Chapter 63: The Third Performance (1)
Shen Xiu: “…”
Is it possible that it’s not that nobody wants to answer, but that you’re talking so incessantly that no one can get a word in?
But Shen Xiu only dared to think this in his heart—there was no way he’d actually say it out loud.
Song Chengwang raised his hand unceremoniously to rub his ear: “Are you a sparrow or something?”
Xiang Yueting rolled his eyes: “Are you a sloth? So slow—feels like you’re trying to drive me crazy!”
At that moment, Shen Xiu looked at Song Chengwang and Xiang Yueting with eyes full of admiration.
It wasn’t that Shen Xiu found Xiang Yueting noisy or annoying—he simply thought both Xiang Yueting and Song Chengwang were amazing. To be able to speak so freely and without restraint must mean the two of them were really close.
Shen Xiu was envious. Deeply envious.
So envious that, in the stillness of the night, he would sometimes imagine—if he were as outgoing and sociable as Xiang Yueting, would he also have a group of friends he could talk about anything with?
But… just thinking about having to speak so much in real life—where he might accidentally blurt out something weird without rehearsing it in his head first—made Shen Xiu’s scalp tingle. He stopped those thoughts right there.
Xiang Yueting and Song Chengwang noticed Shen Xiu’s quiet gaze directed at them. They glanced at each other.
And in each other’s eyes, they saw the same thing: Shen Xiu’s look was clearly saying that their bickering was childish—like elementary school kids!
Not wanting to be seen as childish by Shen Xiu, the two of them coughed awkwardly to break the tension.
Even from the bathroom sink, Jiang Yanxi could hear Xiang Yueting’s nonstop barrage of questions. After finishing washing his hands, he walked out, heading toward his desk while grumbling:
“Xiang Yueting sure knows how to ask questions. He literally just asked me and Ning Sinian the exact same thing a minute ago.”
Ning Sinian sat cross-legged on his bed. Upon hearing that, he looked up from his paper notebook and chimed in, “When he heard that my group also started arguing over parts, he had this look of pure satisfaction.”
Shang Yu raised an eyebrow slightly. “Got it. Sounds like the Collapse group had a fierce fight.”
“Hmph!” Xiang Yueting snorted coldly, which was as good as confirming what Shang Yu said. “I’m not exaggerating—just with the amount of resentment I’m carrying right now, I could easily sustain ten Evil Sword Immortals!”
Shang Yu smiled. “So, in the competition between you and Xia Wenhao, you lost.”
Xiang Yueting froze at those words, then turned to look at Shang Yu with obvious grievance in his eyes, and said in a wounded voice, “…Could you not state the harsh truth out loud?”
Great. He didn’t get any answers from anyone, and instead got exposed on all fronts—face and pride, both gone. Damn it!
[LOL, the look Shen Xiu gave Brother Wang and Erha was full of silent frustration. He’s probably never met anyone this childish before, hahahaha]
[Knew it. No wonder President Shang is undefeated—Erha is no match for him.]
[Xiang Yueting: Wait a second… Erha isn’t supposed to be me, right???]
[Ladies, why are we gathered here today? (shouting) Of course, it’s to celebrate Xiang Yueting officially losing his real name! (cheers)]
[Wuwuwu Brother Ha, I didn’t want this either, but you really are so much like my dumb dog at home LOL]
—
Shang Yu gave a light cough. “You really want to know how the Heaven group divided their parts?”
Xiang Yueting nodded eagerly. “Absolutely!”
And it wasn’t just him—everyone from the other two groups was dying to know too!
People from the other dorm groups perked up their ears, eager to hear what Shang Yu had to say.
Shang Yu curled his lips slightly. “Not telling you.”
Xiang Yueting: “…”
Ning Sinian: “…”
Mu Zhenchu: “…”
Shen Xiu: “!”
You can joke around like that?! Is Shang Yu really not going to get beaten up for this…?
“Shang Yu, I’m gonna kill you!” Xiang Yueting roared furiously and charged toward Shang Yu with full momentum.
Shen Xiu: …He really is getting beaten up.
Sorry, Shang Yu. He shouldn’t have jinxed it, even in his head!
