Amateur talent show? Top mentors are my students.

That accident happened four years ago.

He Xu was twenty years old that year, at the height of his fame.

In the industry, no one dares to disagree when the name "Teacher He" is mentioned.

His private coaching sessions were booked three months ahead of schedule, and several large companies were vying to sign long-term contracts with him. One entertainment company even offered him a seven-figure annual salary to poach him as an art director.

He refused them all.

He Xu said that he was just a dancer and didn't do management.

He remained a trainee in the companion star zone.

During that period, He Xu had more than 30 students under his tutelage, and Shen Yiheng was one of them—by then he had been studying under He Xu for two years and was no longer a complete novice.

Shen Yiheng remembers every detail of that day.

It was a Tuesday evening, and the practice room was still filled with the mixed smell of sweat and sports spray.

He Xu had just finished a three-hour private coaching session and was sitting on the floor drinking water. His sports jacket was half off, revealing a black vest underneath, and his collarbone was covered in sweat.

After stretching, the students left one after another.

"Thank you for your hard work, Teacher He."

"See you tomorrow, teacher."

He Xu didn't even look up, just waved his hand and mumbled a vague "hmm".

Shen Yiheng did not leave.

He leaned against the opposite wall, slowly packing his things—he had an early class tomorrow, and he was too lazy to take his things back and then bring them back, so he simply packed them up and put them in the locker in the practice room.

He Xu had gotten used to his presence. The two were only a year apart in age and had been together for so long that they were already very familiar with each other.

While the two were bickering casually,

A student turned back from the doorway.

Shen Yiheng remembered that person; he had just attended class that afternoon. He didn't pay much attention to his name, only knowing that he was a trainee from another company who occasionally came to audit He Xu's private tutoring classes.

"Teacher He," the student said, holding a cup of coffee and looking a little embarrassed, "this... was a gift from a fan. It's too bitter for me. Would you like to take it?"

He Xu looked up at him.

"A gift from a fan?"

"Yeah, it was one of those guys waiting downstairs... One of them insisted on giving it to me, saying it was some kind of hand-drip brew and very expensive." The student scratched his head. "I really can't stand bitter drinks, and it's a shame to throw it away."

He Xu didn't think much of it and reached out to take it.

Thanks.

The student smiled, waved, and left.

Shen Yiheng was looking down and rolling up the loose kinesiology tape when he caught a glimpse of He Xu opening the coffee cup lid and sniffing it.

"What flavor is it?" Shen Yiheng asked casually.

"I don't know," He Xu said. "It smells like Americano."

Then he took a sip.

The movement stopped abruptly as soon as it was swallowed.

The coffee doesn't taste right.

The burning sensation traveled from my throat all the way down to my stomach, like swallowing a piece of red-hot coal.

He frowned and looked down at the coffee cup in his hand.

The color was no different from what he usually drinks.

But this taste was off.

"teacher?"

Shen Yiheng's voice came from the side, tinged with a hint of teasing and disrespect: "What's wrong, is your coffee too hot?"

He Xu ignored him.

He put the coffee cup on the ground, and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

The discomfort did not subside; instead, it grew stronger, as if countless needles were pricking his vocal cords.

"water."

He Xu uttered a single word, and his voice had already changed.

The normally clear and bright tone sounded rough, as if it had been ground down on the ground.

Shen Yiheng's smile froze on his face.

"teacher?"

"...Give me water," He Xu said again, his voice so hoarse it was almost inaudible.

Shen Yiheng reacted, sprang up from the ground, rushed over, grabbed his sports water bottle, unscrewed the cap, and handed it over.

He Xu took it and gulped down a large mouthful.

Water spilled from the corner of his mouth, dripping down his chin onto his black vest.

Shen Yiheng squatted down in front of him, looking at his face, and finally noticed the abnormality—

He Xu's eyes reddened.

Because it hurts.

His Adam's apple bobbed violently, and he arched his back, coughing uncontrollably.

One cough after another, as if he were coughing up his lungs.

"Teacher? Teacher!" Shen Yiheng's voice suddenly changed. He reached out to touch He Xu's shoulder, finding it damp with hot sweat. "What's wrong with you?"

He Xu was speechless.

He used his hands to support himself on the ground, trying to stand up.

It didn't work.

