IDEI Ch24

That tear flowed gently down, dripping from his chin and leaving behind a single crystalline trail. Lou Yuxing reached up and lightly wiped it away.

He let out a hollow, distant smile. The stage lights abruptly dimmed, and in a mere split second, the boundless darkness swallowed him whole.

The quiet darkness lingered for an unknown stretch of time. Murmurs stirred across the audience, and the live stream comments were equally baffled.

[That’s it?]

[Wait, where’s the mentor?]

[Yeah, the mentor didn’t appear at all!]

……

When the lights flared up once more, the audience was startled to discover two figures standing on the stage.

One was Lou Yuxing with his half-bare, half-theatrical makeup. The other was a woman dressed in full traditional opera regalia, who had to be the mentor for this stage.

Both assumed their opening postures simultaneously: lifting their eyes, stepping forward, their stage movements completely identical, as if mirror images.

One clear and soaring, one low and resolute, their voices blended seamlessly into one, drifting softly into everyone’s ears.

“The barbarian iron cavalry, wolves and jackals alike; there they water their horses by the Yellow River as blood runs red!”

Every operatic note sounded as if weeping tears of blood, each phrase pressing with raw urgency. The entire audience was swept up in the performance. Though neither person exchanged a single word or glance, and their movements remained tightly restrained, a deep sorrow seeped into the hearts of everyone watching.

It was the sorrow of a fallen nation and broken homes, where human lives were trampled like weeds.

Heading into the latter half of the passage, Lou Yuxing’s movements grew sluggish, and his originally clear voice turned somewhat raspy.

Instantly, nitpickers popped up in the live chat.

[That’s it? Singing just two more lines exposed his flaws. Daring to sing opera alongside a grandmaster, truly trying to teach fish how to swim]

[Comparisons really do tell the tale. Standing next to the mentor, Lou Yuxing can’t keep up at all]

Viewers who saw these comments flared with anger, but before they could type their rebuttals, the lyrics had already reached the final line.

Lou Yuxing was a full half-beat behind Lin Zhiping.

“Over which land does the bright moon of my lost nation now shine…”

As the mournful line ended, Lou Yuxing’s trailing note drifted waveringly. As the last note faded, he seemed to lose consciousness in an instant, slumping crookedly toward the floor, collapsing into the darkness of the stage.

The audience erupted in a frenzy. Had a stage accident occurred?

Soon, however, they realized it was purely a stage effect.

The spot where he collapsed was right beside his teammates. The five of them lay huddled together, the sorrow and unwilling despair on their faces faintly visible through the shadows.

At this point, the only one left standing on stage was Lin Zhiping. She gave a graceful bow, her eyes brimming with unspoken emotion. Turning with a lingering backward glance, she walked off without hesitation, leaving behind only the slender silhouette of her retreating figure.

An inexplicable sense of desolate longing swept over every viewer.

The crowd below the stage fell silent for several seconds, followed by a deafening roar of cheers.

[Is this… the curtain falling on an era, where none survive?]

[Ah? Did the opera performer played by Lou Yuxing die too?]

[Hold on, bro, I came here to be entertained, not to hang myself]

[Fine, good, wonderful! You’re making every stage a bad ending now, are you?!]

[Hahahahaha, what a joyful performance… I’m not crazy, I swear I’m not crazy…]

The live stream comments exploded with outrage at the ending. The viewers had been drawn so deeply into the emotional resonance of the performance that accepting such a bleak finale was nearly impossible.

Everyone dead! Director, how dare you!

Yet Director Lin truly dared. Not only did he dare, he was exceptionally pleased with himself.

Watching the viewership numbers and comment volume spike vertically in the backend, Director Lin grinned so broadly that his eyes vanished into slits.

Choosing this stage as the opener was truly a stroke of genius!

He waved his hand grandly, barking out, “Where’s the marketing team? Contact Xingbo and buy trending topics for me right now!”

Before he could even purchase the trends, however, the excited audience had already begun uploading clips of this performance across social platforms, and Xingbo was naturally at the forefront.

@IAmTheWutaiWind: Ahhhhh what a god-tier stage! It was unimaginably good, especially the ending. It genuinely leaves your heart surging with emotions! [Video]

This post was pinned right at the very top of Your Star‘s trending square for the evening. Passing netizens who clicked in saw the glowing recommendation and eagerly queued up the video.

Only to storm furiously into the live broadcast room moments later.

Your Star! You’ve committed every atrocity under the sun! I order you to retract this stage and give them a happy ending, did you hear me!

The newly arrived viewers hammered away angrily at their keyboards.

Meanwhile, on the physical stage, accompanied by thunderous applause and piercing screams from the crowd, the trainees climbed up from the floor. As the lights blazed back on, they greeted the audience below one by one.

The audience’s emotions had yet to cool down. Every time a trainee greeted them, waves of rapturous cheering greeted them in return. By the time it was Lou Yuxing’s turn to introduce himself, the roars grew so loud that they interrupted him multiple times.

