Chapter 91: The Peak Visuals of the Active Group
The whole thing started with Xie Xizhao’s selfie.
Although it was just a routine post, it was the first time he personally engaged in fan service with a selfie. Unexpectedly, his selfie skills were outstanding, and the photo gained some traction.
Not only did it strengthen his existing fanbase, but it also attracted many fans from other groups who didn’t usually follow survival show contestants.
In today’s idol industry, which had already developed into a mature market, very few fans focused solely on one person from a single group. Even the most dedicated solo stans had some level of awareness about other groups in the industry.
After all, groups had comeback periods as well as rest periods. During non-comeback periods, fans often found themselves feeling idle and bored.
Among these fans were those who weren’t particularly interested in survival shows.
They didn’t like survival shows much, but now that this group had already debuted, there was no longer the anxiety of whether their favorites would make it. On top of that, this debut group had signed contracts with durations close to long-term groups, so many bored fans unconsciously started paying attention to this new group.
And then, they discovered…
“Wait, you guys are eating too well, aren’t you?”
For most idols, visuals were their primary asset.
Xie Xizhao’s comment section quickly descended into chaos.
[Such a gorgeous boy! Why is he reeling me in? I’m totally hooked now! ❤]
[Oh my god, his visuals are insane! My homepage keeps pushing his photos, and I swear my soul just ascended. Handsome guy, please post more selfies and bless the world, thank you!]
[Can someone give me some info? I desperately need a new crush—this face is exactly my type! Ahhh!]
Passersby were enthusiastic, and fans were even more so. They immediately and eagerly started replying.
[This super handsome boy is called Xie Xizhao! He was just chosen as the center in Season 3 of Super Rookie! The new group is called The Phoenix, nicknamed “Little Phoenix” =w=. You should check them out! Also, although the official positions haven’t been released yet, our Zhaozhao was already recognized as the all-round ACE during the show! Absolutely a worthy investment! W]
[Ladies, feast your eyes—this man is called Xiao Zhao. Not only does he have top-tier visuals and talent, but he also has a great personality. Have you taken the bait yet? If so, head over to @Xie Xizhao Fan Club V’s pinned post for a deep dive. It’ll be the best 30 seconds of your life!]
As the post was shared more and more, the reach of this photo continued to expand. Even people who didn’t become fans couldn’t help but leave comments like “So handsome” and “This guy might be the best-looking idol in an active group right now. Insane.”
And that last comment—”the peak visuals of active groups”—was where the problem started.
—
Jing Jin had been busy preparing for her final exams lately.
Now that Xie Xizhao had debuted, her peaceful days had come to an end.
Her CET-6 results had just come out, and she had barely scraped a passing grade. Her parents didn’t say much, but her older brother fell into deep thought.
Then, he said, “I remember you used to be pretty good at English?”
Jing Jin’s heart sank.
Xie Xizhao’s way of disciplining her was very… Xie Xizhao.
He simply asked in a calm tone, “Do you want a fan ticket for our comeback stage debut?”
Jing Jin burst into tears.
From that moment on, her dormmates suddenly noticed a drastic change. The girl who used to be obsessed with idols, constantly busy with things they couldn’t understand, seemed to have been put under some kind of spell overnight—she finally started studying properly.
She had always been a good student and was attending a prestigious 211 university. Now that she had snapped out of her previously distracted state, her former academic excellence quickly returned.
That day, after reviewing for her final subject, Jing Jin finally felt she deserved a reward.
So, she logged onto a video streaming site.
Naturally, the first thing she searched for was the latest episode of the group’s reality show.
After finishing the episode with a goofy smile on her face—and furiously typing comments like, “Ahhh, Brother Xiao Zhao’s god-tier visuals! The kitten without makeup will be kissed bald by mom!” (something her brother would definitely flick her forehead for if he saw)—she finally started browsing the comments.
She loved reading the comments.
Because they were siblings, their blood connection made her feel a deep sense of pride whenever she saw strangers praising her brother.
This time was no different.
She quietly liked comments like “Ahhh, Zhaozhao is so eloquent,” “He was so cute when he stepped in to break up the argument T^T,” and “How is his bare face this soft-looking? I just want to squish him!” She also took the opportunity to refute a comment that said, “Why is Zou Yi the leader? And he even voted for himself… yikes.”
