Chapter 82: Finals (2)
After praying, Shen Xiu withdrew his hand from the box but did not open the slip of paper in his hand before the host spoke.
Soon, all nine trainees had a slip in their hands.
Once they had their slips, everyone couldn’t help but whisper their prayers.
Xiang Yueting said simply and straightforwardly, “I wish to draw number 9. If I do, I’ll bathe, burn incense, and eat vegetarian food for three days!”
Jiang Yanxi sighed, “My luck has never been good. I don’t ask for a late number; just something in the middle will do.”
Zhuang Yi said quietly, “Since we’re praying, be bold—I want number 9!”
Mu Zhenchu laughed loudly, “Zhuang Yi, then you’ll collide with Xiang Yueting. That’ll be hard on Heaven; it won’t make sense to give you both numbers 1 and 2.”
Xiang Yueting glared at Mu Zhenchu angrily, “Don’t casually jinx me!”
From the quiet banter and teasing, Shen Xiu easily sensed that everyone shared the same thought as him.
No one wanted to draw an early number because when the ninth performance ended, the earlier performances were easily forgotten by the audience, which was bad for voting.
But… praying after the draw—isn’t that a bit late?
Wait… does this mean that among the nine, he was the earliest to pray? That the gods heard him first?
“!”
Shen Xiu’s eyes lit up immediately.
After the trainees finished drawing lots, the staff carried the box offstage. He Ting had somehow climbed onto the movable long-arm platform prepared by the production team, suspended midair.
“Please open your slips and check your draw results, then show the results to our live broadcast and the audience here.”
After He Ting finished speaking, the nine trainees standing in a line lowered their heads and opened their slips according to the rules…
Shen Xiu opened the slip in his hand with hopeful wishes.
The moment he saw the number on the slip, his slightly lowered eyes showed a twitch in his pupils.
“?”
All that analysis was for nothing!
As the first person to draw, statistically he shouldn’t have been this unlucky!
Shen Xiu concluded that for this draw, based on his own verification, praying for a short time doesn’t work, and the order of praying doesn’t matter at all!
Seeing everyone else already showing their numbers to the audience, Shen Xiu also turned his slip toward the crowd.
The next second, Shen Xiu heard Xiang Yueting’s voice and perked up.
Since everyone was holding their numbers up for the audience, Shen Xiu was curious what his teammates had drawn too. But without Xiang Yueting’s strong social skills, he could only quietly eavesdrop.
Xiang Yueting stood on the far left, right beside Shen Xiu.
Xiang Yueting assumed Shen Xiu wouldn’t care about the order of performance and didn’t ask him. Instead, with a frustrated tone, he asked the teammates on his right, “Hey? What numbers did you get? Why did I get number 3? I’m so unlucky!”
Before waiting for an answer, Xiang Yueting eagerly turned toward Jiang Yanxi and asked Zhuang Yi, “What about you? What about you?”
Since the two of them had prayed for number 9 together, if Xiang Yueting ended up so unlucky, he’d be really upset if Zhuang Yi got lucky and got 9!
Zhuang Yi forced a stiff smile at the corner of his mouth: “Heh, number 2.”
Xiang Yueting’s eyes widened, then his mouth couldn’t hold back a crazy grin: “Hahaha, balanced out. Finally, my heart feels balanced!”
After laughing, Xiang Yueting seemed to remember something and looked at Mu Zhenchu: “You must be number 1, right?”
Mu Zhenchu’s crow-like jinx hit them both hard—he might as well own number 1 himself, or it wouldn’t make sense otherwise.
Shen Xiu: “…” Maybe this is what it means to be the subject of the gossip yourself.
‘Ugh, this melon tastes awful!’
Mu Zhenchu grinned: “Hehe, didn’t expect this—I’m number 6~”
Xiang Yueting: “… I give up on you, Old Six!”
Xiang Yueting then shifted his gaze to Jiang Yanxi: “You must be number 1, right? We prayed together, good brothers praying together, so of course we’ll be unlucky together.”
Jiang Yanxi smiled: “Really? I don’t believe it. After all… I’m number 9~”
Zhuang Yi: “?”
Xiang Yueting: “???”
Shen Xiu: “…”
‘Hah, didn’t see that coming, number 1 is with him!’
