Chapter 25: Preparation for the First Performance (5)
Shi Buwen: “I, your wise and mighty director Shi, of course, am making a wise and mighty decision.”
Assistant Director: “…”
Are you sure this isn’t going against the ancestors’ wishes?
The Assistant Director hesitated: “But Director Shi, we agreed on a 24-hour live stream. This… doesn’t seem quite right, does it?”
All the practice room live streams were turned off. What are the viewers supposed to watch now?
“I think it’s perfectly fine,” Shi Buwen said, pointing at the other cameras that were still on. “The hallway, the cafeteria, the dorms, and the other open practice room cameras are still running. How can that not count as a 24-hour live stream?”
“Hiding the practice progress of each group will make it more mysterious, building anticipation for the viewers. When the first public performance’s live stream happens, it’ll definitely peak in viewership.”
Assistant Director: “…” The Head Director is really good at splitting hairs and finding loopholes.
If possible, he really wanted to bring in a live stream camera from outside and show the viewers the expression on Director Shi’s face. And casually reveal that Blood Romance was written into the script by Director Shi himself.
But… the power of life and death in the show was in Director Shi’s hands. The Assistant Director touched his already thinning hair, sighed, and left.
He didn’t even dare to look at how the viewers in the live stream were criticizing them.
And… he actually thought that while the Director’s earlier words were unprincipled, the later ones seemed to make some sense.
“Xiao Gong, write up a statement to post on the official account. Basically saying, ‘In order to maintain the mystery of the performance stage, the live streams of each group’s practice room will be temporarily closed, but other live streams will remain open.’ Got it?”
“Understood.”
[Now, the live streams of each group’s practice rooms have been turned off. So frustrating!]
[The production team posted a message, saying that in order to maintain the mystery of the performance stage, the live streams are temporarily closed. I understand, but… I really want to watch.]
[I’m going crazy, can someone tell me? It’s only been a little while since they closed the stream, but I’m already so curious about what they’re doing in there. I’m dying of anxiety! This trash production team!]
[No, aren’t they just practicing songs? Why do the members of the Shen Xiu team keep moving strange, unidentifiable things into their room? What are they doing in there? I really want to experience the trainee’s first-person perspective!]
The production team quickly notified the staff and all twelve groups about the temporary closure of the practice room live streams.
As for the production team’s actions, the other group leaders said: “We must work hard so that when the performance stage arrives, we can amaze all the viewers who support us!”
Shen Xiu: What? The production team is so thoughtful. They’ve saved my team from being roasted in advance!
After inspecting the stage layout and returning to the practice room, Shen Xiu, taking advantage of the time while his team members were still moving their things into the room, took a rectangular piece of paper and a set of pens from the items he had brought back and sat in front of the multimedia equipment, putting on headphones to watch the MV.
To avoid having his team members contaminated by the ‘Blood Romance’ song while they were bringing things into the room, Shen Xiu didn’t play it on the large wall screen but watched it quietly on the equipment desk.
Time was tight. Aside from today, they only had five more days to practice before the stage performance began.
Shen Xiu couldn’t afford to waste time. He forced himself not only to watch but to watch closely, searching for new ideas.
As he watched, Shen Xiu occasionally jotted down notes and sketches on the paper in front of him.
He had to finish everything before the practice session started tomorrow morning.
After watching the MV countless times, Shen Xiu finally finished his drawing.
He stood up, holding the long roll of paper in his hands, and looked at the patterns and characters he’d drawn with a satisfied sound, “Done.”
As he spoke, Shen Xiu looked up to find something to stick the paper onto the wall, only to see eight people standing not far from him.
Shen Xiu: “!”
He was so startled that he gripped the sides of the long paper tightly.
When… did they come back? They didn’t make a sound, it was so scary!
Under Shen Xiu’s cold, judging gaze, everyone nervously swallowed the dry lump in their throats.
Xiang Yueting stared at the long roll of paper in Shen Xiu’s hand: “Shen Xiu, are you… okay?”
It had been a full five hours since they had finished moving the things Shen Xiu had listed into the practice room.
And for those five hours, Shen Xiu had sat there motionless in front of the multimedia equipment, watching Blood Romance’s MV while scribbling on the paper.
Five whole hours of that painful-to-watch MV!
Throughout it all, Shen Xiu remained incredibly calm, so calm that it made them uneasy.
