Amateur talent show? Top mentors are my students.

When the spotlight fell, Qi Xunan felt as if he were standing in a giant fish tank.

The light pressed down directly from above, enveloping him in a pale halo.

The stage was dark all around; he couldn't see the audience seats, the waiting area, or the familiar or unfamiliar faces.

The only thing left in the world was the shiny floor beneath my feet and the row of silent cameras in front of me.

He could hear his own heartbeat.

It hit my chest quickly and heavily, one blow after another.

Qi Xunan closed his eyes.

The events of the past few days flashed through his mind, quickly, as quickly as a frame of an old video being played at an accelerated speed—

He remembered the little boy who was sent to a dance class by his parents many years ago.

He remembers being very happy at the time, thinking he could learn to sing and dance there.

When his parents picked him up after the first class, they told him, "Learning dance is just for physical training, don't take it too seriously. You should focus on your studies in the future."

He recalled showing his parents a dance video he had recorded when he was fifteen.

After watching the video, the father put the phone back on the table and said calmly, "Not bad, but can that fill an empty stomach?"

He recalled that when he entered the company for training, his family's attitude seemed to have suddenly changed. His parents did not stop him and even helped him contact people in the industry.

He initially thought they had finally come to their senses, but later he realized they just wanted him to experience society, to know how difficult this industry really is, and then he would "bump into a wall" and eventually go home.

He recalled the night he was assigned to Class B, squatting alone in the corner of the practice room, staring blankly at the data of the initial stage direct-shot videos on his phone—there were fans, there was support, there was popularity.

He had nothing.

He recalled how he later moved up to Class A, gained fans, gained popularity, and had those light sticks and support that he never dared to dream of before.

Then his agent said to him in the stairwell, "Your parents said that after the show ends, you should go home and do whatever you need to do."

These fragments swirled in Qi Xunan's mind, then swirled again, finally settling on a face.

He Xu.

The man stood under the corridor light, his voice hoarse and flat; he remembered every word of what he said very clearly—

"If you want to jump, then jump; if you don't want to jump, then don't jump. Your life is in your own hands, not theirs."

Time didn't allow him to drift off for long; the music started playing.

The moment he started to move, He Xu knew that this person was destined to win.

He Xu sat behind the monitoring console, his eyes following the figure on the stage.

From the very first eight beats, he knew that Qi Xunan didn't take that agent seriously at all.

Qi Xunan jumped so well.

It was so good that He Xu could see that he had poured all the things that had been suppressed for too long into this dance.

Every movement was more forceful than during rehearsals, yet still controlled.

The tension that had been released after being imprisoned for so long finally seeped out from every angle of his fingertips, waist, and knees.

He Xu looked at the several split screens on the monitor that simultaneously captured Qi Xunan's silhouette, and the corners of his mouth slowly curved into a smile.

Even Han Yu, who only comes occasionally, noticed something was up. He leaned over and whispered, "This kid's in good form today. He wasn't this intense during rehearsals."

"People will always rebel when they're forced into a corner," He Xu said. "Today is a day of rebellion."

"Did you force him to do that?"

"Bullshit! Is that how you see me?" He Xu suddenly elbowed Han Yu, causing the latter to wriggle his hands in pain.

When Qi Xunan's ending pose was frozen, the screams from the entire audience completely spiraled out of control.

Some people in the front row of the audience stood up, some waved light sticks wildly, and some covered their mouths and cried.

The bright blue signs bearing the words "Qi Xunan" stretched out in the darkness, resembling a luminous river.

Qi Xunan paused for a moment when he reached the entrance to the waiting area.

He turned his head slightly and nodded very lightly towards the monitoring station, about half a studio away.

He Xu saw it.

He didn't say anything, but simply reached out and pulled the brim of his hat down even further.

Shen Yiheng on stage took the microphone and began to recite the introduction for the next group of performers.

The atmosphere in the entire venue was pushed higher and higher, and one spectacular stage after another brought the audience's enthusiasm to its peak.

Xu Shutong's Group A "Echo" – Jiang Yang stood in the front row.

The chorus of that song has an extremely long, sustained high note, and Xu Shutong was always worried that he wouldn't be able to hold it during rehearsals.

But Jiang Yang sang it all, his performance was surprisingly steady for a sixteen-year-old.

Zhou Wei's Group A song "Embers" is a lyrical piece.

The dance movements are not large, but the emotions build up layer by layer, like a pot of water slowly boiling.

Xu Shutong's Group B performance, "Cracks," marks the first time Song Yingwen and Wang Yijun have collaborated in the same group.

The two have opposite styles—Song Yingwen is steady and Wang Yijun is aloof—but when they stand together, they create a wonderful complementarity.

They practiced the symmetrical double movement in the chorus countless times, and finally presented that tension that was both distant and close on stage.

Xu Shutong stood in the middle of them, her long hair blowing in the wind.

The three voices blended together, making the line "The deeper the crack, the brighter the light" send chills down everyone's spines.

Jung Jae-won's Group A "Breaking the Cocoon" is the second to last group tonight.

Zhao Tianyu stood in the front row, his expression much more serious than usual.

His dance is usually known for its power, but tonight he was more restrained. He performed the continuous spins in the chorus steadily and neatly, and his landing was even cleaner than during rehearsals.

The singing part was also steady, and the breath did not break due to the high-intensity movements.

But Liu Xinyang's condition was not right from the beginning.

His position was to Zhao Tianyu's left. During the floor movement in the first verse of the chorus, he was half a beat slower when he started. Although he managed to keep up with the rhythm, the range of motion was noticeably reduced.

When Shen Yiheng's Group A performance of "Dark Night" was the final act, the studio lights were dimmed to the extreme.

Yang Sheng stood in the center, his black stage costume almost blending into the background, leaving only his angular face outlined by the spotlight.

The music is a somber electronic sound, like some kind of giant beast churning in the deep sea.

The audience erupted in the most unified screams and applause of the entire night the moment he landed.

The two characters "Yang Sheng" on the light board were held high, forming a wall of light.

With this, all eight performances of the three public performances have come to an end.

The lights came on, and forty people walked up from both sides of the stage and stood in three rows.

Yang Sheng stood in the center of the first row, his black stage costume still damp with sweat, glistening slightly under the lights.

His breathing had calmed down, but his chest was still rising and falling, and the lingering warmth of the dance remained on his fingertips.

He turned his head, his gaze passing over the crowd and landing on a familiar figure on the side of the stage.

He Xu was standing at the edge of the monitoring station, arms crossed, hat brim pulled low.

He felt the gaze, but didn't turn his head; he simply raised his hand and pressed his earplugs.

Shen Yiheng walked up from the side of the stage, his silver-gray suit reflecting the light slightly.

He had no script card, only a microphone and an envelope.

"Thank you to all the contestants for their performances tonight." Shen Yiheng's voice resonated throughout the studio through the speakers, deep and steady. "I know you've been waiting for a long time."

The audience held their breath.

"According to the rules—after the third performance, the top five contestants under each mentor will stay, and the bottom five will be eliminated, based on a combination of audience votes and mentor Jin Xian's advice."

Shen Yiheng paused, his gaze sweeping from the first row to the third, looking at each row one by one from left to right.

"Twenty people will leave this stage."