◎How about I give you the mentor spot?◎
No one watching the live stream expected Xia Xi—who usually seemed so pure and upright, always speaking with serious sincerity—to suddenly drop a line like that.
Just moments ago, everyone was still immersed in the vibe of a stoic, abstinent little Taoist priest, and now, in an instant, the atmosphere shattered. Nobody could have guessed she was this kind of little Taoist.
Xia Xi herself kept dismantling her own persona.
After sharing a pack of gummy bears with Zhao Tianqi, still craving more, Xia Xi promised, “Next time, I’ll treat you.”
There would definitely be a next time.
From accomplice to mastermind, less than five minutes apart.
Xia Xi believed in reciprocity. Since Zhao Tianqi had treated her this time, next time it was her turn to return the favor.
The recording of the show continued, and all the contestants had gradually taken their seats during the exchange between the two.
Zhao Tianqi sat beside Xia Xi, undoubtedly boosting her popularity. Some people had already started asking about Xia Xi, but online, she had left almost no trace. Apart from the basic info provided by “pick101,” everything else was a blank slate.
The two, who had quite a bit of screen time, finished their gummy bears and then turned their attention to the show.
Zhao Tianqi was usually quiet, but this time she was so proactive that fans in the live chat all responded with exclamation marks, while Xia Xi remained focused on the stage.
Her limited knowledge of girl group performances mostly came from a few trainees in the same company. Now, with trainees from all over the country and different companies gathered together, Xia Xi was instantly overwhelmed by the flood of new information: street dance, ballet, tap, cha-cha... the cute type, the seductive type, the fresh and innocent type.
The door to a new world slowly opened before Xia Xi.
Xia Xi thought: Girl group performances are way more exciting than I imagined.
Isn’t this more fun than raising fish?
Time ticked by bit by bit. The quality of the performances was uneven. The edited versions released later would only show the best clips, but in reality, the recording took a long time.
Some viewers in the live stream had already left, and the contestants waiting on site were starting to feel restless. Their nervousness gradually turned into irritation and fatigue; some stood up to rub their backs or jump around.
Xia Xi, however, remained motionless, eyes glued to the stage.
A contestant behind her couldn’t help but call out.
“Xia Xi, aren’t you tired?”
Startled by the question, Xia Xi blinked in confusion. “Huh?”
The live chat offered an interpretation.
【If I’m not mistaken, that expression means—how could she be tired when she’s looking at a beautiful girl?】
...
The viewers in the live chat all agreed, chiming in.
【Wow! This girl is a gem. I just felt Xia Xi’s expression was familiar, and when my computer screen went dark and I saw myself, it was exactly the same!】
【Right, right! That look—full of admiration and awe—is hilarious. Is Xia Xi here as a contestant or as an audience member?】
【I’m starting to suspect she chose Class F just so she could sit closer to the stage.】
【Makes perfect sense!】
【Who doesn’t like a pretty girl? And a talented pretty girl at that? What’s the problem?】
No problem at all.
The audience’s guesses were spot on—Xia Xi’s expression perfectly matched the description of someone utterly captivated by a beautiful performance, completely unable to look away. Some viewers were already eager to create reaction memes.
“Addicted to talent shows, do not disturb jpg.”
“Mesmerized by beauties jpg.”
Xia Xi really didn’t feel tired; after all, she was just sitting there. Training martial arts was far more exhausting. Weren’t they supposed to be resting?
Zhao Tianqi glanced at Xia Xi and pursed her lips. One of the contestants behind her gave a subtle reminder—she and Xia Xi seemed unusually quiet.
Almost everyone was putting on a show, hoping to capture a few reactions or moments that could be clipped and broadcast. Gaining popularity often required a multi-angle approach, not just relying on the stage performance alone.
Although Zhao Tianqi still intended to rely on her stage presence, Xia Xi could use this segment to showcase something as well.
Zhao Tianqi leaned toward Xia Xi and whispered a suggestion, “Want to say something?” She never imagined she’d end up worrying like a mother hen.
Xia Xi frowned, “Say something?”
“Better to.”
This caught Xia Xi off guard: she thought they were just here to perform, not to provide commentary!