Those three unlucky ones standing together actually kind of fit in a way.
‘Wait… what did Jiang Yanxi say before? That his luck was bad? That’s bad luck? He’s basically a lucky king ranked second—nobody dares to take first place!’
As someone who’s always living on “Unlucky Star,” Shen Xiu silently closed off.
Zhuang Yi asked in confusion: “Then, here’s the question — who’s unlucky enough to get number 1?”
Shen Xiu, who had been quietly watching, said softly: “I’m number 1.”
Xiang Yueting, caught off guard by the familiar calm voice coming from the left, turned his head in disbelief toward Shen Xiu: “!”
The other seven also hadn’t expected number 1 to be Shen Xiu, and all glanced sideways at him.
Seeing Shen Xiu’s calm and indifferent expression, everyone finally understood.
That’s why no one heard any complaints about drawing number 1 for so long—because number 1 was with Shen Xiu.
Being the very first to perform? How could Shen Xiu possibly care! How could he possibly cry about being unlucky?
‘Impossible, absolutely impossible!’
Sensing everyone’s unified gaze, Shen Xiu sighed inwardly: Look, his ever-present bad luck has silenced everyone. His teammates must be feeling sorry for him right now.
“Damn it, in the end, it’s me, Xiang Yueting, who has to bear it all!”
Zhuang Yi nearly rolled his eyes: “Xiang Yueting, I’m number 2, OK? I’m even more unlucky than you!”
Xiang Yueting ignored Zhuang Yi and looked pitifully at Shen Xiu, who was even more unlucky than both of them yet remained silent: “Shen Xiu, don’t you have anything to say?”
Shen Xiu: “Nothing to say.”
At this point, after being unlucky so many times, Shen Xiu had grown used to it, and could only skillfully comfort himself quietly.
Zhuang Yi glanced at Xiang Yueting: “You’re really so silly!”
It was just the two of them!
For a strong person like Shen Xiu, drawing the most advantageous number 9 or the most disadvantageous number 1 made no difference at all.
Shen Xiu simply didn’t care!
Although the audience couldn’t hear the low conversations among the trainees on stage, they could still follow the logic of all the trainees except Shen Xiu.
“Number 1, huh? That’s really surprising.”
“But judging by Xiu-baby’s expression, the number doesn’t matter to him at all. He really doesn’t care.”
“That’s right, just look at how calm he is—our Xiu-baby is truly all-powerful and fearless!”
“Hahaha, you Xiuologists’ way of talking really cracks me up.”
The production team quickly tallied the lottery results and displayed them on the large screen behind the trainees.
He Ting glanced at the big screen, then announced to the audience from the elevated mechanical arm platform hovering above: “In ten minutes, the first performance of the Finals Night will begin. Please look forward to it.”
After addressing the audience, He Ting turned to the nine trainees on stage: “Please return to the private rooms arranged by the production team to prepare your makeup and equipment, and wait quietly for the broadcast notification.”
Hearing He Ting’s words, the nine trainees waved toward the stage in unison and left the stage.
“Almost there, almost there! I’m finally going to find out what dances Xiu-baby has been practicing backstage all these days. My heart is pounding so fast!”
“Waaah, who’s not excited! I can’t wait for our President Shang’s solo stage!”
“By the way, isn’t it more disadvantageous to perform earlier when it comes to voting later? After all, there are nine performances, so some might get forgotten. Ahhh, whatever, I’m sure Xiu-baby will leave a deep impression!”
…
Amid the anticipation of the crowd, the moment the lights on stage suddenly went dark, the entire audience instinctively fell into a practiced silence.
The first stage performance had officially begun!
As two beams of light struck Shen Xiu in the center of the stage from high above, the screen behind him lit up with the title of his solo performance: “Kill Me.”
This time, there were no extravagant backdrops—only Shen Xiu standing alone center stage, dressed in a white silk shirt, a black tie with dark gold patterns covering his eyes.
The black tie concealed his icy gaze, but it couldn’t hide the sharp, ruthless aura radiating from him.
Under the simple lighting, every movement Shen Xiu made still shimmered with brilliance.