[What’s wrong with voting for himself? Zou Yi was always suited for the leader position.]
[Just because one person is a good fit doesn’t mean another person isn’t. He and my brother have a great relationship, no need for that forced “let’s vote for each other out of politeness” nonsense.]
[Besides, being a leader isn’t exactly some grand privilege. Do people really think leading a boy group is some kind of jackpot prize? I should be thanking Zou Yi instead. My brother’s body still hasn’t fully recovered—this way, he has one less thing to stress about.]
If Zou Yi had seen this, he would have undoubtedly thought, “As expected of his sister.”
Even their way of phrasing things was almost identical—if that wasn’t a kind of unspoken understanding, what was?
After posting her comment, Jing Jin finally felt satisfied. The notification for likes on her post started popping up rapidly, but she continued scrolling down the page.
And then, she saw a particular conversation thread.
[Our Zhaozhao’s visuals are seriously insane. He looks good in every single screenshot. This episode was barefaced too, right? Honestly, it feels like success is making him even more radiant. I remember when he first joined the show, he wasn’t this good-looking.]
[Random passerby here, but I really think he might be the top visual among active groups. Just based on his face alone, he’d be part of the visual line, but after seeing that magazine shoot of his, I feel like his aura is overflowing. Especially his eyes—his presence in front of the camera is so strong that he could totally hold his own in the film industry.]
[Oof, wouldn’t dare to say that.jpg]
[Hahaha, thanks for the compliment, but we really can’t say that. If you ask why, it’s because people will claim we’re disrespecting our seniors by “stealing titles.” Meanwhile, certain fans of a supposedly “top-tier” group that’s been leeching off their senior group’s popularity for years—without ever reaching the top—keep running around picking fights with junior group fans. What’s up with that?]
Jing Jin frowned.
She scrolled down a bit more but didn’t find anything particularly useful. So, she closed the webpage. This time, she had finally pieced together the full story.
In the idol industry, groups were ranked by seniority, determined by their debut order.
As the number of idol groups increased, generational distinctions became less obvious. Nowadays, the simplest way to categorize them was by whether they were active or inactive.
Active groups were those still promoting, which was the broadest category. Beyond that, there were more specific distinctions, such as comeback groups—groups promoting albums and performing on music shows during the same period.
This time, the group clashing with Xie Xizhao’s fans was Newstar—a fixed group that had debuted two years before The Phoenix and was currently at the height of their popularity.
Jing Jin felt that the name Newstar looked oddly familiar. She did a quick search online and soon figured out why.
Newstar was the original artist of Victory, the solo song her brother had performed in the finals. They were the junior group of Victory, the legendary first-generation group.
Now that she understood the context, the replies above became much more intriguing.
Newstar was indeed popular now, but when they first debuted, they had relied heavily on their senior group, Victory, for exposure.
Their company, Renyu Media, was a small agency that had managed to defy the odds once, producing the legendary Victory. But with no successors to carry the torch, they became desperate to recreate their past success. The members of Newstar constantly referenced their seniors, and under the company’s direction, their fans had been at war with Victory’s fans since day one.
This set the foundation for Ns fans—who gained notoriety for their aggressive fan wars, using drama and infighting to strengthen their fanbase.
Of course, Newstar’s members were fairly talented, and their chosen image was a fresh, clean-cut concept. Their core visual and face of the group was Xue Zixiao—the very member currently stirring up conflict with Xie Xizhao’s fans.
Xue Zixiao was undeniably good-looking.
But his visuals weren’t the androgynous, ethereal beauty of Shi Song, nor the sharp, handsome style of Fu Wenze or Ai Qingyuan. Instead, his face fit the carefully crafted idol aesthetic—delicate, polished, and refined.
His most iconic moment was a set of photos featuring him with fiery red hair.
In those pictures, the young man’s messy bangs framed his pale skin, made even more striking by the bold hair color. He stood in the rain, gripping a golden microphone, with faint blue veins visible on the back of his hand—sexy and breathtaking.
From then on, Xue Zixiao consistently ranked first in every major visual poll, maintaining his top spot to this day.
