E, and F, with big signs clearly marking each zone.
At the front, the performance area had four identically sized round stages arranged in pairs—two in front, two in back, each pair connected. The trainees stared at the setup, totally baffled, wondering what bizarre gimmick the production team was trying this time.
Before their curiosity could be satisfied, Shen Xiu strode in—practically radiating a cold, sharp aura of “don’t mess with me.”
The moment they saw him, the trainees were instantly reminded of that time they made Shen Xiu doubt his entire existence during practice. One by one, they averted their gazes in shame, pretending to look elsewhere or murmuring to the person beside them—anything to avoid locking eyes with Shen Xiu and facing his soul-piercing glare.
Nervously, Shen Xiu stepped into the room.
And then—like a miracle—he realized… no one was looking at him!
Shen Xiu: “!”
Sitting in the Class A area, the crushing weight that had been pressing down on him for the past three days suddenly lifted the moment he discovered this glorious truth.
In an instant, his heart stopped racing, the heat left his cheeks, and even his breathing felt lighter. Back straight, spirit refreshed, Shen Xiu was reborn.
Excellent!
Looks like he was right—time really does make people forget everything. Everyone had already moved on from the whole commercial fiasco, and his face, well… was barely saved!
[Look at Boss Xiu walking in all confident and proud! Just like that commercial last time, this theme song reassessment is probably no biggie to him—child’s play. Nervous? What’s that? Boss Xiu’s never heard of it.]
[I don’t even have to look—I know he’s staying in Class A. No way he’s dropping.]
[A-class, no doubt. I’m just curious how they’re gonna decide who gets center this time.]
Meanwhile, over in the other class sections…
“Thank goodness they split us up by ranking. If I had to sit next to Shen Xiu, I’d die of secondhand embarrassment.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. Every time I see him now, it feels like I bombed an exam and don’t have the guts to face the teacher. Totally ashamed, totally guilty.”
“I mean, I’ve been practicing nonstop these past few days, and I thought I had it down yesterday. But now? I feel like I didn’t practice nearly enough. I’m so nervous. When am I gonna be as calm as Shen Xiu?”
“Try getting up at 5 a.m. to train every day like he does—then maybe we can talk about catching up to him.”
“I feel like… the day I can get out of bed without making a single sound will be the day I’ve finally reached Brother Xiu’s level.”
“Hah, keep dreaming, buddy.”
In the F-class area, Lin Jiashi and Ke Zi’an were still sitting side by side.
When Shen Xiu walked into the practice room, Lin Jiashi could clearly tell that Ke Zi’an kept sneaking glances at him from across the seat.
Lin Jiashi tilted his head, caught Ke Zi’an’s gaze, and whispered, “Why do you keep staring at Shen Xiu?”
Ke Zi’an whispered back, “I want to thank him.”
“Huh?” Lin Jiashi looked confused.
Seeing Lin Jiashi’s puzzled expression, Ke Zi’an suddenly remembered that day he’d tried to wake Lin Jiashi up to go with him, but Lin Jiashi had turned him down, saying he was too tired. He hadn’t known what had happened.
So Ke Zi’an explained, “It was that day in the 10th floor practice room. Xiang Yueting agreed to help us out and invited Shen Xiu to give us a crash training session. I called you, but you said you were too tired and wanted to sleep, so you didn’t come. That day, Shen Xiu helped me fix eight of my moves. My dancing’s way more on point now. I’ve been wanting to thank him ever since… but he looks so scary. I’m too scared to say anything.”
The fact that he couldn’t even say a simple thank-you made Ke Zi’an feel kind of pathetic.
But honestly, with Shen Xiu’s eternally frosty face and “keep your distance” aura… yeah, he chickened out.
Thanking him one-on-one? Way too much pressure for a tiny scaredy-cat like him.
“Shen Xiu personally corrected your moves?” Lin Jiashi was stunned. His voice came out louder than he intended.
People nearby overheard and chimed in softly, “Yeah, I went too.”
Several others nodded, saying they’d been there as well. Lin Jiashi thought back to that same day, when he’d gone to Class A’s room… and Shen Xiu hadn’t acknowledged him once. His hand, resting beside him, slowly curled into a fist.
