Chapter 65: Third Performance (3)
He Ting: “To everyone here and those watching on screen, please get ready. The voting for the four performances—Heaven, Lemon Hawthorn, Delusion, and Collapse—will begin in 30 seconds.”
“To the live audience, please hold your voting devices ready. Viewers watching the livestream, please pay attention to the upcoming pop-up options. You will have 30 seconds to vote. Once the countdown ends, any missed or repeated votes will be considered forfeited.”
Behind the trainees was an enormous screen. This large screen not only zoomed in on the stage during the performance to help the audience see more clearly, but it also displayed various voting results.
“From now until the end of voting, trainees are prohibited from turning around.”
As He Ting finished speaking, the trainees nervously closed their eyes, filled with unease.
At the same time, the audience was caught up in the tense voting session—after all, as the host said, there wasn’t much time given to think things through.
“We’re doomed, doomed! Who was in which group again?”
“I only remember that Heaven’s team had the most top players. My favorite is in the Lemon Hawthorn group. I’ll defend my fave to the end—locking out Heaven and the other two!”
“Ahhh why did thirty seconds go by so fast? I haven’t even made up my mind yet!”
The voting began quickly, and the venue fell into a hush, broken only by soft murmurs and the sounds of buttons being pressed.
With four songs and various groupings, thirty seconds was far too short. Most of the audience could only glance quickly before making a rushed choice before the countdown ended.
“Whew… my heart was really pounding just now.”
“There were so many combinations listed by the production team—I didn’t even have time to see them clearly. When it came time to vote, I only had one thought in my head: keep Heaven away from my fave!”
“Same here! As soon as I saw an option where the Heaven group wasn’t paired with my fave, I picked it without hesitation.”
[As a scholar of rankings, seeing that the Heaven group had the most top-tier trainees, only one thought went through my head when voting: ‘How lonely to be invincible~’]
[As a little fangirl of President Shang, I felt exactly the same. No matter which group they face, it feels the same to me.]
[Heaven group as a whole right now: Drawing their swords, gazing in all directions, and feeling lost.]
[Current mood of the Heaven group: Let’s see which poor soul is unlucky enough to be up against us!]
Three, two, one!
The giant countdown on the big screen reached zero, and in that moment, the results of the group matchup for this third performance were displayed.
Seeing the matchup list for the third public performance, some audience members let out a sigh of relief, while others felt their hearts leap up into their throats.
“Wait, what? I definitely locked out both Heaven and Lemon Hawthorn!”
“I don’t even know what to say. My sympathy goes to the Collapse group. That name was ominous from the start, and now it’s really living up to it.”
“Collapse group is carrying too much burden!”
He Ting glanced up at the results on the screen and addressed the trainees: “Trainees, you may now open your eyes and turn around to view the results of the third performance matchup.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the trainees—who had been enduring seconds that felt like hours—quickly opened their eyes. With a “might as well face the music” attitude, they all turned around at once.
The Lemon Hawthorn and Delusion groups let out simultaneous, excited cheers of “Yay!”—despite technically being rivals, they threw their arms around each other without a trace of hostility.
In that moment, both groups shared one core belief: As long as it’s not Heaven, we don’t care who we’re up against!
Setting aside the lineup and strength of each group, just the fact that the Heaven group had the “final boss” Xiu in it was enough to make everyone want to avoid them like the plague.
Seeing the result of the audience vote, the members of the Collapse group fell into silence.
As the highest-ranked trainee in the Collapse group, Xiang Yueting said to his group members, “Everyone, I’ve got good news—we have a strong player on our side, nothing to be afraid of!”
Xia Wenhao glanced over at the Heaven group. At Xiang Yueting’s words, the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. “The bad news is… they have more strong players over there…”
Zhao Mingwei added, “Not just strong players. They have an assassin. The kind that kill without a trace. Terrifying!”
