“Is Devil’s Heart really the last group to go on?”

“Saw the rehearsal pics from one of the gossip accounts. Ji Chi’s team looked super serious.”

“What’s hilarious is that Gu Yi looked even more intense than the rest.”

“…Speechless.”

The second episode of Battle of the Stars kicked off with Team Obsession. Obsession is a love ballad about two lovers forced apart, who find their way back to each other after years of circling around fate.

Both teams delivered dreamy, heartfelt performances, bringing out the full emotional weight of the song.

“So good!!”

Next came Team Soul, with Liang Mu leading his teammates in lighting up the entire stage.

“So lit, honestly!”

“Totally explosive!”

“Team Soul has no weak links. Liang Mu is my ultimate vocal-dance king!”

“I still can’t get over it—why didn’t Ji Chi get better teammates?!”

Ji Chi was the centre for Baiqian Entertainment during the intro stage, and his performance even outshone Liang Mu’s. But for this round, he drew the hardest song—Devil’s Heart—and just when it was time to rehearse, Gu Yi skipped a whole day.

“Ji Chi’s got it so rough.”

Training time was already tight for the Obsession and Soul teams—you can only imagine how brutal Devil’s Heart’s rehearsals were.

Baiqian Entertainment is one of the top idol agencies. Back when Idol X blew up, Ji Chi was supposed to debut with their group Lock, but he fell ill that year and missed several breakout survival shows.

Most of the trainees from his generation have already made it big. Ji Chi’s had to wait two more years just to get on the Battle of the Stars stage.

In terms of skill, Ji Chi is on par with idols already debuted under Baiqian.

That’s why his fans were extra annoyed that Gu Yi might be dragging him down.

【Can someone on the production team do something about Gu Yi? @BattleOfTheStars — if you’re too busy, just quit the show. 】

【So if you’re not from a big agency, you don’t deserve fairness? Show some respect to the other contestants @BattleOfTheStars @JiangshiTV. 】

As more teams took the stage, Battle of the Stars‘s official Weibo was flooded with fan complaints about Gu Yi. Hashtags like “Gu Yi get out of Battle of the Stars” and “Prince Gu” trended nonstop.

But then, something changed.

【Yeah yeah, Mr. Gu should drop out of the show! 】

【The civil service exam needs you! The people need Mr. Gu! 】

【@BattleOfTheStars hand over our teacher already! 】

【Gu Yi might just be a contestant on your show, but to us civil service hopefuls, he’s a godsend, the Messiah! Ever since I took his class, even my thesis advisor said I’ve finally risen above the average! 】

【We beg you, Mr. Gu, please withdraw! 】

【Withdraw! Withdraw! Withdraw! 】

Fans of the other Devil’s Heart team had stopped complaining, but the official page was still flooded—

【In the sequence an(n=1,2,…), where a1=1959, a2=1995, and starting from the third term…】

【In tetrahedron A-BCD with edge length 3, M is a point on one edge…】

Without realizing it, the show’s official account had become a sacred ground for civil service exam practice.

Every fanbase: “…”

Maybe they really were all crazy.

No—remove the “maybe.”

In any case, they suddenly realized: there was a whole other group of people who wanted Gu Yi off the show even more.

Oddly enough, that made them feel better.

…

Because the livestream interspersed practice footage, Gu Yi’s team had to wait over two hours before going on.

They were the last to do makeup. By the time Team Obsession was already on stage, they’d only just finished. Devil’s Heart has a dark concept, so the shadows on their faces were heavily emphasized. Right after makeup, they squeezed in one final rehearsal.

“We’re up.”

“Yeah.”

As the eighth group walked out, everyone’s mood turned solemn—even the usually composed Ji Chi pressed his lips together.

For many contestants, tonight might be their last chance to perform on Battle of the Stars.

They all wanted to hold on just a bit longer—to stretch their idol dream a little farther.

“Team A, Devil’s Heart, take the stage.”

“Let’s go!”

Ji Chi gave Gu Yi a hard pat on the shoulder. “No need to be nervous.”

That gesture seemed to trigger something. Right after, Yi Shuo, Yue Miao, and Yao Junyan all gave Gu Yi a solid slap on the back. “You got this!”

“Gu Yi.”

Yao Junyan called his name. Gu Yi looked up, and saw him grinning as he held out a fist.

Gu Yi raised his own, and their knuckles collided with a sharp crack.

“Let’s goooo!!”

