Chapter 112: Class
After finishing his performance, Shen Xiu heard the WeChat notification sound from the phone face-down on the table.
Who would be looking for him at this time?
Although tonight’s class was over, the teacher hadn’t given feedback yet, so Shen Xiu didn’t check his phone.
Since they were in the same room, Sun Yue naturally heard the notification too.
Seeing that Shen Xiu merely glanced at his phone without picking it up, Sun Yue grew even more pleased with him.
Despite Shen Xiu’s superb acting skills, he wasn’t arrogant at all. He took class seriously and respected the teacher. As long as class wasn’t over, he wouldn’t look at his phone even once.
To help Shen Xiu see the message sooner, Sun Yue sped up the feedback session.
Though it was called feedback, there wasn’t much to comment on, so it ended quickly.
Once finished, Sun Yue said, “That’s it for today’s class. Go ahead and check your phone.”
Shen Xiu replied apologetically, “Alright, thank you, Teacher.”
Looks like he should turn off his phone next time—he’d interrupted class.
Shen Xiu opened WeChat and saw the message from Shang Yu, looking puzzled.
Why did Shang Yu suddenly say that?
Although he was the group leader, he didn’t think the disbanding of The Galaxy was something he alone could decide. Everyone was part of The Galaxy—it should be a group decision.
Shen Xiu tapped quickly on the keyboard and typed out a few words.
Shen Xiu: If everyone’s willing, then no, we won’t.
Shang Yu: Alright.
Shang Yu: Mind if I screenshot this and share it in the group?
Shen Xiu: I don’t mind.
Shang Yu: OK.
After finishing his chat with Shen Xiu, Shang Yu took a screenshot of their conversation and posted it in the group chat to reassure the teammates who were anxious about funding, including Song Chengwang.
After all, it had already been ten minutes since Shang Yu sent the message, and Shen Xiu only replied after that. It was clear he had given it careful thought.
Even after careful consideration, Shen Xiu still put everyone first. As long as the others wanted The Galaxy to continue, then the group that belonged to them would never disband.
When Song Chengwang saw the screenshot Shang Yu posted in the group chat, he immediately replied with an exclamation mark.
The other members who saw it followed suit, replying in a row of exclamation marks like a formation.
Jiang Yanxi, after reading the messages in the group, finally let out a breath of relief. Though he had remained silent all along, Youth Unstoppable was the most popular show he had participated in since his debut—and the one that gave him the most recognition. He truly didn’t want the group to disband.
If the group disbanded, he would really be left with nothing.
Captain Xiu put the wishes of all the members above everything else. It turns out they meant even more to him than they had imagined.
—
On Thursday, Shen Xiu attended class as usual.
During the last public lecture of the afternoon, with just five minutes left before it ended, the students in the tiered lecture hall noticed someone “fully armed” standing just outside the classroom.
The outfit stood out in a school setting. Though the person’s face was completely covered, the extreme effort to stay hidden only made them more eye-catching.
“That getup? Who is that?”
“Tch, clearly you don’t follow celebrities. Anyone who dresses like that—even if they’re not super famous—has to be at least some sort of celebrity. You just can’t tell who it is because their face is covered.”
“A celebrity at our school? Here to see… no way, could they be here for Shen Xiu?”
“That’s weird. Even when Boss Xiu comes to class, he’s never this secretive. Is this person even more high-profile than our Boss Xiu?”
“Who knows. Showing up like this, with no one accompanying them, probably means they’re not that big a star. Maybe some D-list celeb… or wait, could it be someone from that nine-member group?”
Hearing that comment, a nearby “Xiuologist” leaned in.
In a hushed but confident voice, they said, “There’s absolutely no way it’s one of Captain Xiu’s teammates. I trust the character of the nine-member group—they would never do something that could cause a crowd and still come to the school to look for Boss Xiu.”
A student sitting in the front row, who had been eavesdropping, chimed in, “+1!”
“+10000.”
“+1 with my ID number.”
“+License plate number.”
With that one statement, a whole group of Xiuologists revealed themselves.
A student sitting on the edge of the group spoke quietly, “Never thought I’d accidentally stumble into a Xiuologist fan meet… Also, why didn’t I see any of you here during the last lecture?”
At this, the Xiuologists went silent for a few seconds before replying sheepishly.
“To be honest, I snuck in just to audit the class.”
“Same here.”
“Me too…”
The public lecture hall was big, with lots of students. Most people liked sitting toward the back, and since the room was large and the teacher usually didn’t bother with quiet chatter, it was easy to go unnoticed.
