Chapter 144: Idol Training Program (2)

Cheng Xiaoyu looked at the handsome, idol-like man who radiated striking good looks, and then spotted Cheng Xiujing trailing closely behind. He strongly suspected that this girl had been fanning the flames from the sidelines. Smiling, he said, "Who am I? Didn't Xiujing tell you? I think if you knew, you wouldn't be speaking to me like this."

The man turned his head to glance at Cheng Xiujing with a trace of puzzlement. Cheng Xiujing had merely told him that an obnoxious, chubby guy in the practice room was talking nonsense and criticizing their choreography, omitting any mention of Cheng Xiaoyu's background. Seeing the aggrieved and resentful expression directed at the chubby fellow without a word of defense, the man instantly realized the situation might not be as simple as it seemed. This realization only deepened his sympathy for Cheng Xiujing, as he had always harbored a soft spot for this stubborn and hard-working girl. Thus, he said, "Regardless of who you are, please step outside right now and stop disrupting their practice."

Having failed to pull off his cool persona, Cheng Xiaoyu didn't awkwardly blurt out his identity, which he considered beneath him. Instead, he just chuckled and replied, "And who are you supposed to be? What qualifications do you have to order me out of here?"

The man did not smile. With a solemn expression, he told Cheng Xiaoyu, "I am their dance instructor."

Dropping the smile from his face, Cheng Xiaoyu shook his head and said, "Your standards aren't up to par. The choreography is far too basic, completely devoid of any visual appeal."

Hearing such a remark, the man snapped like a lit firecracker. He looked Cheng Xiaoyu's plump figure up and down, laughed out of sheer fury, and retorted, "With a build like yours, you have the nerve to question my professional credentials? I'm a graduate of the Shanghai Theatre Academy, a three-time first-prize winner of the Peach and Plum Cup in contemporary dance, and a former principal dancer with the Shanghai Dance Troupe. Who do you think you're trying to fool here?"

Looking earnestly at the handsome fellow, Cheng Xiaoyu replied, "Your accolades don't mean a thing. At the very least, your choreography failed to show me any high level of skill."

Staring at Cheng Xiaoyu's composed demeanor, the man raised his voice and said, "Fine! Show us a routine yourself, then, and let big brother here witness just how high your standards really are."

"Are you challenging me to a dance-off?" Cheng Xiaoyu momentarily forgot that street dance was not yet popular in this spacetime, and the concept of a dance battle did not exist here yet.

Confused by the remark and failing to grasp its intent, the man spoke with lingering skepticism, "A dance-off? You mean we each take turns dancing to see who's better? Interesting. I genuinely have no idea where you get the nerve to make a fool of yourself. Once you watch me finish, will you honestly roll your way out of here?" He had never once entertained the thought of losing.

Rolling his neck and wrists, Cheng Xiaoyu said, "Who ends up rolling out isn't set in stone yet. Since you're the elder, you go first and let me appreciate what the first-prize level of the Peach and Plum Cup actually looks like."

The man sneered coldly once more, saying, "Good, you've got guts. Watch closely then." Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he tossed it to the side and began with a few warm-up stretches, his movements graceful and refined.

Standing in the center of the dance studio wearing an oversized gray T-shirt, the tall and long-limbed handsome man struck an initial pose: his back turned to Cheng Xiaoyu, both hands gripping his shoulders, and one leg slightly bent. This posture showcased the lines of his body to perfection. Because the dancing man was exceptionally lean, everyone naturally viewed it as a visual feast.

Next, his hands resting on his shoulders began to flutter rapidly, drawing everyone's focus and building tension. Immediately following that, he slowly raised his right arm, elevating his entire body into a lifted stance, lightly raised his left leg, extended it smoothly, and completed a graceful turn balanced on a single foot.

His facial expression at this moment was equally spot-on, conveying a lingering sorrow of waiting, with his hand reaching forward as if trying to grasp something. Failing to catch it, he transitioned into a rapid succession of single-foot spins. The entire sequence flowed seamlessly—magnificent and expansive, resembling a blooming lotus flower. Upon completing the spins, he immediately executed a high kick that reached his forehead, displaying astonishing control and flexibility. Without missing a beat, he leaped in mid-air and split his legs into a full front split.

