Chapter 10 The Tenth Day of Starting a Business

Although Xia Xi had already sensed the signs during company training, the situation that unfolded after *ick 101* further confirmed her suspicions. Yet, she still clung to a sliver of disbelief.

Holding onto that shred of skepticism, after finishing today’s practice, Xia Xi secretly pulled Zhao Tianqi aside.

“I’ve always had a question, not sure if it’s appropriate…” Her eyes darted around nervously.

Zhao Tianqi rarely saw Xia Xi look so conflicted, which piqued her curiosity. But as a good friend, she responded straightforwardly, “Go ahead.”

“Do we need to talk somewhere private?”

So the two sneaked off to a corner without surveillance.

Their movements weren’t particularly conspicuous, and Xia Xi had deliberately chosen a time when few people were around. However, the director had already instructed the cameraman to keep a close eye on Xia Xi and Zhao Tianqi.

After the debut stage performance aired, the Summer CP had gained the most momentum, and the director had discovered a new ratings goldmine.

The cameraman, who had been secretly observing the pair, was thrilled at this development and quickly followed them with his camera.

His mind was already racing with possibilities.

Were they gossiping about a popular contestant? Or did Xia Xi have some secret she couldn’t share? The more plausible scenario was Xia Xi breaking down under pressure, leading to a tearful embrace between the two.

Whatever it was, it would be explosive content!

Then the cameraman captured this scene—

Xia Xi and Zhao Tianqi stood side by side against the wall, with Xia Xi eagerly saying, “I can see you have extraordinary talent—great explosive power and endurance. Would you be interested in learning martial arts with me…”

Cameraman: ???

This was far from what he had expected. He thought he’d catch some dramatic contestant feud, but instead got a “swimming and fitness membership pitch”?

The cameraman also thought Xia Xi sounded like a scam artist, spouting nonsense about “extraordinary talent”…

Xia Xi suddenly sensed something and looked up, locking eyes with the cameraman.

Surprised, she asked, “What are you doing here?” She recognized him as a crew member.

“…”

The cameraman gave a polite yet awkward smile.

No one would believe him if he said he’d been hoping to capture some explosive drama.

…

Xia Xi had high hopes for Zhao Tianqi.

Even before they officially met during morning runs, she had quietly added Zhao Tianqi to her list of potential martial arts students.

The morning runs revealed Zhao Tianqi’s stamina and endurance, and during the debut stage performance, Xia Xi noticed her explosive power and flexibility…

Xia Xi nodded to herself: *She’s got the makings of a great martial artist.*

After realizing she might have misunderstood the situation, Xia Xi decided to start with Zhao Tianqi. Of course, martial arts training wouldn’t happen now—it would have to wait until after the show finished filming.

But from Zhao Tianqi’s bewildered expression, Xia Xi finally understood.

Zhao Tianqi didn’t outright reject the idea. “I never really considered it before, but if you want to teach me, I’m willing to give it a try…”

Then Zhao Tianqi heard Xia Xi tilt her head back and mutter, “The Chinese language truly is profound.”

Zhao Tianqi: ?

Xia Xi: *Homophone puns are the death of me!*

Xia Xi didn’t press Zhao Tianqi to train in martial arts with her. She could tell Zhao Tianqi was more passionate about dancing.

Now that she knew it was all a misunderstanding—that there weren’t actually 101 martial arts enthusiasts in the show—Xia Xi still couldn’t just quit. She had to keep going.

The penalty for breach of contract, opening a Martial Arts School… all these constraints boiled down to one thing: she was broke.

…

Before bedtime, Chen Mengjia came over to visit, leaving Rui Ziyue, Xia Xi’s roommate, utterly baffled.  

First Zhao Tianqi, then Chu Sisi, and now Chen Mengjia—how did Xia Xi keep getting close to all these people?  

Rui Ziyue, being in Class F, had no idea what had happened in Class C.  

Chen Mengjia had come to express her gratitude, bringing Xia Xi a bottle of body lotion when she visited her dorm.  

“Everything else got confiscated, but I had extra body lotion left…” Despite her fierce rapper persona, Chen Mengjia was still a meticulous girl at heart.  

Xia Xi hesitated to accept it. “You should take it back, I don’t use this.”  

Chen Mengjia widened her eyes and pulled Xia Xi’s arm closer for inspection. “Your skin is so good, and you don’t even use body lotion?”  

The other trainees in the dorm chimed in, “It’s crazy, she doesn’t use face masks or serums either.”  

Xia Xi, now being scrutinized like some exotic creature, “…”  

She tried to defend herself, “I use toner, moisturizer, and sunscreen.”  

The original “Sea King” had been very meticulous, leaving Xia Xi with plenty of skincare products. But Xia Xi herself was naturally low-maintenance, having grown up with her martial arts master, so she never had much guidance in this area.  

She thought she had improved—she made sure to apply toner and moisturizer daily just to fit in.  

Yet, she was met with even more astonished looks.  

Chen Mengjia insisted on leaving the body lotion with Xia Xi. “Maintaining beauty is part of an idol’s professionalism. From the moment you joined this show, every inch of your skin belongs to you—but not just you.”  

Xia Xi’s expression turned serious. “Does this show involve some kind of human trafficking?”  

She hadn’t expected such a seemingly legitimate program to have such dark undertones.  

Fearing that Xia Xi might misunderstand and impulsively report the production team, Chen Mengjia frantically clarified that it was just an exaggerated way of saying that beauty equaled professionalism—every lotion-covered patch of skin symbolized dedication. Only then did Xia Xi’s expression relax.  