Shang Yu calmly caught Xiang Yueting’s fist, yanked him backward, then twisted his arm behind his back and slammed him against the wall.
“Still want to fight?”
With his face pressed against the wall, Xiang Yueting was stunned. He had never expected that Shang Yu—who always looked so refined and composed—would be so strong and fast. He was pinned down so tightly he couldn’t even budge.
Xiang Yueting shouted, “No more, no more! I give up!”
“Good,” Shang Yu said, letting go and stepping back two paces.
He had controlled his strength well—it was all just in good fun and wouldn’t actually hurt Xiang Yueting.
Once released, Xiang Yueting leaned back against the wall, still trying to save face: “Don’t get too happy yet. I’m only surrendering for now! Just wait—I’ll wipe the floor with you on stage!”
He might not beat Shang Yu in physical strength, but he was going to make up for it in performance.
After all, he was someone who had been encouraged by Shen Xiu from the very beginning. Shen Xiu’s judgment wasn’t wrong—he couldn’t keep acting like he was too old to take risks, timid and lacking courage.
Shang Yu curled his lips. “Looking forward to it, defeated rival.”
Xiang Yueting exploded again. Knowing full well he couldn’t win in a fight, he could only pace around the dorm, muttering like a madman:
“I’m so pissed off, I’m so pissed off!”
“I’m not mad, I’m not mad—if I get sick from being mad, it’s my own fault. I’m not mad, not mad, not mad…”
Watching the whole thing, Shen Xiu: “!”
So impressive. He never imagined that Shang Yu, who usually wore a gentle smile, could actually be scarier than the stern Song Chengwang.
Looks like from now on, he’d have to be more careful with his words—better not to provoke Shang Yu. If you offend someone else, you might just get scolded, but if you offend Shang Yu, you get beaten up.
But… Shen Xiu looked at Shang Yu and Xiang Yueting, and realized that neither of them was actually angry about what just happened. Even while provoking each other, they were both smiling.
Was this… what close friends were like?
Shen Xiu’s gaze fell on Xiang Yueting, and a pang of bitterness stirred in his chest. It felt like a lump of cotton was stuck in his throat—making it hard to breathe. But it wasn’t the breathlessness of embarrassment. It was the kind where you want to say something, want to do something, but the words just won’t come out.
Next time… when everyone eats together again, maybe he could try bringing up a topic, join in the conversation a little?
Noticing Shen Xiu’s gaze lingering on Xiang Yueting—who was still pacing the dorm while muttering to himself—Ning Si smiled and said, “Shen Xiu, you also think Xiang Yueting’s kind of a silly cutie, right?”
Cute?
When Shen Xiu thought of Xiang Yueting, for some reason, what came to mind was a sunflower in a field—always blooming toward the sunlight. He nodded. “Yeah, cute.”
Facing away from Shen Xiu, Xiang Yueting’s footsteps halted when he heard the word cute used on him. His ears instantly turned red.
The very next second, the whole dorm heard Xiang Yueting’s defiant retort: “W-Who’s cute?! Don’t talk nonsense! I’m handsome and mighty!”
Shen Xiu: “…”
Alright then. As long as Xiang Yueting’s happy.
[“Handsome and mighty”? Brother Ha, are you sure you understand what those words mean? Turn around and look at Demon King Xiu, President Shang, and Brother Wang. That’s what real mighty looks like.]
[President Shang’s smooth, seamless takedown move just now was insanely cool!]
[And that look Shen Xiu gave Shang Yu… pure admiration. You can tell those two have that rare kind of mutual respect between strong personalities.]
[That’s just how huskies are—they think they’re cold and dominant CEOs, but in reality, they’re just goofy clowns (husky dog emoji)]
[Erha just needs to be pampered. That last look Cool Guy Xiu gave our Brother Ha was full of affection]
After goofing around for a while, the group noticed it was getting late and began heading to the bathroom one after another to wash up.
Seeing that Shang Yu and the others were just washing their faces in the restroom, Shen Xiu grabbed his clothes and went ahead to shower. By the time Shen Xiu finished and came out, Shang Yu and the others had entered the other bathrooms to bathe.
Shen Xiu brushed his teeth and washed up quickly, then got into bed to rest.