Suddenly burdened with this extra responsibility, Xia Xi felt a bit of pressure. The cameraman also focused on her, curious to hear what she would say.
It was obvious Xia Xi hadn’t prepared anything; she even looked a bit like a kid reluctantly performing a talent show act at her parents’ urging. Yet when she spoke, her words flowed smoothly.
…
“Her voice is clear and pure, full of emotion. It feels like walking through a countryside village on a warm evening breeze, with the family dog wagging its tail behind you. In the distance, smoke rises from the kitchen, and your family is calling you home for dinner…”
This was Xia Xi’s review of Chu Sisi’s recent song.
Chu Sisi had just performed an original piece, and after Xia Xi’s commentary, she shared her inspiration with the mentors. She grew up with her grandmother in the countryside and felt a deep connection to the fields, people, and everything around her.
“Her dance is powerful and controlled. I love her rhythm and energy—it’s infectious. It makes you want to join in and dance along.”
This was Xia Xi’s feedback on a contestant who had just done a dance challenge.
While this dancer might not be the strongest technically, in terms of infectious energy, she ranked near the top—so much so that viewers could feel the urge to tap their feet and move along, thoroughly enjoying the performance.
…
When Zhao Tianqi cued Xia Xi to say a few words, expecting her to be like the other contestants—clapping, cheering, and shouting “ah ah ah”—no one anticipated Xia Xi’s serious and thoughtful commentary.
She kept delivering generous praise in long, flowing sentences.
Viewers watching the live broadcast also found Xia Xi’s descriptions wonderfully vivid. Pure cheers can be a bit dull, and professional mentor jargon sometimes sounds too complicated. Xia Xi’s style was just perfect.
[Xia Xi shouldn’t be sitting with the contestants—she belongs on the mentor’s panel. I’m officially declaring her the unofficial, off-the-record mentor of “pick101”!]
[Her feedback was spot on—I was nodding along the entire time.]
Of course, there were some discordant voices, like “Saying one thing but doing another, but when she goes up, who knows what a mess she’ll make,” though such comments were quickly drowned out by “Has ETC become sentient?”
There were some impressive performances, but also some disappointing ones. When three trainees from a certain entertainment company performed a childish nursery rhyme, even the seasoned mentors couldn’t help but show a complicated expression.
The live audience was curious: How would Xia Xi comment?
Xia Xi remained expressionless and simply said, “Childlike innocence, quite charming.”
!!!
【Damn, everyone’s cracking up — what the heck is ‘childlike innocence’ supposed to mean?】
【Low EQ: childish, kindergarten level. High EQ: childlike innocence, quite charming.】
The staff and viewers in the live chat noticed that Xia Xi seemed friendly and tolerant toward the contestants, rarely uttering harsh words, always trying to find their strengths.
More importantly, she was genuinely sincere!
“Childlike innocence, quite charming” seemed to be her true feeling.
But when the next group came on for a team performance, Xia Xi’s smile of appreciation faded. She stared at the stage, her smile disappearing, and a very low voice came from her throat: “Careful!”
Her voice was so soft that even the cameraman closest to her didn’t catch it. Only Zhao Tianqi, sitting right next to Xia Xi, heard it. “What’s wrong?”
Xia Xi could only make a cautious prediction and couldn’t say it out loud in front of everyone. After a brief hesitation, she waved to Zhao Tianqi, and the two instantly leaned closer.
The viewers in the live chat were about to jump out of their seats. Why couldn’t she say it in front of everyone? Sisters, please treat them like family!
Xia Xi openly whispered, leaning close to Zhao Tianqi’s ear and sharing her judgment: “The second girl from the left side of the stage—her balance is off. She might fall.”
Zhao Tianqi followed Xia Xi’s gaze to the stage. The girl second from the left was performing a difficult move, looking confident and in control, with no sign of losing balance.
But the next moment, everyone gasped.
Without any warning, the girl doing the high-difficulty move suddenly fell.
Xia Xi’s prediction was spot on.
What eased Xia Xi’s tension a little was that the girl wasn’t hurt. She even managed to stand up and finish the performance.
After stepping off the stage, the professional doctor standing by immediately came forward to check her out, confirming she was fine.
“My turn.”
