Chapter 56.2: Second Performance Training Situation
The next day.
The remaining 36 second-performance ranking trainees gathered in the 10th-floor practice room, waiting for Xue Yi to arrive.
At exactly 9:00 a.m., Xue Yi appeared before the trainees, right on time.
“Good morning, everyone.”
“Good morning, Teacher Xue~”
“Teacher Xue, it’s only been a few days—did you gain weight?”
“Don’t talk nonsense, Teacher Xue didn’t gain weight, he just… expanded! Hahaha.”
After several days of rest, the trainees were feeling relaxed and full of energy. Their fear of Xue Yi had eased quite a bit, and they were teasing him with smiles on their faces.
Sitting at the back behind the trainees, Shen Xiu listened to their cheerful greetings. His eyes, as he looked at the backs of their heads, held a touch of envy.
Xue Yi wasn’t upset by the teasing. Looking at the rows that were once filled with people and now were only about a third full, he could only sigh inwardly.
“It’s a bit hard getting used to how few people are left all of a sudden.”
“Maybe this is fate. Some people will be by your side for a long time, while others can only walk with you for part of the journey.”
Hearing Xue Yi’s words, the trainees were reminded of the friends they had once trained and struggled with—who had since gone their separate ways. The mood became heavy for a moment.
Realizing that his emotional words had dampened everyone’s spirits, Xue Yi quickly smiled and tried to shift their attention.
“Alright, alright, let’s pull our thoughts back. Now, let’s watch the behind-the-scenes training footage of each group’s second performance. Don’t you want to know what kind of intense training the other groups went through to achieve what you saw on stage?”
The trainees’ attention was instantly redirected.
“Yes!”
“Play it already—I can’t wait any longer!”
Everyone was eager to know what kind of conditions and thought processes led to the creation of each group’s distinctive stage performance.
Especially with Shen Xiu’s team—how was it that every glance they cast toward the audience, every move they made, could look so incredibly cool without ever seeming over-the-top or cringey?
In the past few days, some of them had tried to recreate Shen Xiu’s team’s stage in private.
Even when they knew their gazes were fierce and their movements stylish, and felt like they were absolutely killing it while dancing, the other trainees watching them were so put off they almost gagged from secondhand embarrassment.
Everyone was dying to know—what secret technique did Shen Xiu’s team use to eliminate the cringe?
The livestream audience was just as curious.
[Finally, enough of the cutesy “cat dance” performances from the other teams—we’re getting to the good stuff!]
[I need to know what exactly Boss Shen said to his team that helped them completely de-cringe overnight.]
[Also dying to know what kind of mental state Brother Shang’s team was in when they came up with such a bizarre stage concept~]
[No need to guess with Brother Wang—he’s always been a master flirt. We all know what he’s thinking~]
[Wait a second… I’ve realized something serious. We Xiu Scholars always prided ourselves on knowing Boss Shen better than anyone… but now, we don’t even know what he said to get the whole team to de-cringe?!]
[Xiuology… truly a lifelong journey of study.]
Amid all the eager anticipation, Xue Yi pulled out a USB stick, plugged it into the multimedia console, and spoke while searching for the video:
“We’ll be playing each group’s training footage in the order of the group battles.”
“Of course, these are edited versions.”
He then looked up at the camera arm in front of him and addressed the audience: “To all the viewers out there, don’t worry—the full versions will be released shortly on the official Youth Unstoppable Weibo account.”
“And to all the trainees who ranked in the second performance but have since left the stage—this is your final performance captured in Youth Unstoppable. We invite you to watch it along with everyone.”
The eliminated trainees felt a pang of emotion when they heard Xue Yi’s words. They hadn’t expected the usually sharp-tongued Xue Yi to still remember them, and their noses stung with emotion.
The first group’s training footage to be shown was Shang Yu’s team with their performance “The Puppeteer.” The moment the audience saw their rehearsal room setup, laughter erupted.
[I finally understand why Shang Yu’s team always had their room covered in cat-head emojis during training—turns out their rehearsal space looked just as creepy as their stage! The team’s training approach actually makes sense now.]
[No wonder they looked so gloomy and eerie on stage—if I had to train every day in a haunted house-looking room, I’d be depressed too.]
Next came Mu Zhenchu’s team and their performance “Other People’s Kids.” The only truly memorable part of their behind-the-scenes footage was the lyric-writing stage, where the members took turns venting their frustration about growing up constantly hearing their parents say, “Look at how good so-and-so’s kid is.”
The barrage of familiar, pressure-filled childhood memories once again struck a chord with viewers in the livestream comments.
Xiang Yueting’s team followed, with the footage for “The Only King.” It was pretty much what fans had imagined: non-stop energy, overflowing enthusiasm, and team members acting like they were constantly hyped up on caffeine—thanks to Xiang Yueting’s over-the-top motivational speeches.
What really stood out was the ritual his team performed every day before training: they would stand in the practice room and shout with absolute sincerity, “We are the best! Let the best version of us take on today’s best training!”
As this phrase echoed through the practice room in the video, all the other trainees turned their heads in unison to look at Xiang Yueting’s team.
The remaining members of that team, still active on stage, didn’t show the slightest hint of embarrassment. In fact, they stood tall with pride, clearly having inherited Xiang Yueting’s spirit.
[…In a way, when it comes to cringe, Xiang Yueting’s team really is the only king. No group can compete.]
[Why did that feel exactly like when I worked part-time at a hotpot restaurant during college? Our supervisor made us stand at the entrance morning and night yelling slogans—it was so awkward my toes were curling into the ground.]
[Wuwuwu… same experience here. It’s like my repressed memories just came back to haunt me.]
