Amateur talent show? Top mentors are my students.

After Shen Yiheng finished speaking, the studio was silent for about three seconds.

In those three seconds, He Xu stood behind the monitoring station, his gaze sweeping across the four split screens in turn—a panoramic view of the stage, an overhead shot of the audience seats, a front view of the contestants' seats, and a side view of the waiting area.

Each screen displays a still, frozen, breathless image.

Then Shen Yiheng opened the envelope in his hand.

"Groups will be announced starting with Group A, led by Professor Zhou Wei, based on the mentors."

"Zhou Wei's Group A, 'Embers,' what remains is—"

Shen Yiheng lifted his gaze from the letter and swept it over the row of contestants standing ramrod straight on the left side of the stage.

"Lu Yiming".

He Xu saw Lu Yiming sway slightly, and he immediately breathed a sigh of relief. He swayed for a moment, then suddenly stood up straight again.

The player next to him reached out to help him up, but he didn't look at the other person; he just kept his head down, his shoulders shaking.

He Xu looked away from the screen, took a sip of water from his thermos, and then looked up again.

"Group A, mentor Xu Shutong, left behind the 'Echo'—"

"Jiang Yang".

Jiang Yang stood in the first row on the right, and his eyes reddened the moment he heard his name called.

"Instructor Jung Jae-won's Group B, 'The Cage,' what remains is—"

"Qi Xunan."

He Xu's gaze fell on Qi Xunan.

The person stood in the middle of the crowd, still wearing his black stage costume, with no expression on his face.

But He Xu noticed that his hand, which was hanging by his side, which was originally clenched into a fist, slowly relaxed the moment he heard his name.

It was as if someone had snatched something he had been holding onto for too long from between his fingers.

"Instructor Shen Yiheng's Group A, 'Dark Night,' what remains is—"

"Yang Sheng".

Yang Sheng stood in the middle of the first row. When he heard his name called, his eyelashes didn't even tremble; he just nodded slightly.

He Xu looked at his overly calm demeanor and the corners of his mouth curved slightly.

Keep pretending.

You must be secretly overjoyed, right?

"Xu Shutong's Group B, 'The Crack,' what remains is—"

"Song Yingwen, Wang Yijun."

The two names were pronounced together, as if they were destined to stay together forever.

"In Professor Shen Yiheng's Group B, 'Chasing the Light,' what remains is—"

"Li Bufan".

Li Bufan's dirty orange hair swayed under the light.

He stood in the line, and when he heard his name called, he jumped as if a switch had been flipped, then quickly composed himself.

But his mouth movements were clear—he was silently repeating the word: "Holy shit."

He Xu smiled.

"Team A, mentor Jung Jae-won, 'Breaking the Cocoon,' what remains is—"

Shen Yiheng paused for a moment.

The pause was brief, but it was particularly noticeable in the quiet studio.

"Zhao Tianyu".

Liu Xinyang was not called on.

It seemed like a matter of course.

He Xu didn't know why, but he felt a sense of relief.

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the low-hanging figure at the edge of the stage.

Liu Xinyang stood at the very end of the crowd, head down, fingers twisting the hem of his clothes, shoulders slightly hunched, looking as if something had shrunk him down.

A fellow competitor patted him on the back. He didn't look up, but simply shook his head slightly to indicate that he was alright.

He Xu doesn't pity Liu Xinyang.

He Xu had scolded him, pressured him, and watched him grit his teeth and practice.

Liu Xinyang has indeed improved—from not being able to get up at all, to being able to stumble through the chorus later on.

But that kind of progress isn't enough for this stage.

Not fast enough, not stable enough, not tough enough.

He wasn't strong enough, so he was eliminated.

It's that simple.

On the stage, Shen Yiheng had already read out all the names.

The twenty people who stayed stood in one row, while those who didn't stay stood in another row.

The two groups were less than two meters apart, but the clear distinction between them was clearer than any words could express.

Shen Yiheng stood at the front, microphone raised, his voice tinged with barely perceptible excitement: "The third performance has come to an end. Thank you to every contestant, thank you to every mentor, and thank you to every audience member!"

