Chapter 101.2: Group Practice
Mu Zhenchu: Sorry, everyone… I just tried to request leave, but it didn’t get approved. [kneeling.gif]
After sending the message, Mu Zhenchu clutched his phone anxiously, thinking about Shen Xiu’s perfectionist tendencies and his cold demeanor, growing more uneasy by the second.
Everyone else was available — he was the only one who wasn’t. He didn’t want to hold up the group, but being under Qinghe Entertainment meant he was constantly restricted. Whatever the company or his manager told him to do, he had to do.
Ever since leaving the training camp, he’d hardly had a moment to rest.
The company booked him for endless gigs — if he wasn’t singing and dancing at someone’s wedding, he was doing it in front of a new store opening.
Mu Zhenchu was exhausted to the point of wanting to die.
Shen Xiu read through everyone’s replies. Apart from Mu Zhenchu, everyone had agreed to meet at Xiang Yueting’s dance studio.
Shen Xiu: Then let’s meet tomorrow at 9 a.m. at Xiang Yueting’s dance studio.
Shen Xiu: After we split the parts tomorrow, I’ll send you your portion. When you’re free, come find me, and we’ll practice together. @Mu Zhenchu
That was the best solution Shen Xiu could think of.
Since Mu Zhenchu couldn’t train with everyone, as the team leader, Shen Xiu felt it was his responsibility to record the group’s practice. Once Mu Zhenchu had time, he could come over, and they’d rehearse together using the video.
Seeing Shen Xiu’s arrangement, Mu Zhenchu took a deep breath, holding back the urge to cry as he replied.
After sending the message, he collapsed backward, placing his phone on the ground and burying his head in his hands, tugging at his hair in frustration.
He still had three years left on his contract with Qinghe Entertainment.
Maybe… he should just quit the group?
Shen Xiu and the other members were so good to him. This was their first group-exclusive performance — an important milestone — and even those who were busy made time to attend. Only he couldn’t show up. He felt like he was letting them down.
Click.
The sound of the door opening cut through his thoughts. Mu Zhenchu looked up to see Lin Jiashi leaning casually against the doorway, watching him.
When Lin Jiashi saw Mu Zhenchu glance over, he spoke: “President Liu and his friend are chatting in the office. When I walked out, I heard his friend say he really likes your ‘type.’ You sure you don’t want to go try your luck?”
Mu Zhenchu frowned, disgust written clearly on his face.
“No, thanks.”
He meant it.
After the collapse of “Breathy Voice,” Lin Jiashi had quickly latched onto another executive at the company — something Mu Zhenchu hadn’t expected.
What shocked him even more was that lately, Lin Jiashi had been bizarrely eager to introduce him to various rich clients and company higher-ups, acting like a total lunatic.
“Tsk, still trying to act all high and mighty? Duan Mingfei was a complete amateur back then, like a dog barely getting by, and he still debuted as the center. Then he switched tracks and landed a male lead role out of nowhere as an actor. If he hadn’t run into Shen Xiu, he might have become known as a ‘serious actor.’ Don’t you envy that?”
Mu Zhenchu had no interest in talking to Lin Jiashi. “No.”
He threw out that one word and stood up to leave the room.
Seeing Mu Zhenchu’s completely unmoved expression, Lin Jiashi spoke softly as Mu Zhenchu brushed past him: “Don’t be so naive.”
“Do you think you’re Shen Xiu?”
“Or Shang Yu, Song Chengwang? Xia Wenhao? Ha, those guys are all rich. Getting into the entertainment industry is just a game to them. Once they’re done playing, they go home and inherit the family fortune.”
“Let’s be real — you’re not even as good as that idiot Xiang Yueting. At least he has his own dance studio. Ning Sinian has trained in dance for years and could get into a state-sponsored art troupe. And you? What do you have? A three-year contract you can’t escape with Qinghe? You know how short an idol’s shelf life is. If you don’t grab a chance and switch tracks early, in less than three months, you’ll be nothing. Haven’t your recent setbacks taught you that already?”
