Amateur talent show? Top mentors are my students.

After the rehearsal ended, the contestants walked out in twos and threes. Some were quietly discussing their positioning, while others were looking down at their phones. Everyone dragged their feet toward the cafeteria.

He Xu walked at the back of the line, holding the process sheet rolled into a tube in his hand, his pace neither hurried nor slow.

His throat was so hoarse he was practically burning. All he wanted to do was go back to his dorm, lie down, drink a big glass of warm water, and wait for some kind person to bring him food.

He heard a voice at the corner of the corridor.

"...So you mean you want me to deliberately make a mistake?"

He Xu stopped in his tracks.

The sound came from the stairwell on the other side of the corner, faint yet clear, separated by half a wall.

He recognized the voice—Qi Xunan.

He Xu did not go over immediately.

He leaned against the wall, tilting his head to the side, his right ear facing the direction from which the sound came.

Another voice rang out, belonging to a middle-aged man, his tone leaving no room for negotiation: "It's not that I 'want you' to make a mistake on purpose, it's that I 'suggest' you control your performance."

"You can't be too outstanding on stage in the third round. Just stay in the middle. Don't make it to the finals, and don't let the audience feel that you were unfairly eliminated."

Qi Xunan's voice was a little higher than usual: "...I don't understand. I've practiced for so long, and you want me to hold back on stage?"

"You understand, Xu Nan." The agent lowered his voice, "Your parents' meaning is very clear—after the show ends, you go home and do whatever you were doing before."

"The better you perform, the harder it will be for them to handle. Your name will be all over the trending topics; how will your parents let you leave then?"

He Xu leaned against the wall, and upon hearing this, he slowly clenched the flowchart in his hand.

"But—" Qi Xunan's voice finally trembled, "This is my stage... I've practiced for so long, not to pretend to lose on stage."

"You think I wanted you to do this?" The agent's voice carried a hint of annoyance. "You were able to get into this show because your parents voted for it. You enjoyed opportunities that others didn't have, so you have to pay the corresponding price."

"Besides, it's not that you can't dance, just don't let too many people see you—once the hype dies down, you can dance however you want."

The stairwell was quiet for a few seconds.

He Xu straightened up from the wall and walked over.

He pushed open the door to the stairwell.

The door hinges made a slight clicking sound, which was particularly clear in the quiet stairwell.

Qi Xunan stood in front of the window in the stairwell, his back to the door, his shoulders slightly tense.

Standing opposite him was a man in his early forties, wearing a dark gray suit and holding a folder. His expression froze the moment he saw He Xu.

"Teacher He." Qi Xunan turned her head to look at him, her voice slightly hoarse, "...Why are you here?"

"Just passing by." He Xu walked up to him and stopped, his gaze fixed on the agent's face. "I heard people discussing how to fix a match, so I came in to see what was going on."

The agent frowned: "Mr. He Xu, this is an internal company communication and has nothing to do with you."

"Internal communication?" He Xu tilted his head, his tone unchanged. "You're having your own players deliberately make mistakes on stage, what kind of internal communication is that?"

"I didn't make him make a mistake on purpose," the agent's voice deepened slightly, "I just suggested he—"

"I advised him not to dance too well," He Xu continued, "I advised him to stay on the edge of elimination, I advised him to throw away the stage he'd prepared for so long—as his manager, is that all you advised?"

The agent's lips were pressed into a thin line, and his fingers tightened slightly at the edge of the folder.

"Mr. He Xu," his voice finally turned cold, "I am Qi Xunan's agent, and I am responsible for his career planning. As a special mentor of the program, you should not interfere in the contestant's personal affairs."

"His personal affairs?" He Xu's voice rose slightly. "You're telling him to hold back on stage? That's a personal matter?"

"Do you know how many people practiced hundreds of times backstage just to get a few dozen seconds of screen time? You tell him not to dance too well, what about all the other people's hard work?!"

The agent's gaze darkened: "Mr. He Xu, please watch your words. I am representing the program's investors."

He Xu looked at him, remained silent for two seconds, and then smiled.

The smile was faint, but it carried a chilling undertone.

"So," his voice returned to its hoarse, flat tone, "you're threatening me?"

The agent didn't say anything, but his expression said it all.

He Xu took half a step forward, standing between him and Qi Xunan.

The distance between the three people suddenly closed, and the sense of oppression in the air instantly changed.

"Listen carefully." He Xu's voice wasn't loud, but every word was enunciated very clearly. "Qi Xunan is my student! How he dances on stage is his own business."

"If he messes up the jump, it's because he hasn't practiced enough, I accept that. But you're letting him deliberately mess up—"

He paused, his gaze fixed on his agent's face, showing no sign of backing down.

"Then you're harming him, and I'll never let you get away with it."

The agent's lips twitched, as if he wanted to speak, but He Xu didn't give him the chance.

"It's true that his parents voted for this show," He Xu said calmly. "But even if they are his parents, they can't buy his life with money—think it through."

Without waiting for his agent's reply, he turned to Qi Xunan.

"If your parents think dancing is a waste of time, that's their business. Whether you want to dance or not is your business. When you're on stage, the audience is watching you, not your parents."

Qi Xunan's eyelashes trembled.

He Xu looked at the boy and unconsciously softened his tone: "If you want to jump, then jump; if you don't want to jump, then don't jump."

"How others arrange your life is their business. Your life is in your hands, not theirs."

The stairwell remained quiet for a long time.

Qi Xunan finally spoke: "...Teacher He."

"Um."

"I know what to do."

He Xu finally turned his head and glanced at him.

The boy's eyes were slightly red, but his gaze was firm.

"I'll be on stage tomorrow," He Xu said. "I'll just dance however I feel like; what others think doesn't matter."

Qi Xunan looked at him for a few seconds, nodded, then turned around, opened the door, and walked out.

The agent stood there, his face ashen, his lips moving as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he said nothing.

He Xu looked at his expression, took two steps toward the door, turned his head and glanced at him: "Don't think you're so great just because you're an investor. Talent shows are competitions, not a place for you to play tricks."

The door closed.

The corridor lights were blindingly white. He Xu leaned against the wall for a while, then looked down at his hands—which had somehow become clenched into fists.

He slowly unrolled the process chart, pulled it out of his pocket, and tucked it back under his arm.

A very soft sound came from the stairwell.

He Xu didn't turn around and continued walking out.

Behind them, the door opened a crack, letting in a sliver of dim light.