Xie Ling looked at the messages on WeChat with a faint sense of helplessness.
Now he was certain that the young trainee still in high school at his company was indeed suffering from severe chūnibyō.
Sitting beside Xie Ling, Xie Wutong couldn’t help but ask, “What’s got you so happy?”
Since returning to China, Xie Ling had been generally indifferent to everyone, so it was rare to see him smile.
This piqued Wutong’s curiosity.
Xie Ling picked up the glass of red wine in front of him and smiled at Wutong.
“The kid at the company got three S grades in the talent show.”
Wutong raised an eyebrow.
She had thought that after Xie Ling got rid of Jiang Ran, there’d be no one left to use.
She hadn’t expected a dark horse to appear.
“Are you planning to push him?”
Wutong took a sip of her wine and lazily looked at her younger brother.
Xie Ling nodded, then said, “I want to make him the new top idol. Then I’ll take all the resources from Shenghua, little by little, and make sure they watch helplessly as no brands or production teams come to them.”
The entertainment industry’s resources were limited—if you had them, others didn’t.
If someone else took away your resources, you’d hate them to death.
“Do whatever you want.”
Wutong found Xie Ling childish, but the Xie Family had the means to play this game.
As long as Xie Ling was happy, that was enough.
“Sis, I want to sponsor the Youth Boy program in the name of the Xie Family,” Xie Ling said after a moment’s thought.
“I said, as long as you’re happy.”
Wutong nodded casually.
“Sponsoring a talent show once in a while isn’t bad.”
With that, she grabbed her car keys, put on her coat, and left Xie Ling’s apartment.
Before leaving, she glanced back at Xie Ling and said, “Remember to come home for dinner this weekend.”
“I know.”
Xie Ling nodded and watched her leave.
After Xie Ling returned to his room, his phone suddenly rang.
He looked at the caller ID, hesitated for a moment, then answered.
“Aling.”
Qiyu’s voice sounded tired. He had just finished recording a show and called Xie Ling as soon as he got into the van.
“Why did Emperor Qi suddenly think to call an old friend like me?”
Xie Ling leaned against the wall, his phoenix-like eyes narrowed with a trace of sharpness.
“Are you still mad? I told you, Song Qiusheng is just a substitute. You haven’t been back for so long; I was just reminiscing…”
Qiyu hurriedly explained, but secretly he was pleased to hear Xie Ling’s veiled anger.
It meant Xie Ling still cared.
However, a sneer came from the other end, chilling Qiyu’s heart.
“Don’t compare that lowlife to me. I’m only calling to tell you: everything you’ve taken from me, I’ll take back piece by piece. The favors you gave Song Qiusheng, I’ll snatch them away and give them to Xie Feiran.”
“Xie Feiran? Aling, do you like—”
Before Qiyu could finish, Xie Ling hung up.
When Xie Ling first returned, he was met not with Qiyu’s embrace, but with betrayal.
Without hesitation, he threw the scumbag into the trash bin.
Born to never forget a grudge, Xie Ling was determined to strike back.
Meanwhile, the line went dead, and Qiyu’s face darkened.
He had no idea how much Xie Ling had longed for him in the three years they couldn’t meet, so he had to find a substitute to console himself.
“Mr. Qi, Qiusheng said he’s going to be a special guest on Youth Boy; the schedule is set.”
Qiyu’s assistant cautiously said as he looked at a message on his phone.
Qiusheng’s schedule always had to be reported to Qiyu.
This sudden addition might anger the notoriously bad-tempered Emperor Qi.
The assistant prepared himself for a blowup.
But this time, Qiyu didn’t get angry.
He tilted his head to the assistant.
“Youth Boy? The one with Xie Feiran?”
The assistant nodded.
“He’s trending on today’s hot searches.”
Qiyu lowered his eyes.
“Let Qiusheng go. Make friends with that Xie Feiran. Better yet, try to lure him to our company.”
He wouldn’t allow anything to slip from his control.
Whether by profit or by seduction, he’d keep Xie Feiran away from Xie Ling.
He wanted Xie Ling to understand—he was the only one Xie Ling could love.
“Understood.”
The assistant sighed in relief and immediately messaged Song Qiusheng.
At the trainee dormitory, Xie Feiran had already turned off the lights and closed his eyes.
The live audience in the streaming room had gradually dispersed, but he had logged onto a gaming forum under his usual alias.
The forum was just as it had been, except since his disappearance, the complaints shifted from bashing character balance to blaming the developers and the company.
Among all the inflammatory posts, Xie Feiran cautiously posted a help request.
[Help, the boss says he wants someone to ‘flop.’ What does ‘flop’ mean? How do I make someone flop?]
1st floor: The OP looks familiar.
2nd floor: Didn’t the OP just ask about the talent show last time?
3rd floor: Looks like the OP’s a total straight guy who doesn’t know fan circles. In our gaming terms, ‘flop’ means turning someone from a meta character into a bottom-tier one.
Reading the third-floor explanation, Xie Feiran immediately understood: his boss wanted him to make Song Qiusheng flop.
“Good thing I don’t have to learn fire skills.”
Xie Feiran muttered under the covers.
How could an ice-type possibly learn fire skills? No way.
With that in mind, Xie Feiran searched for Song Qiusheng.
