Chapter 48.1: Second Performance (3)
The moment Shen Xiu yanked out the power plug, the screen in front of them instantly plunged into darkness.
The staff member froze in shock: Huh… you can do that?
He had truly never seen anything like this!
Feeling a little guilty, Shen Xiu explained, “I didn’t turn it off — I just pulled the plug. No one said you couldn’t unplug it…”
Sorry, but his teammates really couldn’t keep watching anymore, so he had no choice but to lightly exploit a loophole in the show’s rules.
Hearing Shen Xiu’s calm explanation, the staff’s mind short-circuited for a moment.
It kind of made sense… but at the same time, something about it felt really off?
When the audience watching the live barrage saw Shen Xiu’s move, there was a brief moment of stunned silence — then the entire screen flooded with laughter.
[Pulling the plug? Hahaha, I truly never expected that!]
[As expected of you, my Xiu Xiu, you’re absolutely brilliant!]
[The staff’s confused expression — they probably didn’t even know how to react hahaha]
The assistant director, who had been closely monitoring Shen Xiu, immediately rushed to Shen Xiu’s practice room when he saw what happened: “We are now adding an urgent new rule: trainees are not allowed to shut down the player or unplug any power cords!”
Shen Xiu: “…”
You can do that?
“Alright,” Shen Xiu agreed obediently when he saw the program team laying down the rule, and he dutifully plugged the cord back in.
[This feels so familiar. Is Xiu Xiu getting sanctioned by the show again? I still remember last time he got punished because he kept winning the ‘King of Popularity’ award every time, and the show ended up banning him from competing altogether hahaha]
[Shen ‘Cold but obedient’ Xiu.jpg]
Although the assistant director saw that Shen Xiu had complied, he still didn’t feel fully reassured.
“You really won’t pull it out again, right?”
Shen Xiu: “I won’t.”
The assistant director stared hard at Shen Xiu’s face. Shen Xiu’s expression remained cool and unreadable, leaving no clues. Left with no other choice, the assistant director could only trust him: “Alright then.”
After the assistant director finished speaking, he didn’t immediately leave. Shen Xiu pondered for a moment, thinking that perhaps it was because he hadn’t properly responded, so he opened his mouth and said, “Mm, goodbye.”
Assistant Director: “…”
Alright then — that was clearly a dismissal.
“Goodbye.”
Since Shen Xiu had promised not to pull the plug again and didn’t seem like he was trying to fool him, the assistant director didn’t linger. He said goodbye and quickly left.
After the assistant director and the staff exited Shen Xiu’s team’s room, Shen Xiu closed the door and turned the lock.
If unplugging the cord already summoned the assistant director, wouldn’t pulling another stunt next time bring the main director himself? The main director was even worse to deal with — Shen Xiu was honestly terrified of the program crew.
Better safe than sorry — lock the door!
Click, clack…
The sound of the door bolt sliding into place echoed in the now quiet room. Anyone with eyes could tell from Shen Xiu’s actions that he had locked the door from the inside.
[……66666]
[The Great Demon King Xiu: Sanctioned? No problem, I’ll just lock the door.]
[Cold-Hearted Xiu: Can’t pull the plug? No worries, I can lock the room.]
The team members: You can do that too?! Captain Xiu is invincible!
After locking the door, Shen Xiu turned around and found all his teammates staring at him in unison — the way they looked at him, it was like they were looking at some rare oddity.
Thinking about what he had just done, Shen Xiu paused for a few seconds and had to admit…
Yeah, that was pretty weird.
In an effort to salvage a tiny bit of his dignity, Shen Xiu dryly tried to explain, “The program crew is just too…”
Before he could finish, he was interrupted by his teammates: “Captain Xiu, say no more, we get it!”
It must be that the program crew was just shameless — randomly adding new rules to target their captain.
Captain Xiu’s counterattack? Absolutely justified!
With a simple move like locking the door, he completely shut down any possibility of the program crew adding even more rules.
Captain Xiu was brilliant!
Hearing his teammates say they understood him, Shen Xiu felt much more at ease: “We can’t break the program’s rules. So, everyone, please turn your chairs around and face the back wall — there’s no need to keep watching anymore.”
Shen Xiu was worried that later on, if everyone’s mentality completely collapsed, he wouldn’t even be able to pull them back.
The teammates’ thoughts:
So… is Captain Xiu implying that the previous performance was just as bad as theirs — not even worth watching?
And also, because their shocked expressions just now were too obvious, Captain Xiu thinks they embarrassed themselves, so he’s making them face the wall and reflect?
But… that last performance was actually really impressive, especially the ending — the shock and horror vibes suddenly surged!
And yet, for Captain Xiu, that kind of stage was only so-so…
Wuwuwu, no wonder he’s the Great Demon King Xiu. His standards are terrifyingly high!
If they made even the slightest mistake on stage later, the Great Demon King Xiu would probably kill them on the spot!
