That incident truly was too hurtful.
So much so that, over the years, Bo Jue would instinctively tense up at the mention of the surname Han, subconsciously wanting to shield his friends and family.
He had watched several episodes of “Chosen by the Gods” and became equally wary upon learning that Han Yang was from the Han family.
Who would have thought Han Yang would take the initiative to come to him?
After understanding the basic situation, Bo Jue briefly communicated with Xie Lianyun, and they arranged to meet Xu Le on Monday afternoon.
This matter should not be discussed with Huo Ren for the time being.
It’s not that he doesn’t trust Ren Ren to be unhelpful, but rather because he is leveraging “Chosen by the Gods” to return to the peak of popularity, and afterwards, he needs to use his influence for bigger things.
It’s enough for him and Xie Lianyun to share these burdens.
Dr. Xu was dressed simply, and although his salary allowed him to live comfortably in the capital, his coat bore the marks of being washed repeatedly.
Xie Lianyun, rarely off-shift and resting, felt almost as if he was being let out for air when he saw daylight again.
He ordered a bottle of iced soda, his expression not particularly relaxed.
Xu Le had never thought he would become involved with the entertainment industry, and he was very reserved in his speech at this time.
“I met Han Qu once. At that time, he needed to understand some care plans for depression patients and had a friend trick me into coming over to ask questions.”
Bo Jue unconsciously gripped the handle of his cup, suppressing his anger, and asked, “What did he ask?”
Xu Le, now roughly aware of what had happened, spoke with his head lowered, suppressing his emotions, “What not to do to depression patients.”
Do not trigger their trauma, do not demean their personhood.
Do not emphasize how much burden the patient has placed on friends and family, do not deny all meaning of their existence.
Do not kill them with shame and guilt.
Each of these statements, in reverse, is a perfect poison.
Xu Le spoke slowly, and Xie Lianyun listened silently with his eyes closed, speechless for a long time.
“I am very sorry.”
“No… Even if you hadn’t explained that day, he would have found another doctor, or even done more cruel things for fun.” Xie Lianyun shook his head, “That you still care about this two years later is a valuable kindness.”
Xu Le smiled bitterly, “If your friend… is indeed involved with Mr. Han, I might be the only way to obtain verbal evidence.”
He took out a recording pen and a thin piece of paper from his pocket.
Xie Lianyun and Bo Jue concentrated on the general idea, looked at each other, and shook their heads slightly.
“It’s still not safe enough.”
“Dr. Xu, the stakes are too high this time; we’ll help you avoid danger as much as possible.”
After Han Yang returned to the company, he finally relaxed a lot.
He silently thanked Fu Mingnian for pointing something out to him.
That this matter could be connected through Bo Huan to Bo Jue, to be listened to and trusted, was really not easy.
When Han Yang made eye contact with Bo Jue, he could see a trace of sorrow in his eyes.
The death of Chi Ji meant just another headline for the news, the traffic fleeting.
But for his close friends, it was an indelible, gloomy scar.
If the Han family continued to cover up for the murderer, leaving the Han family was an inevitable choice.
Han Yang steadied himself, praying that things would move in a positive direction, and quickly returned to the trainee dormitory.
This semi-final performance not only involved mentors in their performances, but from instrumental choreography to harmony, everything was set up at the highest level, and each instructor was formidable in their field.
Even without a ranking, just being part of such a rehearsal and performance was an invaluable opportunity for the trainees.
Han Yang joined Feng Jin’s team for this round, while Bo Huan stayed with Huo Ren’s performance team.
According to the rules, both popularity votes and jury scores would count towards the trainees’ rankings, with the highest scores in professionalism and popularity granting certain advantages during the finals.
Rehearsal time was limited, and the mentors, busy with their schedules, would only join for guidance in the middle and later stages.
A group of young men sweated profusely in the dance studio, already more skilled and flexible than they had been months before.
Even so, they had to adapt to the unique styles of different teachers.
Pei Ruye’s team was having a particularly tough time.
Pei Ruye was not typically strict in teaching dance, serving more as a guest mentor.
This time, their performance piece was the American hit “Lemon,” using XV’s Urban choreography with some dizzying elements trimmed.
Before the mentor’s arrival, the students were fairly confident.
The song was very popular, and many university dance clubs had performed it; most were familiar with it, and they thought a quick rehearsal would suffice.
After handling some of his tasks, Pei Ruye first accompanied Huo Ren to the twenty-first floor before returning to the twentieth floor to dance with the trainees.
He wore a loose T-shirt and pushed open the door to find the youths dancing.
“Has it started?” the man smiled, “Don’t stop, let’s go together.”
“Bathsalt, bitin’ speakers in the face——”
At the same moment the trainees paused abruptly in another spin, he slid sideways into their view, lifting his hand and instantly shifting the mood.
The dynamic feel of his limbs, as if his body was performing a visual version of electronic music, instantly infused the beat into his breathing and pulse, his waist and hips moving rhythmically, becoming the focal point of the performance and all eyes.
It wasn’t about repeating choreographed moves or flaunting skills.
The lines were alive, the nodes jumping, dots and lines completely depending on the movement and rotation led by the shoulders, neck, waist, and legs, casually perfected to the extreme.