Collapse group members: “……”
Great. Now they felt even more hopeless. Collapse, huh? Their minds were the ones collapsing now.
Jokes aside, most members of the Collapse group—no, pretty much all the trainees—already understood what this third performance truly meant.
Turning fate around in a place filled with top-tier competitors was nearly impossible. No matter which group they were up against, the only thing they could do was give it their all—for themselves, and for the fans and audience who supported them.
So after a few seconds of stunned silence, the Collapse group quickly regrouped and began encouraging one another.
“What’s done is done. What’s the worst that can happen… cough, maybe we’ll just have to start over. Let’s go!”
“Yeah! No big deal. Making it this far is already the result of intense competition. I’m satisfied.”
“Then let the Collapse come even harder!”
“Doesn’t matter who the opponent is or what the outcome will be—just give it everything we’ve got!”
Xiang Yueting: “?”
He had the feeling something was… off about everyone.
…
Meanwhile, the members of the Heaven group—shunned by the other three groups—weren’t even the slightest bit upset.
To ensure every trainee clearly understood the group matchups, a staff member brought forward a black box. Only then did He Ting continue, “The group matchups have been finalized. Next, each group will send one member forward to draw lots and determine the performance order for the third round.”
“For the first draw, one of the two groups in each matchup will draw to decide who performs first or second. For the second draw, the two groups in each matchup will draw against each other to determine their order. In both draws, number 1 means performing first, and number 2 means performing second.”
“You have one minute to discuss.”
The Heaven and Collapse group members looked at each other in silence.
Xia Wenhao spoke up first: “Which group’s going to draw for the first round?”
Xiang Yueting said, “Heaven group can do it. Of course, we from the Collapse group can too. There are only two matchups—order doesn’t really make much difference.”
Shang Yu agreed with Xiang Yueting: “Order doesn’t matter. It’s all the same.”
Shen Xiu nodded: “Yeah.”
As long as he didn’t have to draw, that was good enough!
Song Chengwang looked at Xia Wenhao: “Since it doesn’t matter, and you spoke first, you go.”
Xia Wenhao: “…Fine.”
For the first draw, the Heaven and Collapse groups sent Xia Wenhao.
While the Lemon Hawthorn and Delusion groups were discussing, Ning Sinian—still traumatized from drawing Shen Xiu’s team last time—refused to draw lots. In the end, they sent Mu Zhenchu.
Xia Wenhao and Mu Zhenchu stood before the box, one after the other, and reached in to draw.
Mu Zhenchu drew number 1: Lemon Hawthorn and Delusion would be the first matchup.
Xia Wenhao drew number 2: Heaven and Collapse would be the second matchup.
For the second round of internal group draws, Lemon Hawthorn sent Jiang Yanxi, and Delusion sent Rong Cheng.
Jiang Yanxi drew number 1, meaning the Lemon Hawthorn group would perform first in the first group matchup; Rong Cheng drew number 2, so the Delusion group would perform second.
The Heaven group sent Song Chengwang, who drew number 2, making them the second to perform in the second group matchup; the Collapse group sent Xiang Yueting, who drew number 1, placing them first in the second matchup.
After a short round of drawing lots, the afternoon’s third performance order was officially set.
Once the staff left the stage carrying the box, He Ting addressed the trainees: “The third public performance will officially begin at 2 PM this afternoon. Please make sure your groups are fully prepared.”
“Until then, trainees, feel free to interact with the fans who love and support you.”
“The interaction segment includes, but is not limited to, wearing or using the items from your blind boxes, and posing for photos in positions requested by the fans.”
He Ting turned to the audience: “We kindly ask everyone to turn off the flash when taking photos. Thank you for your cooperation.”
This was no less exciting than a large fan meeting, and the live audience erupted in loud cheers.
Since the production team was giving them such a special treat, the audience happily followed the instructions, quickly turning off their flash modes and looking expectantly toward their favorite trainees.
To get the attention of specific trainees, the audience relied on shouting.