As soon as his knees left the ground, a new wave of coughing pushed him back down.

This time it was more intense than before; his back arched into an exaggerated curve, and his forehead almost touched the floor.

The coughing up splattered on the floor.

Shen Yiheng looked down and saw it.

Dark, viscous, mixed with saliva—

blood.

"He Xu!!!"

Shen Yiheng's mind went blank.

He didn't know how he finished making the emergency call, nor how he helped He Xu up from the ground.

All I remember is He Xu pushing his hand away, taking two steps while supporting himself against the wall, then bending over and coughing up a puddle of liquid, the color of which was even darker than before.

The lights in the emergency room were blindingly white.

The doctor kept Shen Yiheng out of the door, so he could only sit on the iron chair by the door and wait for his agent to arrive.

Three hours later, the doctor came out.

"Chemical burns to the vocal cords, extensive damage to the laryngeal mucosa, and burns to the stomach. The substance was corrosive, probably a cleaning agent or something similar." The doctor's voice was calm. "We have already provided emergency treatment, but there will be long-term effects."

"Can he still speak?"

"Yes. But the tone of voice will be permanently changed, the vocal cords will be more fragile and prone to fatigue, and the respiratory tract and stomach will also be damaged..."

Shen Yiheng couldn't remember what he said.

The agent called the police on their behalf.

The investigation concluded quickly.

High concentrations of corrosive cleaning agents were detected in the coffee, and the cup only contained the fingerprints of He Xu and that student.

The student insisted that he was unaware of the situation, saying that a fan had placed the item downstairs, which was indeed the case.

However, the identity of the "fans" cannot be traced.

There were too many fans waiting downstairs, and no surveillance cameras could capture who handed out the coffee.

The police conducted a symbolic three-day investigation and concluded that it was an accident and that no specific person could be held responsible.

Lying in the hospital, He Xu listened to Shen Yiheng's retelling of the investigation results and only said two words: "Forget it."

Shen Yiheng wanted to say something, but He Xu silenced him with a look.

The case was dropped.

—And now, in the conference room.

Shen Yiheng pushed the mineral water bottle towards He Xu.

"Can your voice really hold up?"

"Oh, when did you become so filial? You even know how to care about your teacher now?" He Xu forced a smile.

Shen Yiheng raised his head and looked straight at him.

Those eyes, which always shone brightly on the stage, now held something else.

It's guilt.

He Xu figured it out.

"Don't look at me like that." He Xu's voice was low and husky, but his tone was casual, as if the matter was very ordinary. "It's not like you poisoned me."

"It's been three years, I've almost forgotten about it, why are you still so hung up on it?" he even joked.

Shen Yiheng opened his mouth, as if to say, "What's wrong with three years? I should forget about it after three years?"

But before he could even speak, He Xu had already reached out and taken the bottle of mineral water.

"You," He Xu wiped his mouth and leaned against the door, "you weren't this dramatic when I yelled at you in the practice room before, but now you've learned to act all sentimental?"

Shen Yiheng: "..."

"Have you been on too many variety shows and improved your acting skills?" He Xu tilted his head to look at him, his eyes filled with that familiar, irritating scrutiny.

Shen Yiheng was so speechless that he couldn't say a word.

Three years have passed, and He Xu is still the same He Xu.

No matter how heavy the topic, once it comes through his mouth, it becomes worthless nonsense.

"Alright." He Xu stood up, put the mineral water bottle back on the table, and said, "I know what's wrong with your voice. You focus on your program, score it when you need to, eliminate those who need to be eliminated, and don't give me any special treatment."

"I didn't mean to—"

"If you dare to go easy on me," He Xu turned around and glanced at him, "I'll scold you for regressing right here on stage in front of the whole nation, and I mean it."

Shen Yiheng's lips twitched.

He had no doubt that He Xu was capable of such a thing.

"I'm leaving." He Xu opened the door, and the music from the corridor immediately flooded in.

He took two steps out, then stepped back half a step, turning his head to look at Shen Yiheng, who was still stunned in the chair.

"Oh, right."

Shen Yiheng looked up.

"The choreography for your new song," He Xu's voice was low and husky, but his tone carried a casual seriousness, "the chorus part, your shoulders were too tense, go back and relax a bit."

After saying that, the door closed.