Amateur talent show? Top mentors are my students.

Zhou Wei was taken aback by those words.

He took a deep breath and softened his tone: "I'm not telling you not to sing. I'm telling you to sing it the right way."

"You dance so well, you could easily find a suitable key for your vocals—why are you going against the original key?"

He Xu lowered his eyes, looking at the lyric book in his hand, and did not answer.

"Speak," Zhou Wei said, his tone becoming more urgent.

"Would you listen if I told you?" He Xu raised his head, his voice not loud, but with a rare hint of defiance. "I sang in a lower key from the beginning, didn't you tell me to use the original key?"

Zhou Wei opened his mouth, but couldn't say anything for a moment.

"So how do you think I should sing it?" He Xu rolled up the lyric book and threw it on the speaker next to him. "Give me a plan, and I'll do it."

The air in the practice room froze.

The other contestants didn't dare to breathe, and Lu Yiming huddled in a corner, wishing he could squeeze himself into a crack in the wall.

Li Bufan kept his head down, his dirty orange hair obscuring his expression.

Zhou Wei looked at He Xu, his chest heaving twice.

"I'll provide the solutions?" His voice finally rose a little. "Are you the contestant or am I? Don't you have any ideas about your own vocals? You're so assertive when you're dancing, how come you leave everything to me when it comes to singing?"

He Xu remained silent.

Looking at He Xu's expression, Zhou Wei felt a tightness in his chest.

He took a deep breath, as if he was trying to suppress something.

"Fine, you're not going to say anything, huh?" Zhou Wei's voice lowered, so low that only He Xu and a few people in the front row could hear it. "Then let me ask you—do you even want to sing properly?"

He Xu raised his eyes to look at him, then lowered them again.

"Does it matter whether I want to or not?" he said softly.

"Important," Zhou Wei said.

He Xu did not respond.

Zhou Wei waited for three seconds, but received no reply. The anger that had been suppressed flared up again.

"Do you think everyone's against you?" Zhou Wei's voice rose slightly. "Letting you sing is for your own good, helping you change the key is also for your own good, how could you—"

"I don't feel like anyone's against me." He Xu's voice wasn't loud, but it was firm. "I just can't sing, and forcing me won't help."

Zhou Wei was speechless.

Looking at He Xu's expressionless face, he felt a mix of emotions he couldn't quite describe.

There was anger, anxiety, and a deep sense of disappointment.

"I forced you?" Zhou Wei's voice finally turned cold. "Fine, consider it meddling."

He turned to grab the tablet from the table, his movements a little heavier than usual, and the tablet hit the edge of the table with a dull thud.

He Xu watched his movements, his lips moved, but he didn't say anything.

Zhou Wei picked up the tablet, walked to the door, and opened it.

"If you don't want to sing, no one can force you." He didn't even turn his head, his voice so calm it didn't sound like he was angry.

But that calm is more unsettling than getting angry.

"But you need to think clearly—what are you here for?"

The door wasn't slammed shut; in fact, it was closed very gently.

It clicked shut.

The practice room was so quiet you could hear the hum of the fluorescent lights.

He Xu stood there, staring at the closed door, his lips pressed into a thin line.

He felt he should say something—either add something to Zhou Wei's retreating figure or curse at the door.

But my throat felt like it was blocked by something, and I couldn't utter a single word.

It's not that I have nothing to say, it's that I have too much to say, so much that I don't know where to begin.

He took a deep breath, bent down to pick up the mineral water bottle from the ground, screwed on the cap, and threw it forcefully into the trash can in the corner.

The bottle hit the side of the bucket with a clatter, bounced once, and then fell in.

The people nearby were startled by the noise.

"Brother He Xu..." Lu Yiming asked cautiously.

He Xu didn't look at him.

He grabbed his coat from the mirror bar, quickly put it on without even zipping it up, and strode toward the door.

He paused for a moment as he passed Yang Sheng.

Yang Sheng opened his mouth, wanting to call out "teacher," but when he met He Xu's eyes, he swallowed his words.

There was no particular expression in his eyes, but Yang Sheng had followed him for three years and could tell that he was angry.