They were afraid he might snap in silence, so no one dared to interrupt him.
Shen Xiu, on the other hand, was completely confused.
He was fine, so why were they asking this?
After hesitating for a moment, Shen Xiu nodded: “Mm.”
“Hah…” Shen Xiu’s mental state still seemed stable, and Xiang Yueting let out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness, it’s not the calm before the storm.”
Everyone could deeply relate to what Xiang Yueting said.
Shen Xiu was the only mental pillar of their team. If watching the original MV for that long had caused him to break down mentally, how could they continue on?
After the tension lifted, everyone was once again amazed by Shen Xiu’s strong mental fortitude.
Indeed, a strong person’s mental state is far more stable than theirs!
If any of them had to watch that eye-straining thing for five hours, they’d be questioning why they were even alive, enduring such mental torture.
Zhou Tong stepped forward and placed a lunchbox on the table. “This is food we brought back from the cafeteria. You were watching so intently you missed lunch, so we didn’t want to disturb you. We ate first.”
Shen Xiu’s focused expression made him seem distant, and the occasional furrow of his brow exuded a coldness that kept others at arm’s length.
They’d heard that when a big shot is deeply immersed in something or has a flash of inspiration, losing track of time and skipping meals is normal. Interrupting them would only lead to unhappiness.
By the time it was mealtime, they didn’t want to bother Shen Xiu, worried that the cafeteria would stop serving food. So, they packed the food, put it in the fridge, and reheated it in the microwave to give it to him now.
They appreciated how hard Shen Xiu had worked for their group.
Jiang Yuheng added, “The items on the list have all been prepared.”
Although they still didn’t understand what Shen Xiu was planning to do with all these things.
Looking at the freshly heated food and the pile of items in the corner, Shen Xiu couldn’t help but internally brag to the system: [Did you see that? Did you see? Tell me, aren’t you jealous?]
What kind of divine teammates does he have?!
Shen Xiu sincerely expressed his gratitude, “Thank you, everyone, for your hard work!”
They were a team, and doing things for the team was only natural, but being thanked still made everyone happy.
“It’s the least we can do.”
“Ha, no need to mention it.”
“You’ve worked hard too.”
Although they didn’t understand what Shen Xiu was doing, they were sure that it was all for the performance!
Shen Xiu glanced at the eight people, his eyes landing on Xiang Yueting, the one he was most familiar with. “You and I will hang this up on the wall.”
Xiang Yueting: “Okay!”
The other members eagerly added, “We’ll go find the tools to hang it up.”
One minute later, with everyone’s combined efforts, the long roll of paper drawn by Shen Xiu was hung up on the wall near the door.
The drawing depicted nine paper-cut figures, each with distinctive clothing and facial expressions. Above each figure’s head was a name and a label that Shen Xiu had added based on each person’s traits.
Qin Hua = Zombie
Ke Zi’an & Zhou Tong = Duo Clowns
Xiang Yueting & Xia Wenhao = Demons
Ying Zi’ang = Werewolf
Jiang Yuheng = Zombie
Lu Qian = Magician
Shen Xiu = Vampire
Ying Zi’ang was in disbelief: “I… I’m a werewolf?”
He was so shy and silly, how could he be a werewolf?
Xiang Yueting burst into laughter. “Hahaha, I’m a demon.” Afterward, he leaned into Jiang Yuheng’s ear and said in a low, eerie voice, “Demon whispers… tell me, are you scared?”
Jiang Yuheng: “Childish.”
Although everyone didn’t really understand Shen Xiu’s reasoning behind the assignments, they had an unexplainable faith in him—if Shen Xiu did it, then he must have his reasons.
But still… while other teams were dividing vocal parts, their team leader was drawing characters and assigning roles. Was this moral bankruptcy? Or a twisted sense of humanity?
Ah, neither. It was clearly the production team that was being inhumane!
“That drawing’s really good.”
“I used to think Shen Xiu could only draw round-headed stick figures, but he can actually draw-draw. That’s impressive.”
“Eh? Why are there chairs in the drawing? Wait, did he draw rocks too? And disassembly steps?”
“I get it now. All that stuff we brought back from the production team… it’s for building the props Shen Xiu drew here, isn’t it?”
While the others were fully immersed in studying the scroll and had their backs turned, Shen Xiu quickly opened his lunchbox and dove into his meal.
