Amateur talent show? Top mentors are my students.

Zhou Wei picked up the walkie-talkie on the table and pressed the call button: "Director, what's wrong with He Xu's headset?"

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the walkie-talkie before the director's urgent voice came through: "Report from the waiting area: the headset is leaking electricity, the contestant's left ear is injured, and we've temporarily replaced it with a hand microphone."

There was a moment of silence in the observation room.

"An electrical leak?" Xu Shutong's voice rose an octave. "His ear is injured? Is it serious?"

"The staff in the waiting area said it's not a big problem and won't affect the performance." The director's voice carried a hint of uncertainty. "But the hand microphone and the headset microphone work completely differently, and he doesn't have an in-ear monitor..."

Zhou Wei put down the walkie-talkie, his expression unreadable, but he paused for a moment as he picked up his coffee cup.

"Dancing 'Blade' with a handheld microphone?" Jung Jae-won's voice was filled with disbelief. "The movements in that dance... how do you even hold a handheld microphone?"

No one answered.

On the screen, He Xu, who was in the waiting area, raised his left hand above his head and tried out a certain grip posture.

The microphone twirled between his fingers before settling steadily back into his palm.

-

The stage lights dimmed.

"Next, Team A of 'Blade,' please take your positions."

He Xu stood in the shadows to the side of the stage, holding a handheld microphone in his left hand, his palm slightly damp.

It wasn't because I was nervous.

It's because the tinnitus in my left ear is getting worse.

The persistent high-frequency noise felt like a needle pricking the eardrum, blocking out all other sounds.

Even his own breathing sounded muffled and distant.

He knew what this meant.

Hearing in my left ear is declining.

It's not permanent—at least he hopes it isn't.

But at this moment, all he could rely on was his right ear and the vibrations coming from the floor.

The stage is equipped with speakers, and the drumbeats of the accompaniment are transmitted through the floor, so you can feel them with your body without needing to hear them.

This was his last resort.

"Blade, Group A, please come to the stage."

He Xu took a deep breath and walked onto the stage.

The moment the spotlight came on, everything was magnified.

The screams from the audience, the flashing lights on the signs, and the slight vibrations of the stage floor.

He Xu stood in his place—to the left of the center position, to the right of Wang Yijun.

He lowered his head and looked at the floor beneath his feet.

The floor gleamed slightly under the stage lights, with a thin black line running along the seams from the front of the stage to the back panel.

He shifted his weight slightly forward, keeping his feet firmly on the ground.

Ready.

The moment the music started, He Xu closed his eyes.

His body was activated the moment the bass intro came up from the floor.

No need for ears, no need for rhythm, no need for any external signals—

His body knows where the music is!

He stole all the attention.

During the first eight beats, everyone started moving at the same time.

He Xu opened his eyes, his hand holding the microphone steadily between his fingers, his movements no different from usual.

The screams from the audience turned into cheers the moment the music started.

"Aaaaaaaaahh ...

"He Xu!!! He Xu is a master of the microphone!!!"

"Why is he dancing with a handheld microphone?! It's so cool!!!"

In the observation room, Zheng Zaiyuan's pen fell onto the table.

He stared at the monitor screen with his mouth agape.

He Xu's movements were not affected in any way—the microphone in his hand was like an extension of his body; he could turn his body when he needed to, and squat down when he needed to, with the microphone always firmly held between his fingers.

"This..." Jung Jae-won opened his mouth, "How did he do that?"

Zhou Wei didn't speak, but his hand unconsciously tightened around the coffee cup.

The chorus is coming.

He Xu sprang up from the ground, spun in the air, and landed on one knee.

The microphone remained motionless in his hand.

At that moment, he spoke.

"We are the Blade—"

The moment the sound came from the speakers, the air in the observation room seemed to be suddenly compressed by something.

It was much more stable than during the rehearsal.

The hand microphone's pickup method is better suited to his bass than the headset—the sound is no longer interrupted by movements or weakened by breaths, but comes out steadily from the microphone.

His voice was hoarse, deep, and carried a powerful, oppressive quality.

The audience fell silent for a moment.

Everyone heard that sound.

That low frequency, so low it vibrated in the chest, was like a heartbeat surging up from underground, striking everyone's heart again and again.

Then, screams erupted.

"Aa ...

"That bass!!! That's the bass!!!"

In the observation room, Xu Shutong covered her mouth.

Jin Xian's hand holding the coffee cup froze in mid-air, her eyes widening slightly.

The chorus continues.

He Xu's voice maintained a steady, commanding bass tone throughout the entire chorus.

He poured all his energy into the last sentence.

"We are the light—"

The moment the last note landed, his body simultaneously completed the final movement of the chorus.

He braced himself on one hand, his body tracing an arc, while the other hand was raised high, the microphone reflecting a cold light under the lamp.

The screams from the audience nearly lifted the roof off the stadium.

"He Xu!!! He Xu!!! He Xu!!!"

"Is this even human?! He's not human?!"

"He can sing like this while dancing with a handheld microphone?! How does he do that?!"

In the observation room, Jung Jae-won finally regained his voice.

"His floor move just now," his voice was a little dry, "was done with one hand."

Jin Xian finally picked up the cup of coffee that had been sitting for a long time, took a sip, and put it down.

