Chapter 79: Doll
The fan meeting had been a customary event before the finals of Super Rookie.
After three rounds of eliminations, the remaining fifteen contestants would hold a fan meeting. The first half of the event had consisted of the contestants following a set program, playing games, and interacting with each other, while the second half had been dedicated to face-to-face interactions with their fans.
It had essentially been a disguised autograph session—except instead of purchasing albums, participation had been determined by fan club allocations and a lottery.
There had been nothing unusual about it. Back when Xie Xizhao had traveled through various small worlds, he had experienced plenty of autograph sessions. However, this had been his first time being an idol in his original body. Although it had felt slightly unfamiliar, he had managed to adjust.
…Blame Ai Qingyuan.
For some reason, this guy had recently taken an unusual interest in Xie Xizhao’s styling and activities for the fan meeting. He had even gone so far as to stop by the iron gate on his way out and tell Xie Xizhao’s fans that he usually acted too aloof—so this was a great opportunity to tease him.
“Am I aloof?” Xie Xizhao asked Ai Qingyuan.
The other replied, “No.”
Then quickly added, “But you’re not exactly approachable either.”
“It’s hard to describe,” Ai Qingyuan said, his tone deliberately cryptic.
Xie Xizhao: ?
He had no idea what Ai Qingyuan had meant by “hard to describe”—he had only found it absurd.
The most absurd part had been that the people close to him had actually joined in on the fun. At that moment, the entire world—including his fans—had known that the main target for teasing at the fan meeting had been Xie Xizhao.
…Though maybe they had already been eager for it.
What he hadn’t expected was for Fu Wenze to get involved as well. He asked, “…Why are you even wearing that?”
His confidence was visibly lacking.
“Ask your fans,” Fu Wenze replied.
Xie Xizhao: “…”
“I heard it’s not just a headband,” Fu Wenze continued. “There are all kinds of accessories. Basically, you’re going to end up looking like a doll.”
Xie Xizhao: “…”
He knew it!
And was it really appropriate to say something so bizarre in such a serious tone…?
Without hesitation, he retorted, “You will too.”
Fu Wenze replied, “I’m fine with that.”
Xie Xizhao: ?
“I lost,” the reigning two-time C-position holder admitted sincerely. Fu Wenze chuckled, pulled out his key, and unlocked the dormitory door.
—
They had their complaints, but opportunities to meet fans were rare, so the trainees still cherished them.
There were still a few days left until the finals, and Xie Xizhao didn’t bother looking for other people. Instead, he teamed up with his two roommates to prepare for the entertainment segment in the earlier part of the competition.
However, he soon regretted this decision.
Fu Wenze and Ai Qingyuan seemed to be naturally incompatible. They started bickering as soon as they discussed the song selection—one suggested doing something cool, while the other retorted, “Haven’t you had enough of looking cool on stage already?”
Xie Xizhao felt a headache coming on.
“I’ll decide,” he said. “I’ll decide, okay?”
With that, the two finally had no objections.
Xie Xizhao quietly browsed through their options and eventually settled on a song medley.
Fu Wenze and Ai Qingyuan would sing ballads, while he would do the rap. Simple, yet with a twist. After all, their main goal was to debut, so showcasing their skills was the priority.
As for variety entertainment, there would be plenty of opportunities after their debut. Other games could also highlight their sense of humor.
The two quickly came around, especially Fu Wenze.
He had performed rap in all three previous public performances, and all of them had been in the typical boy-band style.
While this played to his strengths, it also lacked surprise and freshness.
The same went for Ai Qingyuan.
So, the two of them focused on practicing the songs Xie Xizhao had chosen.
Gradually, their schedules started syncing with his, forming a routine of sleeping at 11 PM and waking up at 7 AM. They even went everywhere together, just like elementary school kids going to the bathroom in pairs. This unusual development left their fans astonished.
Every day, under their fansite masters’ photos of them coming and going, people murmured:
[Did our Xiao Ai take the wrong medicine or something? He’s actually waking up at seven?]