At this juncture, all six girls began to applaud, four of them with particular enthusiasm. Cheng Xiaoyu watched the handsome man's dance with rapt attention. Even though he wasn't well-versed in contemporary dance, he could tell that this guy was no mere pretty boy; he possessed genuine skill and substance. However, contemporary dance didn't entirely lend itself to expressing pop music. While slow, melancholic songs might pair well with contemporary styles, fast-paced dance tracks were hardly a suitable match.

Many people mistakenly assumed that street dance was simply a branch of contemporary dance, but that was far from the truth. Street dance was an entirely independent dance genre. Contemporary dance, on the other hand, was a dance movement that emerged in the West during the early 20th century in opposition to classical ballet. Its core aesthetic view opposed the stagnation, detachment from real life, and formalistic pursuit of pure technique found in classical ballet. It advocated breaking free from the overly rigid movement formulas of classical ballet, utilizing natural laws of motion to freely express genuine human emotions, and emphasizing that dance art must reflect modern social life.

Street dance, conversely, evolved from an emotional outlet practiced by African Americans into a street culture. Its characteristics included strong explosive power and exaggerated physical movements compared to other genres. Its most captivating aspect was the passionate and surging vibe brought forth by full-body vitality.

Watching the handsome man execute various elegant yet twisted, agonizing movements that displayed his supreme physical flexibility and emotional expression, Cheng Xiaoyu saw the vivid image of someone waiting a lifetime for their beloved spring to life. Yet, Cheng Xiaoyu wasn't intimidated by the performance. Contemporary dance was a highly professional discipline whose nuances ordinary audiences struggled to judge. Street dance was different—it stimulated adrenaline, granting viewers an unique, exhilarating urge to join in, steering clear of the ivory-tower aloofness of contemporary dance. Furthermore, well-choreographed street dance looked visually stunning to everyone. This kind of visual stimulation was far more direct and rapid than contemporary dance, requiring no specialized audience appreciation to be enjoyed.

At last, with a nimble spin, the handsome man returned to his opening pose with both hands clutching his shoulders, slowly sinking into a semi-squat to conclude the performance.

The six girls burst into another round of enthusiastic applause. Cheng Xiaoyu also raised his hands and clapped a few times, maintaining basic politeness and respect for art.

The man stood up, pulled a tissue from his pants pocket to wipe the sweat from his forehead, and asked Cheng Xiaoyu, "Are you still going to dance?"

Cheng Xiaoyu smiled and shrugged. "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I? I have no intention of rolling out of here."

The man's expression shifted entirely. "Don't tell me you're planning to renege on your word? Do you think you can just flail around randomly and stubbornly refuse to admit you're worse than me, hoping to scrape by?"

Truth be told, Cheng Xiaoyu hadn't even decided what to dance yet. In his past life, he had taken up jazz specifically to maintain his physique, wishing to avoid building muscle through weightlifting or enduring the monotony of running and stationary cycling. Naturally, stylish guys who could dance tended to score major points with girls, but Cheng Xiaoyu wasn't one for showing off. Though he practiced diligently, he never deliberately performed in front of women, to the extent that by the time he transmigrated, very few people even knew he could dance.

At this moment, Cheng Xiaoyu's confidence didn't stem from himself, but from jazz dance, because its infectious energy far surpassed contemporary dance and paired infinitely better with pop music. A brilliant jazz routine was not merely a treat for the eyes, but a spiritual feast.

Walking toward the center of the practice room, Cheng Xiaoyu said as he moved, "There is another kind of dance in this world called street dance. Perhaps you aren't familiar with it, but that's fine. Soon enough, you'll realize just how many things exist in this world that you know nothing about, and how many even more wonderful things await."

Carrying a unique rhythm, he stepped into the circle of spotlight at the center of the room. Meeting the astonished gazes of the six girls and the sneer lingering at the corner of the handsome man's mouth, he tilted his head toward everyone and winked.