Big Shot Ch.23

Chapter 23: Preparations for the First Performance (3)

Hearing the people around them whispering confirmed it—Shen Xiu’s gaze had indeed been on him at first:

“Wasn’t your gaze on me at the beginning?”

He had just been a second too slow to lift his head. He didn’t meet Shen Xiu’s eyes, and Shen Xiu gave up on him, choosing the most inconspicuous person in Class F—the one he had never even spared a glance at before, the “Mushroom.”

Lin Jiashi couldn’t really understand it.

His words brought an eerie silence to the air.

Under this suffocating tension, Lin Jiashi steeled himself and forced himself to meet Shen Xiu’s cold and sharp gaze.

Before coming, he had thought it through: questioning Shen Xiu today—no matter how Shen Xiu responded—just getting screen time with him would increase his recognition. Either way, he’d gain something.

At worst, the audience would say he had low emotional intelligence but was straightforward and blunt.

A stubborn beauty who doesn’t know how to be subtle? That’s a whole aesthetic. Buffs stacked, character persona complete.

When it comes to elimination by vote after the performance stage, only the trainees with no standout traits, no buzz, and no popularity will be forgotten and eliminated.

As long as more viewers remember him—no matter how—he wins. Negative fame is still fame.

Shen Xiu: “……”

After the initial shock came inexplicable questioning. Shen Xiu’s brain and body shut down at the same time, freezing him on the spot.

[Lin Jiashi is really reckless—stormed over angrily to ask this, and the question even has loopholes. He must’ve been too fired up to think things through. He really knows how to create awkwardness.]

[But… as the center and team leader, can’t he choose whoever he wants? Does he have to explain it to the person he didn’t choose? What does Lin Jiashi think of Zhuang Yi’s team, who ended up picking him in the end? Poor Zhuang Yi, what a scapegoat.]

[Did no one else notice us frantically spamming the bullet comments? Even though we knew Boss Xiu couldn’t see them, the moment Lin Jiashi suddenly rounded the corner and came face to face with him, Boss Xiu looked completely calm, like he had expected it all along—not even a bit startled.]

[How is Boss Xiu going to answer this? No matter how you look at it, this feels like a huge trap. But wow, the atmosphere is so awkward. His gaze has gone cold—he’s definitely not happy inside.]

Lin Jiashi: “……”

Damn it. It had been a full eight seconds already. Shen Xiu’s frosty stare was about to freeze him into shards of ice—why couldn’t he just say something?

He’s doing this on purpose, isn’t he?

Every second felt like a year to Lin Jiashi.

Shen Xiu took a few seconds to mentally compose himself before he managed to recover from the shock and confusion. Looking at Lin Jiashi standing in front of him, he still couldn’t quite figure out why he would even ask such a question.

After all, he had never considered Lin Jiashi as a teammate from the very beginning.

But since Lin Jiashi had asked, Shen Xiu gathered his thoughts and, still wearing a stiff expression, answered truthfully:

“I saw Ying Zi’ang’s effort, his sense of conviction, and his emotional stability.”

Even knowing his dancing didn’t look great, Ying Zi’ang had kept going without stopping—that sense of determination was real. And his composure? Also legit.

Someone like that had real potential for stage presence development.

Phew… That was a long sentence. Finally got it out—well done!

System: [Wow, sounded almost convincing.]

Shen Xiu: […] I can’t deal with this system—it’s always out to sabotage me.

Lin Jiashi: “……”

Got it.

This was clearly a subtle jab at the two things he did wrong—slacking off that day and skipping Shen Xiu’s class, and then totally losing it during the AI assessment and smashing his headphones.

And that last part—Shen Xiu left early that day.

So who blabbed and told him about the headphone incident!?

‘He’s more suited for my team than you.’

‘Because you didn’t look at me, you missed my gaze, so I chose him.’

‘Why should I tell you the reason?’

‘What position do you have to question me?’

Before going to find Shen Xiu, Lin Jiashi had imagined many possible answers, but he never expected that Shen Xiu would respond with this one.

Every word felt completely unrelated to him, as though he had never even considered him.

Lin Jiashi clenched his hand into a fist at his side, his expression stubborn. He bit his lower lip and slowly lowered his head.

From the live stream camera’s angle, Lin Jiashi looked like a poor little beast, dejected and unwilling to admit defeat after being abandoned.