Because the classroom was so large and had plenty of seats, the Xiuologists at school—who had only ever seen Shen Xiu from a distance—were always intimidated by his cold, untouchable aura. They never dared approach or speak to him.
They couldn’t talk to him, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t get close.
As for required and elective courses, most had long given up trying to register for the same ones as Shen Xiu. Instead, they tacitly agreed to stake out public lectures.
Even if they weren’t officially enrolled in the same public lecture as Shen Xiu, they could always sneak in.
Some elective teachers didn’t allow unauthorized attendees, but the public lecture instructors never minded.
That’s why, every time Shen Xiu had a public class, the room was always packed to the brim.
At the same time, Shen Xiu, who was attending the public lecture, was horrified to discover that he could no longer claim a seat in the back row. The classroom was too full. The only spot consistently left for him now was the center seat in the front row.
At this moment, seated in that front-row center seat, Shen Xiu, like everyone else, noticed the “fully armed” stranger at the front entrance of the classroom.
The stranger was peeking in from the hallway, seemingly searching for someone.
Shen Xiu never thought anyone would come to the school looking for him, so he didn’t associate the masked, cap-wearing, sunglass-covered figure at the door with himself at all. He only gave a casual glance before turning his focus back to the teacher’s PowerPoint.
Only by immersing himself in the sea of knowledge could Shen Xiu ignore the stares of his classmates that made him feel like needles were prickling his back.
Unquestionably, to the Xiuologists, Shen Xiu’s charm far outweighed that of the suspicious-looking stranger outside the door.
The ones in the back rows glanced curiously at the figure for less than a minute before shifting their eyes back to Shen Xiu’s back.
“No wonder he’s Boss Xiu. Even the back of his head is so attractive!”
“Even his silhouette is pleasing to look at. He doesn’t even feel like he exists in the same dimension as us—his aesthetic is on another level!”
A nearby, non-fan student couldn’t help but ask, “Uh… this is a flower arranging class. Why is Shen Xiu studying so seriously?”
Upon hearing this, the Xiuologists responded almost in unison, “Study God Xiu never stops grinding!”
The student: “…”
Even their whispering was perfectly synchronized—she started to suspect the Xiuologists had gone through group training.
At the front entrance, Lin Jiashi noticed Shen Xiu glance his way. Just as he raised his hand to wave, he saw Shen Xiu immediately look away and refocus on the flower arrangement slides.
Lin Jiashi: “…”
He’s doing this on purpose, isn’t he!?
As Lin Jiashi waited anxiously, the bell signaling the end of class finally rang.
After class, there was always a line at the cafeteria. To avoid the crowd, you had to leave quickly. Students began rising from their seats and slowly filed out of the classroom.
On their way out, many instinctively glanced at the still-standing, fully-covered figure lingering just outside the classroom door.
Shen Xiu, wary of crowds, deliberately moved more slowly as he packed up, his motions unhurried. As he tidied his books and pens, he kept sneaking glances at the classroom door from the corner of his eye.
He was waiting for the right moment—once fewer people were around, he’d make his move and slip out.
Finally, when only a handful of students remained, Shen Xiu seized the opportunity. Grabbing his books, he strode toward the exit.
Just as he was about to step out, the “fully armed” stranger suddenly blocked his way.
Shen Xiu: “?”
He glanced at the doorway—wide enough for two people to pass through—and stepped sideways to walk past on the open side.
But just as he moved, the stranger blocked him again, this time placing both hands on either side of the doorway, firmly cutting off the front exit.
The moment’s hesitation allowed other students to catch up. The gap Shen Xiu had carefully timed to escape through was gone, and now a group of nine students was also blocked at the front door.
Shen Xiu: “?”
He didn’t get it.
There was a weirdo in front of him, and a group of students behind him, all stuck. Shen Xiu stood in the middle, frustrated and mentally shutting down from missing his perfect exit window.
Curious eyes from behind fell on Shen Xiu and the mysterious figure who had inexplicably blocked the door. In that moment, gossip seemed more appealing than food. Without a word, the students remained still, none trying to leave via the back door.
Since no one behind him said anything, Shen Xiu assumed they were all waiting for him—the one at the front—to speak up. So he asked the stranger earnestly:
“Are you okay?”
Finally, Shen Xiu acknowledged him. Lin Jiashi removed his mask and sunglasses, looked up, and spoke:
“…Shen Xiu, we need to talk.”