[Damn, I was forced to wake up early too. I missed him the past couple of days, so I asked another fansite master and found out that they’ve been going to bed early and waking up early—like they’re in military training or something. This is insane.]
[His roommate seems to be the same. Maybe after Brother Heng left, Xiao Ai decided to turn his life around?]
[…Can CP fans stop being annoying? Get lost.]
Meanwhile, under Fu Wenze’s fansite photos:
[What’s up with Brother Fu lately? Wasn’t he always on the ‘if the moon doesn’t sleep, I don’t sleep’ schedule?]
[Yeah, he was super rebellious. I used to be able to catch his off-work photos at 11 PM. Don’t scare me like this.]
[The same thing seems to be happening with AQY’s fansite…]
The two fanbases put their heads together and—whoa.
None of their schedules matched—except with that of their third roommate.
Xie Xizhao’s fans were amused.
[Well, early to bed and early to rise makes for a healthy body!]
[What ‘if the moon doesn’t sleep, I don’t sleep’? If the moon’s going to bed, everyone’s following our Zhaozhao to sleep!]
[…That sounds kind of weird.]
[Hey, you two fandoms better send our Zhaozhao a banner of appreciation! The finals are coming up, and staying in top physical condition is super important. Ah, our Zhaozhao is just so beautiful inside and out.]
The next day, Fu Wenze’s fansite master actually did send Xie Xizhao a banner as a joke.
There had never been much conflict between these two fanbases—Fu Wenze’s goal was debuting, while Xie Xizhao was aiming for center. Now that they were getting along, Fu Wenze’s fans were happy to see it.
Xie Xizhao’s fans weren’t exactly thrilled, but since their numbers were large, there were always some who enjoyed seeing their idol interact with others. At least it kept things interesting.
And just like that, the day of the fan meeting arrived.
—
On the day of the fan meeting, Xie Xizhao wore dark colors for a change.
He had on a black fleece hoodie and khaki pants—a low-key yet warm and comfortable outfit.
As he did his makeup in front of the mirror, he kept it minimal since it was just a fan meeting. A bit of lipstick to add some color, a touch on his eyebrows, and that was it.
Even with such light makeup, the person in the mirror looked fair, delicate, and effortlessly elegant.
The makeup artist teased, “Hand over your skincare secrets.”
Xie Xizhao replied with a straight face, “Early to bed and early to rise keeps you healthy.”
He stood up and left with the others, boarding the bus to the venue. The weather was beautiful that day, with sunlight draping over the scenery, making everything feel bright and cheerful.
By the time they arrived, fans were already lining up, waiting eagerly.
As they entered through the back door, someone marveled, “There are so many people.”
And there really were.
The venue for this fan meeting was massive. Besides the fifty interaction spots for each group, there were hundreds of additional seats for spectators. The first half of the event was all stage performances, so the entire outdoor plaza was a sea of colors, packed with banners and decorations from different fan groups.
There were also fans holding slogan banners and dressed up specifically for the occasion.
Xie Xizhao’s fan support was placed in the most eye-catching spot. His fan color—green—was a bold choice, but thankfully, they had gone with a fresh mint green instead of an aggressive fluorescent green that looked like a giant dice.
Right at the front of the flower wall was a giant dice made of fabric.
Xie Xizhao chuckled at the sight and whispered to the little dice in his pocket,
“Look, your kind.”
The little pet in his pocket: “…”
Don’t lump me together with a lifeless object that has no spirit, okay?
The little pet fumed, landing with the “2” side facing up in protest.
But Xie Xizhao knew its temper well. He didn’t even bother glancing into his pocket, simply carrying it along as he strolled into the venue.
After a quick rehearsal, the fan meeting officially began.
—
Today’s host was Dou Yu.
As an active idol with an exceptionally polished hosting skillset and a gentle personality, he had essentially become the show’s go-to utility player—wherever they needed someone, they’d call on him.
Of course, it was a win-win.
