Amateur talent show? Top mentors are my students.

"He Xu".

Wang Yijun's voice wasn't loud, but it was clear enough.

The players' seats immediately erupted in discussion.

"Wang Yijun chose He Xu???"

"They chose He Xu first? Isn't he in Class B?!"

"Who cares about Class B or Class A? He Xu's skills are top-tier even in Class A. Wang Yijun isn't stupid—"

"No, everyone calm down, He Xu's voice—"

"What's wrong with his voice? Is his bad voice affecting his dancing? Didn't you see the theme song MV? Is that even a human being able to dance like that?"

Li Bufan sprang up from his seat, his grizzled orange hair swaying wildly under the lights: "No way—Wang Yijun, you're too fast! I didn't even have time to react before you snatched him away?!"

The three people from Banxing Entertainment sat together, each with a different expression.

Yang Sheng, in particular, looked resentful.

He drew number 6, which meant Wang Yijun beat him to it.

He Xu was sitting in the B class area. When he heard his name called, he raised an eyebrow slightly.

He turned his head and glanced at Wang Yijun on the stage.

The aloof, handsome young man was calmly watching him from half a studio away.

He Xu's lips curved slightly.

interesting.

He and Wang Yijun weren't actually close; aside from being roommates, they had never been in the same class.

Moreover, Wang Yijun is unusually cold.

This kid, just a few days ago in the practice room he acted like "I don't need anyone," but today he's the first one called out.

The selection process is still ongoing, and Wang Yijun's second choice is Lu Yiming.

Lu Yiming was in the C-class area, head down, counting on his fingers to calculate his chances of being selected. The moment he heard his name called, he froze.

"Me???" He looked up, his glasses reflecting the light, his expression a mix of shock and ecstasy. "Brother, you chose me???"

"Um."

"But I'm in Class C—I'm not good at dancing—I—"

"You have a good voice," Wang Yijun interrupted him. "This song needs a lead singer."

Lu Yiming's eyes instantly reddened.

After that, Wang Yijun successively selected one student from Class B and one from Class C, whose abilities were considered to be average.

For the last person, he chose Yan Chen.

Yan Chen from Class F.

Yan Chen, sitting in the corner of Class F, froze. The wound on the back of his head hadn't fully healed; a small piece of gauze covered it, hidden under his hair and not visible.

He thought he had long been forgotten by everyone—a trainee in Class F who hadn't even recorded a theme song, who would choose him?

"Me?" he asked instinctively, his voice hoarse.

Wang Yijun stood on the stage, looking at him from half a studio away, and nodded.

The selection process proceeded quickly; in less than half an hour, all sixteen teams were finalized.

Shen Yiheng stood in the center of the stage, his gaze sweeping over the teams on both sides.

Sixteen groups of people stood on the left and right sides of the stage, separated by less than ten meters, yet a subtle tension permeated the air.

In "Blade", Wang Yijun is the first in Group A, and Yang Sheng is the first in Group B.

Yang Sheng's gaze swept across the crowd and landed on He Xu. His lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but ultimately, due to the distance, he couldn't speak.

Shen Yiheng's lips twitched slightly.

Of course he knew Yang Sheng would choose "Blade"—it was his song, and Yang Sheng was his junior, so choosing his song was perfectly normal.

But he knew even better that Yang Sheng chose this song for another reason: he wanted He Xu.

Since we can't be in the same group, let's stand on opposite sides and have a fair and square competition.

With the selection process finalized, the contestants gradually dispersed and each took their assigned practice room.

After a short lunch, the afternoon rehearsals began in earnest.

Most groups have already gotten into the swing of things—some are meticulously studying the dance demo frame by frame, while others are huddled in a corner with headphones on, listening to the recording repeatedly.

He Xu, however, has disappeared again.

Wang Yijun pushed open the door to the practice room and glanced around.

Lu Yiming sat on the floor flipping through lyric books, Zhao Tianyu and Lin Siyuan huddled together watching videos, and Yan Chen stood in the corner silently watching dance demos.

Only one person was missing.

