Chapter 61: A Phenomenal Explosion
It only took a moment before Ming Ling reacted first.
As a blogger and a major fan, she empathized with the disappointment of casual fans, but she couldn’t afford to sink into the same mood.
At the end of the day, this was a talent show, and morale was crucial.
With that in mind, she spoke at the right moment, “Next up is the stage performance. I read some reviews saying it’s really exciting. Let’s not be sad just yet.”
The livestream chat finally snapped out of it.
[Ahhh, the stage! My stage!]
[It’s here, it’s here! I was so caught up in being sad that I almost forgot we came to watch the stage with Sister Lingdang!]
[No matter what, the truth is out. Let’s just enjoy the performance. That shady production team will get their karma soon enough. If you’re really mad, go vote or recommend him to casual viewers—anything to help Zhaozhao keep rising!]
As a few more comments rolled in, the mood noticeably lifted.
At that moment, the inserted ad had ended, and Dou Yu stepped onto the stage.
After a few brief introductory lines, the entire “Boundless Sea” group lined up on stage.
Almost the instant Xie Xizhao’s face appeared on the big screen, the livestream chat exploded alongside the deafening screams from the live audience.
[Help, he’s so handsome I’m about to faint.]
[WTF WTF don’t hit me with this kind of contrast! I was just saying how soft Zhaozhao is and begging people not to b*lly him…!]
[That face card is insane. I swear, he could go straight into movies. No fan filter here—I really think he has the kind of look that top domestic directors would love. He gives off this sexy, aloof vibe. (Trying to gesture)]
[Just saying, I’m a fan, but the acting industry is super competitive. It takes more than just a good face…]
[Why are you thinking so far ahead about something uncertain? And why are you all so calm? Am I the only one who’s already passed out from his handsomeness? This is insane ahhh!]
The boy on screen, originally soft-featured, had been enhanced by makeup, creating a striking and breathtaking effect. The black print at the corner of his eye was especially captivating—like a drop of red on pure white pear blossoms, both eye-catching and beautiful.
Many performance reviews had already mentioned that Xie Xizhao’s styling in this stage was amazing, but reading about it and experiencing it firsthand were two completely different things.
At this moment, the energy in the livestream chat was completely hooked.
What they didn’t expect, however, was that what would exceed their imagination wasn’t just his looks—but something even more.
As the stage lights beamed down, the chat was already immersed in the dreamlike scene created by light and shadow. Then, the sudden explosion of drumbeats and electric guitar felt like igniting a burning fuse.
On stage, the lighting shifted from deep blue to a bold black-and-red palette.
Ming Ling’s pupils reflected the dazzling stage, as grand as a festival. She was sitting alone in a quiet study, yet it felt like there were flames burning behind her.
Zou Yi opened the performance with the first verse.
His voice, once bright and clear, now carried a deep and rich steadiness. He sang exceptionally well, but at this moment, as Xie Xizhao’s fans, everyone had their eyes locked on just one person.
Dressed casually in a loose T-shirt, his stance was equally relaxed as he played the electric guitar, accompanying his teammates.
He tilted the corner of his lips in a smirk, making eye contact with the audience below. His smile was lazy and nonchalant, the kind that made people’s hearts race. The front-row girls were visibly mesmerized, their gazes dazed—and soon, so was everyone else.
And the moment Xie Xizhao picked up the handheld mic and started singing, that daze reached its peak.
Although every performance review stated that “Boundless Sea” was a collective success, they all also mentioned one thing—only when Xie Xizhao sang the song himself did they truly understand what it meant to breathe soul into music.
His vocal technique was rock-solid.
So solid, in fact, that it completely compensated for the supposed “disadvantage” of his voice being slightly more ordinary in tone—though that “disadvantage” only existed in comparison to those born with god-given vocal timbres. Even then, Xie Xizhao’s voice was still beautiful.
Among the lead singers:
Yun Pan’s voice was slightly husky, hovering between a youthful and mature timbre. Zou Yi’s voice was deep and rich in the lower registers, yet bright in the high notes.
And Xie Xizhao…
His speaking voice was the typical warm tone of a young man, carrying his own unique gentleness.
But when he truly sang a song bursting with wild energy, it was as if his voice had been deliberately shaped by technique and skill alone. The slightly raspy depth he intentionally pressed down carried a lazy, rebellious edge, and through headphones, the tingling sensation it caused could shoot all the way from the spine to the crown of the head.
…Ming Ling was wearing headphones.
It took every ounce of her strength to barely maintain a neutral expression, while the livestream chat had already lost its mind.
And yet—
It wasn’t over.
From the moment Xie Xizhao picked up the mic, it was as if he had broken a seal. Any past impressions of softness or purity felt like nothing more than illusions from another timeline. As the chorus reached its peak, ribbons suddenly shot up from the edges of the stage, exploding midair.
The faint popping of the ribbons was almost insignificant amid the pounding drumbeats, so all anyone could see was a rain of golden streamers descending from above.
And in that golden shower of light, Xie Xizhao stood with the mic, carrying the song to its ultimate climax.
Sweat soaked through the boy’s T-shirt, and as he gripped the microphone, the knuckles of his fingers turned white from the pressure, faint veins surfacing on the back of his hand. Amid the deafening screams of the audience, his powerful final note stretched endlessly, lingering beautifully in the air before fading into silence.
It lasted only a moment.
Then, the band’s instrumental break kicked in once more.
This was a complete audiovisual feast.
Before this performance, everyone had assumed there would be no more surprises.