…He had already answered, so why was he still blocking his path?

Shen Xiu was speechless.

[Boss Xiu’s expression is still as cold as ever, not at all affected by Lin Jiashi’s pitiful appearance. This… Lin Jiashi must be feeling pretty miserable inside.]

[I accidentally clicked on this and have to say something—what Boss Xiu said doesn’t seem wrong. Who is this Lin Jiashi, acting all aggrieved and blocking his way?]

[Exactly, if it were me, I’d choose the person who works hard for the team, too. They don’t have to be great, but at least they have the right attitude. I’m with Boss Xiu on picking Ying Zi’ang.]

Shen Xiu thought to himself that he probably didn’t have the courage to wake up someone who was so determined to block his way.

He couldn’t provoke him, so he’d just take a detour.

When he brushed past Lin Jiashi, Shen Xiu suddenly remembered something. He quickly looked up and, as his eyes met the camera ahead, his gaze sharpened, and he stopped in his tracks.

[Why did he suddenly stop? Is Boss Xiu going back to comfort Lin Jiashi?]

[Damn, that sudden cold gaze after he looked up—absolutely chilling!]

[Don’t comfort him. It was Lin Jiashi who didn’t consider Boss Xiu’s situation and still asked. If anyone was harsh, it was Lin Jiashi first—he doesn’t deserve any sympathy.]

Staring at the camera, Shen Xiu suddenly remembered that the small section of the hallway he had walked through after his individual interview didn’t have any cameras.

The part where Lin Jiashi suddenly appeared and blocked his way was directly in front of a camera.

Anger made Shen Xiu blurt out his words, and his voice unconsciously took on a chilly tone:

“Lin Jiashi.”

Lin Jiashi, who had been anxiously wondering why Shen Xiu had just walked away, suddenly heard Shen Xiu’s voice.

“W-what’s wrong?” Was he going to comfort him?

Lin Jiashi’s voice trembled with a clear hint of choking.

Shen Xiu: “Your question wasn’t very precise.”

“Huh?”

Lin Jiashi was confused. Shen Xiu’s cold tone gave him a sense of foreboding.

Controlled by his anger, Shen Xiu’s words came out quickly, becoming extremely aggressive.

“Be more precise. That question, you should have asked, ‘Why is it Ying Zi’ang, and not any other member from our Class F?’ Instead of ‘Why is it Ying Zi’ang, and not me?’”

“By hiding the individual behind the group, you’re fishing for a reputation for standing up for Class F, aren’t you? You think the viewers in the live stream will have a better, deeper impression of you, hmm?”

The purpose behind his question was ruthlessly exposed, and Lin Jiashi felt a chill run through him.

Shen Xiu: “Next time, think it through before you ask.”

“And I never considered you. My gaze simply swept past you and landed on Ying Zi’ang. From the very start, your question was invalid.”

Being manipulated and treated like a fool made Shen Xiu furious. He was usually quiet and reserved, and in large groups, he often felt nervous and hesitant to speak, worried he might say something wrong or stutter. But that didn’t mean he was stupid. It didn’t mean he couldn’t argue back.

System: [So you’re not the kind of person who can’t say a word unless beaten three times with a stick—one hit and you explode.]

After releasing his verbal attack, Shen Xiu’s mind buzzed.

Did he just argue?

Thinking back… hmm, it went pretty well.

He was making progress!

Before Lin Jiashi could recover, Shen Xiu decided to leave. If Lin Jiashi came to his senses and continued the argument, and he ended up messing up, stuttering because he was too nervous—it would be a huge embarrassment.

Shen Xiu wasn’t in the mood to deal with the system. He took his eyes off the camera and moved his stiff legs to leave the hallway.

He… he predicted everything!

Shen Xiu’s cold, aggressive words left Lin Jiashi frozen in place. Lin Jiashi couldn’t recover until Shen Xiu’s figure disappeared from sight.

[Holy crap!!! The look Boss Xiu gave when he suddenly looked up at the camera—who can understand that? I got scared just watching it through the camera! Even though we were watching from a distance, I felt like his cold and sharp eyes were locking with mine!]

[Boss Xiu’s tone was so casual, yet every word hit the mark. I didn’t expect each line to land like a fatal strike. The last one? Pure soul-crushing—haha, Lin Jiashi was completely stunned. That “Hmm?” was a rhetorical question packed with cold, heartless mockery and a strong warning. Brilliant!]