Whether low and husky like a whisper, or powerful and pounding like war drums, his voice spread from the mic at his lips to every corner of the venue…
His left hand lifted—index and middle fingers pressed together—starting from his temple, then snapped forward with the beat, aiming straight at the crowd…
At the chest beat, the two top buttons of his white silk shirt came undone, and the fabric brushed lightly across his collarbone—a silent, unintentional temptation…
Whether it was the fluid and sharp kicks during the “Happy Feet” sequence,
Or the relaxed suppleness of his body during the waving segment,
Or the graceful arc of his jawline as he turned his head slightly while facing away from the audience,
Even the explosive power in his core as he leapt up from the ground in one fluid motion—
Every move Shen Xiu made was unconsciously seductive, effortlessly cool yet razor-sharp, each one brimming with his absolute command over the stage—and the entire audience.
So breathtaking it made people forget to breathe, as if caught in the suffocating grip of the song’s merciless emotion.
Three and a half minutes later, as the final notes faded, the black tie covering Shen Xiu’s eyes began to loosen under the stage lights.
As it slid to the floor, Shen Xiu’s cold, piercing eyes locked straight ahead—staring into the crowd.
The screen froze—”Kill Me” had ended.
A second later, the venue erupted into thunderous applause and the high-pitched screams of Shen Xiu’s fans clutching their hearts.
“Kill me, kill me—ahhhh! Xiu-baby is forever my god!”
“Xiu-baby, go ahead and kill—we Xiuologists will follow you forever!”
“Where can I hire a hitman like Assassin Xiu? I’ll pay, name the price!”
…
The livestream bullet comments were just as frenzied over Shen Xiu’s “Kill Me.”
[Just end me already. That face, those moves—he’s killing me! Mom, someone’s seducing me! Wuwuwu… he’s that cold, ruthless, devastatingly hot dream of a husband I can’t even approach!]
[That one glance when the tie fell… it felt like my soul was sniped and time stopped. Seductive and lethal. The visual impact was unreal—like a scene straight out of a film. Absolutely breathtaking. Legendary.]
[When he brought his index and middle finger together like a gun and aimed blindfolded from his temple at the audience—that was insanely cool. Assassin Xiu went full beast mode today!!!]
[Speaking as someone with years of fangirling experience, Boss Shen absolutely mastered his body in that performance. No way you pull that off without years of serious dance training!]
Hearing the sudden explosive cheers from the crowd, Shen Xiu finally let out a breath of relief.
He bowed to the audience, then, as the lights dimmed, followed protocol and exited the stage, heading to the area set up for contestants who had already performed. He quietly took his seat to watch the rest of the competition.
For once, the production team had done something humane.
The contestants who hadn’t performed yet were kept in a separate room prepared by the show, where they couldn’t see the performances before their turn—keeping their mindset from being shaken.
With no idea how the “opposing side” was performing, every trainee brought a do-or-die intensity to the stage.
Drawing number 2, Zhuang Yi followed with his solo: “Temptation.”
Wearing a black lettered headband and sporting an earful of metal earrings, Zhuang Yi oozed a rebellious, edgy vibe. With a cocked head and a lazy lean, his performance fully embodied the lyrics—radiating the exact aura of a playboy heartbreaker.
Audience reactions came flooding in:
[Too much of a flirt—he’s totally giving off “heart like a durian” vibes. Every spike’s got someone’s name on it!]
[That raspy, “player” tone Yi-baby used while singing was chef’s kiss—I swear he studied ASMR flirt techniques or something ]
[Never expected Yi-baby, who always looked so obedient, to pull off the ‘bad boy’ act this convincingly! Loved it!]
“Temptation” ended.
Next up was Xiang Yueting, performing “Puppy Love.”
With exaggerated movements and quirky expressions, Xiang Yueting managed to pull off a routine that was lively without being over-the-top. His Afro-inspired footwork came across as downright adorable.
His fans—the “Erha (dumb husky)” crowd—were stunned. Known for always chasing a “cool, edgy, dominant” image, Xiang Yueting completely flipped the script in his final solo stage, delivering a performance brimming with contrast and charm.
He may not have been his usual “wild and cool” self—but he didn’t disappoint.
Xiang Yueting radiated the sweet, giddy glow of a guy in love. The “Erha” fans couldn’t stop smiling throughout the performance.
By the time “Puppy Love” ended, the whole audience couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear.
