Amateur talent show? Top mentors are my students.

The bass harmonies were Zhou Wei's idea—Shen Yiheng only found out about this after the music video was released.

On the day the recording ended, Zhou Wei intercepted He Xu in the corridor and took him to the recording studio.

When He Xu followed him inside, the tent had already been cleared out.

There was only Zhou Wei.

"Sit down," Zhou Wei said, pointing to the seats in the recording studio.

He Xu didn't sit down, but leaned against the doorframe and looked at him: "What?"

"Speak while seated."

"Your bass voice." Zhou Wei cut to the chase without any preamble, "You sang during the recording of the theme song."

He Xu neither denied nor responded.

"The sound was very soft, but I could hear it in the monitoring room." Zhou Wei turned around, turned on the monitor speaker, and it emitted a deep hum. "The quality is something others can't replicate."

"so?"

"So you'll record a backing track." Zhou Wei's tone was as if he were stating a settled plan, not discussing it. "It'll be placed in the second verse of the chorus. You don't need to sing the whole song, just a few lines will do. It won't hurt your voice."

He Xu couldn't help but chuckle: "Teacher Zhou, are you giving me special tutoring because of Shen Yiheng?"

"He doesn't know." Zhou Wei didn't laugh. "Just tell me, are we recording or not?"

"……record."

Zhou Wei led He Xu into the recording studio, spreading the sheet music on the table: "For the second verse of the chorus, add a bass harmony track."

Without saying a word, He Xu put on his headphones and stood in front of the microphone.

Got it in one go.

Zhou Wei stared at the sound spectrum for two seconds: "One more time."

He Xu glanced at him through the glass, and the second time, his voice trailed off for a full two seconds.

His voice hadn't recovered from yesterday's ordeal and was excessively hoarse.

But Zhou Wei didn't say "do it again".

He knew that the effect was good enough.

As it turned out, the results were even better than he had imagined.

The day after the music video was released, the directing team and the mentor team held an emergency meeting.

There were seven people sitting in the conference room.

Director, producer, publicity director, and four mentors—Shen Yiheng, Zhou Wei, Zheng Zaiyuan, and Jin Xian.

Xu Shutong was unable to return due to a commitment in another city and could only answer by phone.

The projection screen displayed the music video's data panel—views, shares, trending search terms, and topic discussion—each exceeding the expected peak.

"The music video garnered over 80 million views across the internet in less than 24 hours after its release." The publicity director read the data with barely suppressed excitement. "The official Weibo account gained 1.2 million followers, and 37 new supertopics were added, three of which broke into the top 50 of the overall rankings."

"Yang Sheng's popularity is rising the fastest." The publicity director switched to a slide that was filled with dense data charts.

"His individual fancam clips have garnered over 20 million views on short video platforms, with comments generally focusing on 'jumping like this at seventeen' and 'the quality of trainees at Banxing Entertainment.'"

Jin Xian nodded, and unusually took the initiative to speak: "His basic skills are indeed solid. To be able to control his core to that extent at this age is not only a matter of talent, but also a matter of a lot of training."

"Banxing's trainee system has always been very strict," Shen Yiheng finally spoke, his voice steady. "From selection and training to assessment, there is a complete process."

"Yang Sheng is the most outstanding in this batch, but not the only one. Although Song Yingwen and Jiang Yang's data is not as good as his, their basic skills are not bad either."

"These three are all in Class A, right?" The director flipped through the rating sheet in his hand. "The quality of the submissions from Banxing this time is indeed high."

"Qi Xunan's stats are also impressive." The publicity director continued scrolling down, "The Weibo hashtag #QiXunanCenterPosition# currently has over 80 million views and is still rising rapidly."

"His number of followers on his Super Topic has surpassed Yang Sheng's. Although the growth rate is slightly slower, his activity level is higher."

"That rhythm was so captivating." Jung Jae-won leaned back in his chair, his fingers unconsciously tapping the table to the beat. "The half-beat delay design isn't that difficult, but to come up with it and execute it precisely with only an hour to prepare—this kid is something else."