In the audience and at home, all eyes turned to the stage.

This was the final team of the night. Team B of Devil’s Heart had already performed—and it hadn’t gone well.

Their breathing was off, their dance out of sync, and maybe it was nerves, but in the final sequence, two members in the back literally crashed into each other.

“Devil’s Heart is wild!”

“Ji Chi’s team is up now!”

…

The lights burst on.

From the blackness, white smoke began to rise.

In that instant, five silhouettes emerged—clear, then blurred, then clear again. Lights flickered, casting their faces in a ghostly glow.

Cutting through the fog came a sharp, dangerous voice:

“The night bares its fangs—
At whom will it strike?”

“On this street,
Hearts—
Are for sale.”

The smoke cleared, revealing five sharp-featured faces—

“AAAAHHHH so hot!!”

“They look insane!!!!”

“AAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

The music surged.

Despite their heavy stage makeup, the camera captured each person’s unique aura—as if five demons from hell had descended, ripping human hearts out with chilling ease.

Long legs nailed every beat; black leather jackets framed torsos full of power. The tempo was fierce, but not a single move was off.

“BOOM—”

“BOOM—”

In the midst of fire, every line of Devil’s Heart rang out with clarity. Every arm and leg moved with ferocious strength, every muscle rippling in sync with the rhythm.

“So stable! They’re singing AND dancing and their breath control is this good?!”

“Aaaaah!!”

Then something onstage made the audience gasp—

Ji Chi and Gu Yi launched into a dance battle.

Their moves expanded to the max—

Ji Chi looked like he could swallow the stage whole, but facing him, Gu Yi didn’t shrink in the slightest—

He was on fire. His eyes were razor-sharp, every motion crisp and precise.

Legs flying, his torso twisted and snapped like a whip.

“Who said Gu Yi was weak, huh?! HUH?!”

“Why does their tension feel… kind of sexy?!”

“That face, that body, that energy—I can die happy!”

If Soul had set Battle of the Stars ablaze, Devil’s Heart turned that fire into a raging inferno, like a wildfire sweeping across the land.

Rumours had swirled about Gu Yi skipping rehearsals, and this was the hardest stage of the season. But by the time his team hit the stage, Battle of the Stars hit peak viewership.

Instead of tuning out, viewers were locked in from that moment on. The cheers only got louder.

“Best stage of the night!”

“So good! They’re all my faves now!”

“AAAAHHHHH!!”

“Even after the final note I can’t stop screaming!!”

“Ji Chi! Yue Miao! Yi Shuo! Yao Junyan! Gu Yi!!”

No one had high hopes for Devil’s Heart, but once they started, no one could look away. The audience was completely entranced.

Even after the music ended and the five stood centre stage, the crowd couldn’t calm down.

“This group is total visual perfection!”

“I owe Gu Yi an apology—his stage presence is insane!”

“And his face is, too.”

Right as that comment popped up, the camera zoomed in on Gu Yi’s face.

Sweat-soaked bangs clung to his forehead, a blush tinted his cheeks, and catching the camera’s gaze, Gu Yi broke into a small smile.

The sharp edge from before vanished in an instant. When his eyes met the lens, some audience members felt like they were staring into a deep lake.

“Radiant”—maybe not the typical word to describe a boy.

But that’s exactly what Gu Yi felt like.

After the performance, their rehearsal footage aired too—and it shattered the online rumours. Far from lazy, Gu Yi’s effort shone through every frame.

He was, undeniably, the weakest link in Devil’s Heart.

And he knew it.

But not once did he slack off. He gave everything he had to keep up.

This wasn’t a song just anyone could pull off.

Even in Team B, many had better skills than him.

But when he hit that stage, what he delivered was nothing short of perfection.

“If everyone worked as hard as Gu Yi, then maybe taking a day off wouldn’t be a big deal.”

“+1.”

“Actually, I think I found the reason Gu Yi took leave.”

A post from the S City district’s official site had resurfaced:

“In the recent ‘Chaoyang Cup’ community dance competition, our district’s team showed great spirit and achieved third place…”

Dead centre of the photo, grinning among a group of middle-aged aunties and uncles—was Gu Yi.

The article didn’t matter.

What mattered was the image: a blindingly tacky red-and-gold banner, straight out of the 90s.

And Gu Yi… was in a long red tunic that was so unfashionable it crossed into historic.

Fans: “????”

Third place in a square dance competition?

Gu Yi had this skill too??