“Ahhhh, Xiang Yueting may be a goofball, but who could resist a silly, affectionate puppy like that? Watching him makes me want to date a fun-loving, dorky little pup like him!”
“This must be fate’s finest joke! For someone like me, who used to live for edgy, over-the-top performances, it’s hilarious that my dear Brother Ha ended up drawing a quirky and cutesy concept. I didn’t see what happened backstage, but I know when he opened that envelope in the practice room, his face had to be the classic ‘subway old man staring at phone.jpg’ meme.”
“Xiang Yueting be like: I may fake being a puppy, but fate—you are the real dog!”
For this final round of the competition, the break between performances had been cut drastically—from the usual half hour to just three minutes.
With his cute stage makeup still on, Xiang Yueting had just made his way over to Shen Xiu and Zhuang Yi when contestant number 4 was announced.
Song Chengwang took the stage next with a jazz-style piece titled “Kiss.”
The spotlight flared. The performance began with the crisp snap of fingers.
As always, Song Chengwang’s stage exuded his distinct personal flair—never formulaic, never dull.
Whether it was the elegant grip of his long fingers around a silver gemstone-encrusted cane, the sharp pop of his shoulders at the peak of a body lock, or the casual backward glance he threw over his shoulder—smooth and restrained, yet effortlessly roguish—
Everything about him was magnetic.
No doubt about it: Song Chengwang’s performance was, as ever, entrancing and intoxicating.
It seemed to whisper unspoken desires—subtle, yet impossible to ignore—making it nearly impossible for the audience to tear their eyes away.
“Kiss” ended.
His fans—known as “Changwang fans”, a homophone for “Intestinal Hope fans” (a pun that somehow stuck)—were all red-eyed, practically climbing into the stage in frustration that Song Chengwang had still refused to take off that damn white shirt in the finals.
[That classy-bad-boy vibe—he’s nailed it. Aaaaah! Brother Wang, just curl your finger and my soul is gone!]
[It’s the finals, Brother Wang! Why didn’t you take the shirt off?! I declare that my good character, my manners, and my self-restraint have all been obliterated in this moment. Brother Wang, I’m coming for you!! (bitter tea seeds flying everywhere)]
[Thanks for the invite—already in the middle of a wild kiss, do not disturb!]
After a brief round of cheering, it was time for the next stage. The audience quickly quieted down, waiting respectfully for the performance to begin.
Next up was contestant number 5: Shang Yu, performing the piece “Shadow.”
A white dress hat. A pure black suit and trousers.
Under the masterful stage lighting, the interplay of black and white created a refined, cinematic elegance—stylish, sharp, and high-end.
Shang Yu hit every beat with precision. His movements, smooth and seamless like flowing water, included perfectly timed freezes that sent chills of satisfaction down viewers’ spines.
It was impossible not to be completely absorbed by his performance.
And then, in a climactic moment, he removed the white hat, revealing the handsome, elegant face that had been hidden all along. As he bowed to end the performance, the final pose mirrored the iconic close of Shen Xiu’s “Kill Me”, drawing stunned gasps and wild screams from Shang Yu’s fanbase, the “Unshakables.”
“White hat, black suit—so elegant, unbelievably elegant. As expected of my President Shang! He never lets me down!”
“AAAAAA this is a crossover, right? It has to be a crossover!”
“Don’t tell me Shen and Shang planned this together?”
“Hmm, feels unlikely… probably just a coincidence.”
[I swear those moves and props weren’t in the original choreography… Shang’s white hat, Shen’s white silk shirt… Shang’s black suit, Shen’s black tie!!! How is this not a deliberate pairing?! This has to be some secret connection only the two of them share!]
[Aaaaah I’m shipping them so hard—WHO GETS IT, GETS IT!!!]
[Sister, I know you’re hyped, but keep it on the down-low—it makes it feel even more deliciously forbidden!]
Following closely as contestant number 6, Mu Zhenchu took the stage with his performance of “Rushing Toward You.”
Under the dazzling lights, Mu Zhenchu threw his head back with unshakable confidence, his sharp features and rugged charm on full display.
It was clear from the outset: Mu Zhenchu was not one for polished technique or textbook-perfect choreography.
His dance—like his voice—carried a bold, untamed energy that was uniquely his own.
On stage, he radiated the aura of a wild, uninhibited king. Precision was irrelevant.
