Amateur talent show? Top mentors are my students.

The recording of the first stage performance ended at 1 a.m.

The contestants filed out of the studio, some excited, some frustrated, and some still reviewing their mistakes on stage, muttering to themselves.

He Xu walked at the very back of the group, hands in his pockets, his steps leisurely, like a creature from a different world from the group of young people in front of him who were either crying or laughing.

Lu Yiming stood beside him, his tears had stopped, but his eyes were still red and swollen—he had just sung an original song, which was good, but he forgot the lyrics halfway through and only got a D in the end.

Li Bufan circled around He Xu, still in a state of excitement, his mouth never stopping: "Brother He Xu, how did you do that wave? I felt like all the bones in your body were separated!"

"And that backflip, how did you manage to get up with just one hand? Have you practiced martial arts? Or are you actually an alien?"

"..."

"Brother He Xu, say something!"

"You're asking too many questions." He Xu's voice was hoarse and low, carrying a lazy tone of being disturbed. "I'll only answer three."

Li Bufan immediately shut up, his eyes sparkling.

"First, core strength. Second, no. Third, not."

After saying that, He Xu quickened his pace, leaving Li Bufan, who was still counting questions on his fingers, behind.

Back in the dressing room, the contestants gathered in small groups, chatting about the stage performance, the judges' comments, and who got an A and who got an F.

As soon as He Xu entered, the previously noisy room immediately became as quiet as a classroom with a teacher.

Several pairs of eyes fell on him simultaneously.

He walked towards the corner where he had been sitting, ignored it, picked up the half-finished bottle of mineral water, unscrewed the cap, and took a sip.

"Um... Brother He Xu?"

An unfamiliar voice came from the side.

He Xu turned his head and saw a boy with a small braid standing two steps away, holding a mobile phone in his hand, looking nervous and expectant.

"Could I add you on WeChat? I'm a choreographer, and I just watched your performance. I think you're amazing, and I'd like to ask you for some advice..."

He Xu glanced at him, his gaze sweeping over him from top to bottom as if assessing something.

Which song did you dance to?

"The seventh group, that ballad..."

He Xu thought for a moment but couldn't remember, so his habit of being a chatterbox kicked in again.

"It was too ordinary, I don't remember it."

He Xu spoke these words casually, yet they delivered a violent blow to the other party.

The boy with the ponytail's smile froze on his face. His fingers gripped his phone, unsure whether to move forward or backward, as if he were nailed to the spot.

Several contestants who were eavesdropping nearby gasped in shock.

—This person has such a sharp tongue!

Seeing his frozen expression, He Xu finally took pity and added, "Your spin was too off-center. Your knee buckled inward when you landed, injuring your meniscus. Go back and fix it."

After saying that, he took out his phone, displayed the QR code, and handed it over.

The boy with the braid paused for two seconds, his eyes suddenly reddened, he hurriedly scanned the QR code, thanked them repeatedly, and practically floated away.

Several more people immediately crowded around, eager to join in.

"I want to join too, Brother He Xu!"

"Brother He Xu, which studio are you from? Can I take lessons from you in the future?"

"Brother He Xu, do you accept students?"

Before He Xu could answer, a loud voice came from the doorway, drawing everyone's attention in the dressing room—

"Excuse me, excuse me! The election officials are here to collect cell phones!"

Staff members pushed in a small cart and collected the contestants' communication devices one by one.

This is a rule set by the production team—during filming, all contestants' phones are kept in a unified manner to prevent spoilers.

When He Xu handed over the phone, the screen was still lit up, displaying a message he hadn't had time to reply to.

The note is "一恆".

The message contained only four words: Teacher, stop messing around.

He Xu pressed the power button expressionlessly and threw the phone into the storage box.

-

The contestants' dormitory is a classic four-person room, with two bunk beds placed against the wall, a narrow aisle in the middle, four small wardrobes squeezed against the door, and a private bathroom so small that it's difficult to even turn around.

When He Xu pushed open the door with his backpack, the other three had already arrived.

I know quite a few people there.