“Xiu-baby, over here! Can you make a heart shape with your thumb and index finger toward the camera?”
Hearing that fans were actively giving requests lifted a huge weight off Shen Xiu’s shoulders.
He didn’t have to come up with poses himself? This felt like a gift from the heavens!
Even better, by simply going along with fans’ pose requests, he could quietly blend in with the other trainees—no more worrying about awkward moments or being left out without knowing how to join in.
Shen Xiu replied without hesitation: “Can!”
After speaking, worried that just one pose wouldn’t be enough and that he’d end up awkwardly stiff on stage, Shen Xiu added a little cleverly: “You can ask me to do any pose you want.”
Though his voice through the headset was calm and devoid of emotion, his words were a clear sign of mutual affection with his fans—the Xiuologists.
“Ahhh Xiu-baby, you’re the best!”
“Love you to death!”
Faced with such direct declarations, Shen Xiu didn’t quite know how to respond. After a few seconds of thought, he awkwardly replied, “I like you too.”
That response instantly triggered another round of ecstatic screams from the Xiuologists.
This open, unfiltered kindness and enthusiasm was a kind of emotion Shen Xiu wasn’t used to.
Unskilled at handling situations like this, he quickly acted on the fan’s earlier request and stepped to the front of the stage, a bit closer to the Xiuologists.
Then, Shen Xiu reached out his right hand, crossing his thumb and index finger at the tips to form the single-hand heart gesture he had learned from his teammates, shifting the fans’ attention: “Is this okay?”
As the fans heard his cool, soft voice, they saw him on stage—with the most arrogant expression, sharp eyes, wearing fluffy wolf ears and a sleek choker—raise his long, slender, knuckle-defined fingers to form a heart toward the camera.
The contrast almost made the Xiuologists lose their minds from the overwhelming cuteness.
[Demon King Xiu: This king’s heart—take it and treasure it!]
[This is the ten-thousandth time I’ve asked WHY didn’t I get a ticket? Why am I not there in person?! Damn it, wuwuwu.]
Seeing the fans frantically snapping photos, Shen Xiu held the pose completely still.
Handcuffed to Shang Yu, wearing Xiang Yueting’s black wings on his back, putting on a husky dog headpiece—whatever the fans asked for, Shen Xiu complied without hesitation.
The other trainees were no different. As long as the fans liked it, they were willing to borrow anything from each other, wear anything—even putting on boiled-egg-shaped eye masks to pose like Ultraman fighting monsters didn’t faze them.
While the trainees joyfully interacted with their fans, many of them trended on social media due to various absurd or strangely charming blind box items.
As for the show’s approach, some people loved it, while others scoffed at it.
[This talent show is really pulling off one outrageous move after another. Usually, by this stage, shows get all serious. Youth Unstoppable is doing the opposite—it’s clearly helping these trainees win over their fans. Haven’t seen artists actively courting fans like this in years. Kinda nostalgic.]
[What is this nonsense? Sucking up to fans is still sucking up. Don’t they have any idol dignity? They haven’t even debuted yet and they’re already acting like clowns. Are they planning to be comedians or what? Take it from me—stars should act like stars. Show some class, OK? I don’t like artists with no class.]
[Who even are you? Who cares if you like it or not? We like it, and that’s all that matters. What gives you the right to talk?]
[If you don’t want your eyes, feel free to gouge them out. Where exactly is the “lack of class”? Look at my Brother Xiu’s photo. No class? Say that again, I dare you.]
[Some people are just used to kissing up to their own faves so much that they can’t stand seeing others getting genuine love. This kind of mutual affection? They’ll never understand it. Jealousy is oozing through the screen~]
[What’s the big deal? They’re only doing this because they haven’t debuted and don’t have many fans yet. Once they debut and gain popularity, they’ll get just as arrogant.]