Thinking about Shen Xiu’s ice-cold, blade-sharp glare “killing” them on the spot, the team members didn’t even have time to think about Shang Yu’s performance anymore.
One by one, they obediently turned their chairs to face the back wall, trembling inside as they reflected on their actions.
Meanwhile, the assistant director had just returned to the main control center, only to be met by the staff’s hesitant, conflicted expressions.
Perplexed, he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Uh, assistant director, you should see it for yourself.”
The staff moved aside, letting him see the live feed from Shen Xiu’s team room.
The assistant director leaned in — and saw that the entire Shen Xiu team had turned their chairs around to face the wall.
The staff sighed and said, “Assistant director, that’s not even the main point. The real highlight is that right after you left, Shen Xiu immediately locked the door from the inside.”
Assistant Director: “…Incredible.”
—
Onstage, after fifteen minutes of preparation time, Mu Zhenchu’s team took the stage.
Their rap song, Someone Else’s Kid, wasn’t about technique — it was pure emotion.
The lyrics were playful and funny, filled with clowning around; there wasn’t a single word meant to elicit pity, yet every line sharply satirized the bizarre ways parents “encourage” their children.
In just three minutes of fast-paced rap, they unleashed all the resentment and frustration they had accumulated during childhood from their parents’ oppressive education methods — a cathartic, full-throttle outburst.
Because the rhythm was so fast, some of the members slurred their lyrics, making the words unclear.
Most of their movements were purely in service of the rap, very simple overall, and there was a noticeable lack of dance technique.
However, because most of the audience had experienced similar childhoods, the straightforward and relatable lyrics of Someone Else’s Kid hit a nerve, sharply dissing oppressive parenting styles — so the live atmosphere was still very lively and enthusiastic.
In contrast, in Shang Yu’s team’s performance of Puppeteer, Shang Yu’s smooth, fluid dance movements starkly contrasted with his teammates’ stiff, mechanical gestures.
The final ending especially left the audience stunned.
Both the overall stage effect and the twist at the end of Shang Yu’s team’s performance left a deep, shocking impression on the audience.
In the first round of team battles, after two rounds of audience voting, it came as no surprise — Shang Yu’s team with Puppeteer defeated Mu Zhenchu’s team’s Someone Else’s Kid, winning this group battle.
As for the individual ranking votes, the program crew scheduled them to be announced after the competition.
[By the way, if you think back to what Boss Shen said during the second performance training sessions, did anyone notice? Boss Shen’s predictions were completely spot-on! Shang Yu really did wear a silk robe — totally unexpected styling. Their song also leaned heavily into emotional territory: starting cheerful, then turning dark and creepy. And Mu Zhenchu’s team was indeed rap-focused, with simple body movements for dance.]
[Getting goosebumps — so before the second performance even started, Xiu Xiu had already seen through everyone’s plans. As expected of my Xiu Xiu!]
[Shang Yu’s puppets turning on humanity, mimicking human life inside a spooky puppet workshop, and turning humans into dolls — it was terrifying. I loved it.]
After the first group battle ended, it was quickly time for the second group battle.
Group A’s Xiang Yueting team took the stage with The Only King, a perfect fusion of rap and intense dancing — the dance was fiery, and they sang and danced non-stop for the full three minutes.
Whether it was their vocals or their movements, there wasn’t a moment’s pause.
During the chorus, they split into two groups for a fierce, beast-like, hysterical back-and-forth duel, as if they were about to break into an actual fight onstage.
Their stage presence was explosive yet steady.
At the final freeze-frame pose, Xiang Yueting tilted his body slightly, with one hand brushing his lower lip as he sat on a human “chair” formed by his teammates’ hands — the aura he projected was absolutely overwhelming.
Compared to The Only King, Group B’s Zhuang Yi team’s Black Cabin was much more subdued.
Their mechanical movements were like walking robots, and the stop-motion, stuttering performances resembled anti-gravity effects — it made the audience feel like someone had accidentally hit the “pause” button on a TV show.
[So intense, so hot — I was scared they might suffocate from not catching a breath.]
[Forget them, even I couldn’t breathe properly while watching — my adrenaline was off the charts!]
[Hmph, that mechanical dance was terrible. They looked like robots from a movie. We humans don’t move like that.]
[It was way too choppy, way too stiff. What’s wrong with the program team, making us watch a PowerPoint presentation?]
In the second round of group battles, the explosive stage of The Only King won over the audience’s hearts — Xiang Yueting’s team took the victory.
Then came the third group battle.
Song Chengwang’s team performed Rainy Night, a stage soaked with the damp, romantic atmosphere of post-rain air.
Shirts drenched by rain, black long-handled umbrellas spinning in the drizzle, the sharp tapping of leather shoes against the floor blending with the piano’s melody — it was elegant, yet carried an unmistakable, seductive charm.
The whole performance was brimming with sensual tension.
