137: Chapter 136 Yan Yu's Transformation

7:50 AM.

Morning Star No. 1 Training Room.

Sixty-eight people stood in formation.

Yesterday's bold words had vanished.

Everyone stared at Su Chen, who pushed the door open and entered, swallowing hard.

Su Chen wore a black sleeveless vest.

He walked to the front row, holding no microphone, only a metallic-textured metronome.

"Snap."

He pressed the switch.

BPM 120.

The hurried electronic ticking beat against their eardrums.

"Push-ups."

Su Chen looked at the entire room.

No one dared to ask; all sixty-eight people neatly pressed themselves onto the floor.

"Listen to the rhythm."

Su Chen didn't look at his watch, "Go down on the odd beats, push up on the even beats. Stop when your chest is two centimeters from the ground. Perform chest vibrations in sync with the beat. Five hundred. Begin."

Yan Yu supported herself on the floor.

She thought she had misheard.

Girl group training also involved core work, at most doing plank holds.

Push-ups combined with high-frequency vibrations?

Five hundred?

This wasn't dance training at all; this was special forces physical punishment.

"One."

Su Chen shouted.

Yan Yu gritted her teeth and lowered her body.

"Two."

She barely pushed herself up.

When she reached the fiftieth, Yan Yu's arms began to tremble.

By the eightieth, several professionally trained students in the front row collapsed directly onto the floor, panting heavily.

"Get up."

Su Chen's voice was calm.

No one moved.

A boy wearing a duck-tongue cap rubbed his wrist and complained in a low voice, "Teacher Su, we studied Street Dance for four years in college, and no one practices the basics like this. This isn't ergonomically sound..."

Su Chen turned his head and looked at him.

He walked in front of that boy.

Su Chen placed his hands on the ground.

His body formed a straight line.

Accompanied by the 120 BPM beat, the muscles of his upper arms bulged.

Sinking down, pausing.

"Da."

A muffled sound.

At a position less than one centimeter from the ground, Su Chen's chest erupted with a high-frequency vibration.

The muscle groups of his entire upper body contracted like waves.

Up, then down again.

His movements were so fast they even left afterimages, and every vibration perfectly locked onto the beat.

For fifty consecutive times, his breathing rate didn't change at all.

Su Chen stood up and looked at the boy on the floor.

"If you can't do it, go settle your account and leave."

Su Chen turned around.

The training room was so quiet that only the sound of the metronome remained.

The boy clenched his back molars and propped his body back up.

Yan Yu lay not far away.

Sweat dripped down the tip of her nose onto the floor.

There was only one thought left in her mind.

He is a pervert.

A genuine pervert.

Yan Yu breathed heavily, forcing herself not to think about the soreness in her arms.

Flashing through her mind was the boy standing in the corner in the video from five years ago, and then she recalled the global-shocking eight minutes in last night's live broadcast.

"One hundred and thirty-four."

"One hundred and thirty-five."

Yan Yu's vision blurred.

Sweat flowed into her eyes, causing an incomparable stinging pain.

She didn't spare a hand to wipe it.

Tears mixed with sweat slammed down.

She cried.

But she didn't stop.

Su Chen walked in front of Yan Yu.

He looked at the girl on the ground with a high ponytail, whose shoulders were shaking like a sieve.

"The beat was half a second slow."

Su Chen didn't offer a single word of comfort, nor did he even soften his tone, "Tighten your waist. Again."

Yan Yu sniffed and forcibly held her tears back.

Forcing her waist, she found the rhythm again.

Lin Hao stood in the corner of the training room.

He held his phone and recorded this scene.

12:00 PM.

Lunch break time.

Lin Hao posted this thirty-second short video to the studio's official account.

The caption was just one line: "World Championship Training Camp. Day One."

As soon as the video came out, discussions on the internet exploded directly.

[Did I see that right? The one crying while doing push-ups is Yan Yu?]