He opened his mouth, unable to proceed. In the end, he pressed his palms together, swaying them gently toward the audience with pleading eyes.

Distinct gasps echoed from below, and the crowd soon fell completely silent.

Lou Yuxing was finally able to speak. He briefly introduced himself, then passed the microphone without hesitation to Lin Zhiping beside him.

Lin Zhiping smiled warmly at the trainees. Although her theatrical makeup was heavy, the affectionate pride and anticipation in her eyes could not be masked.

She said, “The children in our group are all extraordinarily hardworking and creative. Every day, I watched them practicing with earnest devotion, and seeing that filled me with profound comfort.”

Lin Zhiping praised every trainee in turn. When it came to Lou Yuxing, her tone lifted with genuine delight: “Lou Yuxing is a child whose talent in traditional opera ranks among the very best I have ever seen. Furthermore, his fundamentals are rock-solid, and he is remarkably quick to apply what he learns. Seeing young people like him finally sets my mind somewhat at ease. Our cultural heritage still has youths who truly wish to inherit and carry it forward.”

Lin Zhiping’s words carried tremendous weight, and Lou Yuxing’s fans and supportive passersby instantly stood tall in the comments. Many had already been furious about the earlier nitpicking, so they rallied immediately.

[Take a look, who was saying Xingxing was embarrassing himself trying to show off? The mentor herself said Xingxing’s talent is top-tier!]

[Lou Yuxing was even praised for rock-solid fundamentals! Has your bias ever been praised by a national-level master like this?]

[So amazing, Xiao Xing!]

Hearing Lin Zhiping’s lavish praise, Lou Yuxing grew quite bashful. Biting his lip, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. Still not entirely out of character, his movements naturally retained the delicate grace of an operatic dan performer.

Viewers who disliked Lou Yuxing pounced on this as if catching him red-handed, flooding the screen with spiteful comments.

[Just a sissy, nothing more]

[Seriously, stroking his hair and making orchid finger gestures, gross]

[Looks neither male nor female to begin with, and now he’s learning dan roles]

Other viewers were filled with disgust. What century was this, that people still acted like they were living under the Qing Dynasty?

[Please, some of you, stop binding your brains before leaving the house]

[Oh right, right, you don’t do orchid finger gestures, you comb your hair with an axe and wash your face with acid!]

[Disgusting haters, did you forget to brush your teeth before coming online?]

Outnumbered, the trolls quickly retreated under the barrage of counterattacks, falling silent.

With peace restored to the chat, viewers finally had the space to praise Lou Yuxing properly.

[You are so gorgeous, Xiao Xingxing]

[I only just realized traditional opera sounds this beautiful]

[Sang so well! It would be even better if he sat on my lap and sang for me hhhhh]

Amidst the diverse compliments, Lou Yuxing’s group exited the stage, making way for the next team.

Many viewers had assumed that starting with such a breathtaking performance would mean the rest of the show would peak early and drop off.

To their surprise, the subsequent performances were every bit as spectacular.

“A Sword’s Frosty Chill” seemed to transport them straight into a wuxia realm, brimming with the unrestrained chivalry of taking a life in ten paces and leaving no trace for a thousand miles. “Joy and Sorrow” laid bare the twisted oppression of centuries of feudal hierarchy.

“The Scholar” recounted the tragic, cautionary tale of an impoverished student tormented by corrupt officials who ultimately succumbed and became a corrupt official himself. Meanwhile, “Journey to Liangzhou” brought the heroic grandeur and desolate chill of a desert battlefield right before their eyes.

Every stage was crafted with exquisite precision. Lighting, set design, styling, and acoustics aligned seamlessly with the trainees, producing genuinely astonishing performances.

Consequently, the moment the final curtain fell and the live stream went dark, the unsatisfied viewers rushed over to Xingbo. While pitching the show to anyone who would listen, they launched into heated debates over every minute detail of the stages.

Some speculated on narrative lore, some analyzed vocal and dance techniques, while others posted biographies of the master mentors.

And, of course, there was the indispensable visual comparison segment that came with every survival show.

@OnlyLookingAtBeauties: #YourStarFusionOfTraditionalAndModern# Did you all watch Your Star‘s stage tonight? Xiao Mei certainly did, hehehe! Come share your thoughts, which trainee’s visual and styling stunned you the most?

@GorillasHeartToHeart: Xiao Yingyi! Does this guy have a cheat system bound to him? How does he keep getting more handsome! Today’s scholar robes made the image of a top imperial scholar materialize right in my mind!

@WhatAMassiveFace: Mo Jinghai! Too dominant, oh my god, especially when he held that blade, those bulging veins, panting heavily.

@FaceIsEverything: Nominating An Zai, An Zi’ai. An Zai can actually look this delicate! He looks just like an adorable little brother, completely different from his usual noisy self.