After spending so much time on the show, Dou Yu had gained a fair number of fans himself.
He was dressed casually today, and as soon as he stepped onto the stage, the crowd erupted into cheers.
Seeing a good-looking person up close only made their beauty even more striking.
He smiled and said, “You’re all very enthusiastic today.”
A bold fan in the audience called out, “Teacher Dou, can you sit on stage with the trainees later? We want to interact with you too!”
Laughter rippled through the crowd.
Dou Yu chuckled as well. “Well, that’s not entirely impossible.”
After a bit of casual chatting, the trainees took the stage. This time, the screams were noticeably louder.
Compared to last time, Xie Xizhao’s reception had improved significantly.
As the center, he was positioned right in the middle of the stage. During the opening talk segment, Dou Yu directed the most questions at him. The behind-the-scenes efforts, the unseen hard work—through these lighthearted conversations, they finally became known to the audience.
Xie Xizhao’s fans in the crowd were overwhelmed with emotion.
Then, the showcase performance began.
Fans hadn’t expected much from this segment, but Xie Xizhao’s team still managed to blow them away.
The medley consisted of the most well-known songs, but the real surprise came from how the parts were distributed. The usual dance lead had been assigned the high notes, the designated rap member was now singing the emotional chorus of a ballad, and as for—
Well, Xie Xizhao was the ACE. In theory, he was supposed to be good at everything.
But no one had expected him to actually rap.
And he didn’t just rap—he went hard.
Dressed in his soft fleece hoodie, speaking in his usual gentle voice, he had just been calmly explaining the creative process. But without warning, he launched into his verse, the warm tones of his speaking voice vanishing in an instant.
Everything about his rap—the unfamiliar beat, the fresh and intricate lyrics—made it clear that this was an original piece.
It was no secret that Xie Xizhao wrote his own songs, but beyond that, his entire delivery—his rhythm, breath control, and articulation—was flawless. Whether from a casual listener’s perspective or a technical standpoint, it was simply enjoyable to listen to.
Another 30 seconds.
The last time he had stunned everyone with a 30-second sword dance, proving that his name carried infinite potential. This time, he cemented that potential as truly limitless.
As soon as his rap ended, Fu Wenze picked up seamlessly with the next song.
Their voices blended perfectly, giving the audience an almost indulgent auditory experience.
While Fu Wenze sang, Xie Xizhao finally emerged from his hyper-focused rapping state. He glanced toward the audience and smiled. Casually swaying to the music, he walked back toward the others with an easy, relaxed confidence.
A different kind of mastery.
On the other side, as Fu Wenze finished singing, Ai Qingyuan took over seamlessly.
Despite never having collaborated before, the three of them already had the makings of a true group.
When their short performance ended, the audience remained stunned for a moment, struggling to process what they had just witnessed.
—
A fan meeting wasn’t like a public performance. Concerts prohibited live reports and recordings to prevent spoilers, but at fan meetings, the moment the event ended, various fan-taken videos and text reports would flood the internet. Since audience members weren’t required to put away their phones, content spread even faster.
Xie Xizhao’s performance had barely ended when online posts started popping up.
[Breaking news! Zhaozhao rapped! Super solid!]
[AAAAHHH Zhaozhao rapped! He performed a medley with Xiao Ai and Brother Fu, their coordination was insane!]
[As a dual-fan, I’m in tears… Ai Qingyuan and Xie Xizhao—I thought after the first public performance, you two would never share a stage again!]
[RAPPER ZHAO!!! I NEED TO SEE IT! WHERE’S THE FAN CAM? WHERE IS MY FAN CAM?!]
Not long after, the fan cams were uploaded. Due to file size limitations, the first to spread widely was Xie Xizhao’s rap clip. Fans were emotional—here was their idol, even at a fan meeting, still prioritizing showcasing his skills. It was clear he truly wanted to debut.
So, while they replayed the footage on loop, the daily grind of voting for him resumed with renewed intensity.