By 11 p.m., when Song Chengwang and the others came out, Shen Xiu was already lying in bed with his eyes closed, breathing evenly. No one found it surprising.
Song Chengwang, the last one to climb into bed, sat cross-legged and looked over at Shang Yu and Shen Xiu—both lying on their backs with hands neatly folded over their stomachs in the exact same sleep position. Then he glanced at Xiang Yueting, who was sprawled face-down with limbs flailing every which way.
He sighed.
A human husky really was just like a dog husky—completely one of a kind, radiating clown energy from head to toe.
After sighing, Song Chengwang picked up the remote to turn off the lights, then lay down. Mimicking Shen Xiu and Shang Yu, he pulled the blanket up to his chest and folded his hands properly on his stomach.
There were a lot of things he knew he could never quite catch up to Shen Xiu and Shang Yu on… but at the very least, he could try copying their sleep posture?
Fifteen minutes later, in the darkness, Song Chengwang suddenly jolted awake from a nightmare. With a swish, he snatched his hands away from his stomach, tightened the blanket around himself, and curled up to face the wall, eyes squeezed shut in terror.
He’d dreamed of a ghost pressing down on his chest—too scary!
—
The Next Day
Before 8 a.m., all the members of the Heaven group had already gathered early in the practice room. Together, they went to the production team to move the fixed-position microphones into the studio.
On the way there, the four groups ran into each other one after another in the equipment room and along the hallway. When they saw what each other was carrying, there was no surprise in anyone’s eyes.
After all this time, they had already learned from Shen Xiu: not only should every practice session be treated as seriously as a real performance, but any props that would be used on stage should also be brought into rehearsals to simulate the actual conditions as much as possible.
As for waking up early and competing with one another? That had long since become the unspoken rule of Youth Unstoppable.
If you didn’t hustle, you wouldn’t even have the chance to struggle—you’d be sentenced to elimination on the spot.
Of course, everyone understood deep down that effort alone didn’t guarantee debut.
But at the very least, they could live with themselves.
Even if they left this stage in the future, when they looked back, this would be a memory they’d never regret—a beautiful, unforgettable experience with no what-ifs.
By 8:00 sharp, the members of the Heaven group had already lined up according to the positions they’d established yesterday. Each person stood in front of a floor-length mirror, with a fixed long microphone set up at the proper height based on their individual measurements.
Standing in the center, Shen Xiu found himself awkwardly making eye contact with teammates on both the left and right sides through the mirror.
Practice sessions weren’t as strict as the live stage, so to avoid forgetting lyrics, everyone had taped lyric sheets to their microphones. Their own lines were circled prominently in red.
After getting into position, Shen Xiu noticed that only he and Shang Yu hadn’t taped lyrics in front of their mics—he felt a bit relieved.
At least… someone else was like him.
Shen Xiu had evolved to the point where, no matter how awkward a situation was, as long as he wasn’t the only one, the awkwardness was cut in half.
Glancing in the mirror at the clock on the wall behind him, Shen Xiu realized that three full minutes had passed since 8 a.m.—wasn’t anyone else finding it awkward that they were all just standing here, staring at themselves and each other?
When would he ever be able to have the same mindset as everyone else?!
To Shen Xiu, each second felt like an eternity. To break this awkward atmosphere, he took the initiative to speak up: “Let’s begin.”
In his heart, Shen Xiu was practically pleading—‘Please, everyone, let’s get busy quickly. Once we dive into the world of the song, I won’t have time to dwell on whether this is awkward or not!’
Because Shen Xiu had first glanced at the time in the mirror before speaking, everyone assumed he didn’t want to waste even a second and was determined to make the most of every minute of training.
They thought: As expected of Shen Xiu, who holds himself to such high standards. Only three minutes have passed, and he already sees it as wasted time.
One after another, the others responded:
“OK.”
“Yeah, we’ve lost quite a bit of time.”
“Let’s get started then!”
Earlier, in order to better identify each person’s weaknesses, the Heaven team had discussed a plan after moving their equipment into the practice room. On one hand, they would sing a cappella; on the other, they’d record themselves using the audio equipment.
Soon, the sound of a cappella singing echoed through the room…
After the first full run-through, they played back the recording and took turns pointing out each other’s weaknesses.