[I finally get what’s off about Lin Jiashi. Thinking back, how many times has Boss Xiu actually spoken to him? Not many, right? So why does Lin Jiashi always act like he’s super familiar with Boss Xiu in front of the other trainees? Honestly, I’m feeling so refreshed listening to this! Let’s go, Boss Xiu!]

[Boss Xiu: Heh, foolish.]

[When I first heard Xia Wenhao say, “I’m not gonna just ride your coattails and take advantage of you,” I knew something was up. How could anyone be so out of it that they end up in the less-crowded Class A? Always acting awkward, unlike Xia Wenhao who’s so bold and straightforward. The difference between being dead last and the top spot is glaring, right? Don’t make it so obvious.]

Yu Xiangwan had just finished organizing her things in the interview room and when she looked up, she almost had a heart attack seeing someone standing at the corner.

She patted her chest and asked, “Lin Jiashi, what are you doing here?”

Shouldn’t he be in the practice room with his new teammates, getting familiar with the songs?

Hearing her voice, Lin Jiashi snapped back to reality.

He had to admit, this time… he messed up.

Lin Jiashi forced out a stiff smile, “Nothing, nothing at all. Goodbye, sister.” With that, he quickly turned and left the hallway.

He couldn’t even imagine how the live stream viewers were seeing him right now.

—

When he reached the door of “Team Shen Xiu,” Shen Xiu’s mind finally returned to its usual state. He became the same old Shen Xiu, retreating into his “shell” once more. Even knocking on the door required him to take three seconds to mentally prepare himself.

System: [You sure know how to make a quick comeback.]

Shen Xiu: [More like, the cooldown time after dropping my big attack is just a bit too long.]

The door to the practice room opened, and the eight people inside instinctively turned to look at the door. They locked eyes with Shen Xiu’s cold expression, his gaze indifferent, as if he didn’t care about anything.

No matter how many times they saw him, they could never look him in the eye for long.

In fact, even when they saw Shen Xiu’s tight-lipped, cold expression, it took courage just to speak to him.

Some awkwardly greeted him, others forced out stiff smiles.

“Y-You’re back.”

“The card is on the multimedia table.”

Shen Xiu awkwardly responded, “Mm.”

Hearing Shen Xiu’s indifferent response, the atmosphere became even more awkward. For a moment, no one knew what to say, and they all looked away, either staring out the window or pretending to be busy by looking down.

No one was paying attention to him anymore, and Shen Xiu’s heart gradually relaxed. He couldn’t help but show off to the system, [Look at the good teammates I picked!]

Finally able to look around the room with a lighter mood, Shen Xiu noticed that Xiang Yueting wasn’t there, which made him feel even more at ease. He walked towards the multimedia table with a cheerful stride.

At the multimedia equipment table, Shen Xiu lowered his gaze and saw the title of the song, “Blood Romance” written on the card.

In his confusion, a sense of foreboding began to rise.

[Haha, “Blood Romance”? Is it the same one I’m thinking of? Haha, I think the show crew is deliberately making things difficult for Boss Xiu, and I have proof!]

[LMAO. I remember the author of “Blood Romance” said it was a death song, but I prefer calling it a ‘social death song.’ Haha!]

[Curious, is it really that bad? I’m going to check it out.]

A few minutes later, the viewers who were curious enough to check out the details of the song returned.

[All I can say is: my eyes, my poor eyes!]

[It was so painful to watch, just three and a half minutes long, and it had me curling my toes into the ground. Mom, you no longer need to worry about me sleeping on the streets!]

[Whoever wrote this devilish song, I feel for Boss Xiu. Even he can’t save this one.]

Bang!

The door to the room was pushed open from the outside, and Xiang Yueting’s figure appeared in the doorway.

Xiang Yueting immediately spotted the tall figure standing by the multimedia table. He walked in, holding something in his arms, and placed it on the table nearby.

Xiang Yueting didn’t forget to say to Shen Xiu, “I went to scout the enemy over at Song Chengwang’s team. Damn it, he actually tricked me into talking. After he found out our group’s song was Blood Romance, he laughed so hard he was crowing like a rooster.”

“What’s worse is that when I was leaving, he even patted me on the shoulder and told me to ‘pray for myself’—I was totally baffled.”