That hit a nerve. Mu Zhenchu froze in place.
His mind buzzed as he processed Lin Jiashi’s words. After a long pause, he squeezed out a single word: “Oh.”
Then he left.
Watching Mu Zhenchu’s back, Lin Jiashi’s eyes gleamed with a trace of excitement.
He could never hope to match Shen Xiu in this life — nor Shang Yu, Song Chengwang, Xia Wenhao, or even Jiang Yanxi. But Mu Zhenchu, who was in the same company as him?
He could still take him down.
He would make Shen Xiu see — no matter how capable he was as a leader, useless teammates could still drag his entire team into the mud.
—
The next day, at Xiang Yueting’s dance studio.
Among the nine people, Xiang Yueting was the one Shen Xiu was most familiar with, so he dared to arrive at Xiang Yueting’s studio as early as nine o’clock.
At 8:30, when the staff saw Shen Xiu—wearing a mask—appear at the dance studio, they were momentarily stunned before quickly opening the door to let him in.
“Thank you,” Shen Xiu said to the staff member who opened the door for him.
The staff’s voice was filled with excitement. “You’re welcome!”
The other three staff members also excitedly gathered around.
“You’re the first one here, the other bab—uh…”
“Ahem!” One of the staff quickly covered her coworker’s mouth and said with a beaming smile, “What my colleague meant to say is, the others haven’t arrived yet!”
“Yes, yes, that’s exactly what she meant!”
To call Shen Xiu and his teammates ‘babies’ right in front of him—with only those cold, piercing eyes visible above the mask—was way too bold!
With a stiff expression, Shen Xiu endured being surrounded at close range by the enthusiastic staff. Hearing their lively voices, he couldn’t help but sigh inwardly: As expected of Xiang Yueting’s studio—from the boss to the employees, every single one is so outgoing and cheerful.
Shen Xiu nodded. “Got it. Thank you for letting me know.”
Although his voice was still cold, his manner was modest and polite. The staff restrained their impulse to clutch their hearts and raised a hand to point in a direction. “The boss is waiting for you in the innermost room—Room No. 1!”
This dance studio was quite large. Xiang Yueting had rented the adjacent spaces on both sides. To host his teammates today, only the side rooms were receiving guests; the central area was temporarily closed.
“Alright, thank you.”
After getting directions to Xiang Yueting’s location, Shen Xiu expressed his thanks and, in this unfamiliar environment, walked quickly to find the one person he knew—Xiang Yueting.
…
As devoted fans of Shen Xiu, the staff tried hard to stay calm when seeing him in person, but they just couldn’t hold it in. The moment Shen Xiu disappeared from sight, they burst out excitedly.
“No matter how many times I see him, I just have to shout—Xiu-baby is so tall and so handsome! Even with a mask and a baseball cap on, you can immediately tell he’s a total heartthrob!”
“You get me, sister! That’s what you call bone-deep handsomeness~”
“Xiu-baby is so polite. That distant yet courteous vibe you read about in novels? That has to be him, no doubt!”
“I’m dying—there are still people anonymously complaining that Xiu-baby looks down on others? As if that’s even possible!”
…
As the appointed time drew nearer, by 8:53, everyone who could make it had gathered in Dance Studio Room No. 1.
After so many days apart, the group was finally reunited—but one person was missing.
Song Chengwang looked like he wanted to say something, but Shang Yu nudged him with an elbow, and he shut his mouth.
Everyone had worked together during the training camp before. They all understood each other’s strengths and specialties, so when it came time to divide up parts, there was almost no disagreement.
Shen Xiu looked over the assigned parts. They were exactly the same as the ones he had divided up the night before. He let out a breath of relief—this meant he could continue with the plan he’d carefully crafted last night.
As the team leader, Shen Xiu had made a detailed schedule on his computer the previous night and memorized it thoroughly.
Following the plan, Shen Xiu said, “Everyone practice individually for one hour. After that, we’ll rehearse together.”
Everyone: “……”
Truly, this was the king of diligence. After just a few days apart, he came back and went straight into serious practice mode—no small talk, no goofing around, no bonding time whatsoever.