Unsurprisingly, within the Heaven group, Shen Xiu, Song Chengwang, and Shang Yu had the best English pronunciation, enunciation, and intonation.
After some discussion, the three of them agreed that each would be responsible for coaching two members. They set a timer for twenty minutes, after which they would regroup for a second round of a cappella practice.
Lu Qian and Ke Zi’an were assigned to Shen Xiu. He led the two of them to a corner of the practice room, separating from the groups led by Shang Yu and Song Chengwang to avoid mutual interference.
Lu Qian was eager to learn, always silently studying the strengths of others. He stood obediently in front of Shen Xiu. Ke Zi’an was also cooperative—he did whatever was asked, rarely challenging or questioning anything.
Shen Xiu wasn’t good at talking, so the three of them just stared at each other in awkward silence in the corner. The atmosphere felt a little eerie.
Especially with the continuous sounds coming from the two other groups nearby, Shen Xiu—who was responsible for correcting the other two—felt even more nervous. While mentally reviewing their issues, he also tried to speed up preparing what he wanted to say, just to end this suffocating silence as soon as possible.
After 30 seconds, he finally managed to break the dreadful quiet. Even his voice carried a hint of relief and cheerfulness.
“Let’s not talk about the emotional tone of Heaven just yet. Both of your voices are too sweet, too soft. You need to lower your vocal register.”
Ke Zi’an timidly asked, “Can you sing a line, and we follow along line by line?”
Lu Qian’s eyes lit up and he nodded eagerly. “Can we?”
Shen Xiu: “Alright.”
Teaching by demonstration was way easier than trying to explain things with too many words!
And just like that, the three of them came to a strangely seamless agreement.
“Ke Zi’an, this part should go like this—When…”
Getting a one-on-two tutoring session from a top-ranking contestant was a rare opportunity. Everyone treated it seriously, knowing full well how valuable it was to learn from him.
Twenty minutes later, the nine members returned to their positions in front of the mirror for the second round of a cappella recording.
After finishing the second recording, Shen Xiu, Song Chengwang, and Shang Yu again split into their original small groups with two members each, returning to their previous corners to offer feedback and corrections.
Of course, every time these three corrected others, their group members would also point out issues in their singing.
After a full day of repeated cycles of “practice → correction,” by 10 PM, the Heaven group compared their final recording of the day to the first one from the morning—and everyone could clearly hear just how much they had improved.
They unanimously agreed to begin using the instrumental accompaniment starting tomorrow.
[Even though I couldn’t hear what everyone was saying, after watching the whole day, I can guess that the top three ranking contestants were each giving small-group tutoring sessions.]
[Hearing the words “small-group tutoring” instantly took me back to the exhausting days before the college entrance exam in senior year.]
[Everyone’s working so seriously on their practice, even the groups next door. No one dares to slack off—they’re practically singing non-stop. I saw them eating a lot of throat-soothing stuff too.]
[So many people were eliminated during the second public performance. The third one is bound to be even more competitive—after all, the finals are next. Everyone’s already fought their way to this point, so of course they’re going to give it everything they’ve got. Who knows, maybe they’ll make it into the debut lineup.]
[I’ve watched so many survival shows, but this is the first time I don’t dislike any of the remaining trainees. Even if my pick is someone else, I still don’t dislike the others.]
[That’s a normal feeling—after all, who could dislike someone who works so seriously and puts in real effort?]
As the trainees endured three days of grueling practice, time flew by, and before they knew it, the practice period for the third public performance group battle had ended.
On the fourth day, at 9 a.m., the third public performance officially began.
Inside the familiar, grand venue setup, the four trainee groups entered the stage one by one amidst cheers from the live audience, following the cue of the host, He Ting.
Just as the trainees settled into position on stage, the staff wheeled out a cabinet onto the stage.
Both the live audience and the livestream viewers saw that every compartment in the cabinet was secured with a lock.
Faced with this cabinet full of small locked compartments, not only the audience but also the trainees were completely confused.
“What is the production team up to now?”
“Given how the production team occasionally loses their minds, why do I suddenly feel a chill down my spine?”
