The Academic God Becomes an Internet Sensation After Joining a Dating Show - C40 - Too Serious

The dressing room was already cramped, and Bai Wenle’s thunderous shout of “May you have children soon” reverberated against the walls, echoing through the entire space without mercy.

[Hahahahahaha I can’t stop laughing]

[He gave in, he finally gave in!!]

[The main CP has officially won, Shen Lin is real!]

[So satisfying, hahahahaha]

[I’m dead from this ship, absolutely dead!]

The video cut off there.

The staff placed the shoes into Qing Lin’s hands. He lowered his gaze to the glittering pair, his emotions tangled in a way he couldn’t quite untangle.

“Wow, dazzling! These shoes are stunning and they’re the right size too.” Stacy clapped her hands with excitement before urging, “Alright then, let’s get to practice.”

[Wait! What about the outfits!]

[I had my eye on that reddish-purple one. Ahhh, can we add it to the poll too!]

[These heels go perfectly with the black outfit! Black, black, all black!]

Putting aside the strange little “gift-giving” segment from earlier, Qing Lin followed Shen Xuzhi back into the dance studio.

After exchanging a few words with the male instructor, Stacy turned toward them and said, “Next, I’ll demonstrate the routine you’ll be learning.”

“Could you put the second record on the player?” she asked Qing Lin.

Qing Lin carefully set the vinyl in place.

From the old gramophone, the elegant strains of the classic tango Por una Cabeza filled the air. The instant the music began, the entire atmosphere shifted.

The pair stepped into place. Stacy lifted her chin and straightened her chest as her partner advanced toward her in time with the beat.

At first, she kept a measured distance, testing his lead. Then, with the pulse of the drum, they closed the gap.

The man’s hand slipped to the back of her neck, their foreheads touching as they turned together. His palm slid down to her waist, their hands meeting in a seamless clasp.

Her movements were graceful and fluid, her frame leaning on his shoulder as they pivoted and glided across the floor.

Each intertwining step stirred the air around them, restrained yet brimming with allure. With every lead and every response, their two figures wove together like threads in a spellbinding tapestry.

[Perfect!]

[The instructors are incredible—so elegant!]

When the music faded, the two dancers bowed with composed grace.

“My god, that was beautiful.” Qing Lin couldn’t help bringing his hands together in applause. What he had just seen was not merely a performance but art itself.

“That’s the dance we’ll be working on,” Stacy said with a polite bow of her own. “Have either of you studied dance before?”

Qing Lin shook his head without hesitation.

Shen Xuzhi, on the other hand, admitted he had done some choreography for concerts, though never in a style as intricate as this.

“In that case,” Stacy said with a smile, “Lin, why don’t you try on the heels first?”

Qing Lin was someone who committed fully once he made a decision. Since he had chosen to take on the female role and compete, then both the flowing skirt and the dazzling heels were things he would wear without compromise.

The tango demonstration had already stirred something in Qing Lin. He eased off his own shoes and slipped his feet into the heels. To his surprise, they fit perfectly. Perhaps it was the craftsmanship or their staggering price, but the soft leather made them far more comfortable than he had imagined.

“Can you stand steadily?” Shen Xuzhi asked.

“Ah… yes, I think so.” Qing Lin stiffened his legs and tested a careful step forward.

Shen Xuzhi immediately moved to his side, steadying him with a hand on his arm. Qing Lin instinctively gripped him back for balance.

“Looks like an eight-centimeter heel.” Qing Lin glanced downward. “It’s like walking on tiptoe. Girls really have it hard.”

Lifting his gaze, he studied Shen Xuzhi in front of him.

“I just realized—even with these heels, I’m still not as tall as you.” He lifted a hand to measure the difference. “I’m still a little short. Shen Laoshi, are you actually taller than one eighty-seven?”

“My shoes have a bit of a heel too. I’m probably over one ninety right now.” Shen Xuzhi’s smile was faint, his lashes lowered as his eyes lingered on Qing Lin. “But I think this height is perfect. From this angle, you look very good.”