He stayed quiet.
“Jiashi?” Ke Zi’an looked at him, confused.
“Hm?” Lin Jiashi snapped out of it and replied. Then he reached over and pinched Ke Zi’an’s cheek. “An’an, be brave. It’s just a ‘thank you’—no need to be scared.”
“Don’t worry, once the reassessment’s over, I’ll go with you.”
Ke Zi’an hesitated. “Or… maybe we just…”
“An’an,” Lin Jiashi cut him off gently, “didn’t you tell me you wanted to change? If you don’t start now, then when? Be brave. Say what you want to say. Do what you want to do. I’ll always have your back.”
It was like Ke Zi’an got an instant injection of courage. He nodded hard. “I-I’ll do it right after the assessment!”
And just to be sure, he added, “You have to come with me though.”
The live-streaming camera arm swung away from Class F.
Lin Jiashi smiled and nodded. “Alright.”
…
At exactly 9:00 AM, He Ting entered the practice room with the four mentors.
Host He Ting stood at the center of the stage, while the four mentors took their seats at the side in the mentor section.
Seeing the mentors and the host arrive, the trainees below were instantly reminded of today’s reassessment—and couldn’t help but tense up.
“Good morning, trainees!” He Ting called out brightly.
A chorus of energetic voices echoed back, “Good morning!”
He Ting smiled. “Everyone looks full of energy today! It seems like the five days of practice have paid off. So, let’s skip the long speech and jump right into the theme song ranking reassessment. When your name is called, please come up—two people at a time. Stand face to face on Round Stage 1 and Round Stage 2 to begin the evaluation.”
The moment they heard the words “face to face,” the trainees collectively froze.
Face each other while getting evaluated for the theme song?! That’s brutal! Way tougher than the initial assessment!
Totally different from last season!
He Ting chuckled, “Don’t panic, everyone. This is just a small warm-up. Trust me—there are plenty more ‘fun’ challenges waiting for you as the show goes on.”
Trainees: “…” Heh. Not funny. Really not funny.
[This production team is full of spicy tricks. I’m here for it.]
[I get it—it’s a test of mental strength and how well you can handle pressure. After all, a qualified idol has to be ready to deal with any kind of stage mishap and still deliver their best performance, no matter what.]
He Ting continued, “Do you remember what Teacher Xue Yi from the assistant mentor team told you at the start of the show? Every debut member chosen by ‘Youth Unstoppable’ must be the very best. Now let me tell you—‘the very best’ doesn’t just mean singing and dancing skills. It includes adaptability under pressure, leadership, organizational skills, and more. You have to believe in yourselves! Got it?”
“So, any more questions now?”
The trainees, thoroughly convinced, shook their heads and shouted, “No!”
Shen Xiu, sitting in his seat, heard Xiang Yueting next to him practically roar the word “No!” with unshakable conviction, and his scalp tingled in horror.
Facing each other while performing…?
Dear god—what kind of nightmare fuel is that?!
Seriously, there’s no need to t*rture him with a thousand cuts. Just put him out of his misery already!
But no one cared about Shen Xiu’s mental collapse—the assessment officially began.
He Ting announced, “First group—Luo Yuan and Jiang Yuheng, please come to the stage.”
…
With the exception of a two-hour lunch break, the theme song assessment ran from 9 a.m. all the way until 5 p.m. At last, it was time for the final pair.
He Ting had been speaking practically all day and his voice was starting to go hoarse. “Final group—Shen Xiu and Xia Wenhao, please come to the stage.”
Shen Xiu couldn’t believe it—of all possibilities, he had to be in the last group with Xia Wenhao?!
After the reassessment, trainees would move to their new ranking zones based on their updated level.
There were now a few more people sitting around Shen Xiu, but who exactly had joined him, he had no idea—he was way too mentally checked out to care. He’d been sitting and waiting the entire day, and by now, he was completely numb.
When the host finally called his name, Shen Xiu dragged himself on stage with a blank expression, taking his place on Stage 1—directly facing Xia Wenhao on Stage 2.
Shen Xiu: Terrified.
Just the memory of Xia Wenhao calling him a “conspicuous bag” last time and issuing that oh-so-bold challenge made Shen Xiu glance across the stage at his opponent.