Meanwhile, Xie Xizhao had no idea that he was once again on his way to breaking into the mainstream.
At that moment, he was silently sitting at a long table that had been pushed together for the event. Staff members were laying out tablecloths and setting up water bottles. In ten minutes, the second half of the fan meeting would begin.
Since Ai Qingyuan ranked second, he naturally sat beside him.
He turned to Xie Xizhao and said, “Don’t be nervous.”
Xie Xizhao: “…”
“I’m not nervous,” he replied.
His pronunciation was clear, and his voice was steady—just like when he rapped.
Ai Qingyuan sometimes admired this ability of his, this unshakable calm. So, he smoothly changed his wording. “Then can you at least stop looking like you’re about to be forced into selling meat?”
A nearby staff member’s hand trembled slightly upon hearing this. They quickly turned away—
To avoid laughing out loud.
Xie Xizhao smiled, his expression unwavering, and reached out his hand.
The next second, Ai Qingyuan suddenly felt a sharp poke at the most sensitive spot on his waist. He jerked upright in shock, locking eyes with equally startled fans in the audience.
Ai Qingyuan: “…”
Xie Xizhao calmly pulled him back down. “Sorry, he’s just a little nervous.”
The fans nodded in understanding.
Having his own words backfire on him, Ai Qingyuan could no longer laugh. He was grinding his teeth, about to say something, when he noticed fans were already lining up to enter. He had no choice but to swallow his words.
—
Xie Xizhao suddenly had an epiphany.
He realized this really wasn’t a big deal.
Even though he felt that, at twenty-something, he really shouldn’t be acting cute like a teenager, if the fans liked it, then so be it. Acting cute wouldn’t kill him.
The first fan who stepped up was a young woman in her early twenties.
She was holding a cat-ear headband.
The headband had a small cat-shaped hair clip in the center, flanked by a pair of fluffy, cream-colored faux cat ears—soft and adorable.
It was her first time meeting her idol in person, and she was visibly nervous. As soon as she opened her mouth, she blurted out, “Brother Zhao, I’ve liked you for so long! I’ve been voting for you ever since your first stage performance of World!”
‘That was quite early indeed,’ Xie Xizhao thought.
Back then, he was still considered a background character in the eyes of the public.
He responded sincerely, “Thank you.”
Perhaps his tone was too earnest because the young woman became even more emotional. Each fan had about a minute and a half, and she spent the first thirty seconds stumbling through her words, recounting her journey as a fan. Xie Xizhao listened attentively while signing her poster.
When she mentioned how stressful her exams had been during that time, he thought for a moment before adding a small blessing: “Wishing you success in your studies.”
Her eyes sparkled with gratitude.
After chatting a bit more, she hesitantly pulled out the cat-ear headband and asked, “Can you wear this for a bit? The girls in our fan group really want to see you in it—they think you’d look adorable.”
Xie Xizhao paused for a moment, then took it.
The headband fit perfectly, soft to the touch, and of high quality.
Since he couldn’t see himself, after putting it on, he hesitated for the first time and asked in an uncertain tone,
“…Is it crooked?”
He felt like it was crooked.
The young woman’s eyes lit up. “It is!”
Xie Xizhao: “…”
Huh?
He had no idea what he looked like.
His fair complexion gave him an almost bare-faced purity. His features already carried a youthful charm, and with his dark hair, he looked even younger—like he had returned to his Stand By era as a high school student.
Now, with the thin headband blending into his hair, only the two fluffy, cream-colored kitten ears were visible.
The ears were designed with such realism that their slightly lopsided position gave them an endearing clumsiness—almost as if they had grown naturally from his head.
Paired with his rare hint of embarrassment…
The young woman covered her mouth.
“He looked way too adorable—ahhh!”
Luckily, she had already arranged for a proxy photographer! As soon as she got home, she was going to treasure these photos forever!
The first fan left with a blissful smile, leaving behind a completely bewildered Xie Xizhao.
Half a minute later, the next fan had already taken her seat in front of him. In her hands was a fluffy bunny-ear hat.
