31: Chapter 31 Shen Yun's Long Article: Evidence from the National Team

The two-minute unedited fancam finished playing.

The entire internet fell into dead silence.

Half a minute later, the public opinion sphere completely exploded.

The top ten spots on the trending search list were all replaced by that man's name, and the servers issued overload warnings.

Ordinary netizens, dance enthusiasts, and bloggers of all kinds were all awed by the sheer dominance displayed in that video.

However, the remaining die-hard fans of XO were still putting up a stubborn fight.

Unwilling to accept the collapse of their faith built over many years, they began to launch an organized counterattack.

A massive wave of scripted comment-control tactics flooded into major comment sections.

[The image quality is blurry; it's definitely an AI face-swapping composite!]

[Even if we take ten thousand steps back, assuming he danced well back then, it was still just Street Dance. Such street culture could never grace the halls of high art!]

[Our idol is currently holding a world tour, while he is feeding pigs in the countryside. Who is the winner is crystal clear!]

[An unorthodox path is still an unorthodox path; it will never be recognized by the orthodox art circle!]

National Centre for the Performing Arts, Practice Room No. 3.

Shen Yun changed out of her soaked dance shoes. She picked up her phone on the bench and unlocked the screen.

Overwhelming arguments greeted her eyes.

After browsing those fandom remarks that belittled Street Dance and ridiculed Su Chen, she let out a cold sneer.

Ignorant.

Shen Yun opened Weibo.

The account's yellow V verification shone brightly: Former National-Level Classical Dance Principal, Current Chief Judge of the Youth Idol Competition.

Number of followers: 4.2 million.

Without hesitation, her fingertips tapped rapidly against the screen.

A long article gradually took shape.

[I am Shen Yun.]

[With the internet clamoring today, I originally didn't want to meddle. But seeing someone use the word 'orthodox' to belittle that man, I truly cannot remain silent.]

[Five years ago, I was still preparing for the International Dance Arts Festival.]

[One afternoon, the head coach paused our rehearsal. She brought over a projector and played a blurry recording.]

[It was exactly the thirteen-person practice room unedited fancam that you saw today.]

Shen Yun typed at lightning speed as her thoughts drifted back to that sultry afternoon.

[At that time, we were very puzzled. Classical Dance emphasizes body charm, while Street Dance pursues explosive power. The two systems are completely different; why would they make a group of us from the National Team observe a Trainee from a Korean company?]

[The coach pointed at the Huaxia youth right in the center of the screen and said only one sentence.]

["Look at his core control."]

[We stared intently at the screen.]

[In a mere ten seconds, the entire team fell pin-drop silent.]

[Experts look at the techniques. You might only feel that his movements are cool and his beat-matching is precise. But in the eyes of professional dancers like us, what he displayed was chilling.]

Shen Yun took a deep breath and continued typing.

[In his muscle exertion, there wasn't a single shred of redundant waste.]

[The rotation of every joint and the contraction of every core muscle group all reached the most efficient operating mode that the human body can endure.]

[This defies common sense.]

[Ordinary dancers rely on day-after-day practice to form muscle memory. Yet he seemed naturally able to precisely command every single nerve.]

[I have practiced dance since childhood, won countless gold awards, and consider my talent to be quite good.]

[Yet in front of that youth whose name I didn't even know, for the first time in my life, I felt a deep sense of inferiority.]

[The coach told us that this level of bodily control had already crossed the boundaries of dance genres. Whether it was Street Dance, Classical Dance, or Modern Dance, as long as he wanted to learn it, he could grasp its essence after watching it just once.]

The long article reached its conclusion.

[He forged his own body into the sharpest weapon.]

[That Huaxia Trainee whom you ridiculed as an 'unorthodox path' is the closest existence to the word 'perfect' that I have ever seen in my life.]

[Capital can ruin his future, but it cannot destroy the artistic attainment carved into his bones.]

[Finally, I offer a word of advice to certain fans.]

[Don't try to elevate your idols by associating them with him.]

[They aren't worthy.]

She checked for typos.

She clicked send.

...

Time seemed to stall for a split second.

Immediately afterward, this long article swept across the entire internet with a destructive and unstoppable posture.

The National Team's Principal personally entered the fray!

Real-name endorsement!

This article directly elevated Su Chen's strength from a Street Dance circle god to the position of a national-level art benchmark.

Those fandom fans who were just clamoring about him being third-rate instantly lost their voices.

The capital packaging they took such pride in appeared comical and ridiculous in front of true national-level authority.

The data in the comment section jumped wildly: 100,000, 200,000, 500,000!

[Holy shit! The National Team's Principal personally stepped down to debunk fakes!]

[With this level of gold content, does the fandom still dare to bark? Come out and debate head-on!]

[A Classical Dance bigwig crossed boundaries to worship him—this is insanely awesome!]

[Even the National Team coaches use his videos as internal teaching materials? What kind of divine resume is this?!]

[While he was working as a sparring partner in a Korean basement, top domestic dance troupes were secretly studying his force-exertion techniques. How surreal!]

[Where are XO's fans? Open your dog eyes wide and see who the unorthodox path really is!]

[Turns out the true king had already been looked up to by the professional circle long ago.]

[Looking across the entire Asia, God Su's strength is definitely the number one by a faultless margin!]

[Mentally broken; such an awesome person was actually forced to return to the country to farm.]

In the repost list, heavyweight accounts appeared one after another.

The official account of the Beijing Dance Academy reposted it with the caption: [Salute to the master of perfect bodily control.]

The Huaxia Pop Music Association reposted it with the caption: [Looking forward to that broken-string guitar reappearing in the mortal world.]

A certain state-affiliated central media outlet liked this long article.

The official tone was set.

The fandom's last shred of a fig leaf was mercilessly torn to shreds.

The leader of XO's domestic support club directly disbanded all thousand-member fan groups. Moderators of various super-topics deleted posts and fled overnight.

A capital lie that had lasted for five years vanished into ashes in the face of absolute strength and authority.

...

Dali.

Buyu Inn.

Yan Yu held her phone as teardrops pattered down.

Looking at the long article posted by Shen Yun, the grievance deep in her heart was swept away.

"Brother Cai." Yan Yu wiped her face, her voice hoarse. "It's officially verified. He won."

Brother Cai stood in front of the window, finishing three cigarettes in a row.

This multi-million-follower dance troupe leader had reddened eye sockets at this moment.

"He won." Brother Cai stubbed out the cigarette butt. "He slapped those Korean chaebols until their faces swelled up on behalf of us Huaxia dancers."

A-Li rubbed his hands together excitedly beside them. "Then what do we do now? The entire internet is looking for him; we need to take action quickly!"

Yan Yu calmed down.

Their reputation was restored. The truth had come to light.

But where was the person?

Since Su Chen hated the hustle and bustle, the impersonation incident in Dali Ancient City would definitely make him even more resentful.

He must have already left Xiaguan.

In this vast sea of humanity, where could they find someone who purposely hid their whereabouts?