The atmosphere felt perfect, and Stacy seized the moment. “Great, hold it right there for a second. Let’s set up the tango starting pose.”

“Lin, place one hand on Shen’s shoulder. Shen, wrap an arm around Lin’s waist. Now lift your other hands together, stretch them out… yes, just like that.”

Qing Lin obeyed, sliding his hand onto Shen Xuzhi’s shoulder. Instantly, he felt the warmth and firmness of Shen’s hand pressing against the small of his back. The sudden closeness left him unsure where to place his gaze.

[It’s happening, it’s happening!]

“You’re still a bit too far apart,” Stacy said, pursing her lips. “Tango has both open and close embraces, but as a couple, this distance feels too polite.”

Hearing her, Qing Lin instinctively stepped closer.

His delicate, earnest face filled Shen Xuzhi’s view. So near, Qing Lin’s long lashes quivered slightly as he murmured, “Like this, teacher?”

Shen Xuzhi said nothing, simply holding Qing Lin in his gaze.

“Mm, even closer would be better,” Stacy commented, stroking her chin thoughtfully. “Are you two feeling shy?”

They exchanged a brief glance but remained silent.

Once the starting posture was set, they moved on to learning the full steps. The song itself was elegant and stirring, divided into three parts: progression, climax, and conclusion.

Qing Lin adapted quickly. At first, his movements were tentative, stiff, but gradually he began to flow naturally with the rhythm.

“Now we’ll learn the Giro, which is a pivot turn,” Stacy demonstrated. “Relax your shoulders, step to the side, forward, twist, and finish with a back step.”

She emphasized the lift of the chest. “Keep your body always facing your partner. Watch your heels and maintain balance.”

Qing Lin absorbed every word, focused and meticulous, almost as if he were attending a university lecture, ready to take notes at any moment.

After roughly two and a half hours, they had worked through the basic sequence.

[Our top student really lives up to his reputation—he picked up the moves so fast!]

[Qing Lin is all about technique. That spin—he’s never danced it before, but he’s studied the mechanics, so he knows exactly how to balance.]

[Lin’s concentration is incredible, and Shen Laoshi is just as impressive!]

“You both picked up the movements quickly,” Stacy said. “But you’ll need more practice to make them fluid. Take some time to work on it together on your own.”

“Make sure you practice properly,” the teacher reminded them before leaving.

The dance studio was left quiet, with only Shen Xuzhi and Qing Lin. Sunlight poured through the pale blue curtains, bathing the floor in a soft glow. Hints of green shimmered across the space, weaving light and shadow through the wide, empty room.

Qing Lin shrugged off his jacket, revealing a simple white shirt beneath. The light brushed against him, tracing a faint halo along his figure. A delicate sheen of sweat clung to his neck.

His expression remained calm, composed. He turned slightly, squinting toward the sunlight, rolling his slender shoulders back to ease the tension.

Even after nearly three hours of dancing, Qing Lin seemed tireless. He had already watched the recording several times, pausing at key moments to point things out to Shen Xuzhi.

“Shen Laoshi, I think we should go over this part again. The Giro still doesn’t feel smooth enough.”

He rubbed his chin, thinking. “It feels like the movement should be driven by stepping into the floor, but the upper body isn’t rotating with the lower. Let me try again.”

Because of the time difference, they weren’t live streaming, only recording as usual.

Qing Lin loosened his ankles and straightened his back. The opening began with the classic Tango Ocho forward, his hand hooking onto his partner’s shoulder.

Por una Cabeza began to play, and Qing Lin stepped into rhythm. He truly was quick to learn, each movement sharp, precise. Step by step, he drew closer to Shen Xuzhi. That restrained, ascetic face made his motions all the more alluring, innocence and temptation intertwined.

Following the video demonstration, Qing Lin traced his fingertips along the line of Shen Xuzhi’s face, letting them rest lightly on his shoulder. His other hand climbed slowly until it slipped into Shen Xuzhi’s grasp.

Shen Xuzhi couldn’t deny it—he was stirred. His body tensed, and for a fleeting moment, he forgot every step he had just learned.

