Amateur talent show? Top mentors are my students.

"So you're just here to freeload?" He Xu finally turned to look at him. "This is the work area. Is it appropriate for you to sit here?"

"That's appropriate." Han Yu took a sip of coffee, his expression innocent. "I'm a special guest."

"Who specially hired you?"

"I was specially hired by the production team." Han Yu took out a temporary work permit from his pocket and waved it. The lanyard was orange, and the word "guest" was printed on the card.

"They said, 'Would Teacher Han Yu be interested in watching the collaboration stage between the three mentors?' I said yes, and they arranged it for me."

He Xu stared at the work ID for two seconds, then looked away: "...You've got a lot of free time."

"Not bad." Han Yu put his work badge away, leaned back in his chair, and stared at the monitor screen, as if he was really there to observe.

He Xu ignored him and turned her attention back to the screen.

The director was adjusting the equipment on the side, the lighting crew was making final confirmations on the walkie-talkie, and a short, static sound came from the sound crew's end before being suppressed.

Everything is progressing smoothly and methodically.

He Xu glanced down at his phone—6:40 PM, twenty minutes before the show officially started.

He was about to pick up the walkie-talkie to double-check the last few nodes of the lighting setup, and his finger had just touched the call button when Han Yu next to him patted him on the shoulder.

"Look." Han Yu gestured with his chin, indicating that he should look at the surveillance footage from the audience seats.

He Xu followed his gaze.

One of the four split screens faces the front row of the audience.

The signs in that area were already lit up.

Light signs of various colors lit up intermittently in the crowd—warm white, pink, blue, and orange—each printed with different names and support slogans.

He saw the names of many players.

The red light board spells out "Yang Sheng," with the smaller words "The God of Seventeen" next to it; the blue light board has the three words "Qi Xunan" written in smooth characters, surrounded by a silver light strip.

Some people held up light boards with "Wang Yijun" on them, while others held up signs with "Li Bufan." Although there weren't many of them, they were quite eye-catching in the sea of ​​support.

But what surprised him most was seeing his own name.

On the left side of the audience seating, about four or five rows away, a small area was lit up with warm orange lights, forming a not-too-dense but conspicuous sea of ​​lights.

The lettering on the sign was small, but every character was clearly written—He Xu.

Below that was a line of smaller print, which was also clearly visible when read together: "The sun rises in the east, Teacher He, go for it!"

He Xu stared at the sea of ​​warm orange lights for a few seconds.

Then he turned his head and said, somewhat stubbornly, "...The stage manager also has fan support?"

"Isn't that strange?" Han Yu replied with a smile. "I think it's quite strange too."

He Xu glanced at him and turned his gaze back to the stage.

The stage lights were on, and warm golden light poured down from above, enveloping the entire stage in a soft halo.

The commotion in the audience grew louder and louder, like distant waves surging towards the stage.

Some people were shouting the contestants' names, some were screaming, and some were waving their cheering sticks. The warm orange sea of ​​lights stood out in the crowd.

He Xu stood behind the monitoring console, holding a walkie-talkie in his hand.

"...Is the lighting team ready?"

"Ready."

"The sound system?"

"Ready in position."

He Xu took a deep breath and pressed the call button on the walkie-talkie: "Recording of the third public performance, five minutes to go, everyone pay attention."

A unified response came from the walkie-talkie.

Han Yu sat to one side, watching him with great interest.

Five minutes later, all the lights went out, leaving only a spotlight shining on the side of the stage.

Shen Yiheng walked out from the side of the stage. The spotlight followed him. He was wearing a silver-gray suit and a neatly tied tie. His steps were unhurried, each step resonating with the emotions of the audience.

The screams reached their peak at that moment.

He Xu's gaze fell on Shen Yiheng, scanning him from head to toe.

"He's in good spirits today," Han Yu said from the side.

"Um."

"Aren't you going to say a few words of praise to him?"

"He can't hear me when I praise him," He Xu said calmly. "Why would I praise him?"

Han Yu chuckled and then said nothing more.

Shen Yiheng walked to the center of the stage, stood still, and raised the microphone. The screams from the audience gradually subsided, and everyone's eyes were focused on the person in the center of the stage.

"Welcome everyone to the third performance of 'Absolute Debut'."

"Ah!!! — Shen Yiheng!!!" The fans' screams almost drowned out his voice.

Shen Yiheng pretended to cover his ears: "Dear fans, your screams are almost deafening me."

This only provoked even more intense shouts.

He Xu stood behind the monitoring console, his gaze rapidly switching between the four split screens.

The director had already started moving, and the camera slowly zoomed in from a wide shot, panning across the excited faces in the audience, before cutting back to Shen Yiheng in the center of the stage.

"Tonight, eight groups, eight stages, four mentors and contestants will work together to complete this collaboration." Shen Yiheng regained his seriousness, turned to the side, and gestured towards the giant screen behind him, "Next, the third performance—officially begins."

"Please welcome the first group, mentor Zhou Wei and his trainees, with the theme 'Embers,' and the song 'After the Fireworks Die'!"

The spotlight dimmed, plunging the entire studio into darkness.

A few seconds later, a beam of light fell straight down from directly above the stage and hit Zhou Wei.

He stood in the center of the stage, wearing a dark gray shirt, his expression as serious as ever, but his eyes shone slightly under the spotlight.

He simply stood there, waiting for the last note of the intro to fade away, and then raised the microphone.

Open up.

The moment Zhou Wei's voice came from the speakers, He Xu, sitting behind the monitoring console, unconsciously stopped his finger on the call button on the walkie-talkie.

He had never seriously listened to Zhou Wei's songs.

Normally, I've only listened to a few songs in the practice room or through headphones.

But this was the first time he had ever heard Zhou Wei sing live on stage.

Zhou Wei's singing voice is completely different from his usual speaking voice.

When he speaks, he's like a block of ice—cold, hard, and devoid of warmth.

But when he started singing, that coldness transformed into a restraint that enveloped warmth.

He sang a few lines, then took half a step back.

The five people behind him emerged from the shadows, their snow-white shirts gradually becoming visible, like flames rekindled from ashes.

The first one is Lu Yiming.

He was standing to Zhou Wei's right, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his glasses off—He Xu had never seen him without his glasses.

Without the glasses frames obscuring their view, her eyes appeared larger and more sparkling under the stage lights.

His fingers, which were gripping the microphone, turned slightly white, but when he spoke, his nervousness was instinctively suppressed.

His voice was different from Zhou Wei's; it was clearer, brighter, and had a slightly raw quality that hadn't been polished by too many techniques.

But every word is pronounced clearly, and every melody line pushes forward along with the emotions of the whole song.

He Xu stared at the close-up of Lu Yiming on the monitor screen, remained silent for a few seconds, and then took his hand off the walkie-talkie.

The director next to him turned his head and glanced at him: "Teacher He? Don't we need to adjust it?"

"No need," He Xu said.

The director seemed a little surprised, but nodded and turned his attention back to the screen.