Amateur talent show? Top mentors are my students.

Meanwhile, domestically...

Whether it was Jin Xian or the Qi family who orchestrated it, NOVA's lavishness was more than anyone had anticipated.

The first show of the meet-and-greet tour is scheduled for the Capital Indoor Stadium, a venue with a capacity of 12,000 people.

The server crashed three times on the day the invoices were issued.

The official data shows that the product sold out in 37 seconds, but the actual time taken according to the backend statistics was less than 20 seconds - the remaining 17 seconds was due to server lag.

The PR director posted a screenshot of the back-end system in the group chat, with the caption, "Do you know how popular you are right now?"

There was a three-second silence in the group chat, then Jiang Yang sent a "???", Li Bufan sent a string of "Ahhhhhh", and Yang Sheng replied with a period.

By 4 p.m. on the day of the performance, the backstage dressing room was already in complete chaos.

Seven people were forced onto dressing chairs, each with a mirror in front of them. The faces reflected in the mirrors all wore the same expression—ashen-faced.

Li Bufan was the first to break down.

He sat in the chair closest to the door, letting the makeup artist apply foundation to his face, muttering to himself, "Twelve thousand...twelve thousand people...When I was a kid, I was so nervous during a school talent show with only thirty people in the audience that I forgot my lines...twelve thousand..."

"Stop counting." Jiang Yang sat in the chair next to him, being sprayed with hairspray by the makeup artist. "The more you count, the more nervous you get."

"Does not counting mean I'm not nervous? It's still 12,000 even if I don't count it!"

"Then you should think about something else."

"What is it?"

"For example... will Teacher He watch the live stream today?"

Li Bufan's rambling paused for a moment.

He blinked, as if processing the information, then his expression relaxed slightly: "...You're right, he'll definitely watch. If he sees me so nervous on stage that I forget my moves, he could scold me for a whole year."

"Then don't be nervous."

"...You make it sound so easy!"

At the other end of the dressing room, Lu Yiming had been sitting in front of the mirror, lost in thought for several minutes.

Today he changed into a silver-gray stage outfit, with a row of tiny sequins adorning the collar, which shimmered slightly under the lights.

His makeup was done, and the stylist gave him a slightly wavy hairstyle, making him look several years older than usual.

But he remained huddled in the chair, his legs together, his hands resting on his knees, his knuckles white.

Song Yingwen stood up from the chair next to him, walked over, and looked down at him: "Are you alright?"

Lu Yiming raised his head, his lips moving slightly: "...Nervous."

"I can tell."

"My legs go weak just thinking about the more than 10,000 people in the audience."

Song Yingwen patted his shoulder, unable to offer any words of comfort.

Because he was nervous too.

In the corner rest area, Yang Sheng was sitting on the sofa, looking down at his phone.

Today he was wearing a dark blue stage costume with a silver trim on the shoulders and cuffs, giving it a clean and sharp look.

Although he appears calm on the surface, his true feelings are unknown to outsiders.

On a chair next to him, Qi Xunan was leaning back with his eyes closed, resting.

He was dressed in a pure white stage costume with a silver brooch pinned to his collar, and he was as quiet as a painting.

Sitting next to him was Wang Yijun, who was wearing a dark red coat today. His hair had been styled by a stylist to create several sharp textures, making him look more edgy than usual.

Wang Yijun's phone vibrated.

He glanced down—it was NOVA's group chat, and He Xu had just sent a message.

There was only one line: "Once you're on stage, don't overthink it. Just jump."

Wang Yijun stared at the line of text for two seconds, then flipped her phone over and placed it face down on her lap.

Yang Sheng saw the message almost simultaneously.

He loosened his grip on the web of his hand, placed his phone on the sofa armrest, stood up, and walked to the center of the dressing room.

"Twenty minutes until the show starts." His voice wasn't loud, but it was enough to quiet the entire room. "One last check of your headsets and handheld microphones, make sure your shoelaces are tied tightly, and don't drink too much water before going on stage. We've rehearsed the entire routine, so don't get it wrong."

All seven people looked at him at the same time.

Some nodded, some flexed their wrists, and some swallowed the last mouthful of water.

Then the door was pushed open.

Han Yu stood at the door, holding a cup of coffee, and glanced at the people in the dressing room: "Ready?"

Yang Sheng looked at him and asked, "Teacher Han, what brings you here?"

"I've come to cheer you on." Han Yu walked in and naturally sat down on an empty chair by the wall. "And I'll also listen to see if you sing my songs off-key."

Li Bufan's voice came from in front of the makeup mirror: "Teacher Han Yu, what you said makes us even more nervous—"

"Being nervous is a good thing." Han Yu leaned back in his chair. "If you're not nervous at all, that's the problem. Being nervous means you care, and caring means you'll do well."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the seven faces one by one: "And your stage today isn't just yours alone. Your teacher choreographed the dance, I wrote the song, and you're all dancing and singing it yourselves—the quality of this performance directly affects our reputations."

Jiang Yang finally turned around from the dressing chair, his expression serious: "...Teacher Han, what you're saying puts even more pressure on me."

"Then don't mess it up."

"……OK."

-

At 7:00 sharp, the lights in the venue suddenly went out.

The screams from the audience surged up like a tidal wave at that moment.

The roar of twelve thousand people converged into an invisible wall, pressing down on the stage from all directions.

The light boards suddenly lit up in the darkness—red, blue, gold, and orange, merging into a flowing sea of ​​color.

The lights went out.

For the first three seconds after the curtain was drawn, the venue was as quiet as a ghost town.

Three thousand people held their breath at the same time, and even forgot to wave their light sticks.

Then the spotlight came down.

The first beam of light shone on Yang Sheng.

He stood in the center of the stage, holding a microphone, his gaze sweeping across the entire audience.

When she opened her mouth, her voice was lower than usual, with a deliberately suppressed, relaxed quality befitting the stage: "Hello everyone, we are NOVA."

The audience was silent for half a second, then erupted.

"Aaaaaaahh ...

"Yang Sheng!!!"

"He's so handsome!!!"

Someone in the front row stood up and waved a light sign that read "Yang Sheng" frantically.

People around them stood up as well, and the entire venue seemed to be set on fire from the inside.

Yang Sheng's lips curved slightly.

He turned his head and glanced to the side of the stage before continuing, "Today is NOVA's first tour since our debut. We're so happy you could come."

He spoke slowly, each sentence delivered as if he were intently looking at the audience.

The roar from the audience rose another notch, mixed with a few shouts that sounded like sobs.

Then the stage lights on both sides came on at the same time—six more people emerged from the shadows, stepping to the beat.

Seven people lined up on the stage, their faces beaming with smiles.

Everyone's heart was pounding in their chests.