Why did he even bother telling him that? Shen Xiu didn’t know how to respond, so he just gave a simple, “Oh.”

Still, after hearing Xiang Yueting’s words, Shen Xiu’s gaze fell once again on the pure black card with the words Blood Romance, and that ominous feeling in his chest grew even heavier.

“You walk too fast.” Zhou Tong appeared in the doorway, arms full of stuff, complaining to Xiang Yueting. After grumbling, he spotted Shen Xiu and instinctively straightened up his usually lazy posture.

“Shen Xiu, you’re back.”

“Mm.” Shen Xiu responded, still unused to people greeting him by name so directly. To avoid Zhou Tong’s gaze, he let his eyes drop to the items in Zhou Tong’s arms.

A pile of bottles, jars, and things still in packaging—what were those?

Zhou Tong hurried to explain: “These are things I asked the program crew for after seeing the song we got for the performance.”

As he spoke, he set everything down on the table, then said a little sheepishly, “I thought… maybe we’ll need them.”

Shen Xiu was stunned. He had been in the show this long and it was the first time he realized you could actually ask the crew for supplies. He looked at Zhou Tong with a gaze full of admiration.

In his heart, he sighed again—at least when it came to teammates, fate had treated him kindly!

Zhou Tong: “…”

‘Uh oh… Did I say something wrong?’

Why did Shen Xiu suddenly give him that chilly look?

Zhou Tong was totally confused and glanced around at the others for help.

The others also quietly shook their heads—how would they know what Shen Xiu was thinking?!

Xiang Yueting, still uneasy after what Song Chengwang said, asked Shen Xiu, “Is this song… scary?”

Shen Xiu started operating the multimedia device, fingers tapping the screen to search for the song: “Let’s watch first.”

Hearing that, everyone in the room automatically moved to sit cross-legged in front of the big screen mounted on the wall.

Shen Xiu clicked play for a three-second delay, then stepped off the platform and sat down to the side.

Zhou Tong, who had coincidentally seen the original Blood Romance MV before coming to this show, quietly closed the practice room door and sat in the back row—to minimize eye damage.

Three and a half minutes later, the MV finished playing.

As the visuals and music from just now lingered in their minds, the silence in the room was deafening. No one spoke.

Shen Xiu sat off to the side, frozen in place, staring blankly at the screen as the MV began automatically replaying a second time, questioning his entire existence.

The lyrics were good. The atmosphere it tried to convey was also good. But… can someone explain to him why one song would feature werewolves, vampires, zombies, the undead, clowns, magicians, demons—all at once?!

What kind of chaotic stew was this?!

Shen Xiu just wanted to ask: Is the songwriter okay, mentally?

No—the person who picked this song as a stage performance piece—are they really okay mentally?!

“Achoo…” At that very moment, behind the scenes, the young lead director suddenly sneezed. “Who—who’s thinking about me?”

The assistant director, recalling the chaotic and elaborate audition program the director had planned out, muttered internally: ‘Thinking about you? You wish. More like cursing you.’

—

In the practice room, Shen Xiu continued to stare at the still-playing MV, completely shutting down mentally.

No wonder the production team said this was the hardest song—Shen Xiu now seriously suspected he must’ve committed some great sin in his past life.

By the third replay of the MV, the group members couldn’t take it anymore. Their eyes, their mental state—everything had been viscerally assaulted. If this went on any longer, their toes were going to dig a hole through the floorboards.

But… Shen Xiu hadn’t spoken up. He didn’t say to stop the video.

So they didn’t dare touch anything.

Even as the sheer cringe of Blood Romance made their scalps tingle and souls nearly detach from their bodies, they kept sneaking glances at Shen Xiu.

And they saw—Shen Xiu’s expression was completely neutral, eyes fixed seriously on the MV, not a single trace of awkwardness or secondhand embarrassment on his face.

The team members: “……”

They’d underestimated him.

It wasn’t the song that was too strong—it was them who were too weak. Look at Shen Xiu! Watching intently, as if there was nothing even remotely weird about the song at all.

Even though… this MV was clearly severely ill. A full-on terminal case of chronic edgelord syndrome.

But could they say it wasn’t music? No! As long as you approached it with a devout love for the stage and for music, with a thirst for artistic exploration—what’s there to be embarrassed about?!

As Shen Xiu’s teammates, they couldn’t bring shame to their team leader!