"Where is He Xu?" Wang Yijun frowned.

Lu Yiming raised his hand, his voice tinged with uncertainty: "He said... he went back to rest."

"A break?" Wang Yijun's brows furrowed even more. "Is he joking?"

He Xu was not joking.

He felt that if he didn't sleep soon, he would suddenly die.

The dimly lit room and the soft, large bed were infinitely more comfortable than the athletes' dormitories.

He Xu was curled up on one side of the bed, while another person was lying on the other side.

Shen Yiheng.

The curtains were drawn tightly shut, with only a sliver of afternoon light leaking in from the corner, leaving a thin, shimmering mark on the white sheets.

The air conditioning was set very low, and the blanket was being pulled back and forth between the two of them, eventually forming a strange balance—He Xu was curled up like a shrimp wrapped in the blanket, while Shen Yiheng could only grab a corner of the blanket, which he draped over his stomach, and lay sprawled on the bed with his limbs spread wide.

He stayed in the practice room until nearly 3 a.m. last night. After recording the demo, He Xu collapsed on the floor, not even wanting to move a finger.

Shen Yiheng is no better than him.

He was scolded by He Xu countless times, and he danced countless times. When he finally froze in the ending pose, his legs were shaking.

"How are you going to get home tonight?" Shen Yiheng was leaning against the wall next to him, and his voice was hoarse, but not as bad as He Xu's.

He Xu did not answer.

Because he found himself unable to speak.

He opened his mouth, but only a muffled breath escaped his throat.

Shen Yiheng looked at him and remained silent for two seconds.

"Let's go," he stood up and pulled He Xu up from the ground, "to my place."

He Xu glanced at him, his eyes conveying a clear message: Are you crazy? A contestant sleeping in the mentor's room?

"No one will see you in the middle of the night," Shen Yiheng said. "It's three o'clock now. If you go back to the dorm, won't you wake up your roommates? Then it'll be even harder to explain."

He Xu thought about it and realized he was right.

So he followed Shen Yiheng.

The rooms in the mentors' building were indeed much better than the contestants' dormitories—at least the beds were soft, the blankets were thick, and the air conditioning was quiet.

He Xu fell asleep on the bed without even having time to adjust his position.

I slept for three or four hours, then got up to do my makeup and styling, and recorded the group segment.

Now I can finally catch up on my sleep.

After sending a message to the selection manager and agent, Shen Yiheng turned on Do Not Disturb.

Although it was strange to sleep in the same bed as his teacher, he couldn't care less.

It's not like we haven't slept together before.

-

At five o'clock in the afternoon, the sunlight had completely disappeared through the gaps in the curtains, and the room became dark.

Shen Yiheng woke up first.

He groggily turned over and reached for his phone under the pillow. The light from the screen made him squint.

On WeChat, there were already more than a dozen messages from my agent, Sister Lin.

"PD, where are you?"

"Team A of 'Blade' is looking for He Xu. Wang Yijun said he's missing."

"There's no practice room, no cafeteria, and no dormitory."

"PD, have you seen him?"

"Didn't he leave with you? I saw him follow you out when we finished recording the group assignments at noon."

"Shen Yiheng!!!"

The last message was sent three minutes ago: "If you don't reply soon, I'm going to your room to find you."

Shen Yiheng snapped awake and became mostly sober.

He threw his phone on the bed, turned around, and pushed He Xu's shoulder.

"Teacher, wake up."

no response.

He Xu curled up in the blanket in the same position as before he fell asleep, his whole body curled up in a ball, his face buried in the pillow, only half of his face and one ear showing.

Shen Yiheng pushed again, this time with more force than before.

"He Xu, the selection officer is looking for you. Your team members have been looking for you for a long time..."

His fingers paused for a moment when they touched He Xu's shoulder.

hot.

An abnormal, burning sensation that surges from beneath the skin.

Shen Yiheng's expression changed.

He moved his hand from the shoulder to He Xu's forehead, and the moment the back of his hand touched He Xu's forehead, his heart sank.

Scalding hot.

He has a fever.