While he had been immersed in his mind’s world earlier, he hadn’t noticed his hunger. But now that he was back in the real world, he was starving—he felt like he was about to pass out.
After finishing and cleaning up his lunch, Shen Xiu noticed his teammates were still crowded around the drawing, chatting.
Suddenly, they all felt a powerful pressure from behind. Turning around in sync, they saw Shen Xiu standing behind them.
Meeting their gazes, Shen Xiu followed the plan he’d already thought through while drawing.
He asked, calmly and clearly: “Does anyone have any objections to the assignments above?”
Hearing Shen Xiu’s cold and sharp voice, and seeing the serious look on his face, the team members felt an intense pressure—like students suddenly being called on by a strict teacher. They all shook their heads in unison.
“N-No objections.”
To put it bluntly, “Blood Romance” was a chaotic mess. The elements were all over the place, disjointed and incoherent. The final MV looked like a disaster. Apart from the lyrics, everything else was… basically crap. When they first got this song, they were all in utter despair.
As long as Shen Xiu could salvage it, they were willing to do whatever he asked.
Shen Xiu let out a silent sigh of relief. He had chosen the roles based on each member’s personality and traits, and from what he saw in the MV, every character’s portrayal was painfully awkward. He was just glad everyone accepted it without issue.
He took a moment to organize his thoughts before finally speaking: “Since there are no objections, we need to finish building all the props I drew—today. Do you have confidence?”
With Shen Xiu’s icy gaze pressing down on them, no one dared to say no.
“…Yes!”
To avoid letting their own group’s behavior—which wasn’t all that different from the over-the-top awkwardness of Blood Romance—become a joke for other teams, Shen Xiu looked at his teammates with a serious expression and said:
“I hope none of you talk about what’s going on in here.”
Otherwise, they’d absolutely be branded as the group suffering from full-blown chuunibyou.
Faced with Shen Xiu’s sweeping, icy glare—one that practically oozed silent threat—the group’s emotions were complicated.
Was Shen Xiu saying this because… he was crafting a secret weapon to absolutely destroy the other groups and take revenge for all the mockery they’d received?
If so… it was kind of cool.
So, is this one of those revenge-and-face-slapping storylines?
Yeah, that must be it—no doubt about it!
The scenes of being laughed at as a group were still fresh in their minds. In the face of ridicule and doubt, they refused to give up or abandon each other. They secretly gritted their teeth and pushed forward. Then on the day of the first performance, they’d quietly blow everyone’s minds?
With that thought, everyone suddenly became fired up like they’d been injected with chicken blood. Their eyes were full of determination, and their voices rang out powerfully. They were just one step away from raising their hands to swear an oath.
“Roger that!”
“Don’t worry, we won’t say a word!”
“We swear to protect every secret in this room with our lives!”
Don’t b*lly the young and poor!
This time, the glory that belonged to them—they would take it back under Shen Xiu’s lead and blind those jerks with the brilliance of their titanium alloy dog eyes!
Shen Xiu: “…Alright.”
Though everyone’s expressions… hmm… made him feel a little scared. Something seemed a bit off—like there was a weirdly intense vibe, kind of like the unhinged protagonists in the Blood Romance MV.
Shen Xiu shivered.
Just his imagination. Definitely just his imagination!
There’s no way his teammates could be this cringey!
Even though it felt strange, unless absolutely necessary, Shen Xiu would never ask. Asking meant having to talk more, and if he said something wrong, he’d just embarrass himself.
So, in conclusion—he decided not to ask.
Shen Xiu looked at Zhou Tong. “Can the production team provide the costumes drawn in the sketches?”
Zhou Tong nodded. “They can, but it’ll probably be something similar—they won’t be able to make it exactly like what you drew.”
Shen Xiu: “That’s fine. We’ll make adjustments.”
Zhou Tong: “I’ll go get the clothes from the production team right now!”
While Zhou Tong went to get the costumes, Shen Xiu led the remaining seven team members in making props.
When Shen Xiu was drawing, he had considered the possibility that others might not understand, so he broke down the props into step-by-step diagrams. It was super easy to follow.
While painting a chair in his hands, Xia Wenhao glanced at the other groups, who were all busy working on their team stuff. He couldn’t help but think—while other groups were already splitting up their parts, no one would ever guess their group was… doing arts and crafts.
Xia Wenhao: …This is surreal.