“I have a bad feeling about this too…”
“I’ve seen a lot of prank shows before—those production teams love to put all sorts of snakes or other animals inside a black box and make the guests stick their hands in to feel around. Our show’s not going to pull the same trick, right?”
Very few people aren’t afraid of snakes. As soon as the trainees heard there might be snakes inside the cabinet, they all got goosebumps.
While the trainees whispered among themselves, the audience below the stage was also chatting curiously with their friends.
“There’s an 80% chance it’s a prank. I just wonder how scary it’s going to be.”
“Demon King Xiu is the big boss demon—he definitely wouldn’t be afraid of snakes and stuff like that!”
“Didn’t expect to watch a talent show and get to see the production team messing with the trainees too—this ticket was worth way more than my expensive cab fare!”
“Demon King Xiu going shirtless, with a cold snake flicking its tongue and winding around his arm… Aaaah, just imagining it makes me want to scream!”
Hearing the person next to her imagine such a scene, fellow Xiu-stan Tang Yiling’s eyes lit up. She couldn’t help leaning over and saying, “Sister, that idea is brilliant. Can I draw it?”
Ren Qianning, who had just pictured the whole thing herself, looked at Tang Yiling with fiery eyes. “Sister, you’re a Xiu-stan too! Of course you can draw it. I was just talking nonsense, but you—you’re amazing! You can actually draw it!”
What a divine source of fan content!
With her permission, Tang Yiling opened her notes app. “Sister, can I get your Weibo ID? I’ll tag you when I finish drawing.”
“Of course!” Ren Qianning quickly gave her ID to Tang Yiling.
Just as she finished speaking, the host He Ting’s voice rang out across the venue. The two of them turned their attention to the stage, ending their short exchange.
“I’m sure everyone’s curious about what’s inside this cabinet—don’t worry, the answer will be revealed soon.”
As He Ting spoke, a staff member from the production team brought a black box over and set it down beside him.
He Ting continued speaking: “Although I can’t tell you exactly what’s inside the cabinet just yet, I can give you a tiny hint—you’re definitely going to love it.”
Then he shrugged playfully. “As for whether the trainees will love it… I’m not so sure.”
His cheeky comment drew a burst of laughter from the audience, while the trainees’ nerves were all over the place.
“Alright, enough chatter. Let’s get to it—I’m revealing the answer now.”
He Ting and the staff member holding the black box walked over to the trainees. “Each of you, please reach into the box and draw one key. Only one—you know we only have 36 lockers.”
Nervous but curious, the trainees took turns reaching into the black box and drawing out a key.
When Shen Xiu pulled his hand out, he saw a red tag attached to his key, with the number 18 written on it.
Shen Xiu: “…”
Red like blood. The number 18 sounds like “go die” in Chinese, and there’s also the superstition about the 18 levels of hell… Great. His luck was just as terrible today as always.
‘It’s fine,’ Shen Xiu reassured himself. Today, he was a firm materialist—superstition had no place in his world!
Once all 36 trainees had drawn their keys, the staff placed the black box on a table nearby and left the stage.
Song Chengwang whispered to Shang Yu, “What number did you get?”
“Number 6,” Shang Yu replied.
“Not bad. Six means smooth sailing,” Song Chengwang said as he gave his own key a little shake. “Mine’s pretty lucky too—I got 8. Gonna get rich all the way.”
After speaking, Song Chengwang looked past Shang Yu toward Shen Xiu. “What about you, Shen Xiu?”
Having just listened to their entire cheerful exchange, Shen Xiu: “…”
‘Thanks for asking—now I want to curl up and die. Really not in the mood to answer!’
But not answering wasn’t really an option. Shen Xiu, who wasn’t good at rejecting people, gave up resisting and replied weakly, “Eighteen.”
His voice was calm and quiet. Though everyone clearly heard him say “eighteen,” the way his voice drifted out made it sound more like he was coldly pronouncing, “Go die.”
The trainees, who wavered between being rational materialists and occasional believers in superstition, couldn’t help thinking: the number Shen Xiu drew really was unlucky. Could it be… that his intense and terrifying aura attracted this ominous number?
“Now, trainees, please take your key, find the locker with the matching number, open it, and take out what’s inside. Place it or wear it somewhere appropriate on your body.”