Jing Jin…
Jing Jin found him just okay.
She was casually chatting with Ming Ling about the whole situation, lazily typing out her thoughts:
[Isn’t it just because their group is famous and has more fans, so they get more votes?]
[Just judging by the pictures, he’s… extremely average.]
On the other end of the chat, Ming Ling coughed.
After all, being a few years older, Ming Ling was naturally more level-headed than a college student like Jing Jin.
[Hmm…]
[But their fandom does seem to feel that calling someone else the “top visual among active groups” is an insult to them. That’s what they’ve been arguing about these past few days.]
[It hasn’t blown up—just a small-scale fight among casual fans.]
Jing Jin glanced at her screen.
[But I saw that one of their big accounts is getting passive-aggressive about it.]
She was referring to an account with the ID Soaring to the Skies. They hadn’t directly called anyone out, but they had reposted Xue Zixiao’s latest photos with the hashtag #XueZixiaoTheOnlyTopVisualAmongActiveGroups—buried among a mess of dramatic, colorful titles.
Jing Jin twitched her lips.
Suddenly, their fandom’s modest and humble use of “all-rounder ACE” for Zhaozhao felt way too restrained.
Ming Ling hadn’t noticed this yet.
After Jing Jin sent her a screenshot, she, too, fell into silence.
Fandom disputes among casual fans were one thing. But when major fan accounts got involved—especially those who were either part of the official fan club management or had insider connections—it was rarely just for fun. And especially not at a sensitive time like this.
Ming Ling thought for a moment.
[Should I ask the company about it?]
Jing Jin: Mhm mhm.
Meanwhile, as their private conversation continued, the battle outside was already escalating.
To be fair, Xie Xizhao’s fans were quite capable fighters, but their fandom environment was mostly positive and healthy.
That was largely thanks to him and how he guided them.
But even the most patient person had their limits.
At first, his fans had responded with restraint, trying to smooth things over with comments like:
[No, no, both our Zhaozhao and his seniors are very handsome! Hope they can collaborate someday~]
[It’s just gossip accounts stirring things up—let’s not be used as pawns. Taking my Zhaozhao and leaving this mess.]
But when the other side’s tone grew increasingly passive-aggressive—eventually escalating to outright personal attacks—Xie Xizhao’s fans couldn’t just sit back anymore.
Honestly, if the other side wanted to start drama, fine.
But first of all, the comment had come from a casual fan. Regular people didn’t care about the idol industry’s seniority system—they just said whatever they felt like.
And second…
Well, it was the truth. 🙂
Of course, beauty was subjective—everyone had their own tastes.
But acting like any random nobody could dare to challenge the title of top visual?
Now that was a joke.
Xie Xizhao’s fans had held back again and again, but at this point, they saw no reason to keep enduring it.
By the time Xie Xizhao heard about this bizarre online war from his teammates, the fight had already reached its peak.
Lately, Xie Xizhao had been practically living in the practice room.
Not because he wanted to, but because the company had insisted on it.
Now that the group reality show had wrapped up, their official training schedule had finally kicked in.
Their new title track hadn’t been assigned yet, but the songs for their first album were set.
Two of them were performances from the competition:
“Boundless Sea” from Round 2,
“One by One” from Round 3.
The inclusion of “Boundless Sea” had actually surprised Xie Xizhao.
After all, he had written and composed that song himself.
While Shenghong wasn’t the type to suppress talent outright, they also weren’t stupid enough to boost him at the risk of handing Yaoxin all the credit.
Ai Qingyuan, however, hit the nail on the head:
“Maybe they just want it for free?”
Xie Xizhao: “…”
He raised a brow. “Isn’t this your company we’re talking about?”
“Exactly, that’s why I said it.” Ai Qingyuan shrugged. “Not like the shareholders are giving me any of their profits.”
Fu Wenze had once joked that Ai Qingyuan was suffering from “Guan Heng Syndrome.”
Side effect #2:
The once overly competitive Young Master Ai, who had only cared about winning, was now hyper-aware of corporate power struggles and hidden interests.
Of course, sometimes, he overthought things.
Because in this case, Shenghong had actually paid Xie Xizhao his copyright fees.
