Chapter 42.2: Preparation for the Second Performance (5)
The assistant director, who’d pulled off this little stunt, noticed that the barrage of complaints wasn’t nearly as bad as expected. He sighed, thinking to himself that maybe he really was too old to understand what young people liked these days. Turns out Director Shi’s idea of censoring with a cat face had landed right in the audience’s heart.
Who could’ve seen that coming?
——
At 7 PM, Song Junying and the others finished their respective tasks—arranging the music and choreographing the dance—and handed it over to Shen Xiu for review.
Shen Xiu closed his notebook, then put on his headphones to first listen to the arrangements done by Ye Cheng and Gao Yongshi. After that, he watched the choreography videos from Zhao Mingwei and Song Junying.
No matter how many times they shared the same space with Shen Xiu, the group couldn’t help but feel nervous around him.
Especially when waiting for his “approval”—the anxiety hit an all-time high.
It felt exactly like waiting for a teacher to grade your test right in front of you in class—no, not just like that. It was identical.
Amid the tense silence, Shen Xiu finally finished reviewing both the audio and the video submissions.
“Brother Shen, what do you think?”
“If there’s anything wrong, just tell us—we can take it.”
“Yeah, really, we can handle it.”
The four of them waited anxiously for his verdict. Their rankings during the intensive training assessments weren’t particularly high—not compared to top scorers like Xia Wenhao or Ke Zi’an.
Before Shen Xiu had assigned them these tasks, they’d assumed they wouldn’t be trusted with anything major in his team. But things hadn’t gone at all the way they’d expected.
The group was happy—but also feeling the pressure.
They were afraid they wouldn’t do well enough and would end up letting Shen Xiu down.
Shen Xiu: “……”
They might seem enthusiastic and proactive on the surface… but honestly, it was probably just an act. Deep down, they were all probably just like him.
In that case, he was really lucky to have ended up with them.
Shen Xiu didn’t say anything right after watching the video—he simply stared at them with a calm expression, which made Zhao Mingwei and the others even more anxious.
Crap. Was there some major issue?
Shen Xiu snapped out of his thoughts and silently organized his words before finally speaking seriously: “You all did very well. There are only some minor issues. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Phew… they were this close to being scared to death! They really thought something had gone terribly wrong!
Whether Shen Xiu meant it or not, just hearing him say that made them feel genuinely happy, and a sense of relief appeared on their faces.
Glancing at his teammates, Shen Xiu added sincerely, “You’ve all worked hard today—go have dinner.”
He felt awkward staying there with them watching him.
“Tomorrow morning, meet here at nine sharp.”
Every time Shen Xiu was in charge—whether at school or here—he’d always remind people of the meeting time at the end, even if he didn’t like talking much. He was worried he might miss informing someone and they wouldn’t wake up in time.
“Got it, Brother Shen!”
“Thanks for all your hard work, Brother Shen!”
“See you tomorrow, Brother Shen!”
Shen Xiu nodded. “See you.”
Soon, he was the only one left in the practice room. He stared at the closed door, lost in thought.
The program hadn’t given them much time to prepare for the second performance. Since most of the teams probably started late like his group did, dinner time now would definitely mean long lines.
He’d have to wait until eight to go to the cafeteria!
With his mealtime decided, Shen Xiu put his headphones back on, opened his notebook, and once again pulled up the arrangement.
As he listened, he jotted down notes about which parts needed to be supplemented or which sections might benefit from switching instruments—anything that would help bring out the emotional peak of the song.
[Why did Brother Shen stare at the door for a whole minute after the others left? Was there some deeper meaning?]
[Isn’t it obvious? Just look at that deep, brooding gaze and Brother Shen’s ultimate overachiever energy—his brain is probably constantly in high gear. In that one minute, I bet he was already mapping out how to fine-tune Zhao Mingwei and the others’ arrangement and choreography.]
[Right! First they hand in the ‘homework’, and of course the next step is grading the ‘homework’. Your analysis makes so much sense!]
[Of course! I’m a straight-A student when it comes to Shen Studies—no one knows Shen Xiu better than I do!]
[Sisters, aren’t you even a little curious what the finished choreography video looks like with all those cat-head mosaics?]
[Of course I’m curious! This is the first time I’ve seen every trainee in the practice room censored with cat heads—it’s insane!]
[What’s even crazier is that the show’s new way of blurring faces actually made it to the trending topics. Tons of gossip-loving netizens are cracking up over it.]
[The production team would rather spend loads of time adding those goofy cat-head animations to the livestream than risk leaking a glimpse of the second public performance. Honestly, I’m dying here!]
To avoid spoilers for the second group performance, the show blurred out anything related using cat-head stickers.