Words had already captured the magic of the stage to the fullest extent, and no screen could ever match the raw impact of being there in person. That was true. But the screen had its own unique charm.
For instance, the details that were impossible to see live were now magnified infinitely.
Even the air seemed thick with the scent of adrenaline and hormones.
The livestream chat had long since lost coherence—no meaningful words remained. The screen was flooded with endless “ahhhhhhh”, and most people had even forgotten to type altogether.
After the shock and the euphoria came an overwhelming wave of emotion.
During the full-venue chorus, Ming Ling felt a sting of tears welling up in her eyes.
She watched Xie Xizhao sitting at the very edge of the towering stage, an ocean of indistinct faces stretching out beneath him. The lights illuminated his striking profile, making him shine like a divine figure.
Not everyone had come for him.
But in this moment, every heart in the venue was moving for him.
And just like that—whether inside the screen or beyond it—it felt as if they had all shared in a dreamlike frenzy, lost in time, with nothing left in their ears or minds except one name: Xie Xizhao.
And it was only now that they realized—
At the very moment he sang the lyrics “Before the sea rises, meet me here”, the very line every review had highlighted—
Xie Xizhao’s gaze had landed directly on the camera in front of him.
Almost the moment her gaze met the person on the screen, Ming Ling let go of her mouse.
Despite her years navigating the entertainment industry, this was the first time she had ever felt so clearly and unmistakably “done for.” Her ears burned red, yet her mind had already started involuntarily planning how to rearrange her schedule to attend the next Third Public Performance in person.
Or maybe… the finals?
The finals would likely be ticketed, and the venue would be bigger.
…It didn’t matter.
Ming Ling told herself.
No matter what, she had to see Xie Xizhao in person.
She pretended to analyze the logistics with a calm demeanor, but in truth, her mind was a complete mess—her thoughts a chaotic jumble with no logic whatsoever. And judging by the state of the livestream chat, the fans experiencing their first-love-level obsession were in even worse shape than she was.
[Ahhhh Xizhao I’m sorry, it’s not that I don’t want to see you, it’s that I CAN’T—damn this production team, why didn’t they approve my application?! I even changed my fan registration to Xia Ruiyan’s name, wasn’t that enough for you?!]
[My dog is literally sitting next to me watching me cry. This is so embarrassing, I’m falling apart, but I’m also so incredibly moved…]
[WHY AM I NOT AT THE VENUE. WHY AM I NOT AT THE VENUE. WHY AM I NOT AT THE VENUE. Hahaha, did you think I wouldn’t care? Let me tell you—I FREAKING CARE SO MUCH, AHHHH XIZHAO AHHHH!!!]
[Baby… I swear I will love you forever, truly…]
[I FINALLY understand every single word those performance reviews said. I thought my fellow fans were just reassuring me, but turns out they were being modest. What are you all waiting for? Hype him up!!]
But—there was no need to hype anything.
Within just half an hour of “Super Rookie” Episode 2 airing, the “Boundless Sea” performance had already taken over every talent show fan’s homepage.
Marketing accounts, active fan pages, regular viewers—even complete bystanders.
Everyone was either promoting this stage—or on their way to promoting this stage.
One of the crueler aspects of watching on-screen versus being at the venue was that live audiences couldn’t just walk away after a performance, whereas viewers at home could simply fast-forward.
And so, as far as the audience was concerned, “Super Rookie” second public performance only had one stage.
Good or bad, not even Xia Ruiyan’s performance—despite being the most-discussed contestant—made a splash. Even the production team’s shady manipulations were momentarily drowned beneath the surging wave of excitement.
At this moment, “Super Rookie” had finally experienced its first-ever phenomenon-level breakout.
But—the thing that exploded wasn’t the show.
It was one person.
Everyone was witnessing it happen.
The production team, the platform, the major entertainment agencies.
It was hard to say what they were all thinking, but that very night, after finishing a phone call with Ma Hongping, Lu Yan sat alone in her study and watched the performance again.
As golden streamers rained down over the stage, she seemed to catch a glimpse of herself in her early years, just stepping into this industry.
Back then, her dream was to create the most beloved variety show in the country—
A show without behind-the-scenes power plays, without rigid program structures, without scripted formalities.
It was supposed to be full of brilliant creativity, rich in content, and genuinely loved by its audience.
But time had passed, and her youthful ambitions had long since been swallowed by the tide of reality.
At some point, without her realizing it, they had completely disappeared.
—
At this level of virality, suppressing the buzz was pointless.
More than that, after the livestream incident, the show’s reputation had already plummeted to rock bottom. Xie Xizhao’s fans had completely lost trust in the production team—the more they were wronged, the more ferociously loyal they became. And once they turned against you—
Forget about getting the contestants the show wanted.
At this rate, the real question was whether the show itself could even continue.
And so, the promotions, materials, and everything else that should have followed—followed.
“Boundless Sea” lived up to expectations, its popularity skyrocketing. At the same time, Xie Xizhao’s fan count surged alongside it. The most obvious sign was his personal fan forum, where new fans poured in every day.
And these new fans were all active ones—so much so that every time Xie Xizhao passed the iron gate, he would find that he had gained a few more fan site photographers.
With their professional cameras in tow, they eagerly greeted him. Xie Xizhao, with his easygoing personality, greeted them back one by one, reminding them not to push themselves too hard and to dress warmly.
Autumn had arrived.
And just as another cold front swept in, the contestants of “Super Rookie” once again gathered in the activity room.
The second round of eliminations had arrived.
