Su Yunjin’s decision was: elimination!

Swish!

The atmosphere froze in that instant.

As Su Yunjin’s red lamp lit up, the previously exuberant audience was instantly doused as if with a bucket of cold water—everyone exchanged bewildered glances.

“What’s going on?”

“Did Su Yunjin just turn on the red light?”

“No way, isn’t that the mentors’ exclusive right to veto?”

“Su Yunjin actually used that power? She must be willing to offend someone!”

The venue grew restless.

Whispers drifted from every direction.

The camera panned to the audience, each person frowning in confusion.

Then, the cameraman focused on the contestants’ area; those in limbo were equally stunned. Some eyes gleamed with secret delight, but most were simply perplexed.

As contestants, they understood precisely what the red and green lights in the mentors’ hands meant.

Each of the five mentors for the group at the center had two lamps: the green signified direct advancement, the red, immediate elimination.

Generally speaking, a mentor could only use their red or green lamp once.

Now, three of the five green lamps had been used, meaning the entire “Iron Maidens” group advanced.

Such treatment—how could the other contestants not be envious?

But the red lamp was more agonizing; it meant instant elimination, a verdict reserved for only the worst performances.

And as rational people, no one wanted to openly offend others on camera.

Thus, even knowing each mentor possessed both lamps, no one believed the red would ever appear.

Yet now, the red lamp… had appeared!

In the live broadcast room:

At that moment, many viewers mirrored the shock of those onsite.

Su Yunjin’s resolute use of the red lamp was unfathomable.

“Incredible, Su Yunjin actually used the red lamp?”

“Elimination? Did she really eliminate Iron Maidens?”

“Ha, is this just for show? Iron Maidens performed really well this time—their control deserved advancement.”

Shock.

Utter shock.

Many couldn’t understand why Su Yunjin pressed the elimination button at this moment.

Some even suspected she was showboating, wanting to use the veto for dramatic effect.

Meanwhile, onstage, after Su Yunjin exercised her power, the camera zoomed in on Tan Linfang and her group.

Under the high-definition lens, the once-defiant “Iron Maidens” now had furrowed brows, each one serious and attentive.

Tan Linfang bit her lower lip, her gaze locked onto Su Yunjin.

“Teacher Su, did you press the wrong button?” Wang Tao spoke up, hesitant.

His words were partly an attempt to excuse Su Yunjin, partly to ease the tense atmosphere.

But Su Yunjin merely shook her head lightly. “Teacher Wang, my eyesight is fine. I can distinguish red from green.”

She then looked toward Tan Linfang and her group with clear dissatisfaction. “You must find it odd. Why did the others let you pass, but I eliminated you?”

“I think you’re targeting us,” Tan Linfang retorted directly.

With that, the atmosphere plunged to freezing point.

In the live broadcast, viewers were stunned. They knew Tan Linfang was fierce, but hadn’t expected her to confront Su Yunjin so openly.

“Wow, are they about to argue?”

“I thought there wouldn’t be a fight.”

“Seriously, Tan Linfang actually sang properly this time.”

“So exciting—another round of confrontation. Let’s hope it stays verbal.”

The comment barrage flew.

Viewers who’d seen Tan Linfang challenge mentors before now waited with anticipation.

After all, Tan Linfang and her group were notoriously bold—their most legendary feat was driving a mentor offstage in a confrontation.

It could be said that Su Yunjin had stirred up a hornet’s nest.

The online audience settled in to enjoy the spectacle.

Back at the venue, the audience, other contestants, mentors, and staff were all on edge.

Especially when Tan Linfang uttered the word “targeting”—everyone felt a prickling unease.

Only Su Yunjin, faced with Tan Linfang’s defiance, responded with a cold smile. “Targeting? Why would I need to? You didn’t even capture the essence of the song—do I need to target you?”

“How did I not capture the essence?” Tan Linfang’s expression turned combative, unwilling to yield to anyone.

“You handed me the chorus—that’s the core of the song. During your performance, I assisted, but you need to understand: this is a talent show, a place where contestants must earn their own opportunities. This isn’t some interactive stage!

You let me sing the chorus; are you inviting me to compete?”

Tan Linfang’s face changed, but Su Yunjin was relentless, questioning her word by word.

“Mountain, Water, Wind, Moon” was Su Yunjin’s own improvisational creation.

But since Tan Linfang chose it as her contest piece, she needed to grasp that the whole song was her showcase, and the chorus, a test of her vocal prowess.

Earlier, Tan Linfang kept handing off the microphone, giving Su Yunjin the hardest parts. Was this a contest for the “Iron Maidens,” or Su Yunjin’s return to the stage after years?

No matter how lively the atmosphere, the nature of the stage couldn’t be changed.

“I disagree. If I can sing the first round, why not the second? And wasn’t my singing good enough?” Tan Linfang persisted, unlike others, continuing to confront Su Yunjin with unmistakable determination.

Seeing Tan Linfang’s self-assured expression, Su Yunjin scoffed, “Did you really sing the second round? Did you perform the vocal run? Let’s be honest, you didn’t even hit the B5 in the first round—do you think you could reach B5 in the second? In the third round, B5 climbs half a note higher.

If I recall correctly, this song once broke the Guinness World Record for highest note. That record still stands.

I believe you know this—the three rounds, do you understand what that means?

If you’re unconvinced, accompanist, give them the backing track. Now, sing the chorus.”

Tan Linfang was tough, but Su Yunjin was tougher.

Of course, this wasn’t about targeting Tan Linfang, but about maintaining fairness as a mentor.

If everyone did as Tan Linfang, dragging mentors into the performance, how could the competition proceed?

Mentor-contestant interactions? Using mentors for popularity?

Yes.

Tan Linfang may have been habitually testing herself against Su Yunjin, trying to gauge her abilities.

Frankly, Su Yunjin wasn’t afraid of such challenges; if Tan Linfang wanted to compete, she’d agree—just not in this setting, not on a stage meant for fair competition, where every contestant must rely on their own merit.

So Tan Linfang and her group… crossed the line!

Those who disrespect the rules of competition must be eliminated!