Chapter 130: Youth Olympic Games
Six years. A thousand words and countless emotions were all poured into this embrace.
The two held each other tightly for a long while before finally letting go.
"Come on. Let’s sit down first and grab something to drink," Han Zuo said, slinging an arm over Teng Yi’s shoulder before turning back to look at Ruan Yu.
Ruan Yu laughed. "Only now do you think to entertain us? The tension earlier was so thick it nearly scared me off."
Han Zuo clasped his hands in apology.
"My bad, my bad. You don’t know this, but when I first came here years ago, Teng Yi did the exact same thing to me—threw me straight into a battle and wore me out until I was drenched in sweat before finally letting me join Xi You."
"So you were that ruthless back then?" Ruan Yu shot Teng Yi a sidelong glance.
"He was a special case back then," Teng Yi replied.
"How was I special?" Han Zuo asked, puzzled.
"You were still a love rival at the time."
Han Zuo froze for a second before bursting into laughter. "And how do you know I’m not one now? Who’s to say I don’t still have feelings for Ruan Yu?"
Teng Yi pointed at Han Zuo’s ring finger.
He had noticed it the moment he walked in—a ring adorned Han Zuo’s left hand.
"Sharp eyes," Han Zuo said, raising his hand and wiggling his fingers to show off the ring. "Just got married a few days ago."
Ruan Yu and Teng Yi quickly congratulated him.
"When are you introducing her to us?" Ruan Yu asked.
"No need for introductions—you can meet her right now."
"She’s at Xi You?"
"Yep. She’s a student here."
Han Zuo went to knock on the door of the neighboring practice room. Moments later, a tall girl with twin buns followed him out.
"My wife, Shanshan," Han Zuo said, holding her hand. "Shanshan, this is Teng Yi, the founder of Xi You. And her—well, I don’t need to introduce her, do I? Ruan Yu, the host you love watching."
"Hello! I’ve heard so much about both of you. I’m Cheng Shanshan," she said brightly, radiating youthful energy. She looked quite young.
"Robbing the cradle?" Teng Yi leaned in and whispered to Han Zuo.
Han Zuo nodded, replying quietly, "Just graduated from college."
"Damn, you’re good."
"Not as good as you. Disappeared for six years and still have Ruan Yu pining for you."
The two men exchanged knowing smirks.
As they stood chatting in the hallway, a deep, resonant voice suddenly called out.
"Teng Yi-gege!"
Teng Yi turned to see a boy of about thirteen or fourteen walking toward him.
The boy looked familiar—Teng Yi still remembered him. Yan Xuyang, one of Xi You’s youngest students back in the day.
"Teng Yi, do you remember him?" Han Zuo asked.
"Of course. Yan Xuyang," Teng Yi said with a smile.
"If we’re talking about talent, this kid’s the real deal," Han Zuo said, patting Xuyang’s shoulder proudly. "You know what? The Olympic Committee recently announced that breakdancing is officially a Youth Olympic sport now. And this kid—he got selected for the national breaking team! He’s got a shot at competing in the Youth Olympics!"
"No way!" Teng Yi exclaimed in delight.
The Youth Olympic Games—second only to the Olympics themselves, the highest-level global multi-sport event for young athletes.Yan Xuyang scratched his head shyly: "Brother Teng Yi, the people I’m most grateful to for where I am today are you and Brother Han Zuo. If it weren’t for you two, I wouldn’t have been exposed to street dance, let alone fallen in love with it."
"A master leads the way, but the disciple must walk the path themselves. It’s your own persistence that brought you this achievement. Keep working hard in the future and bring glory to our country."
"Don’t worry, I definitely will!"
--?--
Today’s visit to West Street brought one good piece of news after another.
But in truth, West Street had not had an easy time these past years.
While Ruan Yu and Cheng Shanshan were chatting, Han Zuo took Teng Yi around all the practice rooms in the building. There weren’t many students in the rooms, especially on the second floor—most were empty.
"The year you were here, we had the most students. Later, some stayed, some left, and very few new students joined. The whole place struggled to keep running. Several times, we couldn’t even pay the rent."
"You don’t need to worry about money anymore," Teng Yi said.
Han Zuo shook his head. "What are you thinking? I’m not asking you for money."
"I know. I didn’t mean it that way. I just wanted to say you’ve worked hard all these years alone."
"During the years you were gone, I reflected a lot." Han Zuo gazed through the glass at the few students dancing in the practice room. "I realized street dance shouldn’t be just your responsibility. Back then, you single-handedly supported all of West Street—even half the street dance scene in Liaocheng. When you suddenly had that accident and left the circle, everything that depended on you collapsed overnight."
Teng Yi stayed silent.