Zhao Tianqi stood up from her seat, straightening her clothes as she spoke to Xia Xi.
Xia Xi also heard the staff calling Zhao Tianqi’s name. She could tell Zhao Tianqi wasn’t nervous. Looking up, she reached out her hand toward Xia Xi.
“Good luck.”
Zhao Tianqi looked at the hand extended before her and flashed a fleeting, faint smile. She seriously reached out and touched it.
“Thanks.”
But after taking a couple of steps forward, Zhao Tianqi seemed to remember something and turned back.
“When I go on stage, will you praise me like you did the others?”
A cold breeze blew from the central air conditioning vent above, lifting the ribbon binding Xia Xi’s long hair. Her eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. “I don’t praise anyone. I’m always honest and straightforward.”
So, Zhao Tianqi was determined to give her best.
Xia Xi hadn’t finished speaking, but she felt that Zhao Tianqi must have already caught on, because the other nodded and said, “I understand.”
Still not leaving, Zhao Tianqi raised another concern, “...It seems like I haven’t heard your evaluation of me.”
Both of their phones had been collected, so to watch any shows, they had to wait until after filming. Unsurprisingly, Zhao Tianqi was going to stay until the very last episode.
This reminded Xia Xi that it really was a problem.
But it could be solved. Xia Xi glanced around and fixed her eyes on a female staff member who was covering her mouth, then made a request.
“Could you please help record my evaluation for me?” The contestants didn’t have phones, but the staff did.
Before she even finished speaking, the female staff enthusiastically nodded, “Sure, no problem!”
The cameraman, seeing his job being snatched away, hurried to say, “No need, the director already said that the segment where Xia Xi evaluates you will be shown exclusively to you, so just focus on your performance.”
The live audience was seriously losing it.
[? Something’s wrong with me, please lock me up in a chicken coop.]
[Damn! I’m obsessed! Tell me I’m not the only one!]
[You’re not alone! Ahhh, I’m literally boiling over, I never dreamed it would be this good to ship.]
[Zhao Tianqi wants Xia Xi’s evaluation, Xia Xi asks the staff to record it for her — this is mutual chasing, right? Even though the show just started, I’m officially declaring “XiaTian” the most badass CP, forever the GOAT!]
They even had a ship name already: XiaTian.
…
Xia Xi had no idea about any of this. She was busy enjoying Zhao Tianqi’s debut stage performance.
Zhao Tianqi was performing with contestants from her own company.
From the moment Zhao Tianqi stepped onto the stage, no matter how many people surrounded her, all eyes were drawn to her. Judging by the overall strength of the show’s lineup, her teammates were of average skill, some even slightly above average.
But Zhao Tianqi was on another level.
She was like a terrifying dancing machine—every move sharp and precise, hitting every beat exactly as it should. Her dance was fluid and dynamic. What was most astonishing was that it wasn’t just dance or singing or rap—while others had their strengths and weaknesses, Zhao Tianqi had none.
She excelled at everything, reigniting the nerves dulled by exhaustion and aesthetic fatigue.
The mentors gave her top marks, the crowd erupted, and Zhao Tianqi undoubtedly earned an A.
Xia Xi gave a thumbs up toward the stage, wiping sweat from her brow as she looked at Zhao Tianqi, and made a succinct comment to the camera—
“Flawless, absolutely breathtaking.”
Anyone who can achieve something in their field deserves respect. Xia Xi saw in Zhao Tianqi the drive and professionalism of a true idol. Since she was here, she needed to learn from her.
…
Not long after Zhao Tianqi’s performance ended, Xia Xi was called away. They didn’t even have time to talk.
Most contestants performed in teams, but the few called backstage with Xia Xi were nervously encouraging each other, their hands trembling.
Staff whispered, “She’s going to take care of the poor solo performer.”
“Xia Xi, it’s going to be okay…”
The staff watched Xia Xi sitting on the stretching railing, her foot gently swaying, and felt that she probably wasn’t nervous at all.
Xia Xi hadn’t caught what was said and asked, “Hmm?”
The staff replied, “Nothing.”
