Chapter 36.2: Second Group Training
Finally, the trainees survived long enough to reach the third day: songwriting class.
Clinging to the tiniest sliver of hope, they thought: Teacher He was intense, but the next three instructors… surely they’ll be nicer, right?
But the four days of songwriting and dance classes that followed made one thing very clear: Yeah, no. Keep dreaming.
Songwriting Class:
Ye Ning always delivered her savage critiques with a sweet smile:
“What is this you’ve written? Is it even comprehensible to humans?”
“Ah, while everyone else writes lyrics so heavenly they seem unreachable, you—why do you insist on doing the opposite and heading straight to the eighteenth level of hell?”
“This just won’t do, okay? Be good, listen to me—change it. You must change it. I’m worried that when you turn eighty, you’ll look back on these lyrics and cringe so hard you’ll dig a hole through your floor.”
Qin Xi was even more blunt:
“Wow, I must be too shallow—I’ve heard of chicken-scratch lyrics before, but I never imagined I’d come across sheet music possessed by actual ghosts.”
“Are you serious about this melody? Other people’s music is like hearing divine tunes, makes your ears tingle with joy. But yours? You trying to make our ears explode? Who hurt you?!”
Dance Class:
Zhao Jinning frowned and shook his head:
“Luo Yuan, what was that? Even the duck in my backyard walks better than you dance.”
“And you—what are you giggling about? Can’t even keep on beat, and you’re laughing? What did you even learn?”
“No, seriously, what are you flailing around for? Didn’t finish shaking the water out of your head before class and trying to do it now?”
“Just wondering—do your limbs all have their own separate agendas?”
As the trainees thought back to how optimistic they were at the beginning of boot camp, they could only feel the sting of irony—like they’d been slapped silly.
“Anyone but Xue Yi,” they’d said.
Now? None of them are okay.
The mentors were all demons. No—just skip straight to: the entire production team is demonic.
And of course, amidst all the soul-crushing critique, the mentors would occasionally shout out a familiar name—“Shen Xiu”—or, better yet, just call him straight up to the front to demonstrate again.
By the time they got to Zhao Jinning’s dance class, Zhao Jinning didn’t even bother anymore. He just had Shen Xiu lead from the front while he walked around the room correcting everyone else’s moves.
As for Shen Xiu, after being summoned and used as a human teaching prop for six days straight, he had only one conclusion:
‘Training camp was great. Never again, though. Never. Again.’
…
After six days of training, Yu Xiangwan, the host in charge of interviews, waited outside the practice room for an interview.
When she saw the mentors coming out, Yu Xiangwan handed over the microphone and asked, “May I ask the four mentors, after these days of intensive training, which trainee left the deepest impression on you?”
Without any prior discussion, all four of them answered in unison: “Shen Xiu.”
After they spoke, the four mentors exchanged glances, a mutual feeling of “of course it’s him” spreading among them.
Yu Xiangwan said with a smile, “Let me tell you a little secret: during these six days of teaching, the word you each said the most was also ‘Shen Xiu.’”
Qin Xi: “…Can’t help it. He’s just that good.”
Ye Ning: “Same here. He’s just too perfect as a teaching model.”
Zhao Jinning: “Honestly, I suspect he already studied everything we’re teaching before we even got here.”
He Youna: “That’s too modest. Shen Xiu didn’t just study it—he mastered it, okay?”
[Yes! I can totally back up what Mentor He Youna said!]
[Xiu Xiu always matches the mentors move for move, down to the tiniest detail—he’s clearly a pro.]
[No wonder Shen Xiu said training was ‘good’—he probably treated it like a review session!]
[Damn, I think you’ve cracked the code! Looks like my “Shen Studies” haven’t gone deep enough—I didn’t catch on to that level of meaning at all!]
[It’s over, sisters. Now all I can hear in my head are the mentors each yelling their different versions of “Shen Xiu” LOL]
…
After five and a half days of training, Shen Xiu came to a harsh realization: these four mentors were just as terrifying to learn from as Teacher Xue Yi!
On the morning of the seventh day, all 78 trainees were handed paper and pens, and entered the practice room one after another to find a seat.
The tables and chairs in the room had been arranged to look exactly like a regular classroom.
Seated and looking up at the words “Examination Room” behind Xue Yi at the front of the class, the trainees once again began to question the meaning of life.
Xue Yi: “Good morning, everyone. Judging by your faces, it looks like you’ve all had a great time these past few days.”
Trainees: “……”
Teacher Xue really had the nerve to say that with a straight face? These six days had them looking like they’d been through a war zone!
As if he didn’t notice their miserable expressions, Xue Yi continued, “At 9:10, you will begin your songwriting written exam. Based on the theme that will be displayed on the big screen, you’ll have two hours and fifty minutes to compose lyrics and music—length doesn’t matter, just stay on theme.”
“Please take this seriously. It will directly impact your fate in the second performance round.”
The trainees never imagined that after the grueling training, there would also be an exam. This program team… truly terrifying!
They wanted to wail in protest, but the moment they heard this would affect their second performance, tension immediately filled the room.
Shen Xiu, as usual, sat firmly in his favorite back-corner seat. The moment Xue Yi mentioned an exam, he felt a huge wave of relief.
He loved quietly sitting in his seat to take exams. It was so much simpler than having to perform in front of a crowd with either physical movement or vocal expression!
[The trainees probably never saw this exam coming, LOL]
[I’ve always been terrified of exams—big or small, they make my scalp tingle—but when I think about it as a test of basic skills for future idols, I suddenly feel like this is such a brilliant move by the show!]
[They haven’t even revealed the theme yet, but just seeing Boss Shen’s confident face—I know this one’s in the bag!]