Lu Yiming was tidying up his things when he looked up and saw He Xu. His glasses almost slipped off his nose: "He... Brother He Xu?! You're in this dorm too?"

He Xu hummed in agreement and glanced at the other two beds.

On the lower bunk opposite, a person with dyed orange hair was lying sprawled out, scrolling through a tablet, his headphone cord tangled around his neck.

"Brother He Xu!" Li Bufan sat up with a jolt, his earphone cord snapping loudly as it was pulled. "I knew it! We're destined to be together! We even ended up in the same dorm!"

He Xu ignored him and turned his gaze to the last person.

On the upper bunk by the window, a boy was sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing headphones and resting with his eyes closed.

Hearing the noise, he slowly opened his eyes.

A very beautiful face—delicate features, fair skin, and black wisps of hair falling over her forehead, making her eyes appear particularly indifferent.

He took off one earphone, glanced at He Xu's face, and nodded indifferently: "Wang Yijun, from Class B."

After saying that, he put his headphones back on and closed his eyes.

There was no intention to exchange pleasantries.

Li Bufan muttered to himself, "He's such a cold person..."

Lu Yiming also shrank his neck.

He Xu didn't care. He had all sorts of students among his students, so he was used to it.

As long as it's not boring, it's fine.

-

There is almost no rest time.

At 6:30, the dormitory's loudspeaker came on right on time, playing a high-energy K-pop song, loud enough to wake a dead person.

He Xu pulled the blanket over his head and turned over.

The broadcast continued.

He turned over again.

The broadcast was still playing.

He sat up abruptly, his hair a mess, his eyes filled with a murderous intent that seemed to say, "Who's looking for death?"

The lower bunk opposite was empty; the blanket was rolled up and stuffed at the foot of the bed. It was obvious that the person had never served in the military or lived in a dormitory.

Li Bufan was nowhere to be seen.

Lu Yiming, who was in the bunk above him, was still sleepily touching his glasses, while Wang Yijun was already dressed and sitting at the table tying her shoelaces.

"Breakfast ends at seven," he kindly reminded him, then opened the door and left.

He Xu took a deep breath.

I wanted to swear, but my voice, which had just cleared up, was even more hoarse, and I didn't even have the strength to swear.

Forget it.

Wash up, change clothes, and go out.

The cafeteria was already quite full.

He Xu carried a bowl of white porridge, steamed buns, and pickled vegetables, and found a corner to sit down.

Just as I took my first bite of the steamed bun, someone sat down opposite me—Yang Sheng, with dark circles under his eyes, indicating he hadn't slept well the night before.

"Teacher," Yang Sheng said in a low voice, his expression as serious as if he were making a rendezvous.

He Xu gave a vague "hmm".

"Why are you here?"

"Participate in the talent show."

"I know! But didn't you say that one should be humble?"

"I've changed my mind."

Why?

"boring."

Yang Sheng was speechless.

"What will happen to us if you debut?"

He Xu stopped chewing and glanced at him: "You guys go do what you're supposed to do."

"But--"

"I'll only take one of the seven debut spots; you can fight for the remaining six yourselves."

Yang Sheng opened his mouth, realizing something was amiss.

"Besides," He Xu took a sip of porridge, his gaze sweeping across the cafeteria, "do you really think I'm the kind of person who can stay on this show for long?"

Yang Sheng was taken aback: "What do you mean?"

He Xu didn't answer, but just smiled—a self-deprecating smile, yet also one of relief.

Yang Sheng wanted to ask more, but when he caught a glimpse of Song Yingwen and Jiang Yang carrying trays of food, he immediately shut up.

"Hello, Teacher He!" Jiang Yang put down his plate, but Song Yingwen kicked him, so he changed his address to "Hello, Brother He Xu."

He Xu nodded and continued drinking his porridge.

The three boys sat upright, not daring to even make a sound while chewing.

He Xu glanced at them: "Relax, it's just a meal. I've never seen you guys so serious before."

The three of them breathed a sigh of relief, their shoulders slumped, and they began to eat normally.