After the first group finished, Nino and Teng Yi took their seats in the audience. While Nino’s friends pulled him to the back, Teng Yi scanned the crowd before walking over and squeezing between Ruan Yu and Teng Hao. They both shifted to make room, allowing him to sit more comfortably.
Fang Wan, sitting on the other side, glanced in their direction with a hint of deeper meaning and curiosity in her eyes. But ultimately, the emotions in her eyes faded away.
After all, no one could be certain whether Teng Yi had walked over there for Ruan Yu or Teng Hao.
“Brother, you were so cool, so cool, so cool…” Teng Hao repeated like a broken record.
“Is that the only word you know?” Teng Yi elbowed Ruan Yu. “You should work on his vocabulary.”
Ruan Yu laughed.
“What’s so funny?” he looked at her, his forehead gleaming with sweat.
“Nothing, just thinking that if you asked me to speak right now, I’d probably only know that word too.”
“Are you… complimenting me?”
“Mm-hmm, complimenting you. You were too cool.”
Teng Yi smiled.
Xiao Qing and the others reached past Ruan Yu to fist-bump with Teng Yi.
As he moved to return their gestures, the scent of medicinal patch mixed with his sweat became noticeable.
“Are you okay?” Ruan Yu pointed at his shoulder, asking softly.
She had been worried about his shoulder during all those power moves.
Teng Yi glanced at her and suddenly replied quietly: “What? Worried about me?”
His voice was nearly drowned out by the music, but Ruan Yu still caught it.
She suddenly felt flustered, wondering if he had discovered her concern, or if he was just making casual conversation.
“I just smelled the medicine patch,” she said.
Neither confirming nor denying.
Skillfully avoiding the question.
Teng Yi nodded and smiled, saying: “It’s fine.”
The second group’s performers came out, helping them end this awkward topic, and Ruan Yu breathed a slight sigh of relief.
Bi Chengjie was in the second group. His fans had come to the venue—several girls started chanting slogans in unison when they saw him, things like “Chengjie fly boldly” and “Orange fans forever”… drawing laughter from the dancers present.
People in the street dance circle didn’t go for this sort of thing.
Bi Chengjie seemed unbothered though, even blowing a kiss toward where his fans were standing.
Several girls immediately blew kisses back.
“Not bad perks,” Zhou Xihe commented from the side.
“Jealous?” Xiao Qing gave Zhou Xihe a look.
“Sort of.”
“If you’re jealous, why don’t you debut too? I think you’re much better looking than Bi Chengjie.”
“Old Xiao, after knowing each other for so long, you finally said something sensible.”
“Get lost!”
The dancer battling Bi Chengjie was called Wang Qiang, nicknamed “Big Flower.” People called Wang Qiang “Big Flower” because when he did windmills, he looked like a blooming flower.
The nickname wasn’t derogatory—rather, it was high praise.
At first, Wang Qiang thought the name “Big Flower” was too rustic, but then he realized his real name was pretty rustic too. Gradually, he accepted it, responding enthusiastically when people called him that, and sometimes even introducing himself directly as Big Flower.
Big Flower performed first.
He was also a dancer with great rhythm, his performance building progressively, with his final windmill moves being truly classic.