This fan was already working—a corporate employee.
Her personality was clearly much more composed.
Right away, she spoke concisely, saying everything she wanted to: that many people loved him, that he should take care of his health and not overwork himself, and that everyone adored each and every one of his performance stages.
Xie Xizhao quickly regained his natural composure and listened attentively.
Setting aside the whole “acting cute” aspect, he genuinely enjoyed this opportunity.
Events like this transformed the names buried in his fan list into real, living people, allowing him to feel their love and anticipation more clearly.
Unfortunately, the pleasant conversation came to an end all too soon.
When he saw the fan take out the bunny-ear hat, he finally couldn’t hold back anymore.
“…Do you all have some kind of misunderstanding about me?”
Was his Second Public Performance not wild enough?!
The fan remained completely serious.
“Teacher Xie, no matter how low your neckline is, in the eyes of your mom-fans, you will always be a baby.”
Three-year-old baby Xie Xizhao: “…”
Resigned to his fate, he put on the bunny ears.
The fan’s eyes lit up.
She asked, “Can you make the ears stand up?”
Xie Xizhao: “?”
At that moment, Ai Qingyuan, unable to hold back any longer, swiftly reached over and pulled the drawstrings on either side of Xie Xizhao’s face.
In the next second, Xie Xizhao distinctly felt something on top of his head swish upright.
The mature, rational, wise, and composed female fan covered her mouth and let out a pained “Ying—”
Xie Xizhao: “…”
He attempted to take down his roommate with a single glare, but Ai Qingyuan, looking thoroughly avenged, was utterly satisfied.
Ai Qingyuan said, “Teacher Xie, sometimes you really need to reflect on yourself.”
So far, every fan he had encountered had been the type to let him show off his cool side.
At this moment, he was wearing a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, exuding a certain scoundrel-like charm beneath his seemingly refined appearance.
Expression blank, Xie Xizhao slowly turned his head away. The bunny ears drooped with the motion, flopping softly onto his forehead.
The third prop: bear ears.
—
In the blink of an eye, half of the thirty fans had come and gone.
Xie Xizhao felt like he had cosplayed an entire zoo.
Of course, there were also some other things—random accessories like flower crowns and tiaras. All in all, he truly felt like he had turned into a doll, just like Fu Wenze.
Xie Xizhao: “…”
Xie Xizhao didn’t understand, but he respected and accepted it.
By the time he reached the final stretch, he had become noticeably more skilled. When a fan shyly asked, “Zhaozhao, can you meow for us?” he didn’t even flinch before responding with a deadpan “Meow.”
Ai Qingyuan got full-body goosebumps. When he turned and saw Xie Xizhao’s calm and composed expression, he finally had to admit defeat.
Following the principle of if I don’t acknowledge it, then the cute accessories on my head don’t exist, Xie Xizhao’s fan service skills became increasingly refined, and his ability to act cute reached near perfection.
Watching as the line of fans dwindled, he finally exhaled a quiet breath of relief.
But before he could even finish sighing, a familiar figure appeared before him.
The girl was dressed in a riot of colors, as if she had rolled through a spilled paint bucket before stepping in.
She had put on the most elaborate makeup Xie Xizhao had ever seen on her—her lashes were thick and long, and by his conservative estimate, she had probably layered on mascara at least two or three times.
In her hand, she carried a massive bag, overflowing with various props that peeked out as if jostling to escape and take a look at the outside world.
Among them, Xie Xizhao even spotted a bridal veil.
His expression froze. The corner of his mouth twitched as he watched the girl casually plop down in front of him.
“Morning,” she greeted cheerfully.
Xie Xizhao hesitated before replying, “…Morning.”
“We’re already familiar with each other, so let’s skip the small talk,” Jing Jin said, her tone both calm and utterly diabolical as she rummaged through her bag of props.
“Time is limited, so let’s get started right away.”
**TN
Ying/嘤 – on the internet, it means ‘I’m crying’ or about to cry