With this mindset, everyone in Team Shen Xiu lifted their heads with determination, forcing themselves to look squarely at the fourth replay of the MV.

Three seconds later, each one of them looked like they’d just bit into a lemon soaked in despair—their faces twisted, each automatically equipped with a full set of “painful expression” gear.

[Are… are they okay? Mentally?]

[What is this cursed madness?! Even my edgy teenage phase wasn’t this cringe. This has to be psychological warfare, right? RIGHT??]

[This MV unlocked a trauma I buried deep from my old-school “emo bangs and keyboard smash username” phase. I am not okay.]

By the eighth time the MV played, Shen Xiu’s soul finally returned to his body. In that moment, he finally understood what the phrase “a dance of demons” truly meant.

He even had the sudden urge to call a psychiatric hospital on behalf of the idols featured in the MV.

Head-to-toe embarrassment making his scalp tingle and his feet go numb, Shen Xiu stepped forward and finally shut down the MV of chaos and madness.

The moment the screen went dark, the group collectively let out a silent exhale of relief, slapping their numb faces with a dazed, “life is meaningless” expression.

If they had to endure it one more time, they might’ve actually passed out from secondhand embarrassment.

And the worst part? This song… was going to be their debut performance track.

Each one of them suddenly questioned if living was still worth it.

Could they… actually win with this kind of song?!

[It’s finally over! One more playthrough and I swear I would’ve blacklisted this livestream.]

[Shen Xiu’s mental fortitude… I have to give it to him.]

[This… this is the mindset of a true boss. No matter how cursed the content is, he can just keep watching like it’s nothing.]

The livestream chat was flooded with “RESPECT” emotes and messages.

—

Meanwhile—

Back in Zhuang Yi’s team practice room.

Lin Jiashi returned, face pale, eyes dull.

Zhuang Yi looked up and asked, “Where’d you go?”

Lin Jiashi forced out a stiff smile. “Sorry, Brother Zhuang, something came up. I stepped out for a bit. My bad.”

Zhuang Yi looked him over. The guy’s face was as white as a ghost and his smile was pure strain. All he’d done was ask a simple question—why did Lin Jiashi look like he’d just been mentally destroyed?

Zhuang Yi softened his tone. “It’s fine. Just wanted to say—next time let us know if you’re leaving. We were doing a headcount and didn’t see you, that’s all.”

Lin Jiashi nodded quickly. “Yeah, I understand. It was my fault.”

Zhuang Yi didn’t say anything more to Lin Jiashi. He walked over to the multimedia station, glanced at the rest of the team, and said, “Now that everyone’s here, let’s watch the stage performance piece we drew. We’ll discuss it afterward.”

“Okay!”

Inside the practice room, the members of Zhuang Yi’s team sat quietly, eyes fixed on the screen.

Lin Jiashi sat in the back row, and his gaze couldn’t help but drift away from the screen to the eight other members in the room. Back in Class F, he had absolute confidence that he was the most eye-catching one.

With his sharp fashion sense, a knack for playing to the camera, and his ability to stir up harmless hot topics and buzz, his skills were passable.

Even Ke Zi’an—the only one in Class F with a unique trait and a cute face—had merely served as his foil and never once outshined him.

But now, in this new group, aside from his deliberately dyed pink-and-white hair, his abilities were completely unremarkable.

No—this was just one misstep. It’s no big deal. He couldn’t let himself spiral just because of it!

“Lin Jiashi… Lin Jiashi?” Zhuang Yi frowned and called his name a few times.

A trainee in front of him had to turn around and nudge him before Lin Jiashi finally snapped out of it. He looked up and met Zhuang Yi’s furrowed brow, confused. “Huh…?”

Zhuang Yi repeated, “Do you have any thoughts?”

Lin Jiashi was even more flustered. He glanced at the screen and realized the MV had already finished playing—he had no idea when.

He had been too caught up thinking about how to make a comeback. He hadn’t paid attention at all. What thoughts could he possibly have? Still, he forced himself to speak: “I…”

Clack!

The door banged as Song Chengwang knocked urgently from outside. Without waiting for a response, he twisted the handle and barged into the practice room, cutting Lin Jiashi off.

“Zhuang Yi, come on! Let’s go check out the chaos at Shen Xiu’s group—it’s gonna be a show!”

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