Chen Mengjia asked, “Xixi, do you get period cramps too?”  

In Chen Mengjia’s view, period cramps were every girl’s nemesis, and every girl who suffered from them was a fallen angel.  

Xia Xi shook her head. “No, I don’t.”  

Chen Mengjia couldn’t help but admit—she was jealous.  

Xia Xi said, “Maybe it’s because I’m in good health. I can teach you a set of Health Preservation Fist. It’s not hard—you can try learning it later and see if it helps.”  

The other roommates joined in. “There’s such a thing?”  

“I want to learn too!”  

In the end, it was the exasperated director who had to intervene via broadcast to stop Xia Xi.  

**Director:** *First, you question whether my show is illegal, and now you’re trying to turn the production team into your own Martial Arts School?*  

*How shameless!*  

The director couldn’t even imagine the sight of a group of lively young idols all following Xia Xi’s lead, practicing martial arts with fierce determination.  

Before going to sleep, Xia Xi hesitated but ultimately decided to use the body lotion Chen Mengjia had given her—partly out of respect for the gesture, and partly out of professionalism.  

As she evenly spread the fragrant lotion over her arms and legs, all she could think was—  

*Marinating myself.*  

When this scene aired in the dorm diary segment of the show, the barrage of comments reached a small peak.  

**[Wow, those long, straight, beautiful legs—am I really allowed to see this for free?]**  

**[Sweetie, stop rubbing your arms—rub me instead!]**  

**[Girl, it’s getting cold—put some clothes on!]**

[Although the visuals are great, why does Xia Xi’s movements and expressions remind me inexplicably of a mother salting fish?]

After this comment pointed it out, netizens took a closer look and couldn’t deny the uncanny resemblance.

Toxic!

…

The theme song “Youth Together” claimed 48 hours of practice time, and indeed, only 48 hours were given. Once the time was up, the evaluation began immediately.

Several mentors were ready, and the contestants were called one by one to showcase their two-day practice results.

The dance and vocal mentors initially chatted and laughed for the sake of the show’s entertainment, but as the contestants entered one after another, they couldn’t muster a smile anymore.

It was a chaotic and uneven display, to say the least.

Singing off-key, forgetting lyrics, and messing up dance moves became minor issues. Many couldn’t even complete the full routine, giving up entirely and standing idle on stage for nearly half the performance time.

The dance mentor couldn’t hold back and slammed the table, venting her frustration.

“Is this the result of your 48 hours of practice?”

“This is a girl group audition! Any random elementary school student could dance better than this. This is purely an attitude problem!”

Even the supposedly strongest A-class contestants didn’t meet the expected standards. Zhao Tianqi’s consistently stable performance slightly improved the mentors’ moods, though several others still had noticeable flaws.

Mentor Wan Jun shook his head and sighed, “Several A-class members are about to drop out of A-class.”

The surprise came from the C-class, which the mentors hadn’t anticipated.

Being placed in C-class meant these contestants had at least an average performance in the initial stage—either mediocre across the board or with significant weaknesses in certain areas.

Yet, it was this very C-class that, while not outstanding, managed to perform the entire theme song without the absurdity of standing still for half of it.

Chen Mengjia was stopped by the dance mentor after her performance.

“I remember you were completely uncoordinated during the initial stage. How did you improve so much in just 48 hours?”

Chen Mengjia, “…” Thanks for remembering her that way. Still, she praised Xia Xi enthusiastically.

“I owe it all to Xia Xi.”

“Without exaggeration, Xia Xi is like the parent who reformed my limbs. She fixed my lack of coordination, and being able to perform the theme song is entirely thanks to her!”

Wan Jun perked up. “Xia Xi?” The contestant who almost took his mentor spot with her rap that sounded like scalding her mouth?

The mentors had other commitments and hadn’t observed the contestants’ practice sessions closely, so they were unaware of what had happened.

Several other C-class contestants also expressed their gratitude to Xia Xi in front of the mentors.

Live-stream viewers who knew the details flooded the comments: [Confirmed—the production team needs to pay Xia Xi a mentor fee. She’s both critiquing and teaching others. She’s working hard!]

Viewers who only watched the show were confused.

[What’s going on? Is Xia Xi that good? Her initial performance was decent, but that wasn’t a girl group dance…]

[The preview didn’t make her seem like a fast learner either.]

As usual, the production team was stirring the pot for maximum effect. The preview had shown Xia Xi’s initial struggles with the theme song, which naturally didn’t look impressive. The footage of Xia Xi coaching Chen Mengjia and the others was saved for after the C-class evaluations.

Xia Xi led a group of trainees from Class C in practicing the theme dance. Under her commands, their movements transitioned from stiff to smooth… A quick replay of the entire process silenced the earlier doubts.  

[Damn, why does this feel unexpectedly hype?!]  

[Xia Xi seems really great—not only learning it herself but also teaching the others. Few can manage that level.]  

After some discussion, the mentors unanimously decided to assess Xia Xi next. She didn’t disappoint, delivering precise movements, solid vocals, and flawless expressions.  

Once she finished, Wan Jun grinned and prompted her, “What do you think your rating should be this time?”  

Just like during the initial stage, he asked Xia Xi to evaluate herself.  

Her breathing still steady, Xia Xi was about to answer when the entire room—staff and other mentors alike—chimed in unison on her behalf.  

“Gotta pay extra!”  

If you wanted Xia Xi’s self-evaluation, you had to pay extra. The phrase “Gotta pay extra” had already become deeply ingrained in everyone’s minds.