[Wow, so you do know your idol is arrogant, huh? Who let him get that way if not you fans? No one knows how messed up your fave is better than you do—you just won’t admit it because you’re blinded by your own bias.]
—
At 2 PM, the third performance officially began.
This time, the makeup and styling time was shortened to twenty minutes. Since the show had never provided any styling services, the trainees had long become adept at doing it themselves.
Moreover, the songs for the third performance were mostly lyrical in nature—singing while standing still was sufficient, and there weren’t many props needed. So everyone’s styling was relatively simple.
According to the order drawn, “Lemon Hawthorn” opened the show.
“Lemon Hawthorn” featured Jiang Yanxi and Ning Sinian—two of the most attractive and equally skilled members of the group—as dual center positions. All members wore headset mics. There was no jumping or bouncing—just sweet and quiet voices accompanied by simple gestures.
The song “Lemon Hawthorn”, with its gently told melody and the trainees’ sweet smiles directed at the audience, brought everyone back to the sweetness of their first love.
Three minutes later, “Lemon Hawthorn” ended.
After listening, the audience felt like something was missing.
“It doesn’t quite have that bittersweet sadness. This is a love song about first love—aside from the sweetness, there should be some sense of regret or sorrow.”
“Exactly. I finally figured out what felt off—it’s the emotion. That sweet-and-sour feeling is what makes it real.”
“Ahem, from the way they sang, I can tell—they’ve probably never been in love. First love isn’t just sweet; there’s also that inevitable parting and sadness.”
“Without the support of choreography, they relied solely on emotional delivery. But that emotion depends on personal interpretation, and the ‘Lemon Hawthorn’ group’s weaknesses were really obvious here.”
After “Lemon Hawthorn” ended, “Delusion” began.
With Mu Zhenchu as the center, the entire “Delusion” group stepped on stage holding guitars.
Holding instruments that usually give a calm and quiet vibe, the “Delusion” group delivered the chaotic and nonsensical emotional turbulence of “Delusion”, transforming the guitars from symbols of serenity into expressions of explosive intensity.
The dissatisfaction and frustration with the world expressed in “Delusion” were conveyed through hysterical screams.
When “Delusion” ended, the audience—drawn into the chaotic world it created—seemed to have unleashed all their own inexplicable frustrations and discontent with the world in a cathartic release.
It was obvious to everyone that “Delusion” surpassed “Lemon Hawthorn”, both in terms of vocal delivery and emotional interpretation.
As a result, in the first round of voting for the first team battle of the third performance, “Delusion” won, and every member of the “Delusion” group received bonus votes.
The results of the second round of voting were kept confidential for the time being and would only be revealed during the third ranking announcement.
In the room belonging to the “Collapse” group, all nine members were stirred up after watching “Delusion”. Some were so emotional that their hands and feet trembled.
After a brief silence, a voice rang out through the room, heavy with suppressed emotion:
“What are we afraid of? Let’s go all out!”
That one sentence ignited the group’s spirit.
“Yeah, let’s give it everything we’ve got!”
“So what if the ‘Heaven’ group is strong? It’s not like we can avoid this—we might as well fight with our backs against the wall!”
“We’ve trained so seriously up to now—why back down?!”
“Exactly! The ‘Heaven’ group just has a few more top-ranked players—so do we! Who’s afraid of who? Let them bring it on!”
“We’ve already come this far. If we keep bottling it up, it’ll only suffocate us. We’ve had enough—we’re not holding back anymore!”
Amid the passionate shouts and mutual encouragement, someone reached out their hand first. Soon, the hands of all nine members were stacked together. They looked into each other’s eyes and saw the same burning determination reflected back.
“Let’s go!”
“We’re the best!”
“Charge!!!”
Cheers and shouts of encouragement echoed through the Collapse group’s room.
Xiang Yueting, who was usually the most energetic and playful member, suddenly felt a bad premonition when he saw everyone else being even more fired up than him.
It felt like… things were getting a little too intense.
