He was in college, but his songs were at the Grammys.

Chapter 61 Provocation!

The entire audience erupted in uproar.

Can an S-class be downgraded?

This rule is too cruel.

The only positive aspect is that S-rated players are not at risk of being eliminated.

Wang Weizhou looked at the various expressions on the faces below the stage and smiled.

"So don't think you can rest easy just because you got an S-rank. Tomorrow, all of you may face a real challenge."

"Go back and prepare well. See you tomorrow."

After saying that, he turned and left.

The other mentors on stage also stood up one after another and left.

The room was left full of contestants, looking at each other in bewilderment.

After the event was dismissed, the contestants walked back to their dormitories in twos and threes.

But the atmosphere was completely different from that morning.

The D-level and C-level contestants looked serious; some had already started making phone calls, while others were quietly practicing their voices in a corner.

The A and B level contestants weren't much better off.

Although there is still a chance for a revival match, who wants to go to the revival match?

Even the S-class members didn't look too relaxed.

Su Qian walked quietly in the crowd, her face expressionless, but her pace was noticeably faster than before.

Mu Ze and the person next to him were discussing something in hushed tones, their brows slightly furrowed.

Zhou Zihan remained humble and gentle, but upon closer inspection, one could see that his gaze was more focused than before.

Shen Yuewan walked on the other side, her head down, seemingly lost in thought.

Fu Yun muttered to himself, "Goodness, this rule is ruthless. Even S-rank can be downgraded. Doesn't that mean we're in danger too?"

He glanced at Chen Ming.

Chen Ming's expression remained unchanged, and his steps were neither hurried nor slow.

"Go back to sleep," he said.

Fu Yun was stunned: "Sleep? Aren't you going to get ready?"

Chen Ming smiled:

"What are we preparing for? It's not like I'm going on stage to give the evaluation tomorrow. They're just challenging us. We'll fight back, and we'll deal with whatever comes our way."

"Besides, it's too late to prepare now. It's better to get a good night's sleep and recharge than to cram at the last minute."

Fu Yun opened her mouth, wanting to refute, but found herself unable to say anything.

Xia Die laughed from the side: "Is this the mentality of the strong? Damn it!"

The three continued walking forward.

As night fell, the lights in the dormitory buildings came on one by one.

the next day.

The recording site of "Chinese Singers".

When the contestants walked out from backstage, everyone was stunned.

The stage is still the same stage.

But the audience was packed.

The audience seats, numbering in the thousands, were packed to capacity.

Some people were waving support signs, some were taking pictures with their phones, and some were whispering among themselves.

The contestants stood at the backstage entrance, watching this scene, and were collectively dumbfounded.

"Holy crap... how come there's an audience?"

"The mentors didn't mention there would be a live audience today!"

"That's too many! Over a thousand people?"

Someone swallowed hard, their voice trembling:

"This...this is practically a mini-concert, isn't it?"

Fu Yun stood next to Chen Ming, her face pale: "Brother, my legs are a little weak."

Chen Ming glanced at him and gently patted his shoulder.

"Pay attention! Don't lose points!"

A staff member came over, holding a list, and started calling out names:

"Contestants, enter! Ordered by rating! S-rank first! A-rank next! The rest of you, enter in turn!"

The contestants took a deep breath and began walking towards the stage.

A special seating area was set up on the left side of the stage.

The chairs were arranged neatly, divided into zones according to rating.

The S-class area is at the front, with gold chairs; the A-class area is next, with silver chairs; and the B-class, C-class, and D-class areas follow in that order, with the colors gradually darkening.

Chen Ming walked at the front, followed by Shen Yuewan, Zhou Zihan, Su Qian, and Mu Ze.

The five S-class cars walked side by side toward the gold seating area.

The audience's attention was instantly drawn to the stage.

"Chen Ming! It's Chen Ming!"

"He really is S-class! I knew he could do it!"

"Shen Yuewan is also S-level! That songwriting girl!"

"Zhou Zihan! My idol! He's also S-rank! That's amazing!"

"That girl named Su Qian is so cute, and she's also an S-rank?"

"Muze! From the ethnic minority track! I heard he sings exceptionally well!"

A chorus of voices rose and fell, and flashes of light filled the air.

Chen Ming walked calmly to his seat and sat down.

Shen Yuewan sat next to him, her expression tense, but upon closer inspection, one could see that her fingers were trembling slightly.

She kept muttering to herself, "Don't be nervous, don't be nervous, don't be nervous..."

Among the A-level contestants entering the arena, Fu Yun and Xia Die walked among them, their expressions quite different.

Fu Yun tried to appear calm, but his pale face betrayed him.

Xia Die was more composed, though her lips were tightly pursed.

Then come Grade B, Grade C, and Grade D.

Huang Mo walked in the D-level group, head down, his steps quick.

Some people in the audience were whispering:

"Grade D? Is that the worst?"

"I think so... I heard the ratings were very strict yesterday."

"That boy looks really nervous."

Huang Mo's face turned even paler.

After all the contestants were seated, the mentors entered the venue.

Wang Weizhou walked at the front, followed by Li Jinghua, Zhou Guoping, Zhao Yazhi, and Xu Huaimin.

They walked to the instructors' table and sat down.

Wang Weizhou picked up the microphone, his gaze sweeping across the entire venue before finally settling on the contestants' seats.

He smiled and said, "Fellow trainees, are you ready to face the challenge?"

The contestants answered in unison:

"Ready!"

The sound was loud, but if you listened carefully, you could hear a hint of tension in it.

Wang Weizhou nodded, then clapped his hands: "Next—"

He paused slightly, then raised his voice:

"Please welcome our twelve individual contestants to the stage!"

The stirring music began.

At the end of the passage, the lights came on.

The twelve people filed out.

There were men and women, tall and short, some wearing hats, some with ponytails, some expressionless, and some with smiles on their faces.

But everyone has one thing in common.

Their eyes.

It's too bright.

That kind of brilliance wasn't excitement, nor nervousness, but rather... a sharp edge!

Like the instant before a knife is drawn from its sheath.

The twelve people walked to the center of the stage and stood still.

Their gazes swept across the seating area of ​​the seventy-two contestants below the stage, across the gold, silver, and gray chairs, and across the faces with their varied expressions.

A faint smile played on someone's lips.

Some people squinted slightly, as if sizing up their prey.

Someone nodded slightly, as if confirming something.

Although their movements differed slightly, they were all undeniably highly motivated to fight!

The audience, who had been discussing the matter, fell silent.

Everyone was staring at these twelve people.

Wang Weizhou picked up the microphone and began his introduction:

"These twelve individual contestants were selected from tens of thousands of applicants across the country. They had no company background or school recommendations; they made it here based on their own abilities."

His tone was full of admiration:

"Next, they will perform in a rating-based show. After receiving a rating, they can challenge contestants of the corresponding rating."

He looked at the twelve people and smiled slightly: "Now! Does anyone have anything they'd like to say to the other seventy-two contestants?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the boy standing in the middle of the group of twelve picked up the microphone.

He looked to be in his early twenties, with a buzz cut, sharp eyes, and a slight, ambiguous smile on his lips.

He picked up the microphone and glanced at the seventy-two faces in the audience.

"My name is He Jun."

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly throughout the entire venue.

"Before I came here, I looked at all of your files."

"To be honest—"

He drew out the last syllable, then laughed, a laugh tinged with arrogance and provocation: "I think many of you here are unworthy of your positions!"