Chapter 37.2: Second Group Assessment
Shang Yu, who sat next to Shen Xiu, had been curious all along—every time it came to the scoring part, Shen Xiu’s pen would fly across the page like lightning. What exactly was he writing?
As soon as it ended, Shang Yu turned to Shen Xiu. “Can I—”
Before he could finish his sentence, Xue Yi stood up from the multimedia podium. “Alright, looks like everyone’s done. Hand in your scoring notebooks to me.”
Shang Yu could only give up.
[That familiar flavor, that familiar formula—the production team is still the same old crew. Their suspense game is top-tier. If they keep teasing us like this, they’re gonna get mobbed by us sooner or later (licks knife menacingly) —hiss— (cut my tongue) ouch ouch ouch]
[So… why doesn’t the production team zoom in and show us what scores everyone gave?]
[Exactly! We’re premium VIPs here—what can’t we see?!]
After staring in full concentration all afternoon, they were finally done. Once he handed in his notebook, Xiang Yueting leaned against the wall, looking utterly defeated.
“I feel like my brain’s turned to mush!”
Song Chengwang let out a sigh. “Who doesn’t?”
Shang Yu raised a hand to rub his aching temples. He was so exhausted his head hurt. “I hope this is the last time.”
Hearing the three of them, Shen Xiu was nodding like crazy in agreement—in his mind.
Physically, he didn’t feel much, but after focusing so intensely for hours without daring to let his attention slip even a little, his brain was buzzing in pain. He didn’t even want to speak.
But… these guys still have the energy to talk?
Shen Xiu: Impressive!
After venting, the three turned to look at Shen Xiu when they didn’t hear a peep from him.
Just as Shen Xiu was mentally admiring their energy, he suddenly noticed all three pairs of eyes fixed on him.
Shen Xiu: “?”
Was this… an invitation to join in the conversation?
Were they worried he might feel left out, so they wanted to include him?
They’re so nice!
Shen Xiu was deeply touched, but he honestly didn’t know what to say. Nervously, he blurted out, “Yeah, tired!”
The three: “……”
‘He said he was tired with a straight face and a cold voice? That was not convincing at all.’
‘He’s totally brushing us off, right? Definitely!’
Well, it made sense. Shen Xiu was the Overachiever King—the man who single-handedly outperformed a hundred trainees. How could he possibly be tired?
Song Chengwang: “Guess I haven’t been spending enough time at the gym.”
Shang Yu: “Gym training just isn’t enough. Morning runs—it really is all about sticking with them.”
Xiang Yueting: “Then I’ll… join you guys?”
One day, they would be like Shen Xiu too—with stamina so strong they’d be unstoppable robots who never felt fatigue!
Shen Xiu: “!”
‘Help, help—they’re terrifying!’
*
Xue Yi skimmed through the four notebooks and gave a soft chuckle. He looked up at them and said, “Nicely done. Now it’s time for your own vocal and dance evaluations. I’ll be scoring this round.”
Xue Yi’s gaze swept across the four of them. “Who wants to go first?”
Xiang Yueting shot his hand up immediately. “Me! Me! Me!”
He was already exhausted and didn’t want Shen Xiu to go before him. He was worried that if he watched Shen Xiu’s flawless performance first, the pressure would mess him up.
Song Chengwang lazily raised a hand. “I’ll go second.”
Shang Yu spoke up. “I’ll go third.”
Shen Xiu: “…Fourth.”
Everyone else’s mouths moved too fast. He hesitated for just a moment and naturally ended up in last place!
The three turned to Shen Xiu with grateful expressions. They loved how Shen Xiu was so overwhelmingly strong that he didn’t bother fighting for position.
Shen Xiu: “…”
He really didn’t understand—why were they looking at him again?
[LOL, you can feel the gratitude they have for Shen Xiu even through the screen.]
[Exactly. Boss Shen is just too strong—he doesn’t care what the others score before him. He’s fearless.]
[“You be strong all you want, Eastern Emperor shall—” cough, oops, wrong script.]
[This is hilarious. If they end up on the same team, there’s no such thing as someone dragging others down.]
At 7 PM, the last trainee—Shen Xiu—finished his assessment.
As everyone expected, Shen Xiu’s final performance was flawless. Regardless of what scores he gave to others, no one questioned his professional skill.