As the Delusion group exited the stage, the Collapse group followed right after.
Watching the Collapse members stride out of their room with imposing, high-spirited energy, the livestream bullet comments were filled with “……”.
“Wow, so fired up. If I didn’t know this was a competition, I’d think the Collapse group was headed into a fight.”
“I actually double-checked the livestream title just to be sure—yep, it’s just a performance, not a battlefield.”
“High spirits are good. The Delusion group won with explosive emotion—maybe a miracle will happen again with Collapse.”
However…
The “maybe” the audience hoped for never came.
Because the Collapse members were too fired up—driven by a do-or-die mentality—they ended up turning every kind of emotion in the song into something that sounded like a final stand: “succeed or die trying.”
Several times, the long fixed microphones in front of them were yanked off the ground by members caught up in their intense delivery. One member even grabbed the mic stand—meant to remain neatly on the floor—and belted into it like a warrior declaring war.
Yet the emotion in Collapse wasn’t supposed to be about violent resistance. While it did carry intense feelings, they were meant to express a passion for being true to oneself, a rejection of society’s dull expectations, and an unyielding hope for the future.
It wasn’t supposed to feel like a life-or-death battle.
On stage, Xiang Yueting—who had already sensed something was off—found himself unable to speak up and interrupt. Instead, he tried to use the transition between the verse and chorus, returning to the calm, practiced style they had rehearsed, hoping to bring everyone back on track.
When Xia Wenhao heard Xiang Yueting deliberately slow down the rhythm, he snapped out of the intense emotion and gripped the fixed microphone in front of him tightly, trying his best to ignore the teammates beside him—who hadn’t even reached their parts yet—already swaying and shaking their microphones restlessly.
As soon as Xiang Yueting finished the last word of his verse, Xia Wenhao quickly composed himself and sang the first chorus with the emotional tone they had practiced, restoring the performance to its intended level.
After finishing his part, Xia Wenhao silently prayed that the next teammate would also come to their senses in time.
Unfortunately, it was like trying to rein in wild horses—the group members were completely out of control. Neither Xiang Yueting nor Xia Wenhao could pause mid-performance to call them back. They could only listen helplessly as their teammates’ singing became increasingly unrestrained, like a flood crashing through a broken dam—impossible to stop.
Xia Wenhao and Xiang Yueting exchanged glances, both seeing the same helplessness in each other’s eyes. They had nothing left to say.
Xiang Yueting: “…”
This isn’t just a little too much—it’s astronomically too much!
Realizing just how far things had gone, Xiang Yueting almost burst into tears.
Xia Wenhao: “…”
This is madness—everyone’s gone completely mad! We can’t pull them back… there’s just no saving this!
[…Hahaha, what is this? Xia Wenhao and Xiang Yueting look like they’re in a completely different show than the rest of the group.]
[As expected, the Collapse group didn’t just have bad luck during the draw—they’re collapsing all over again on stage, completely out of control.]
[From the song name to the group members, everything about Collapse screams “might as well let it all fall apart.”]
[Honestly, their singing style would’ve fit Delusion much better. But for a song like Collapse, which is about the struggle between ideals and reality, this just doesn’t work.]
[All I can hear in their voices is that reality has already driven them mad—they’re not singing Collapse, they are collapsed.]
[What happened to them? Did going up against the Heaven group really break them emotionally? But it doesn’t even feel like an emotional breakdown—it just seems like raw, unfiltered venting.]
Three and a half minutes later, Collapse came to an end. Backstage, the Heaven group, already prepared, began to walk onto a pitch-black stage.
Once all the members of Heaven were in position, the lights—previously completely off—flashed on in an instant.
At the moment the warm white stage lights lit up, the audience saw the Heaven group, with Shen Xiu at the center position. All members were dressed identically in black shirts. The top two buttons of each shirt were undone, and the collars hung loosely, revealing their slender necks. The formation stretched across the stage in the shape of an open umbrella.