"Do you understand what I mean?" Han Zuo’s tone grew impassioned. "Street dance is a culture. The development and legacy of a culture don’t just rely on its inherent appeal—they require the collective effort and support of everyone in the circle. We shouldn’t rely on one or a few people at the top to keep giving endlessly. Take West Street, for example. We should make it self-sustaining through street dance, not keep it running with your money."
"I understand. But that’s not something simple to achieve."
For street dance to thrive, it first needed to be accepted, recognized, and loved.
"Exactly. It’s easy to say, but changing things is another matter—I’m completely at a loss." Han Zuo sighed. "Street dance is still too niche. After all these years, that hasn’t changed at all. People call it a culture, but it’s more like a group’s self-entertainment. Look at how breaking was included in the Youth Olympics—such great news, but how many people even know about it?"
Teng Yi nodded.
Everything Han Zuo said reflected the harsh reality.
The only way to change it was to promote street dance—not through small-scale efforts like the old "Bring Street Dance Back to the Streets" campaign, but by leveraging bigger platforms, top-tier influence, and massive promotional investments.
"Teng Yi, a while back, right after you returned, Wang Jing came to see me. He wanted me to persuade you to join their TV station’s new variety show. I think it’s a great opportunity to promote street dance."
"Wang Jing came?""Yeah, I didn’t contact you right away because I was waiting for you to come to Xi You on your own. I figured that when you took the initiative to find me, it would mean you’ve let go of everything and made up your mind to return to the street dance scene."
"Waiting for the rabbit to bump into the tree?"
"Pretty much," Han Zuo laughed. "Teng Yi, I know you’re not into variety shows, and neither am I, but that’s just how things are now. Without popularity and buzz, nothing can take off. I don’t care about fame or exposure—I just want street dance to thrive. And I believe you feel the same way."
--?--
After leaving Xi You, Teng Yi walked Ruan Yu home. Lost in thought, he stayed silent the entire way.
When they reached her doorstep, he suddenly reached out and grabbed her arm.
"Let me come in for a bit."
"Again?"
Ruan Yu was reluctant. Every time he walked her home, he’d say the same thing, only for "coming in for a bit" to turn into "staying the whole night." She was wary of him by now.
"I really do have something I want your opinion on today."
Teng Yi sounded serious, but Ruan Yu wasn’t buying it, suspecting he was just putting on an act.
"Ever heard of the story of the boy who cried wolf?"
"Coming over to your place is equivalent to crying wolf now?"
"No, you’re the upgraded version."
"What?"
"The wolf who comes to pounce."
Teng Yi leaned in. "If you don’t let me in, I’ll show you exactly what that means right now."
"..."
Too much to handle.
Despite Ruan Yu’s protests, she couldn’t stop the "wolf" from entering. But this time, he really did have something to discuss.
Teng Yi said he wanted to join the variety show.
"You’re going to participate in Wang Jing’s show?"
Ruan Yu poured him a glass of water as they sat facing each other on the couch, her expression one of surprise.
His earlier aloof declaration—"No autographs, no photos, no shows"—still echoed in her ears. How could he change his mind so quickly? Men could be so fickle.
"Yeah. I talked with Han Zuo today. Street dance culture hasn’t had much growth over the years—no breakout moment, no widespread acceptance. This show could bring in attention and spark discussions. It might be a turning point, so I think it’s worth a shot."
"Are you sure?"
Teng Yi smiled. "It’s not like I’m cutting off a limb—it’s not that scary. Besides, didn’t you want me to do it before?"
Ruan Yu had initially been acting on Wang Jing’s behalf, but now that she thought about it more carefully, she had her own reservations.
"Using this kind of platform to promote street dance would definitely have an immediate impact, and of course, I support it. But..." She hesitated.
"But what?"
"But the street dance scene is all about authenticity, while variety shows are, to some extent, fabricated. There are scripts beforehand, and post-production editing can twist things—black into white, white into black—in ways you’d never expect."
"I’ve considered all that. It’s why I didn’t want to join before. But now I think, as long as it helps showcase street dance, even if I’m exploited or used as cannon fodder, it’s fine. You have to give something to get something."
"Is it worth it?"
"It is. Han Zuo’s right—we’re both part of the street dance culture. The better it thrives, the better off we’ll be."Ruan Yu held his hand: "Since you've already made your decision, of course I support you."
She was also looking forward to seeing him truly return to the stage.
"Okay, now that the serious talk is over, it's time for serious business." Teng Yi gripped her hand in return, abruptly changing the subject as he pulled her forcefully into his arms.
Ruan Yu lost her balance and crashed into his chest.
"Hey..."
Ignoring her protest, Teng Yi focused on kissing her, starting from her temple and moving downward until he captured her lips.
"Teng Yi, if you keep this up, don't even think about stepping into my house next time!"
"Then we'll go to mine."
"..."
Fine. He won.
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