Amateur talent show? Top mentors are my students.

Meanwhile, NOVA's domestic tour has already visited seven cities.

From the 12,000-seat venue at the Capital Indoor Stadium, to later shows in Guangzhou, Shanghai, Chengdu... every single one was sold out.

There are always scalpers outside selling overpriced tickets, and inside the venue, there are always fans holding up light sticks and screaming until they are hoarse.

The seven of them had gotten used to sneaking into the van through the side door of the hotel, to being surrounded by crowds at the airport, and to collapsing into bed as soon as they got back to the hotel after recording the show.

They did become famous, and it was only natural that they became famous. They became so famous that they had to book out a restaurant in advance, and they were even secretly filmed when they went to a convenience store to buy a bottle of water.

The number of fans greeting them at the airport increased from dozens to hundreds, and the number of security guards increased from four to ten, but they still couldn't stop people from rushing up and stuffing letters and gifts into their arms.

But fire also comes at a price.

For example, illegitimate children.

They would stake out hotels, follow cars, knock on doors in the middle of the night, and even leave gifts in the hallways—at first it was just a few letters and boxes of snacks, but later it turned into things that made people more uncomfortable.

Once, Jiang Yang was grabbed by the sleeve by a girl at the hotel entrance. The girl cried and said, "Jiang Yang, I love you so much. Can we date?" Jiang Yang was stunned and had no time to say anything before Yang Sheng pulled him into the elevator.

"Don't walk alone in the future," Yang Sheng said.

Jiang Yang looked down at his wrinkled sleeve and nodded.

On another occasion, Yang Sheng received a text message from an unknown number on his way back to the hotel. The message read: "Your gray sweatshirt looks great today. I know which floor you live on; your window faces south."

The text message was unsigned and contained no threatening language, but the agent immediately decided to increase security, and the seven people changed hotels overnight.

Later, the seven of them developed a tacit understanding on how to deal with stalker fans.

They never leave alone unless they use a separate entrance, they take turns sleeping in hotel rooms, have staff pick up their takeout orders, and never post their real-time location on social media.

At first, Li Bufan thought it was "too cautious," until he was followed by a car for three whole blocks on his way back to the hotel—from that day on, he never said "too cautious" again.

Besides being stalked, they are also adapting to something else – socializing.

Since their debut, NOVA has been participating in more and more activities.

Award ceremonies, brand launches, variety show recordings, media interviews—they have new occasions to attend almost every week.

Every time means facing a bunch of strangers, standing in front of the camera smiling, and saying those polite but meaningless platitudes.

As the team leader, Yang Sheng bore the brunt of the social pressure.

He's actually not good at small talk, and even less good at maintaining composure in those "you're nice to me, I'm nice to you, everyone's nice to you" situations.

But he knew he was the captain, and even though he was still a minor, he had to shoulder his responsibilities.

Live streaming is the most frequent way to appear online, at least two to three times a week.

Sometimes it's a phone set up in a hotel room, sometimes in the backstage dressing room, and sometimes in the nanny van while it's in motion.

The seven people have mastered the skill of quickly entering "live broadcast mode" in any environment—as soon as the camera lights up, all sleepiness disappears and smiles naturally appear on their lips.

-

Yang Sheng made the video call during a break in his tour.

At one o'clock in the morning, the curtains in the hotel room were drawn tightly, with only a dim yellow lamp on the bedside table.

He had just finished showering, his hair still wet, and he was leaning against the headboard in a white hotel bathrobe, holding his phone up to his face with the words "Teacher He" displayed on the screen.

He hadn't originally intended to fight.

He knew it was probably a little after nine in the morning in Los Angeles, and He Xu should be training or doing something else—

Since he joined the film crew, he has been replying to messages much less frequently. He occasionally pops up in the group chat, posting a photo of the training ground.

But Yang Sheng was really too tired today.

I recorded a variety show in the afternoon. I stood the whole time, answering questions, playing games, and responding to the host's jokes non-stop. My face was stiff from laughing so much.

When I got back that night, we had to have a debriefing meeting. My agent said a lot of things, but the gist of it was, "You guys are famous now, so watch your words and actions, watch your image, and be careful not to give anyone any leverage over you."

He listened to those words, nodding as he spoke, but his mind was blank.

After returning to my room and taking a shower, I lay on the bed staring at the ceiling and suddenly felt a strong urge to hear Teacher He's voice.

Yang Sheng didn't have high hopes, but the phone only rang twice before the screen lit up.

He Xu's face appeared in the frame.

The background was a warm yellow light, like a bedside lamp, the light was dim, and it made his silhouette softer than usual.

He leaned against the headboard, the blanket pulled up to his chest, his hair a little messy, and his face a bit pale.

"...Yang Sheng?" He Xu's voice came through the receiver, "What time is it over there? Why aren't you asleep yet?"

Yang Sheng opened his mouth, but his prepared explanation of "I'm fine, I was just making a random phone call" shattered into pieces when he saw He Xu's face.

"...I can't sleep," he said. "Teacher He, can I talk to you?"

"you say."

"...I've been under a lot of pressure lately." Yang Sheng's voice lowered, tinged with grievance. "Interviews, variety shows, live streams, I'm laughing every day, until my face is stiff, and I still can't sleep when I get back to my room. My manager says I can't look too tired, otherwise the fans will worry, and the sasaeng fans will go even crazier. But...I'm really tired."

He paused for a moment, then lowered his voice: "When I was recording the variety show today, the host asked me, 'As the youngest team leader, have you ever felt so much pressure that you wanted to cry?' I said no, I said, 'Pressure is motivation, and I will continue to work hard.' But as I said that, I was actually thinking—I really did want to cry."

He Xu did not interrupt him.

He leaned against the headboard and listened quietly.

"I was lying in bed just now," Yang Sheng continued, "thinking... if I could do what I used to do, even if it's just talking to you. I know you're filming right now and very busy, and I shouldn't have called, but... I couldn't help it."

He Xu did not reply immediately after hearing those words.

He took a deep breath, as if preparing to sit up straight—but as soon as he moved, his movement abruptly stopped.

He froze, gasped, his brow furrowed briefly before relaxing, as if trying to pretend nothing had happened.

Yang Sheng's attention was immediately drawn to that detail.

"...Teacher He?"

"Um."

What happened to you just now?

"It's nothing, I just got tangled in the blanket."

Yang Sheng stared at He Xu's face on the screen.

His face remained calm, but he noticed that He Xu was adjusting the position of his waist with extreme restraint, making very small movements, as if to avoid getting involved in something.

"Teacher He," Yang Sheng's voice suddenly changed, "Are you injured?"

He Xu stopped moving.

He lowered the hand he was trying to adjust, paused for a moment, and then said, "...It's just a minor injury. I bumped into something during training, nothing serious."