[Exactly! Xiu Xiu’s that strong! So strong he doesn’t even care what questions the show throws at him—bring it on, program team!]
[Not gonna lie, I feel like idols should be tested like this. And acting too—spoken as someone who’s had their eyes scorched by certain overly hyped actors with zero talent.]
[Totally agree. They’ve been criticized for their bad acting for years and still haven’t improved. Just going around raking in money. With all that cash, they still won’t bother hiring a proper coach to hone their skills. So annoying.]
—
When the time was up, the staff quickly displayed the written test content for the songwriting assessment on the big screen.
The exam hall was completely silent.
Some trainees were deep in thought, some were scribbling furiously with their heads down, and some looked utterly distressed.
At noon, the songwriting test ended.
The staff collected the papers with the trainees’ names and placed them in front of Xue Yi.
Xue Yi said, “Don’t relax just yet. We still have vocal and dance assessments this afternoon.”
“Oh come on, this is way too hard!”
“No one ever told me being in a talent show was this tough!”
“Ahem, to be fair, we didn’t even have talent shows like this before.”
While the trainees were lamenting how difficult it was, Youth Unstoppable once again trended online due to the basic skills assessments for idols.
Netizens, long tormented by bad acting and half-hearted singing/dancing, jumped at the opportunity. Under the trending hashtag, they quietly tagged underqualified idols and entertainers, suggesting they should also go through professional assessments before continuing their careers.
The assistant director looked nervously at the trending page for #IdolArtistSkillAssessment, which had in just half an hour spiraled into an all-out fan war among the various top-tier fanbases.
Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. “Director Shi, should we spend money to take this off the trending list? If this keeps going, we’re gonna get shredded by all those ‘top idol’ fans.”
In the entertainment industry, it’s more or less an open secret that many artists’ acting or performance skills are “visible to fans only.”
Diehard fans won’t tolerate anyone criticizing their idols for slacking off—anyone who does gets instantly labeled a hater.
And now, this brand-new talent show team had the audacity to run a basic skills test? Fans from all directions were bound to storm the place.
“Why take it down? I think the regular viewers are totally right. If your money-making skills aren’t even up to par, what else are you doing but serving the audience garbage?”
“Heh, I’m not taking it down.”
As he spoke, Shi Buwen pulled out a small notebook he always carried with him and struck through a line with a heavy hand. “Destroy every freeloading slacker equally—complete!”
The assistant director saw that the cover of the black notebook was boldly emblazoned with two red words: “Revenge Notebook.”
“……”
This was the first time he’d seen someone actually keep a grudge journal.
No comment.
And then, to the assistant director’s horror, not only did Shi Buwen refuse to take the trending topic down, but after tucking away his “Revenge Notebook,” he logged into the show’s official account and started frantically liking posts on the hashtag’s plaza.
He even went out of his way to like sarcastic posts mocking Duan Mingfei.
Assistant Director: “……”
Maybe it’s better if I just go blind right now.
—
2:00 p.m.
Inside the dance assessment practice room.
As soon as Shen Xiu stepped into the room, his mind flashed back to the terrifying experience from a couple of days ago, where he’d constantly been called up to the front in the dance studio.
The last row clearly wasn’t safe anymore. Shen Xiu’s eyes darted around the room, searching for a more hidden spot where he could camouflage himself.
But after scanning the whole place, it was clear—nowhere was more inconspicuous than the last row.
And yet, even during training camp, he’d still been picked out from the back row!
Shen Xiu: …I’m doomed.
In the end, Shen Xiu resigned himself to fate and chose to stand in the last row.
He stood so far back—surely the instructor wouldn’t call him up first for the assessment, right?
Just as Shen Xiu finished settling in, Xue Yi walked into the room holding a stack of papers and two pens.
Xue Yi headed straight for the multimedia station at the front of the dance studio and sat down.
As soon as Shen Xiu saw him enter, he immediately lowered his head. The tension in his chest eased slightly.
No eye contact, no acknowledgment—
For now, looks like I’m saf …
At that moment, as soon as Xue Yi sat down, he spoke without even looking up: “Shen Xiu.”
The word “safe” hadn’t even finished forming in Shen Xiu’s mind when he jolted like he’d been shocked. He instinctively responded, “Here!”
As he answered, Shen Xiu felt like a panicked schoolkid waiting to be scolded—even though he was already a college student! Why was he still such a wimp?
Internally, Shen Xiu berated himself for being a coward.
But… he’d already gone out of his way to stand in the farthest corner of the last row. The teacher hadn’t made eye contact with him at all when entering—how did he still manage to get picked out?!
Shen Xiu was utterly baffled—and deeply shaken.
‘Are teachers psychic or something? Did I break some sacred rule without knowing it?’ he wondered.
Xue Yi, hearing Shen Xiu’s faint voice, finally looked up from the papers in front of him. He raised his head and waved toward Shen Xiu at the very back: “Come up here. I’ve got an important task for you.”
Standing beside Shen Xiu, Song Chengwang tilted his head and smiled: “This is Teacher Xue we’re talking about. What’s he going to make you do? Good luck!”
Xiang Yueting, who had been squeezed one spot away from Shen Xiu, grinned brightly: “Shen Xiu, you’re strong, sure—but this is Xue Yi! If he’s calling you up, you’re in trouble. Hahaha!”
Xue Yi added, “Song Chengwang, Shang Yu, Xiang Yueting—you three come up with Shen Xiu as well.”
Shang Yu: “?”
Wait a minute. He was sure he hadn’t even said a word!
So now… just standing next to Shen Xiu meant you’d get dragged up too?