“Shen Laoshi, the steps,” Qing Lin prompted softly, a gentle reminder.

Shen Xuzhi tilted his head back slightly. After a pause, he murmured a quiet, “Hmm,” then slid his hand to Qing Lin’s waist.

Yet something still felt off. Something wasn’t right.

He remembered what Stacy had once said—too far apart—and muttered under his breath, “Should it be closer?”

And so, he leaned in.

Shen Xuzhi’s eyes darkened abruptly, his hand tightening in response. Qing Lin’s lower body pressed against him, their thighs tangling unconsciously, stirring a whirlwind of sensations.

His fingertips brushed over Shen Xuzhi’s shoulder blade, an almost ticklish stroke, deliberate or not.

The air thickened, heavy with restless heat. The faint, lush scent of Latin American incense curled around them, sweet and decadent. Through the thin fabric, Shen Xuzhi’s abdomen burned, desire nearly overwhelming his reason, erasing the subtle restraint he had been struggling to maintain.

He forced himself to steady his gaze, afraid it would burn the person before him.

“…Qing Lin.” Shen Xuzhi exhaled heavily, his voice low and rough. “Wait a moment.”

As he said that, he pushed Qing Lin back a step.

Qing Lin blinked in confusion. “?”

Shen Xuzhi’s chest felt unbearably tight, his breathing unsteady. “Sorry… let’s take a break.”

Without waiting for a reply, he strode out of the studio, leaving Qing Lin dazed and frozen in place. The second half of his exit nearly became a run.

Only when he reached the empty hallway, away from cameras, did he allow himself to breathe.

Gosh, what a headache.

Tilting his head back, Shen Xuzhi swallowed, his throat painfully dry. He wanted a cigarette. Running a hand through his hair, he admitted there was no way to calm himself down.

He paced back and forth for a while. Just then, his phone buzzed with an incoming call.

“Hello.” Shen Xuzhi said curtly, irritation threading his voice.

“I could tell just from your tone,” the caller said cheerfully. “Our little beauty’s working hard again, isn’t he?”

At once, Shen Xuzhi recognized the voice. Jiang Liao. He clicked his tongue, too tired to play along. “If you have something to say, just say it.”

Jiang Liao chuckled. “What, can’t I check in on my brother? So, how’s Argentina treating you?”

“Not bad,” Shen Xuzhi replied, though faint tango music drifting from the studio pulled his gaze back before he looked away again.

“That’s Por una Cabeza, isn’t it?”

Suddenly, another voice came through the receiver—not Jiang Liao’s.

“Eh… Ah Zhi, you’re dancing tango now?”

Then Jiang Liao’s voice cut back in with exaggerated disbelief. “No way! Don’t tell me it’s some show mission you’re forced to complete. And that little beauty of yours only cares about the task, not about you at all!”

Shen Xuzhi: “…”

Shen Xuzhi went silent.

Every word rang true.

He really didn’t want to respond, but that voice—he found himself asking, “Qi Youhuai?”

“Damn, you even guessed that? Yeah, Lao Qi’s here with me,” Jiang Liao said, sounding surprised. “Come on, say hi, Lao Qi.”

Qi Youhuai’s voice came reluctantly, a soft, almost inaudible, “Mm.”

“How the hell did I end up friends with two sticks-in-the-mud?” Jiang Liao complained, then suddenly brightened. “Guess where we are right now?”

A prickle of unease ran through Shen Xuzhi.

The answer came immediately, shouted with triumph. “That’s right! We’re in Argentina too! Surprised? Happy?”

Shen Xuzhi seriously considered hanging up.

“Lao Qi lost a bet with me, so he chartered a flight to bring me here to watch football.” Jiang Liao laughed. “We’ve been here for over a week already. Then I saw you guys came too, filming your show, so of course I had to call.”

“Alright, I’m hanging up.” Shen Xuzhi said flatly.

“Hey, hey, wait! Don’t hang up, man!” Jiang Liao rushed out. “Let’s meet up for a meal.”