What mattered was the unrelenting fire in his presence, a wildness that intoxicated the audience.
Mu Zhenchu’s performance of “Rushing Toward You” ended in a blaze of frenzied emotion.
His fanbase, known as “Unshaken at Heart,” matched his energy beat for beat, their sheer enthusiasm nearly lifting the roof off the venue.
Their chants were so synchronized, it felt less like a concert and more like a military drill:
“Mu Zhenchu! Mu Zhenchu! Unshaken at Heart, let confidence shine bright!”
“Chu-baby is the coolest! Blowing the roof off the place!”
Performance 7.
Ning Sinian took the stage next, having drawn the piece he was most skilled at—an elegant classical dance titled “Dreamscape.”
He appeared in flowing garments inspired by the Dunhuang Feitian style, ethereal and poetic.
Soft music. A lilting melody. Gossamer-thin silk robes.
His gentle but powerful movements carried a resilient grace.
Every note he sang, every light-footed leap and graceful spin, exuded an almost celestial beauty.
His fans, known as “Longing for Sinian” (a poetic pun on his name), were just like him—restrained and gentle.
After “Dreamscape” ended, their cheers were the softest of the night, replaced instead with warm applause and tender words of encouragement.
“Niannian, we’ll always support you!”
“In our hearts, you’ll always be the best!”
“One dance moved my soul! Niannian forever god!”
Number 8 was Xia Wenhao, who brought the house to life again with his high-energy rhythm and groove in “Choice.”
No flashy costumes.
No forced mimicry of the original choreography.
On stage, the rhythmic rap pulsed in perfect sync with Xia Wenhao’s dance moves.
His movements seemed casual, almost effortless, yet they radiated a flawless groove.
With every motion, the muscles in his arms—exposed by his sleeveless top—traced clean, powerful arcs.
The chill vibe, laid-back vocal tone, crisp diction, and steady, rich timbre…
Whether it was his voice or his flow, everything about it felt refined and high-class.
It sounded so good, it could’ve been a live studio recording.
[Wow!!! Brother Hao really owns this “I-don’t-care-who-you-are-but-I’m-that-guy” vibe!]
[Even from far away, I didn’t need subtitles—I could hear every word Brother Hao rapped clearly. Unlike others who sound like mumbling messes without subtitles—come worship my Brother Hao already!]
[No diss this, no diss that. I’m so tired of all the explosive flexing. I just love this smooth, easy-to-listen-to vibe!]
Finally, number 9, Jiang Yanxi, took the stage with his performance of “Mermaid Prince.”
An ethereal voice.
A richly detailed, flamboyant costume and makeup design bursting with bold color contrasts.
The soft redness at the corners of his eyes when he lifted his gaze to sing, making him look heartbreakingly delicate.
His choreography—filled with emotional tension and struggling, pulling gestures…
Together, it created a dreamlike and tragic fantasy world—like a fairytale dipped in sorrow, a glimpse into another realm.
[From Xi-baby’s despairing gaze and shattered expressions, I could feel the mermaid prince’s anguish as he fled the human world and dove into the green sea. I’m sobbing, it’s just too heartbreaking!]
[Is no one going to mention the makeup and styling? It was amazing! He did it all himself without a makeup artist provided by the show—his skills are incredible!]
Amid the audience’s passionate applause and cheers, the first round of solo stages in the final night came to a close.
He Ting was lifted onto the stage by the mechanical arm platform, and without any preamble, he loudly announced to the entire audience:
“The first round of performances is officially over. Will our nine trainees please return to the stage to receive votes from both the live audience and viewers watching the livestream!”
Thirty seconds later, the nine contestants who had just completed their solo performances stood once again beneath the stage lights.
He Ting continued,
“Voting will begin shortly. To ensure everyone has time to make the choice they truly want, we’ll give you five minutes starting now to recall each of the nine solo performances.”
He Ting understood that among both the live and streaming audiences, there were solo stans, and there were all-rounder fans who supported everyone.
But at this stage, these nine were direct competitors. Viewers were forced to make a single, definitive choice—voting for one meant not voting for the others.
And not being chosen could be the difference between making it into the top three… or missing out entirely.
“Remember—among the nine on stage, you only have one vote!”
Hmm