The door was pulled open and then slammed shut.

It slammed shut with a much louder bang than when Zhou Wei slammed the door.

The music from the corridor suddenly rushed in, only to be shut out behind the door.

-

He Xu walked quickly down the corridor and turned into the stairwell.

He didn't want to go back to his dorm, didn't want to see anyone, and didn't want to hear the name "Brother He Xu".

The stairwell was empty, with only the green light for the emergency exit dimly glowing at my feet.

He leaned against the wall, tilted his head back, pressed the back of his head against the cold wall, and closed his eyes.

bother.

It's really annoying.

He wasn't annoyed by Zhou Wei.

He knew that most of what Zhou Wei said was true.

He was annoyed by himself, annoyed by his voice, annoyed that he knew he couldn't sing but still forced himself to, annoyed that he was a joke both on and off stage.

What's even more annoying is that he actually talked back to Zhou Wei.

It's one thing to talk back, but to do it so poorly is another.

"Give me a plan, and I'll do it"—he regretted saying that as soon as he said it.

He's a contestant, not someone who's there to act like a king. Zhou Wei is his mentor, not his personal vocal coach.

He Xu rubbed his face hard, then dug his fingers into his hair and tugged at it twice.

He regretted it.

It's not just about regretting arguing with Zhou Wei.

They even regretted coming to this lousy show.

Hands owe.

Why can't I control this hand?

I should have just browsed the announcements and watched the fun, but I had to impulsively click on the "register" button.

After signing up, I comforted myself by saying, "I'm just killing time anyway, might as well go in and cause some trouble for others."

Now look what happened; instead of helping others, he's blocked himself up completely.

He Xu sat down on the steps in the stairwell, pulled the hood of his sports jacket over his head, hunched over, and rested his hands on his knees.

The theme song's accompaniment was playing from some practice room upstairs. The drumbeats came through the floorboards, muffled, pounding against his heart.

He wanted to swear.

I want to curse the production team, I want to curse Zhou Wei, I want to curse the person who handed me the coffee back then, I want to curse God.

But the person I want to scold the most is myself.

"Twenty-four..." he muttered under his breath, his voice so hoarse that only he could hear it, "He's twenty-four and still like this."

At 24, she taught dance for six years and mentored a significant portion of the dance talent in the Chinese entertainment industry.

The results of it?

I was scolded like a grandson by a tutor in the practice room, and then I ran out and hid in the stairwell like a high school student.

Isn't that shameful?

He Xu pulled his hat down further, covering most of his face.

He recalled how he used to scold his students—"You're all teenagers, can't you be a little more mature?"

Now, at 24, Teacher He is so mature that he slams the door and leaves after being told a few things.

He himself found it ridiculous.

The more I think about it, the more ashamed I feel.

But upon further reflection, that feeling of shame gradually took a different turn—

Forget it.

He Xu pushed his hat back, stared at the dim light bulb above his head, and suddenly felt that it was quite boring.

Why does he think so much?

So what if Zhou Wei is disappointed? He's not the first person to be disappointed in He Xu.

He was deeply disappointed when the doctor told him his voice was ruined.

Compared to that, what is Zhou Wei's disappointment?

Thinking back further, when the big companies that wanted to poach him to be their art director rejected him, they looked at him with disappointment.

"If you have the ability, why are you unwilling?"

If you don't want to, you don't want to. What's there to explain?

He laughed again, this time genuinely finding it funny.

When did He Xu become someone who reflects on himself in the stairwell?

Is reflection useful?

Can reflection help heal a sore throat?

Can reflection prevent Zhou Wei from scolding him in front of so many people?

No.

What a load of rubbish about reflecting on that?

do not care.

If you can't sing, you can't sing; if you want to lower the key, you can lower the key. Zhou Wei can say whatever he wants.

He didn't come on this show to curry favor with anyone.

If you're bored, find something to have fun with. If someone picks on you, fight back. If you can't win the argument, run away. If you can't run away, just lie down and relax.

It's no big deal.

How many days has it been?

There are plenty of days ahead, why make yourself unhappy?