After all, no one ever told him that being in a boy group survival show involved handicrafts.
Aside from Shen Xiu, the rest of the eight trainees had probably never imagined this kind of stage performance prep either.
They all exchanged knowing looks. Without saying a word, the same thought popped into everyone’s mind:
This guy’s mind is like a needle at the bottom of the sea—impossible to read, totally unreadable!
Thanks to Shen Xiu’s detailed, step-by-step blueprints, and after nearly an entire afternoon of effort from all nine of them, they finally wrapped up their hard day’s… er, not practice—craft class—by 5:30 PM.
Looking at the results of their teamwork, Shen Xiu stuck to his plan and informed everyone about tomorrow’s schedule:
“Good work today. Tomorrow, we meet here at 9 AM sharp to assign parts and start rehearsing.”
Everyone froze.
We’re… not going to discuss how to split the parts?
Seeing Shen Xiu’s deadpan expression, no one really had the guts to speak up.
Then again, once they remembered the song they’d be working on—Blood Romance—everyone’s faces turned pale.
For a song like that, no matter what part you get, it’s basically a one-way ticket to social death. Whether they discussed it or not… didn’t make much difference.
After Shen Xiu finished speaking and was met with total silence, he started to feel a little uneasy. He instinctively pressed his lips together and looked around at his group members.
It wasn’t his first time being a team leader. Back in college, they often had group filming assignments, and the teacher always liked picking him as the group lead. And every time, after he laid out the plan, his teammates would have the exact same reaction.
Team members: “…”
Why was he suddenly giving them that cold, frosty stare?
Was he unhappy that they weren’t sharing their personal thoughts?
But… the moment they saw Blood Romance, all they felt was secondhand embarrassment so intense their very souls wanted to ascend on the spot. There really weren’t any extra thoughts in their heads!
Everyone glanced around at each other, inwardly crying.
Expecting them to express opinions about Blood Romance… that was just cruel!
A few seconds passed, still no one said a word. Shen Xiu grew more anxious, his throat dry as he finally asked, “Does anyone have any questions?”
Everyone shook their heads like rattles.
“No, no.”
“We’re good. We’ll just follow your lead!”
“Yes, yes, absolutely!”
In short: please don’t ask us anything about Blood Romance!
Shen Xiu: “……”
This was just like his past group projects. The responses weren’t just similar—they were the same lines.
“…Dismissed.”
Since no one had anything to say, he might as well stick with the plan he’d already worked out.
The moment they heard the word dismissed, and saw Shen Xiu’s tightly pressed lips and the slight chill in his expression, the group could clearly feel the drop in temperature around him—Shen Xiu had entered low-pressure mode.
No one had managed to say a single useful thing about Blood Romance, and now the full weight of saving that performance had been dumped on Shen Xiu’s shoulders. Everyone felt a little guilty.
When Shen Xiu said “dismissed,” no one dared to ask why he was still lingering in the classroom. Out of pure awkwardness and respect for the pressure radiating off him, they simply said goodbye and left.
Outside the room, Xia Wenhao turned to Xiang Yueting and asked, “We really just left like that. Do you think Shen Xiu might actually ditch us tomorrow?”
Xiang Yueting: “I don’t think so… Shen Xiu seems like a pretty chill guy.”
He sighed too. “It’s not that I didn’t want to say anything, it’s just… when it comes to Blood Romance, I honestly have no thoughts at all.”
Jiang Yuheng let out a sigh: “Who doesn’t feel the same?”
Ke Zi’an added, “Shen Xiu looked really mad just now. When he goes cold, it’s kind of terrifying.”
Ying Zi’ang bit his lip. “I feel so dumb. I racked my brain but couldn’t think of a single thing to say.”
The whole team agreed in unison: “Exactly!”
They’d really tried their best to show just a tiny bit of understanding for Shen Xiu. Please don’t blame them for being clueless—they’re still counting on him to lead them back to the top!
Meanwhile, fans who had been loitering in the hallway for ages finally saw members of Shen Xiu’s team come out. Hearing their conversation, they were completely confused.
[Uh… why is everyone reacting like that? What are they even talking about? Did they have a fight or something?]
[From the sound of it, Boss Shen seems to be mad.]
[Everyone’s already left, but Shen Xiu’s still inside. He’s probably really pissed. I’m calling it now—they probably ran into issues during the part assignment. Maybe people weren’t happy with what they got and started arguing?]