Xue Yi finished writing in his notebook, then looked up at the group of nervous trainees waiting anxiously to hear the results of their training assessments.
“Don’t wait around. The training assessment scores will be announced tomorrow at 9 a.m. on the 10th floor.”
The trainees: “……”
Can’t he just tell them straight up already?! So cruel!
—
The Next Day.
Even though everyone knew Xue Yi wouldn’t show up in the practice room until exactly 9 a.m., they couldn’t help arriving early.
Just like during an exam—everyone knows it starts at a set time, yet they still show up ahead of schedule.
At exactly 9 a.m., Xue Yi stepped into the practice room right on time.
Seeing the group of trainees who had clearly been waiting eagerly, Xue Yi chuckled. “Looks like you’re all really looking forward to your assessment scores.”
The trainees were screaming obviously in their heads, but no one dared say it aloud. Not to Poison-Tongue Xue.
“Before we announce the results,” he continued, “please turn your attention to the big screen.”
The trainees: “?”
Audience: [What’s going on?]
The massive screen lit up, revealing an enlarged image.
The resolution was excellent—every character on the image was crisp and easy to read.
The handwriting on the image was sharp and elegant, not a single stroke sloppy. It was a beautiful, neat script.
More importantly, next to each trainee’s name was not only a score but also a lengthy explanation.
Why each trainee received their particular score, what mistakes cost them points, what outstanding moments earned them extra credit, and even how they could improve—it was all written out clearly and thoroughly.
The trainees were shocked, and at the same time, they heard Xue Yi explain:
“This is a page from Shen Xiu’s scoring notebook for the vocal group.”
Shen Xiu: “……”
‘You didn’t tell me you were going to show that to everyone, Teacher Xue!!’
Seeing the long-winded paragraphs following each of his scores, Shen Xiu felt like he couldn’t breathe.
‘Please don’t think I’m naggy!’ he silently begged.
Yes, Shen Xiu had a hard time expressing his thoughts out loud—but give him a pen, and he could articulate anything with absolute clarity. He loved putting everything down in writing. And once he started, he just couldn’t stop.
He would forever love the humanities!
The image on the screen continued to scroll.
“This is the vocal group page from Shang Yu’s notebook.”
Shang Yu, raised with a habit of being concise, disliked rambling. After each score, he simply noted the key mistakes—short and to the point.
“This is Song Chengwang’s notebook for the dance group.”
His handwriting was so messy and wild that even though the picture was clear and enlarged, most people still couldn’t make out the characters.
Looking at his own writing, Song Chengwang had a mini existential crisis.
‘If only I had known the teacher was going to display it, I would’ve written more neatly!
Damn it—he couldn’t even recognize some of his own characters now.’
“This is the page from Xiang Yueting’s notebook.”
Song Chengwang burst out laughing when he saw Xiang Yueting’s handwriting—it looked like a kid’s.
Xiang’s handwriting wasn’t cool at all. It was the kind of writing anyone could easily read—unlike Shen Xiu’s sharp strokes, Shang Yu’s tidy print, or Song Chengwang’s wild illegibility.
It was plain, small, and somehow had a slightly childish, cute feel to it.
Xiang Yueting’s face turned red. “At least you can read mine!”
Xue Yi spoke up: “Now that you’ve seen the evaluations from all four of them, do you think their scoring was fair?”
Since every score clearly pointed out deductions and bonus points, the trainees were thoroughly convinced and responded in unison: “Fair!”
At the same time, they couldn’t help thinking of Shen Xiu’s long paragraphs, and a memory surfaced in their minds—of a past AI evaluation system.
No, Shen Xiu was even more meticulous than the AI evaluations—he didn’t just list out the mistakes, he also explained how to correct them.
As expected of Shen Xiu—not only was he incredibly capable, but he never forgot to help others.
No… more accurately, Shen Xiu gave equal help to every hardworking and determined trainee.
Shen Xiu wasn’t just strong—he was the kind of strong that earned their admiration, not resentment.
“Teacher Xue, can we keep these images available on the multimedia system?”
“Leave them up!”
“Every one of them has a different scoring focus—none of this should be deleted!”
These score sheets weren’t just evaluations—they were personalized guidance from debut-level elites. Of course they should be treasured!
Looking at the densely packed writing, Shang Yu finally understood why Shen Xiu’s pen had always been flying across the page.