Xia Xi’s mindset was indeed solid. When it was her turn, she confidently walked onto the stage. Although Xia Xi had made a strong impression during the live broadcast, the mentors were still relatively unfamiliar with her. As she reached the front of the stage, the mentors’ reactions were simple:
Her appearance is quite good, but how about her skills?
Judging by her outfit, it seems to be traditional style.
Curious about Xia Xi’s performance, the mentors called out directly, signaling her to begin.
[Is this the so-called “half-month trainee” who’s just a waste of time?]
[I’ve been waiting for this debut stage. So what if she’s clinging to Zhao Tianqi’s coattails? In the end, it’s all about skill. If she’s not good enough, it’s all just empty talk.]
[Don’t be so quick to judge. Maybe she’s some kind of royalty. If she debuts, she’ll slap you right in the face.]
The comments were filled with sarcasm and skepticism.
Viewers of the talent show despised “water goods” — those who coasted without effort. Most wanted contestants with real talent to make their debut.
Standing alone on the stage, Xia Xi held her posture straight. Her flowing blue-and-white long dress gave her an ethereal, otherworldly aura. The music began — a traditional-style piece, but far from soft or gentle. From the very first note, it carried a chilling intensity.
With a sharp “snap,” Xia Xi’s folding fan clicked open in her hand.
From that precise moment, Xia Xi transformed into a master of perfect timing. Her fair fingers flipped the fan with a life of their own — every twist and leap a seamless blend of power and grace.
Contrary to everyone’s expectations of a “water goods” trainee, Xia Xi executed move after move of high difficulty — moves that other teams called “ultimate skills” — with effortless frequency.
What’s more, each move was flawlessly integrated, full of strength. As the music sped up, so did her movements.
She was unstoppable.
A soaring leap reached a remarkable height.
Someone in the contestants’ seats even stood up.
“Oh my god, can she fly?”
This dance was specially choreographed by the company’s dance instructor just for Xia Xi — a fusion of martial arts and classical dance, mastered only by her. After weeks of practice, Xia Xi had completely internalized every move.
When she landed with a spin, her skirt blossomed on the floor like a flower. The next second, without any external support, she stood up on her own.
The contestants were baffled. “How did she get up like that?”
Her core strength was terrifyingly impressive!
The music slowed from fast to gentle, and the dance followed suit. By the time she finished, the entire studio was filled with applause.
The comments calling her “water goods” disappeared, and even those who had been attracted by her looks or her presence in the contestants’ seats were left stunned.
“I thought you were a bronze, but turns out you’re a king?”
“She’s definitely getting into Class A, right?” Two contestants in the front row exchanged glances and said in unison.
After sparking a small wave of excitement during the show’s recording, Xia Xi calmed her breathing and obediently waited for the mentors’ feedback.
Having watched from the contestants’ seats, she had already come to a conclusion: the mentors would either ask about her martial arts skills or whether she had other talents to showcase.
She was actually looking forward to the former — with so many viewers watching, it would be a perfect chance to promote herself.
Then the mentor asked with bright eyes, “I heard from the director that you just gave some really good feedback on everyone’s performances from the contestant’s seat?”
“How about this—I give you my spot, and you take the mentor’s seat.”
The one speaking was Wan Jun, a seasoned actor. The director had briefly explained over the earpiece about Xia Xi showering praise on others, reminding them to mention it. Wan Jun was just joking around with Xia Xi.
Xia Xi: ???
On camera was a pretty yet puzzled face.
Xia Xi carefully considered her words, “I don’t think I’m skilled enough yet to sit in the mentor’s chair.”
“That’s okay, as long as your feedback is good.”
Wan Jun was lively and the life of the mentor group on the show. Plus, his acting was top-notch, so it really seemed like he was willing to give his seat to Xia Xi.
Xia Xi glanced around, trying to find the show’s director. She found them, and they played along, giving her an encouraging nod.
Holding the microphone, Xia Xi said, “The production team never told me there’d be this part of the process—I only signed a contestant contract…”
From the audience’s all-knowing perspective, it was already clear that Wan Jun and the production team were just teasing her. People felt both amused and a bit sorry for this poor kid being toyed with by this bunch of pranksters.
The next moment, Xia Xi’s clear voice rang out, “Then I’ll need extra pay.”