All the results were glowing reviews: charity work, public welfare, good looks, good temper. But Xie Feiran scrolled carefully until he found an anonymous forum.
[I say Song Qiusheng is the sleaziest, greasiest person in the entertainment industry. No one disagrees, right?]
Pictures, pictures, pictures.
The gaze was disgustingly greasy—checking out other female stars’ chests, touching their behinds, leering expressions—absolutely revolting.
1st floor: Let’s see how long the OP survives.
2nd floor: He’s good looking, but way too greasy.
3rd floor: Help, my eyes.
4th floor: Oh my god, why is he so greasy? You could fry a few dishes with all that oil scraped off.
Xie Feiran nodded in approval. The poster had chosen their words well—Song Qiusheng was indeed a greasy person.
Shortly after, the post was deleted and disappeared.
Finally, Xie Feiran let his mind go blank and slipped into unconsciousness.
The next morning, Xie Feiran was notified by staff that they needed to choose a theme song and teammates today, and a special guest would be introduced.
On stage, a hundred trainees stood together.
Xie Feiran clearly noticed the camera focusing on him more.
“Last night, Youth Boy got a new sponsor.”
Ye Ansheng suddenly said beside Xie Feiran.
“It’s from the Xie Family.”
Xie Feiran understood: a big spender was throwing money to turn himself into the show’s golden sponsor. In other words, they were guaranteed a spot.
“We can rest easy now.”
Ye Ansheng winked.
In talent shows like this, many contestants didn’t debut on talent alone—they debuted thanks to capital backing.
At that moment, the camera switched to the host in the middle of the stage.
“Hello everyone, this is the Youth Boy talent show. Today, our contestants will choose their theme song and teammates to prepare for their first public performance. In addition, we have a special guest. Please type his name in the chat.”
After the host finished, the camera cut to Song Qiusheng’s face.
The comment section quickly filled with his name, though a few dissenting voices appeared briefly before being drowned out.
Song Qiusheng smiled confidently, basking in the envious gazes from the trainees below.
After soaking in the admiration, Song Qiusheng said, “I’m just a supporting role today. The stars are them.”
Yu Xiutao, standing nearby, showed a look of annoyance at his words and turned away to talk with Ning Chuyu, while Yun Ziyuan began announcing the rules.
“Contestants with higher scores get priority in choosing their next performance’s song and teammates. The difficulty levels of the songs are on the screen. Xie Feiran, please come on stage to select your song and teammates.”
After Yun Ziyuan finished, the contestants understood why they had to stay until the end of yesterday’s talent showcase—it was to let them better choose their teammates.
Xie Feiran stood on stage, looking over the songs, and without hesitation, picked the S-level difficulty song, Flame.
[He actually chose Flame!]
[That’s Starlight’s Flame. Besides Starlight themselves, I’ve rarely seen a boy group pull off this perfectly, and considering the state of our domestic boy groups…]
[Is he crazy? Flame is exhausting, and you still have to sing on top of that.]
Starlight was a foreign boy group known for their physically demanding choreography and explosive music, with fans worldwide, including many in China.
Starlight fans watched Xie Feiran’s bold choice of Flame and eagerly awaited his downfall.
After all, domestic boy groups simply didn’t have the stamina to perform Flame.
They looked down on local boy groups’ performance capabilities.
Yun Ziyuan, one of the mentors, was slightly surprised.
He looked at Xie Feiran’s somewhat slender frame and doubted whether he could complete the dance successfully.
But Xie Feiran’s thinking was simple: he was the Main Carry.
The big spender was paying to watch him show off damage.
To please the spender, of course he had to max out the difficulty.
Next, Xie Feiran picked teammates.
His logic was clear: a team needed a Main Carry, Vice C, Support, Healer, and a Benchwarmer.
So, he quickly picked four teammates, including Ye Ansheng.
Except for Ye Ansheng, the others looked reluctant.
The dance was just too hard—one slip and their scores would drop.
“Don’t be afraid.”
Xie Feiran reached out his hand to them.
For some reason, looking at Xie Feiran made them feel they could trust him completely.
As long as he was there, nothing was impossible.
Before they realized it, they were standing beside Xie Feiran.
Finally, they all gave a helpless smile.
Since they were here, they might as well give it their all.
Then the others started choosing songs and teammates.
No one else dared to take such risks—they picked songs suited to themselves.
After spending the whole morning, the songs were assigned, and the live broadcast ended.
They had less than ten days to prepare.
Xie Feiran wasn’t nervous. He grabbed Ye Ansheng and headed to the cafeteria, but halfway there, they ran into Song Qiusheng.
Song Qiusheng undoubtedly had a good-looking face: phoenix eyes, rosy pupils, and fairly delicate features. But anyone who had seen Xie Ling would know that Song Qiusheng was a low-tier version.
“I heard your song online. I really like it. Can I invite you to dinner?”
Song Qiusheng tried to hide his arrogance and put on a kind expression, but his gaze couldn’t help but flicker over Xie Feiran’s collarbone and the cinnabar mole on his wrist.
Xie Feiran looked at Song Qiusheng and suddenly felt disgusted.
He couldn’t help but ask, “Is your family out of oil?”
“Huh?”
Song Qiusheng was momentarily stunned.
“No need to use the oil on yourself to fry your dishes.”
At that moment, Ye Ansheng laughed out loud without restraint.