Shen Xiu: …What now? Even more terrified.
And the show had the nerve to set up this stage in a face-to-face format. Clearly, the production team had studied his greatest fears.
In a desperate bid to calm the storm of anxiety brewing inside him, Shen Xiu forced himself to tune everything out—the audience of trainees, the mentors nearby, the host’s voice, and especially Xia Wenhao right in front of him.
Ignore. Ignore everything. They’re just air! Wisps of harmless, meaningless air. Nothing to focus on.
Look! Behind that puff of air in front of you (i.e., Xia Wenhao), there’s a light switch on the back wall. That switch is now your entire universe. That’s the only thing you’re allowed to see!
Through constant mental chanting, Shen Xiu’s eyes went unfocused. In the blank whiteness of his mind, only that little black switch on the far wall remained visible.
Ahh… peace at last.
Shen Xiu’s breathing slowly evened out.
Meanwhile, across from him, Xia Wenhao was staring at Shen Xiu—who looked cool as ice, utterly indifferent, as if Xia Wenhao didn’t even exist.
Xia Wenhao: “…”
Ugh. Shen Xiu was ignoring him again. Infuriating!
But it’s fine. Xia Wenhao gave himself a silent pep talk.
The last five days of brutal, round-the-clock practice had all led to this moment. Today, in front of everyone, he was going to make Shen Xiu look at him in a whole new light!
As the familiar opening notes of “Wind and Waves” drifted from the speakers, Shen Xiu and Xia Wenhao, face to face, began their performance…
In the blank void of his mind, countless hours of practice had given Shen Xiu an almost supernatural command of “Wind and Waves”.
Right now, he didn’t have to think. No need to mentally replay the choreography or lyrics like before. His limbs, his voice—they were fully immersed in the world of “Wind and Waves”, moving purely on instinct, flawlessly recreating the peak version he had drilled over and over again…
“He’s hitting every move with both control and flow—like water running smooth and strong. This is just too cool!”
“Wait—is Xia Wenhao watching Shen Xiu? Brother, don’t bother. Shen Xiu hasn’t spared you a single glance!”
“Watching Shen Xiu, I finally understand what my dance teacher meant by ‘clean, powerful hits with full presence—no excess, no mess.’”
“They’re standing right in front of each other, but Shen Xiu moves like Xia Wenhao isn’t even there. His every step, every motion—pure confidence and presence. Is this what it looks like when a true king owns the stage?”
“Look at Shen Xiu’s eyes! It’s supposed to be a duo assessment, but I swear Xia Wenhao does not exist in his universe. That level of focus and that kind of quiet dominance? Insane!”
[They’re both dancing to Wind and Waves, but it somehow feels like they’re performing two completely different routines.]
[Help—because they do feel so different, I actually think both of them are amazing!]
[Shen Xiu is like the unstoppable captain steering through the storm in Wind and Waves. To him, wild seas are nothing but playful ripples. He’s not just dancing the song—he’s dancing his life.]
[No wonder the original creators of Wind and Waves said, “A thousand dancers, a thousand Waves.” I totally get it now.]
Three minutes later, the final performance of the theme song evaluation came to an end.
Shen Xiu and Xia Wenhao finished their final sharp synchronized move and stood upright on the circular stage.
Dragged abruptly out of the ethereal world of “Wind and Waves”, Shen Xiu looked dazed, his gaze still resting gently on the black light switch on the wall ahead.
It’s over, he told himself. “Wind and Waves” has ended. Time to come back to reality.
Gradually, his eyes began to refocus.
Xia Wenhao had also come to the end of “Wind and Waves”.
He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with intensity. His eyes were locked on Shen Xiu—who, throughout the entire performance, hadn’t so much as glanced at him, hadn’t shown the slightest wavering in breath or composure.
For a moment, Xia Wenhao felt completely at a loss.
In Shen Xiu’s presence, he finally understood what it meant to be an ant facing an elephant.
Host He Ting’s voice rang out:
“Shen Xiu, Xia Wenhao, that concludes the final theme song performance. Let’s now turn our attention to the mentors—your final evaluation results will be announced in two minutes.”