Shen Xiu is just… genuinely a good person.
Someone like him—so pure in his intentions—would shine no matter where he ended up, as long as he stayed true to himself.
Shang Yu found himself more and more determined to bring Shen Xiu into his own company.
[Everyone at debut-level is taking things so seriously, and even the trainees who haven’t debuted yet are working hard. Why is this suddenly so touching?!]
[Told you—Cool Guy Shen might look aloof and edgy, but he’s got a good heart. He’s seriously such a great person.]
[I love this kind of strong character—the kind who helps others grow while climbing higher himself.]
Xue Yi said, “Of course, no problem. It won’t be deleted—you can access it anytime if you want to review it.”
Shen Xiu: …It’s going to stay up there? Like a permanent public display of my overly detailed evaluations?!
Unable to change the situation, Shen Xiu could only find comfort in one thought: At least… at least they’re all in this with me!
Xue Yi continued, “Next, we’ll look at the scores given by the four mentors.”
The trainees were stunned the moment they heard that.
Seeing their shocked expressions, Xue Yi added, “Didn’t expect that, did you? During your assessment, all your mentors were watching through the live feed and gave you individual scores.”
Trainees: “……”
Who would’ve guessed that?!
The production team never failed to shatter their expectations.
Next, Xue Yi displayed the mentors’ scoring sheets.
Unlike Shen Xiu, Shang Yu, Song Chengwang, and Xiang Yueting, who wrote detailed feedback, the mentors only gave a single score—no notes or explanations.
Then, Xue Yi asked the room, “So, who do you think the final vocal and dance scores will be based on?”
“Uh… the mentors?”
“Maybe… a combination?”
Xue Yi nodded toward the trainee who said “combination.”
“Smart.”
“That’s right—the final scores will be a composite of the four trainees’ and the four mentors’ ratings.”
With that, Xue Yi revealed the full ranking list of the three-part intensive training assessment.
“These are your scores. Take a look.”
Thanks to the transparency in how everything was explained, the trainees fully accepted the final results of the assessment.
No one was questioning fairness anymore—they eagerly turned their eyes to the screen, scanning for their names.
And naturally, Shen Xiu’s name, sitting firmly at the very top, was the first everyone noticed as they scrolled down in search of their own.
[No doubt about it—that’s my Brother Xiu! Forever #1!]
[Of course! His performance was AI-level flawless. If he wasn’t ranked first, we’d riot!]
[Xiang Yueting, omg, he’s hilarious—his original song totally dragged him down to 8th place.]
Xiang Yueting looked at his own vocal composition score and honestly felt like crying.
“Wuwuwu… if I had even the tiniest bit of songwriting talent, I wouldn’t have flopped this hard!”
After going through the rankings, the trainees began whispering among themselves.
“I can’t speak for others, but if Shen Xiu doesn’t debut, it’s basically a crime against humanity.”
“Even if he gets eliminated, I’ll be cheering for him from outside the show!”
“But… what was the point of the intensive assessment, anyway?”
“Oh, yeah. True.”
One trainee raised their hand and asked Xue Yi, “Teacher Xue, what’s the purpose of this assessment?”
“Yeah—does this score actually do anything?”
Xue Yi, who had just given everyone five minutes to review the rankings, heard the question right on cue and smiled as he explained:
“Of course it matters. The center position and team captain roles for the second performance stage will be determined based on your total scores from this assessment.”
“Let’s all congratulate the top eight: Shen Xiu, Shang Yu, Song Chengwang, Zhuang Yi, Ning Sinian, Jiang Yanxi, Mu Zhenchu, and Xiang Yueting—these eight will serve as center and captain for the second performance’s eight teams.”
“In the second performance, the eight centers and captains will each lead a team of nine, divided into four match-ups for team battles.”
Wait a minute… something felt off.
Shen Xiu glanced at the six previously eliminated trainees who had been brought back as “auditing members.”
He saw the unease on their faces—an expression he knew all too well. It was the same uncomfortable, awkward look his parents used to wear when the village chief would deliberately ignore them.
That same pang of sympathy rose in his chest.
Unable to hold it in, Shen Xiu asked, “What about them?”
Xue Yi looked at him and raised an eyebrow.
“You want them? They’re all yours—do you want to take them?”