Eight young men stared at their reflections in the mirror wall for a few seconds before subconsciously catching up with the rhythm and continuing to dance.
The background music wasn’t particularly fast, and most of the rap was easy to sing, yet they lacked the feel of boss Pei.
They could clearly sense the gap, causing a stir of anxious confusion within them.
—Do I even know how to dance??
The song seemed to travel through different scenes, bearing the typical swagger of African-American rap and retaining the hypnotic allure of electronic music.
Even though the man was only dancing in front of the mirror, his back was still casual and sexy.
When the first round ended, Pei Ruye paused his steps and signaled for the music to stop.
“Let’s correct the wrong movements first.” He rolled a newspaper into a tube, speaking in a calm tone, “Elbows high, shoulders tucked—almost everything is wrong. Let’s start over from the first bar.”
The youngsters, who had been smug for days, were quickly disheartened.
A newspaper tube hitting their arms wasn’t painful, but what seemed fine when they danced casually turned out to be full of flaws when scrutinized by the teacher.
It might be the inconsistency between the upper and lower body rhythms, the steps changing too fast or the shoulders turning too slowly.
Or the stiffness in the chest and waist, relying solely on force, with incorrect points of exertion and even worse ways of releasing tension.
Zhu Xizhi screeched and wailed throughout, fanboying over Pei Ruye and nearly shouting praises for his teacher.
He wasn’t afraid of pain; he just liked making noise to mark his presence.
Having practiced street dance for over a decade, Zhu felt enlightened after just an afternoon’s lesson in front of his idol, obediently wagging his tail.
Worthy of God Pei!
God Pei dances so cool!!
God Pei coaching is so cool!!!
I wish I could dance with God Pei every day!!!
Shi Jianian spoke little, but he learned very quickly.
Shi Jianian indeed had solid fundamentals. When making eye contact with Pei Ruye, his gaze was steady and his movements quick, fully capable of taking on a central role.
His waist was flexible and his reactions sharp, his gray-blue eyes observing Pei Ruye’s explanations and guidance to everyone, almost engaging in predatory learning.
Meanwhile, Fu Mingnian’s demo had been produced and corrected, and a group of trainees practically held their breath as they performed in front of Huo Ren, feeling the tension of a client’s final review.
Mentor Huo handed out a paper, and they were almost ready to pull an all-nighter to adjust the piece, tweaking the sound and formation while lamenting how the Corona team members were truly inhuman back in the day.
To outsiders, the artistic process might seem easy to replicate, but insiders find it increasingly daunting.
Back then, Corona’s near-mythical popularity had inspired many kids who loved singing and dancing.
What if I could be that good!
What if I could win the crown just a few years after debuting!
Now, eight people were tweaking melodies and lyrics and mixing overnight, bearing dark circles and a weariness as if dreams themselves were beating them down.
Indeed, the seniors were seniors for a reason… this was not a task for the average person…
After watching the performance, Huo Ren signaled the lead assistant to rest on the side and stepped into the center of the trainees himself.
He then stood next to Fu Mingnian, watching the eight in the mirror.
“Let’s go through it once.”
Fu Mingnian glanced quickly at him and responded gravely.
The moment the music started, the two in the middle exploded with such intensity that the six on the sides seemed to fade into the background like backup dancers.
Fu Mingnian was notoriously aggressive on stage, a well-known fact, but the problem was that once Huo Ren got serious, the other trainees simply couldn’t keep up.
They would unconsciously move aside, avoiding eye contact with Huo Ren, and dare not touch him.
“This won’t do…” Mentor Huo covered his head, “You need to open up, let it all out.”
The trainees nodded silently, still avoiding eye contact.
It was no longer about Huo Ren maintaining an idol’s facade; it was about them dealing with the pressure of their fans.
Being next to such a radiant figure made it inexplicably hard to act cool or flirtatious… Who would dare!
Huo Ren seemed to guess their feelings, relaxed his posture, and chatted to lighten the mood, pointing out each person’s flaws as he went.
Then he circled back to Fu Mingnian and shook his head with a smile.
“Too stiff, lacks edge, not attractive enough.”
Fu Mingnian felt a critical hit with each word, paused for a few seconds, and murmured lowly, “… I haven’t practiced enough.”
“Not quite,” Huo Ren mused, “You are closed off.”
He gestured for Gu Shaochu to come over, and the two performed the duet again, displaying a clear tension and confrontational vibe.
Even though Gu Shaochu’s dance foundation was slightly weaker, the effect was still impressive.
“I always feel you’re too reserved…” Huo Ren turned back to Fu Mingnian, thought for a moment, and said, “But these things, my guidance can hardly change.”
“If you don’t perform well, someone else will step up.”
“If you don’t catch on, you’ll drop in the rankings.”
“There’s not much time left next year.”
Fu Mingnian made prolonged eye contact with Gu Shaochu, suddenly feeling like a trapped beast.
He had always had a rebellious spirit, but had been too repressed for too long, unaccustomed to showing his fangs again.
Mildness and modesty were not suitable for the moment.
“What a pity,” Gu Shaochu sighed leisurely, “I was thinking of competing for the central position.”
“Let’s do it again,” Fu Mingnian took a deep breath, “I wasn’t open enough.”