To make it more appealing, the cat heads used were from the popular “fruit cats” meme that netizens were loving lately.
Viewers watching the livestream saw fruit-cat heads jumping around the screen—it was goofy and hilarious.
Complain?
They couldn’t bear to! Not even a little!
The production team had the audience wrapped around their finger.
…
At 8 PM, Shen Xiu finished revising half of his arrangement, closed his laptop, and locked the practice room before heading to the cafeteria for dinner.
Half an hour later, Shen Xiu reappeared on the livestream.
He had no idea the production team had censored the footage. While eating dinner, he decided that he’d work on the choreography before the cameras turned off at 10 PM.
Under the watchful eyes of countless viewers, he began awkwardly testing out movements without any background music—dry, disconnected moves that lacked flow or grace.
Just thinking about it made Shen Xiu want to curl up in embarrassment.
For the sake of the viewers’ eyes—and to save what little dignity he had left—Shen Xiu decided he’d only work on the choreography after the livestream cameras shut off at 10.
Time always flies when you’re focused and busy. At 10 PM, Shen Xiu looked up and glanced at the camera.
In the practice room, the camera—which shut off three seconds late—captured one final shot: Shen Xiu suddenly looking directly at it.
[An Easter egg?! This has to be an Easter egg!]
[Damn, that look in Xiu Xiu’s eyes—so sharp! Like a killer suddenly locking eyes with the camera!]
[After a whole day of watching cat-heads, seeing this at the end is honestly so satisfying!]
[Ahem, for those who were too slow and are still wailing, I, your quick-fingered savior, have already screenshotted it and posted it to my homepage. Help yourselves, sisters~]
[Aaaaah I love you, mwah mwah, big hug and kiss!]
Shen Xiu had no idea that just one glance at the camera had already been turned into a GIF by lightning-fast netizens.
Back in the practice room, he projected the choreography videos from Song Junying and Zhao Mingwei onto the big screen. After stretching and warming up, he began mimicking the moves from the videos.
Every time a movement felt off, Shen Xiu would pause, jot down notes, and reflect on how to improve or adjust it…
——
Never underestimate the gossip-hunting powers of online bystanders during late-night hours—especially on a Saturday.
After a busy week, internet users were prowling every corner of social media, hungry for fresh gossip and drama.
Within just half an hour of being posted, the high-res GIF of Shen Xiu looking up at the camera, enhanced by a flurry of likes and comments, shot straight to the trending topics.
Ever since Shen Xiu joined the talent show Youth Unstoppable, he’d been a frequent flyer on the trending charts. Gossip-hungry netizens were more than familiar with his name by now.
Those who had missed the livestream saw the fresh new screenshot and couldn’t help but leave comments, full of curiosity and speculation.
[Is this a sneak peek from Boss Shen’s latest commercial shoot? A suspense-themed ad maybe?]
[Probably! I’m guessing this time, Boss Shen is definitely playing a cold, emotionless killer in the ad!]
[Or maybe a secret agent on a mission! The storyline has to be like this: Agent Shen, while carrying out a task, suddenly locks eyes with someone spying on him through the surveillance camera. That icy, penetrating gaze shoots right through the lens and scares the watcher half to death!]
[Ahem… is there a chance this is just a screenshot from the last second before the livestream shut off?]
[Impossible. Absolutely impossible!]
[I don’t care! With a glare that intense and murderous, this has to be Killer Shen or Agent Shen, no doubt about it!]
——
The next day.
After seeing the revised arrangement and choreography that Shen Xiu had put together, the members of Shen Xiu’s team were once again filled with admiration.
The track alone was amazing, and the choreography—not only did it stay true to their original concept, but the changes made it even cooler and more explosive.
Still… none of them wanted Shen Xiu to think they were too easily impressed, so instead of gasping or cheering wildly, they all did their best to contain their excitement and looked at him with a composed expression.
They thought they were being subtle—but to Shen Xiu, their gazes felt intense to the point of being terrifying: “…Why is everyone looking at me like that first thing in the morning?”
Trying to escape the searing stares that made him want to crawl under the table and hide, Shen Xiu quickly changed the subject.
“These are the parts I’ve divided up. Take a look, and if there are no issues, we’ll start rehearsing right away.”
Xia Wenhao glanced at his assigned part and thought, ‘Yep, Shen Xiu is still Shen Xiu—quietly taking care of everything behind the scenes like always.’
In truth, they had all completely forgotten about the part distribution.
Zhao Mingwei furrowed his brows slightly as he looked at the section assigned to him on the sheet. His gaze shifted to Shen Xiu, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, as if he wanted to say something but held back.
Shen Xiu, who was always keenly aware of others’ expressions, found it impossible to ignore. He looked directly at Zhao Mingwei and asked:
“Something wrong?”