“No time.” Shen Xuzhi cut him off. They were too familiar for this kind of pointless gathering abroad.

“Don’t lie. You’ve got at least one day off before your next shoot,” Jiang Liao insisted. “Bring your little beauty with you. We’ll help you out, give you a push.”

Shen Xuzhi paused, thoughtful. Qing Lin really was oblivious. But maybe, if outsiders nudged him a little, he might finally start to notice.

“So?” Jiang Liao pressed. “What do you say?”

“Stay in touch.” Shen Xuzhi ended the call.

For now, he should go keep the kid company during his dance practice.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Qing Lin was the kind of person that even if you stripped him of all his wealth and dropped him into a strange city, he could still rely on talent and determination to master some new skill and make a living.

Shen Xuzhi often felt that he was too quiet at times, pouring his entire mind and energy into one single thing.

And whatever he chose to do, he could always do it well.

Just like now, during tango practice. Knowing he had no dance foundation, Qing Lin forced himself to memorize every step. From morning until now, aside from two meals, he had done almost nothing but drill the routine over and over.

Night fell.

A knock on the door was heard.

“Dong, dong, dong.” Stacy’s voice broke into their practice. “How’s it going in here?”

“We want to check in on both pairs and see your progress,” Elvira added with a bright smile. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

[Yes! It’s livestream time!]

[Wow, a mini competition before the real one.]

It was like a mid-way check, laying the groundwork for the formal contest later.

Qing Lin and Shen Xuzhi headed down to the grand ballroom. The glittering hall felt entirely different from the practice studio, enough to make nerves creep in.

Zhang Nanyin and Liu Xin were already waiting. Spotting them, they waved. “Hi! Ah Zhi, Linlin, over here!”

Zhang Nanyin immediately noticed Qing Lin’s heels. “Those are gorgeous! So sparkly!”

“Your shoes are beautiful too, Nanyin-jie. Elegant and understated, really suits your temperament.” Qing Lin said with a smile.

Zhang Nanyin gave his shoulder a light tap. “Such a sweet tongue, Linlin.”

Elvira came over. “The production team told us to choose the better dancing pair. The reward is a night at the most luxurious hotel in Buenos Aires!”

“The most luxurious hotel? That sounds tempting.” Zhang Nanyin glanced at Liu Xin and sighed. “But with our dancing skills… never mind.”

“Alright, darlings, are you ready? Let’s dance!”

Everyone moved to the center of the hall as the familiar strains of Por una Cabeza filled the room.

The opening steps were ones Qing Lin had already mastered. Guided by the flowing melody, he and Shen Xuzhi stepped into rhythm, their movements beginning to weave together seamlessly.

[Wow, ShenLin immersion level is off the charts.]

[Hahahaha why do Xu-ge and QL look so upright and proper?]

[Amazing, their execution is terrifyingly good.]

[Liu Xin and his wife are adorable. Not very polished, but they look so happy.]

The music came to an end.

Since it was only an excerpt, it didn’t last long. Qing Lin and Shen Xuzhi held their final pose, the room still echoing with the fading notes.

“Linlin, that was incredible!” Zhang Nanyin exclaimed, finishing her own dance and rushing over. She ruffled his hair and pinched his cheeks. “To reach this level in just one day—you’re a little genius!”

Qing Lin, flushed with embarrassment under her affection, murmured, “Thank you.”

“You’ve all done so well,” Elvira added, encouragingly. “But who danced the best? Let’s have Stacy announce it.”

[ShenLin!]

[It has to be ShenLin!]

[I’m waving the flag for ShenLin!]

Liu Xin laughed ruefully. “There’s really no comparison. We’re nowhere near their level.”

“It’s fine, dear. I don’t care where we stay.” Zhang Nanyin said, then kissed him lightly.

Qing Lin felt a quiet satisfaction himself. He hadn’t made mistakes, and his coordination with Shen Xuzhi had been seamless.

Then Stacy paused, her gaze sweeping the room, before announcing, “—Liu Xin and Zhang Nanyin.”

