Amateur talent show? Top mentors are my students.

The waiting area was dimly lit, with only a few emergency lights casting a yellowish glow in the corners.

Li Bufan stood at the entrance of the passage, a small patch of the collar of his black stage costume dampened by Lu Yiming's tears.

He glanced down at it, rubbed it with his fingertip, but couldn't wipe it off, so he simply gave up.

He took a deep breath, suppressing the surge of emotion, and then patted his cheeks.

"Stop thinking about it, stop thinking about it, it's time to go on stage, it's time to go on stage."

A teammate's voice came from behind: "Li Bufan, what are you muttering about?"

"I'm just trying to cheer myself up." He turned around, a bright smile on his face. "What, is it not okay?"

His teammate glanced at him but didn't say anything.

Li Bufan didn't explain either.

He turned around and faced the stage.

The light at the end of the corridor shone through the crack in the door, a warm golden light illuminating a small patch of the gray cement floor.

He stared at the light for a while, then let out a soft breath.

tension.

He admitted he was nervous.

I was more nervous than on the first stage, more nervous than in the first performance, and more nervous than in the second performance.

But he also knew that this tension was different from before.

-

He used to dance in front of a mirror in a small company's practice room.

The company is very small, so small that the entire trainee department has only five people, two of whom are part-time.

There was only one practice room, with cheap gray flooring.

A mirror had a broken corner, which was taped back together, and several boxes of sports drinks nearing their expiration date were piled up in the corner.

Every day after school, he would take the subway for an hour to that place, change his shoes, warm up, turn on his phone to play music, and then dance in front of the mirror for three or four hours.

There was no teacher to teach him, no one to correct him, and no one to tell him where he was wrong or where he was lacking.

He could only learn by watching videos and figuring things out on his own.

Record yourself dancing it once, watch the playback, find fault, dance it again, record it again, and watch it again.

Repeatedly.

The first dance video he posted online was a cover.

That day, he danced forty-seven times before recording a version that he was barely satisfied with. After uploading it, he was so excited that he didn't sleep all night and refreshed the play count every five minutes.

When I woke up the next morning, the number of views was in the double digits.

He comforted himself by saying, "It's okay, take it slow," and then continued jumping.

The second video, three digits.

The third one is also a three-digit number.

The fourth one finally broke through four digits.

He was so happy that he did three somersaults in the practice room, then posted an update saying, "Thank you everyone! I will continue to work hard!"

At that time, he thought that as long as he tried harder and jumped better, someone would eventually see it.

When the audition notice for "Absolute Debut" came out, he was stretching in the practice room.

A notification popped up on his phone, and when he saw the title, his finger hovered over the screen for a long time.

He signed up.

He passed the preliminary selection.

He came to this show and met the trainees from those big companies, and those people who were wearing uniform training clothes and whose postures exuded discipline.

He admitted he panicked.

On the day of his first stage performance, he watched those people stretching their legs, loosening their joints, and rehearsing their positions in the waiting area, each movement exuding a composure he had never experienced before.

He squatted in the corner, looking down at his shoelaces, thinking to himself, "I guess I really am different from other people."

But that panic only lasted a short while.

Because He Xu came.

He Xu sat in the players' section, head down, playing on his phone, his expression indifferent.

Li Bufan didn't know who he was at the time, but he thought the man was very good-looking, so he went over and started a conversation.

"Hey buddy, let's get to know each other."

Then He Xu looked up at him, and Li Bufan still finds the look in that glance hilarious when he thinks about it now.

It's a kind of disdainful "Who are you?" attitude.

But he did not back down.

He struck up a conversation with He Xu, added him on WeChat, got scolded by him, and then shamelessly followed him to learn dance.

He listened with a smile when He Xu scolded him, and he studied diligently when He Xu taught him.

He knew he started from a low point, but he never felt that starting from a low point was anything shameful.

He felt that as long as he kept moving forward, there was nothing to be afraid of.

Before coming to "Absolute Debut", he felt like a small fish that could swim fairly fast in a small pond.

When I arrived, I realized that there was the sea outside.

There are sharks like Yang Sheng, whales like Qi Xunan, and cold-water fish like Wang Yijun.

But he wasn't afraid.

Even small fish have their own path.

Even small fish can swim to where they want to go.

"The 'Chasing the Light' team, please take your positions."

The stage manager's voice came through the walkie-talkie.

Li Bufan suddenly snapped out of his daze and realized he was still standing at the entrance of the passage, staring blankly at the light.

"Here they come!" He turned around and waved to his teammates behind him. "Let's go, let's go on stage!"

When he walked onto the stage, the spotlights were not yet fully on; only a few basic lights outlined the stage.

He stepped onto that familiar yet unfamiliar floor, stood in his place, and glanced to the side—

Shen Yiheng stood diagonally in front of him, his silver-gray suit reflecting slightly under the stage lights.

His expression was that familiar, gentle, and reassuring smile.

"Nervous?" Shen Yiheng asked in a low voice.

"A little," Li Bufan said.

"It's normal," Shen Yiheng said. "But don't be afraid."

"I'm not afraid," Li Bufan said. "I'm just—a little excited."

-

He Xu sat behind the monitoring console, tapping the casing of the walkie-talkie with his right index finger, his gaze fixed on the split screen.

The sound team had already increased the background noise of the intro, and the spotlight on the stage slowly rose from dark to bright.

He Xu's gaze fell on Li Bufan.

To be honest, he never had high expectations for Li Bufan from the beginning.

This kid is enthusiastic, resilient, and photogenic, but he's too wild.

Dancing is like letting loose, timing relies on intuition, and once emotions get the better of you, you can't stop.

But this time, it seems a little different.

On stage, the spotlight is already in place.

The moment the music started, He Xu's gaze was fixed on Li Bufan.

To his surprise, Li Bufan's first few eight-beat shots were extremely stable.

The movements lacked the strained, overly forceful feel of some movements; instead, they were restrained, allowing the rhythm to flow naturally to the dance itself.

This is what he lacked most before – control.

During the floor work in the chorus, his landing was clean and crisp, and his starting motion was without any unnecessary swaying.

During the interaction and movement with Shen Yiheng in the middle, he did not subconsciously amplify his movements as the camera zoomed in. Instead, he maintained his core and cooperated with his partner to complete a smooth formation switch.

He Xu glanced at it for a few seconds, then leaned back in his chair.

Han Yu peeked out from behind and asked, "How was it?"

"...Not bad." He Xu unusually refrained from adding insult to injury. "This husky was pretty good today."

Han Yu was stunned for a moment, but the director next to him reacted first: "Teacher He, were you praising someone just now?"

"I praised him, so what?"

"Oh my goodness, you can actually compliment people now? Teacher He, did you take the wrong medicine today?"

He Xu glanced at him: "Do you also want to experience what it's like to be praised?"

The director immediately shut up and lowered his head, pretending to adjust the equipment.

The performance by the "Shine" group on stage was just coming to an end.

When Li Bufan's last movement came to a standstill, the entire audience erupted in screams.

He Xu looked at the face on the screen, soaked in sweat but laughing carefree, and the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.