All the trainees simultaneously turned to look at the four mentors seated to the left of the stage.
Each of the mentors was writing their judgment for where Shen Xiu and Xia Wenhao should be placed—what class they should go to—on a shared evaluation board.
When the board reached head mentor He Youna, she frowned and placed it back in the middle of the group.
“What’s this supposed to mean? Are you saying there’s disagreement?”
Ye Ning nodded slightly: “I think he should be placed in Class A.”
Zhao Jinning shook his head: “No, something feels off. I think he should spend some time in Class B, gain a little more experience.”
Qin Xi said, “Wouldn’t that be unfair to him? The expression might’ve been different, but it was still very valid.”
Zhao Jinning insisted,“Still, something felt off about the second half. I can’t justify putting him in Class A.”
He Youna helplessly reminded them, “This is just a theme song re-evaluation, not some world-class stage performance. Let’s not set the bar that high.”
There were microphones in front of the mentors, and although the final results hadn’t been announced yet, the trainees could hear every word of the heated debate loud and clear.
…
On stage, Shen Xiu and Xia Wenhao stood side by side, one on the left and one on the right, quietly waiting for their evaluation results.
Standing on the left, Shen Xiu heard the arguing and instantly plunged into a spiral of self-doubt. In his mind, he started replaying everything, trying to figure out what he could’ve done wrong.
Was it the dance moves? Were they off?
Did he miss a note while singing?
Was his breathing shaky? His voice unclear?
Impossible. Absolutely impossible. Shen Xiu’s eyes grew firm with conviction.
He had practiced the routine countless times—every single morning, without fail. He even rewatched the original version again and again. There’s no way he messed up!
He might not always have confidence in himself, but when it came to his brain, Shen Xiu had full faith.
So… what on earth were the mentors even arguing about?
Shen Xiu was stumped. His mind couldn’t make sense of it, and he stood there dazed, staring blankly ahead like a loading screen stuck at 99%.
With no answer in sight, his body started reacting—hands and feet turned cold, lips pressed together in silent tension.
It was the kind of dread you’d imagine right before a guillotine comes down—a prisoner awaiting execution.
…
Hearing the escalating debate, Xia Wenhao nervously swallowed, clenching his fists tight. Sweat broke out on his forehead, and his palms were already soaked.
He could practically hear his heart pounding, like it was trying to escape through his chest.
What about Shen Xiu? Was he freaking out too?
Xia Wenhao snuck a glance.
To his surprise, Shen Xiu stood there ramrod straight, posture perfect, eyes calmly fixed forward from start to finish, lips pressed into a firm line. His whole vibe screamed steady and confident, not a hint of nerves to be seen.
Unlike him—who was so flustered, his eyes were darting all over the place.
In Xia Wenhao’s view, even the sharp angle of Shen Xiu’s jaw seemed to scream “Nervous? Don’t even know that word” with a kind of cold, aloof coolness.
Xia Wenhao: “……”
He was being ridiculous. How could he ever think Shen Xiu was anything like him?
He really was an idiot. Truly!
…
Down below the stage, the trainees who had already finished their re-evaluations were buzzing with heated discussion.
“Are the mentors arguing about Shen Xiu?”
“I seriously can’t imagine Shen Xiu in Class B.”
“Maybe there was some flaw in his performance that we missed but the mentors caught? That’s why the debate is so intense?”
“If the mentors are going this hard, shouldn’t Shen Xiu, the person in question, be the most nervous one here? But look at him—cool as ice, like he’s saying, ‘Y’all argue all you want, I know I’m A. Come at me.’ Not even a twitch. Damn. Just… damn.”
“And people still wonder why they say Shen Xiu has nerves of steel.”
“If Shen Xiu doesn’t make it into Class A, I don’t think I even deserve to sit in the A-section.”
The timer buzzed. He Ting looked toward the mentors’ panel and announced, “Three minutes are up. Clearly, the competition over the final group’s re-evaluation has been intense. The mentors are struggling to come to a decision. But no matter how hard it is to decide, time’s up—and a choice must be made. So what will the outcome be?”
“And now, let’s invite our lead mentor, Teacher He, to reveal the results of the re-evaluation for trainees Shen Xiu and Xia Wenhao!”