Song Chengwang and Jiang Yanxi exchanged glances. In each other’s eyes, they both saw the same unspoken message: “Keep it a secret.”
The two of them had bumped into each other at an intersection earlier, and while walking over together, they’d even said they were going to make the most of today and have some real fun. Now, looking back—if either of them dared to mention “fun,” Shen Xiu would probably kill them with just a glare!
Let’s just pretend they never said anything on the way here!
After Shen Xiu finished speaking, he noticed everyone was staring at him in unison. He gripped the paper in his hand nervously. “Is there a problem?”
Couldn’t be… His memory almost never failed him.
Hearing that familiar voice of Shen Xiu’s—cool and laced with a subtle threat—everyone was suddenly transported back to those training camp days, overwhelmed by the fear of being ruled by Shen Xiu once again. They all shook their heads in perfect sync.
“N-no problem.”
“We’ll practice right away!”
It had been so long since they’d been “pushed” by King of the Grind Shen, the sudden return of that intense, focused atmosphere actually made them… kind of emotional? Why did they feel like crying from nostalgia?
Everyone dispersed to practice on their own. Shen Xiu finally relaxed, found a corner, and immersed himself in his own training.
They practiced until nine at night. The studio staff had long since gone home, and the surrounding buildings were lit up. Only then did everyone head off in their own directions.
Shen Xiu had initially been worried that after such a long time apart, things might feel awkward between them. But after a full day of practice, everything felt just like old times—no different from how it had been at the training camp. That reassured him, quietly easing his anxiety.
After saying goodbye to everyone, Shen Xiu was the first to leave.
Song Chengwang was the social type. With his parents off traveling, his house was empty, and he had been thinking of crashing at Shen Xiu’s place. But after spending nearly the entire day with the cold and serious Shen Xiu, he didn’t dare bring it up. In the end, he happily decided to crash at Shang Yu’s place instead.
As for why he didn’t go to Xiang Yueting’s? Song Chengwang was afraid he’d shoot his mouth off and end up getting into a fight with Xiang Yueting in the middle of the night—disrupting practice the next day.
As the neon lights outside the window flashed by, Song Chengwang thought back to Shen Xiu’s indifferent expression as he put on his mask and said goodbye. He couldn’t help but turn to look at Shang Yu.
“Guess how long Shen Xiu plans to keep playing this idol game?” Song Chengwang asked. “I mean, we don’t know for sure—we can’t find anything on him—but with his family background, it’s hard to believe he’ll stay an idol forever.”
Shang Yu opened his eyes and glanced at Song Chengwang, answering honestly, “No idea.”
“Why don’t you ask Shen Xiu yourself?”
Song Chengwang shivered. “Yeah, no thanks.”
After saying that, Song Chengwang fell silent. Through this conversation with Shang Yu, he confirmed that they were thinking the same thing—Shen Xiu took everything he did way too seriously. So seriously, in fact, that neither of them could tell whether Shen Xiu saw being an idol as just a phase—something he’d eventually get tired of and walk away from…
Or if he genuinely wanted to be an idol for life.
Because they didn’t know what was going on in Shen Xiu’s mind, they both hesitated to come to any conclusions.
10 p.m. — Shen Xiu returns to Yulin Banxia.
As soon as he got off the bus and started walking toward the entrance of the Yulin Banxia residential complex, Shen Xiu spotted a figure pacing by the gate from a distance.
As he got closer, he recognized the person under the glow of the streetlights.
“Mu Zhenchu?”
Shen Xiu grew a little nervous at the thought of being alone with Mu Zhenchu—someone he wasn’t very familiar with. But it was already so late, and calling Xiang Yueting for moral support would obviously be inappropriate.
Besides, he was a grown man. It was time to handle social interactions on his own!
Still… what was Mu Zhenchu doing here at this hour?
Hearing that familiar voice, Mu Zhenchu’s body stiffened slightly. Then he turned around to face Shen Xiu, giving a sheepish smile and softly said, “Shen Xiu…”