Shen Yiheng flipped through the documents in front of him, his gaze lingering on Qi Xunan's resume.

Twenty-one years old, from a large company, with three and a half years of training, received a B rating on the first stage performance, and was promoted to A for the theme song.

A clean and accurate resume, without any embellishment.

"Why wasn't he pushed before?" Shen Yiheng looked up at the publicity director.

"The company says he's been honing his skills and hasn't found the right time to debut." The publicity director paused, "But judging from his performance this time, he definitely has the ability to debut much earlier."

Zhou Wei picked up his coffee cup and took a sip, his voice neither warm nor cold: "Some people are slow to warm up, and they are more likely to shine in competitions. Qi Xunan is one of them."

"So, who do you think has more potential, him or Yang Sheng?" the director suddenly asked.

There was a moment of silence in the conference room.

Zhou Wei put down his coffee cup, pondered for two seconds, and said, "Yang Sheng can debut right now, while Qi Xunan needs another year or two to hone his skills. But Qi Xunan's potential is—"

He paused.

"Possibly even higher."

No one refuted.

Shen Yiheng remained silent, tapping his fingers lightly twice on the table.

Yang Sheng was a junior apprentice he had watched grow up; his basic skills, attitude, and temperament were impeccable. But Zhou Wei's words did indeed touch upon a fact he had always been unwilling to admit—

Yang Sheng lacked something.

Recognition.

It's about having the qualities that make the audience remember you at first glance and never get tired of watching you even after a hundred viewings.

Qi Xunan has it.

He Xu is even better.

But Yang Sheng still needs time.

"What about bass harmony?" Jin Xian steered the conversation back on track. "The online discussion is getting more and more heated, and even the spectral analysis is out. If we don't give an explanation soon, the speculation will only go further astray."

The publicity director looked troubled: "We've considered several options, but Professor Zhou Wei said..."

All eyes turned to Zhou Wei.

Zhou Wei's expression remained unchanged: "Not public."

"But--"

"Not to be made public." Zhou Wei repeated, his tone still calm. "Not to be made public now, at least not before the initial stage performance."

The director frowned: "Old Zhou, can you give me a reason?"

Zhou Wei glanced at him, then placed the coffee cup on the table with a soft sound.

"Because once it's public, everyone will focus on 'who sang that bass voice,' not the stage itself." His voice was calm and unhurried.

"You all know better than I that He Xu's voice can't hold up for the whole match. If we put him in the spotlight now, he'll be at a disadvantage in the later matches."

The director thought about it and seemed to be convinced.

"What about his hand? What's with that scar in the music video?"

Shen Yiheng's body tensed slightly for a moment.

Zhou Wei glanced at him and then said, "There was a slight accident during practice. The mirror broke, and I got cuts. I needed four stitches, but it won't affect my performance."

The director frowned even more: "During rehearsals? Why didn't anyone call them out?"

"It's a minor matter," Shen Yiheng finally spoke, his voice calm. "The production team has already handled it, and the relevant personnel have been disciplined. There's no need to escalate the situation."

The director opened his mouth as if to say something, but was stopped by a look from the producer.

"The PD is right, let's hold off on this for now. When the main episode is released, we'll include some practice room footage in the behind-the-scenes clips, and then the audience will naturally see what happened."

"In short," the director drew everyone's attention back, turned to the next page of his notebook, and his expression turned serious again, "the current data and public opinion are within a controllable range, and even exceeded expectations."

"But the first performance ahead will be the real test—a live audience plus an online live stream. If we sing well, the momentum from before can be maintained; if we sing badly, all our previous efforts will be in vain."

He closed his notebook and glanced at everyone present.

"Tomorrow is the first group performance. How are the preparations for the performance going?"

Shen Yiheng opened the document in front of him, about to answer—

The conference room door was suddenly pushed open from the outside.

The commotion wasn't loud, but it was sudden enough.

Everyone turned their heads away.

An assistant director rushed in and whispered a few words in the director's ear.

The director's face instantly turned ugly.

He asked a few more questions, then turned his gaze back to the crowd.

"There's a problem with the copyright of the song for the first performance."