On the stage, some of the boys were laughing, some were crying, some were wiping away tears with their heads down, and some were looking up to force back their tears.

They stood together, forming a sea of ​​light, with the huge logo of "Absolute Debut" behind them.

The lights, cheers, applause, and tears all blended together, making everyone feel as if they were in another world.

The three public events have finally come to a successful conclusion.

On and off the stage, most people were still immersed in the atmosphere from just now.

He Xu stretched, took off his earplugs, and then got up and walked outside.

The director next to him turned his head and glanced at him: "Teacher He? Leaving already?"

"Otherwise what?" He Xu rolled up the flowchart and tucked it under his arm. "The work's done, what's the point of staying? To watch them cry?"

After saying that, he continued walking out.

-

When He Xu walked to the backstage corridor, the crowd of people leaving the venue had not yet fully emerged.

He leaned against the wall, switched the rolled-up flowchart to his left hand, and took his phone out of his pocket with his right hand. The screen lit up briefly and then went out again.

No new information, nothing important.

He put his phone back and was about to walk towards the lounge when he heard hurried footsteps coming from the other end of the corridor.

"Teacher He!!"

Jiang Yang was the first to rush over, still wearing his stage costume and the microphone at his collar.

When I started running, the microphone swayed on my chest and almost hit my face.

Yang Sheng and Song Yingwen followed behind him. The two walked slower, but their steps carried a clear sense of urgency.

He Xu turned his head away, but before he could speak, Jiang Yang had already stopped in front of him.

"Teacher He! We made it! We all made it!" Jiang Yang's voice was still brimming with excitement after stepping off the stage, his tone rising slightly at the end. "The finals! All three of us made it!"

"I saw it," He Xu said. "Are you speaking so loudly that everyone in the hallway can hear you?"

"So what if I heard it?" Jiang Yang didn't hold back at all, his grin stretching to his ears. "We made it to the finals, can't we at least have a moment to celebrate?"

Yang Sheng and Song Yingwen walked closer and stood in front of He Xu.

Yang Sheng's expression was much more restrained than Jiang Yang's, but the curve of his lips was impossible to suppress, and his eyes were bright and sparkling, a stark contrast to his calm and composed demeanor on stage.

Song Yingwen was the calmest of the three, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed: "Teacher He, all three of us made it to the finals, aren't you going to do something for us?"

He Xu glanced at him: "What does that mean?"

"Treat us to dinner," Song Yingwen said matter-of-factly. "We've done so well, all of us made it to the finals, shouldn't you reward us?"

"What does your success have to do with me?"

"We're your students!" Jiang Yang chimed in, speaking with an air of self-righteousness. "Shouldn't the teacher reward the students for their hard work?"

He Xu looked at the three young faces in front of him and remained silent for two seconds.

"You three, do you think you're all grown up now, daring to bargain with the teacher?"

Yang Sheng chimed in at the opportune moment, "The teacher has it backwards. We just think the teacher is a good person."

He Xu was taken aback by his words and wanted to refute him, but found himself unable to find a starting point.

This kid has gone astray. He used to just bury himself in practicing dancing, but now he's even learned to pick and choose the right angles when flattering people.

Just as he was about to tell these three overbearing guys to go back to shower and change, a voice suddenly came from behind him.

"Of course I'll treat you—but not you guys."

The voice wasn't loud, but it had a slightly hoarse, languid quality.

The last syllable rose slightly, as if the speaker was speaking with a smile.

He Xu paused for a moment.

He turned his head and looked in the direction of the sound.

At the other end of the corridor, the lights were blindingly white, and a person was standing leaning against the wall.

A black leather jacket over a white T-shirt, with the top two buttons of the collar loosely undone.

Her hair was rather long and slightly wavy, with a light brown sheen under the light.

He has deep-set features, with deeper eye sockets than most Asians, a high nose bridge, and a sharp yet smooth jawline.

She has a strong mixed-race look.

She was smiling and waving at him.

He Xu's pupils suddenly contracted.

Jiang Yanbai.