[A mega-influencer with tens of millions of fans is doing hard labor here?]

[This intensity of chest vibration—heads of regular labels can't even handle a few, and God Su makes them do five hundred?]

[That complaining professional student in the front is so miserable; Su Chen directly went all out in front of him to teach him how to behave.]

[What is absolute suppression by strength? The Demon King was too lazy to even refute; he just used his actions to slap you in the face.]

[Yan Yu is pushing herself way too hard. Seeing her cry like that, my heart aches a little.]

[Stanning a celebrity to the point of risking her life, Yan Yu is truly one of a kind.]

1:00 PM.

The afternoon training combined multi-language pronunciation with footwork.

Yan Yu's voice was hoarse.

While performing complex footwork syncopation, she loudly recited English lyrics.

Falling, climbing back up.

Mispronouncing words, starting over.

The rhythm gets messed up, rearranging it.

10:00 PM.

Su Chen turned off the metronome.

"Class dismissed."

As soon as those two words landed, a large area of people collapsed in the training room.

No one spoke.

Even the sound of breathing seemed like a luxury.

Yan Yu leaned against the mirror in the corner.

She didn't even have the strength to raise her hand to grab her water bottle.

Lin Hao walked over, unscrewed the cap of the mineral water bottle, and handed it to her mouth.

Yan Yu raised her head, took two sips, and coughed continuously from choking.

11:30 PM.

Yan Yu returned to her hotel room.

Without taking a shower, she collapsed directly onto the bed.

Her legs felt like they were filled with lead.

Due to the prolonged high-frequency vibrations, the muscles on the inner thighs were in a semi-spastic state.

Forcing herself to sit up, she fished out a hardcover notebook from her bag.

This was the celebrity-stanning diary she had written for five years.

Yan Yu turned to a new page, her hands shaking so much she couldn't hold the pen.

She used her left hand to hold down her right wrist, writing a few lines stroke by stroke.

"Training camp day one."

"I thought the 'standards' he mentioned in the live broadcast last night were meant for those people in the Chinese Entertainment Industry. Today I learned that he was saying them to us."

"He is training everyone like they're machines."

"But I didn't leave."

Yan Yu looked at the crooked handwriting on the notebook, a difficult smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

She continued writing.

"Before, I thought I loved dance. After getting to know him, I realized that I only liked it before. Now, it is true passion."

"Tomorrow, continue."

Yan Yu closed the notebook and fell sound asleep instantly.

At the same time.

Morning Star Studio No. 1 Training Room.

Half of the overhead lights were turned off.

Su Chen stood at the doorway, holding tomorrow's training schedule in his hand.

His gaze pierced through the dim light, falling toward the deepest corner of the venue.

There were five people there.

They weren't wearing professional practice clothes; instead, they wore cheap cotton T-shirts worth dozens of yuan.

They didn't shout about being tired, nor did they collapse.

Guan Heng, leading his four brothers, faced the full-length mirror on the wall, repeating an eight-count movement that Su Chen had demonstrated during the day over and over again.

Clumsy.

Stiff.

They couldn't even find the basic groove.

But they were tireless.

Every squat and every swing of their arms exuded a brute force brought up from the yellow earth.

Lin Hao walked up behind Su Chen, looked along his line of sight, and lowered his voice to speak, "Brother Su, the five of them... really have zero foundation. Today, quite a few professional students laughed behind their backs that they couldn't even tell their hands from their feet. Are you really going to keep them in the starting lineup?"

Su Chen didn't answer.

He watched Guan Heng's calloused hands grip the floor tightly, abruptly completing an extremely standard core-tightening movement.

That was a muscular explosive power that many dancers with three years of practice couldn't achieve.

"Go get five sets of knee pads."

Su Chen turned around.

"What?"

Lin Hao was stunned.

"Tomorrow, double their training volume."

Su Chen's voice was cold, but his gaze was exceptionally bright.