[Very likely. Over in Shang Yu’s team and Lu Fei’s team, the members straight-up got into a shouting match. They almost threw hands before the captains stepped in and made them battle for the parts. When it comes to individual stage benefits, who doesn’t want more lines and more camera time?]
…
6:00 PM.
Zhuang Yi glanced at the time on the wall.
“Alright, that’s it for today’s practice. We’ll start again tomorrow morning at 9 sharp.”
He wasn’t too familiar with his team members yet, so he didn’t dare set an earlier time for fear of upsetting anyone. If anyone did want to come in early to practice, he’d be there too.
“Got it!” everyone responded enthusiastically, and the team quickly disbanded.
As the team leader, Zhuang Yi stayed behind to tidy up the room. Lin Jiashi was off in a corner, busying himself with something quietly, and ended up leaving the practice room together with Zhuang Yi.
After spending the day together, Zhuang Yi realized that Lin Jiashi was a quick learner. You barely had to explain anything—he just got it. He was so sharp that Zhuang Yi honestly couldn’t understand why he’d ended up in Class F.
The two of them chatted as they walked, deciding to head to the cafeteria together. But before they got far, Lin Jiashi suddenly stopped and looked at Zhuang Yi apologetically.
“Sorry, Brother Zhuang, I just remembered something I need to take care of. I can’t go to dinner with you after all. You go ahead.”
Zhuang Yi nodded. “Alright then. I’ll go on ahead.”
“Mm, bye-bye.”
As Zhuang Yi walked away, Lin Jiashi’s mind replayed everything the others had said after returning from Shen Xiu’s team. With a turn of his heel, he headed toward Shen Xiu’s practice room.
Since all the live streams inside the practice rooms had ended, the viewers had shifted to staking out the hallway cams, waiting to catch glimpses of their favorite trainees.
When fans saw the direction Lin Jiashi was heading, those who liked him weren’t too happy.
[Sweetie… are you walking in the wrong direction?]
[Be good, don’t do anything reckless. Turn around. Don’t go over there—that’s where the weird guy is.]
Meanwhile, fans watching the hallway outside Shen Xiu’s team room weren’t thrilled either.
[Ugh, not this guy again. Doesn’t he feel even slightly embarrassed?]
[Seriously speechless. That time he confronted Shen Xiu was already weird enough. What does he want this time?]
[Damn it, everyone else already left. Shen Xiu’s in there alone and clearly pissed. If Lin Jiashi goes in and starts something, we won’t even be able to see it. What if Shen Xiu gets misunderstood again?]
[Also, it’s been half an hour since Shen Xiu’s team disbanded, and he still hasn’t come out. What happened in there to make him stay mad for this long?]
[Lin Jiashi actually saw what’s going on inside before we did… I’m so jealous, sob sob sob]
Amidst the viewers’ collective wails of envy, Lin Jiashi arrived outside Shen Xiu’s practice room.
He raised his hand and knocked.
Knock knock knock…
Inside, Shen Xiu—still stewing from earlier—was holding a piece of chalk, comparing notes with the stage layout diagram he’d gotten from his site visit. He was drawing out performance boundaries directly on the floor.
Hearing the knock, Shen Xiu immediately tensed up and glanced at the doorknob. Thankfully, he remembered he’d locked the door right after the rest of his team had left. He let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Knock knock knock…
The knocking continued, but the person outside didn’t say a word. Shen Xiu frowned and glanced at the clock on the wall. Six o’clock. Everyone should be eating by now—who would come here at this time?
He put down the chalk and wiped his hands clean, then scanned the room, eyes sweeping over all the props he’d carefully arranged after everyone left.
Whoever was outside—they absolutely could not see any of this. These props were enough to make people give their team a seriously weird look.
Whether the whole team would end up totally embarrassed depended on him now!
Shen Xiu walked to the door, took a deep breath, and click—unlocked it, then turned the knob.
The moment the door cracked open, he slipped out like a flash.
His movements were so quick, Lin Jiashi didn’t even get a single glimpse of the inside of the room.
Shen Xiu stood outside, his eyes cold as he looked down at him. Lin Jiashi suddenly felt his throat go dry and swallowed nervously.
When Shen Xiu saw who it was, his brows instinctively furrowed—memories of that hallway incident surfacing instantly.
“What do you want?” he asked coolly.