"Zhou Wei," she began, her voice low, "did you teach him?"

Zhou Wei was silent for a second.

"He practiced it himself," he said, his voice still calm, but with a slight rise at the end. "I just gave him a push."

On the monitor screen, He Xu was standing up from the ground.

The microphone was still held in his left hand, with the microphone tip pointing upwards.

His complexion wasn't good; he looked paler than before the match, and his lips were a bit dry.

But his back was ramrod straight, his chin was slightly raised, and he maintained his composure.

Shen Yiheng stood to the side of the stage, clutching the script card in his hand, his knuckles turning white.

His expression was a standard PD smile, but his eyes betrayed him.

Those eyes were red, as if something was swirling inside them, but he forced it back.

The music has ended.

The stage lights dimmed for a moment, then came back on.

The six people stood there, panting heavily.

The screams from the audience continued, wave after wave, like ocean waves.

He Xu switched the microphone to his right hand and flexed the fingers of his left hand.

The grip on the microphone did affect the power exertion, causing the angle of a few movements to be slightly off.

But only he knows it; the audience can't tell.

Lu Yiming stood in the back row, tears already streaming down his face.

"Brother He Xu..." His voice was drowned out by the screams of the crowd, and only he could hear it, "We did it."

The emotions of a thousand people converged into a torrent, crashing against the stage dome and then falling back down, striking each and every one of them.

He Xu stood there, listening to the screams that seemed to threaten to lift the stadium upside down, and a slight smile curved his lips.

He raised his right hand and waved towards the audience.

Then he turned around and followed the group off the stage.

-

The moment I stepped off the stage, my adrenaline receded from my body like a receding tide.

He Xu's legs went weak for a moment as he stepped onto the waiting area floor, his knees bent slightly, but he braced himself against the wall with his hands and regained his balance.

The stinging pain in my left ear went from "tolerable" to "unbearable" within seconds.

It wasn't that sharp, electrical sound anymore.

It was a deeper, more muffled pain, like someone digging into his ear canal with a blunt instrument, one beat after another, in sync with his heartbeat.

He Xu frowned, handed the microphone in his left hand to the staff member who came to greet him, his fingers trembling slightly.

"Brother He Xu—" Lu Yiming's voice came from behind, trembling with tears, "You were so amazing just now—"

He Xu did not turn around.

He was afraid that if he turned around, the expression on his face would frighten the child.

"He Xu, are you alright?" Wang Yijun's voice came from the side, sounding more nervous than usual.

He Xu turned his head to look at him, as if he wanted to say something, but his mouth opened and no sound came out.

Because the pain in my left ear suddenly intensified at that moment.

Sharp pain.

It felt like someone was taking a needle and sticking it into his eardrum, then slowly pushing it further in, with each push intensifying the pain.

He Xu's body tensed up suddenly, and his hand instinctively pressed against his left ear.

"He Xu!"

Wang Yijun reached out to support his shoulder, but pulled her hand back as soon as she touched it.

He Xu's body was trembling because of the pain.

The lights in the waiting area were so bright that He Xu found them dazzling.

He closed his eyes, then opened them again, everything in his vision was blurred and doubled.

Hurried footsteps came from the other end of the corridor.

The selection and medical team members jogged over.

"Excuse me! Excuse me!" The selection officer's voice boomed in his ears, but He Xu couldn't hear it.

"He Xu, where do you feel unwell? Your ears? Are you dizzy? Do you feel nauseous?"

Questions came one after another, but He Xu didn't answer any of them.

My left ear is completely deaf.

His right ear was still normal, but when the election officer stood to his left and spoke, his voice was blocked in that silence.

"...The left side," He Xu said, his voice so hoarse it was almost a whisper, "I can't hear you."

The medical team members' expressions changed.

The female doctor moved quickly, walked up to He Xu, and shone a flashlight on his left ear.

"There is no obvious external injury to the external auditory canal," she said steadily, "but the condition of the tympanic membrane cannot be seen. I need to go to the hospital for an otoscopy now."

Without saying a word, the selection manager picked up the walkie-talkie and started making calls.

He Xu leaned against the wall, his left ear still throbbing with pain, while his right ear listened to the urgent voice of the selection manager on the walkie-talkie, feeling like he was just observing someone else's affairs.

"He Xu, can you walk?" the doctor asked.

He Xu nodded and straightened up from the wall.

My legs are still weak, but I can walk.

After taking a few steps, he paused as he passed the corridor connecting the waiting area and the stage.

At the other end of the corridor, Team B of "Blade" was waiting to go on stage.

Six people stood in a row; some were doing final stretches, some were reciting lyrics, and some were flexing their wrists.

Yang Sheng stood at the front of the line, wearing a black stage costume with silver trim on the collar that shimmered slightly under the lights.

As he was walking towards the stage, he caught a glimpse of the commotion at the other end of the corridor and saw He Xu.

Yang Sheng paused for a moment.

His lips moved, as if he wanted to call out "teacher," but he swallowed the word back.

He Xu looked at him, and the corners of his mouth curved slightly.

The curve was so subtle that it was almost invisible.

Then he raised his right hand and gave Yang Sheng an "OK" sign.

—I'm fine.

—Go on stage, don't worry about me.

—Jump well.

Yang Sheng nodded.