……

Opinions flourished in the comments, yet the two most nominated names were Lou Yuxing and, unexpectedly, Yan Zihao.

Yan Zihao’s image as an untamable, rebellious rapper was deeply ingrained in the public mind. His fans were drawn primarily to his skill, with few paying attention to his looks.

Yet anyone who could pull off forehead-baring dreadlocks without a single strand of bangs had clearly had his visuals severely underestimated.

For this performance, his new hairstyle was an absolute revelation.

Gone were the heavy, cumbersome dreadlocks; his hair now looked wonderfully airy. Most of it was swept into a high ponytail atop his head, while delicate braids woven with colored threads and beads lent a playful, exotic touch.

Slender braids framed his face, their beaded tips seeming to chime softly with his movements.

His ending fairy shot in particular left an unforgettable impression.

A stray braid had fallen across his eye, obscuring his vision. He squinted slightly and gave it a soft puff of air, then, catching sight of the panning camera, broke into a dazzling grin.

That flurry of micro-expressions radiated vibrant vitality, like a young tribal prince who had just come of age, blowing a gust of mysterious, dangerous, and untamed exotic wind straight into the hearts of everyone watching.

Leaving them unable to resist smiling along.

***

Other companies in the entertainment industry were thoroughly exhausted by Your Star dominating the hot searches.

Ever since Your Star‘s styling team had apparently unlocked their creative channels, every live stage broadcast saw at least half the trending topics seized by the show.

Initially, when Your Star failed to book celebrity guest performers, industry insiders had rejoiced, laughing behind their backs and secretly hoping the show’s invincible aura would finally shatter.

None of them expected Director Lin to be such an old fox. Blazing an entirely new trail, he invited masters from the Academy of Drama, staging a historic fusion of traditional heritage and modern pop.

Marrying these two styles was notoriously difficult, with countless failed attempts littering the past. Most attempts turned into mismatched disasters, or put old wine into new bottles without any real novelty.

Your Star was an entirely different story. The stage choreography struck the perfect balance, the trainees were hardworking and skilled enough to deliver it flawlessly, and the styling and props, far from holding them back, elevated the performances to new heights. That was the true reason these legendary stages came to life.

Rival agencies realized this as well when reviewing the broadcasts.

Yet this was the harmony of right timing, right place, and right people; they couldn’t replicate it no matter how envious they were.

Your Star‘s trending topics simmered throughout the night. The following day, public praise from official state media added fuel to the fire.

In their editorial, official media outlets lauded Your Star‘s performances as “an organic fusion of traditional art and pop music, a resonance between the ancient and modern, and the harmonious coexistence of artistic value and entertainment.”

Such lofty recognition caused the rival hands plotting behind the scenes to retract immediately. They could only watch helplessly as Your Star draped itself in glory, its viewership exploding yet again.

Director Lin, having read through every single review, practically smiled until his cheeks touched his ears all day long.

Even so, he didn’t exploit the momentum to artificially inflate marketing. Instead, he instructed his somewhat restless operations team to proceed steadily step by step.

“We are currently in a state of blazing glory and peak prosperity, which means every subsequent step must be grounded and stable. Do not get carried away or smug; the lesson of falling harder the higher you climb is right before our eyes,” Director Lin said with earnest gravity.

“The mentor collaboration stage is over. Our next mission is:”

“The third public performance!”

Before the third performance, however, the top-ranking trainees had a side assignment: they were going off-site to shoot a magazine cover.

Backed by Morning Star Entertainment, Your Star possessed formidable resources, with countless fashion companies maintaining long-term partnerships with the agency.

This time, an upper-tier second-line magazine had extended an invitation to Your Star, booking the current top nine trainees for a shoot.

Brimming with excitement and anticipation, the trainees boarded the bus and arrived at the studio location.

Yet all their joy ground to a screeching halt the moment their styling was completed. Staring into the mirrors at themselves and their peers, sheer horror filled their eyes. This kind of styling…

“Xiao-ge…” Gong Jiayu looked pleadingly toward Xiao Yingyi.

Gritting his teeth, Xiao Yingyi approached the assigned stylist. “Teacher, our hair and makeup…”

The stylist rolled his eyes. “This is high fashion. You’re new to the industry, you wouldn’t understand.”

The trainees looked at one another in disbelief.

Oversized, sloppy garments, washed-out brows and ghost-like pale lips, greasy hair plastered flat against their scalps… and you’re calling this fashion?

The trainees huddled together with clenched fists and dark faces, yet none dared voice open defiance.

Rolling his eyes once more, the stylist strutted away with his nose in the air.

Despair was written across every trainee’s face.

Not far off, Qi Yu, who had accompanied the group, slipped away quietly. After several calls to the director went unanswered, she ducked into a secluded corner and dialed Qi Yanning.

“A-Ning, save us! The magazine styling is hideous beyond words! Tell the director quick, our base has been raided!”