Zhuang Yi’s team’s behind-the-scenes footage for “The Black Cabin” was dry and monotonous by comparison. It was just repetitive, dull training every day, all aimed at making their movements as mechanical as possible—like robots.
Song Chengwang’s team, with their performance “Rainy Night,” had a similar philosophy to Shang Yu’s team. They focused on recreating the final stage atmosphere during practice. Every session, they would put on dress shirts, soak them with water, and dance to the sound of rain.
[Classic Brother Wang—he’s flirting with me even during training footage. I’m loving it, hehe~]
[Who else gets it? I’ve already screenshot so many moments. Demon King Shen is too cold and distant—meant to be admired from afar. But Brother Wang? He’s for us to play with~]
Jiang Yanxi’s team, performing “Blank,” had major over-the-top “edgy teenager” vibes.
Instead of using temporary hair dye spray like they did on stage, the members wore wigs during training. But the wigs were worn so poorly that the effect was pure comedy gold. The whole practice room—and the livestream chat—burst out laughing.
Ning Sinian’s team’s “Across the Water, Reaching for the Moon” had a completely different tone. The music was so tranquil it made people sleepy, and the dancers’ stiff movements didn’t match the flow of the melody at all. But through repeated practice, their stiffness slowly melted away.
By their final rehearsal, it was obvious—their bodies had become far more fluid and graceful.
After watching all seven teams’ training footage, the moment both the trainees and the audience had been waiting for finally arrived: Shen Xiu’s team.
Once the cat-head censorship filters disappeared, the full view of Shen Xiu’s practice room was revealed.
And the audience finally understood why Zhao Mingwei had suddenly changed his expression and confronted Shen Xiu that day—it turns out, he thought he was too short!
Right after that, they watched as Shen Xiu calmly pulled out a pair of height-increasing shoes—specifically requested from the production team.
The trainees: “…”
As expected of Shen Xiu—even tiny details like height differences didn’t escape his consideration!
[Noise-canceling headphones, height-increasing shoes… he planned every task down to the last detail. Through his actions, he proved to Teacher Xue that their team really did collaborate in full cooperation. They made sure not to waste anyone else’s time, sacrificing their own rest to revise and coordinate everything.
I can’t even imagine how late into the night Shen Xiu stayed behind, silently reworking things after the livestream ended, just to have a finished product ready by the next day. What’s most terrifying is that Boss Shen could already analyze each team’s strengths from the very beginning of songwriting and choreography. Boss Shen is just… I’m crying!]
[When a team member misunderstood and asked to swap parts, Shen Xiu didn’t just brush them off after saying no. Instead, he proved through action that the parts he assigned were the most suitable for everyone. His strength gave him confidence, but never arrogance—he never acted like he was above explaining his choices to his teammates. I love Shen’s team so much!]
[He even wrote each member’s name on the progress bar for their respective parts after each practice session. This level of detail… I hereby declare myself dead for Boss Shen!]
[No one’s going to mention how brutally honest Demon King Shen was when correcting people’s movements? Every time he spoke, it was sharp, direct, and ruthless—so savage, I love it!]
No one could help but admire someone who was strong, patient, meticulous, and deeply responsible. The comment section was overflowing with messages of love and praise for Shen Xiu.
The trainees who had stayed on after the second performance ranking felt the same. Those who had worked alongside Shen Xiu became the envy of the others.
On the big screen, Shen Xiu’s team’s training footage continued playing.
After several patient corrections from Shen Xiu, the team still hadn’t reached the level he expected. Then, his cold, clear voice rang through the speakers, reaching everyone’s ears:
“If this were your last stage on this show, ask yourselves honestly—would you really be satisfied performing the way you did in yesterday’s practice?”
Sitting in the back row, Shen Xiu was caught completely off guard hearing his own overly dramatic words being played back—especially when the entire practice room fell into a strange silence right after he finished speaking.
Shen Xiu: “…”
It’s over. He’d embarrassed everyone into complete silence.
Already socially dead inside, Shen Xiu could only comfort himself with practiced skill: ‘I’m in the back row. Even if they’re cringing, no one will turn around to look at my face!’
[!!! I underestimated him—this is the true power of Demon King Shen. Everything before this was just the warm-up!]
[The moment he said that line, didn’t it feel like everyone was about to cry?]
[Imagine being one of his teammates in that moment—under the icy gaze of Demon King Shen, being told flat-out that your skill level wasn’t enough to survive the third round… horrifying. Wuwuwu.]
Earlier, the trainees had been dying to work with Shen Xiu. But now, after hearing that line, they were suddenly scared.
Shen Xiu was just too strong. In his eyes, their skill level was probably on the same tier as the Teletubbies—childish and doomed to be eliminated!
Which is exactly why, after failing to correct them through repeated guidance, Shen Xiu had calmly, coldly delivered the harsh truth with a straight face.
Wuwuwu, terrifying. Absolutely terrifying!
Unless you’d built up a seriously strong heart, it was best to stay far, far away from Demon King Shen!
At that moment, the trainees sitting in the row in front of Shen Xiu suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable—just knowing he was right behind them.
Now, they finally understood why Shen Xiu’s team had managed to “de-cringe” themselves so successfully overnight.
After having their skill level ruthlessly exposed by Demon King Shen, who would still have the nerve—or the face—to act cool in front of him? Who would still dare to think their smoldering gaze or “charming” movements were actually attractive?
With Teletubby-level skills—let’s be honest—who among them deserved to even be in the same sentence as the word “cool”?
As the video reached this point, one trainee belatedly came to a realization and muttered aloud, “Wait… if everyone’s early-stage training was a total mess, then why did we all say our group’s training was going great when we were in the cafeteria?”
The moment those words left his mouth, the captains from each group turned to look at the remaining members of their own teams still on stage, eyes narrowing—
What’s going on here?