Silence fell like a curtain over the hall.

Qing Lin froze. Even Liu Xin and Zhang Nanyin stared at each other in disbelief, pointing at themselves. “Us?”

[??????]

[Wait—it’s not ShenLin?]

[Unbelievable, Shen Laoshi and Linlin’s execution was clearly better.]

Qing Lin replayed the dance in his mind, searching for what he had missed. Everyone around them seemed to think there had been a mistake.

But Stacy’s voice cut through, firm and unwavering.

“The problem lies with you, Lin.” Her crimson lips tightened, forming no hint of a smile as she looked at him. “There was no feeling in your dance. You had no emotions.”

“Even though this was just a check-in, Lin, tango is simple at its core. A misstep, a stumble—you can keep dancing. Tango doesn’t care about mistakes, unlike life. Xin and Nanyin let themselves feel the dance. You didn’t.” Stacy pressed her lips together, her gaze unwavering.

“You were too serious, Lin.”

The words landed like a weight. Qing Lin lowered his head, his gaze dropping as shadows gathered in his eyes.

In the vast, splendid ballroom, it felt as though something had hollowed out his chest, a chill threading through his body.

[Don’t be sad, Linlin]

[Oh no, he was too serious. He couldn’t relax and feel the dance—that’s why they lost]

[QL’s eyes lost all their light. He must be so guilty.]

[Don’t cry, Linlin, don’t be sad, mama’s here, come here sweetheart]

With that, the evening’s session ended, wrapping up a long day of practice and filming.

Dancing in heels for an entire day, no matter how well made or soft, left his feet aching. In the cloakroom, Qing Lin slipped off the heels, letting his reddened toes and sore heels breathe.

He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling.

Ah.

So empty.  So hollow.

He picked up the pair of heels he had just removed, turning them over in his hands. A strange, indescribable feeling pressed at him.

It wasn’t about losing the contest. It wasn’t about missing a night at a luxury hotel. It was because he had been too serious.

He set the shoes aside again and swung his legs idly.

Then, the door opened suddenly.

Shen Xuzhi walked in.

His brows were lowered, his gaze cool and detached, his profile sharp, almost cold. Dark eyes flecked with gold scanned the room before settling on Qing Lin’s feet.

Without a word, he moved closer and picked up the heels beside Qing Lin.

“Mr. Shen…”

The air in the room felt taut, almost charged. Seeing him like this, Qing Lin half-joked, “What, do you want to help me put them on?”

As he spoke, he lifted one leg, toes slightly arched, and raised his eyes to meet Shen Xuzhi’s.

What Qing Lin hadn’t anticipated was Shen Xuzhi setting the high heel aside and lowering himself to his knees.

He gently cupped Qing Lin’s ankle.

The narrow room was dimly lit.

The man before him knelt in silence, his figure swaying in the shifting light, his shadow cast against the khaki-colored wall.

“Before a match, a boxer’s lover kisses his gloves, as a sign of faith.” Shen Xuzhi’s voice was low and rich as he carefully lifted Qing Lin’s leg.

The bare foot exposed in the air looked a little tense, the delicate ankle sharp and fine, pale and fragile. Feet were naturally colder than other parts of the body, but Shen Xuzhi’s palm pressed warmly against the arch. Qing Lin instinctively wanted to pull back, yet in the end, he didn’t.

“When a knight rides to war, he kneels devoutly before his queen, accepting her decree and offering solemn faith.”

Shen Xuzhi’s expression remained calm, his gaze focused downward. He picked up a band-aid and slowly, carefully pressed it over the raw skin on Qing Lin’s heel.

Supporting Qing Lin’s calf, Shen Xuzhi stayed kneeling on one knee. From that angle, the depths of his eyes were veiled, yet beneath the shadow, they roiled like a stormy sea.

In the quiet cloakroom, the two simply met each other’s gaze.

Shen Xuzhi’s voice was soft and deep, carrying a boundless tenderness and an affection so honest and fervent it seemed to sweep everything else away.

“May I be your faith?”