Miao Haicheng, seemingly reading Xie Xizhao’s mind, chuckled and said, “Don’t overthink it. The song’s just really popular. The company is riding your wave.”
On X-Sound’s leaderboard, which tracked all songs from the competition, “Boundless Sea” had been sitting comfortably at #1 ever since its release.
Just like Xie Xizhao’s personal popularity had skyrocketed, so had his music.
Xie Xizhao nodded in understanding.
As for “One by One”, it was both pleasant to listen to and easy to choreograph.
Their choreographer had sent them a five-member version, and when they practiced, they found themselves surprisingly in sync.
—
That afternoon, after one final full run of “One by One”, Xie Xizhao and Fu Wenze sat on the sidelines, sipping water and chatting.
Fu Wenze mused, “This song is actually pretty good.”
Xie Xizhao agreed. “Yeah.”
It was a classic boy group track—upbeat and energetic, but not overly flashy or grating. Just… nice.
And the choreography was solid.
With only five members, there were inevitable gaps in formation.
But Shenghong was a major company, and their top-tier choreographers had done an excellent job filling the stage without overloading it.
For Xie Xizhao, this meant less work, since he didn’t have to micromanage the performance.
Now that Zou Yi was the leader, all Xie Xizhao had to do was focus on his own part.
For the first time in a while, he actually felt like he was on vacation.
—
“I wonder what direction our first album will take,” Fu Wenze mused. “The five of us have really different styles.”
That was true.
Xie Xizhao considered his response—but before he could speak, Yun Pan interrupted.
“Hey.”
“Hmm?”
Yun Pan raised his phone. “Brother, you’re trending again.”
Fu Wenze, unbothered, took another sip of water. “And that’s… surprising?”
At this point, they were all used to it.
That was just how things were during competition season.
In the end, even when Xie Xizhao posted a teaser or had just a few extra seconds of screen time in a promo, he would still trend on the hot search.
Honestly, having such a massive gap in popularity within a group often affected relationships between members. After all, they were all adults—there was bound to be some psychological imbalance between the top and the back.
But just as the forums had analyzed, TP was an exception.
For one, the group members all had decent personalities—anyone with a bad attitude had already been eliminated during the competition.
And more importantly, Xie Xizhao was simply too strong.
Under Xie Xizhao, everyone was equal. They all held roughly the same level of popularity.
Even Ai Qingyuan, who was the most competitive and unwilling to accept defeat, had been convinced after competing against Xie Xizhao. The others had no reason to complain.
Xie Xizhao was undeniably talented, but his health was poor. Before anyone could even develop a sense of rivalry, the competition was already over.
Since they were all normal human beings, they actually ended up taking care of him more in their daily lives.
—
“You’re right.” Yun Pan thought for a moment. “Then I’ll go vote for you, bro.”
Xie Xizhao: “…?”
“What vote?” he asked, confused.
Yun Pan held up his phone, showing a large, bold headline:
[Who do you think is the No.1 visual in all active boy groups?]
The post belonged to a well-known entertainment marketing account.
Xie Xizhao’s mouth twitched.
…Huh?
Fu Wenze also leaned over to take a look—and immediately frowned.
He just couldn’t understand the point of such a meaningless poll. “Does this even matter?”
“Exactly,” Xie Xizhao agreed.
He also found it completely pointless.
People always found the most random things to obsess over.
“If it’s not you, then who else?” Fu Wenze continued.
Xie Xizhao: ?
Fu Wenze suddenly thought of something and reminded Yun Pan, “Don’t vote with your main account.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Yun Pan said without even looking up. “This is my alt. I just want to see the numbers.”
After Yun Pan cast his vote, the results stood at 30,000 votes to 25,000.
Xie Xizhao was in the lead.
As they chatted, Zou Yi and Ai Qingyuan returned with their water. Ai Qingyuan had been spending a lot of time online lately—just one glance, and he immediately understood what was going on.
“Oh, this thing?”
He briefly summarized the recent drama. Everyone fell silent.
In the end, it was Yun Pan who broke the silence.
“…This is so childish,” he muttered.
Visuals were indeed one of the standards for judging idols, but beauty had no fixed standard to begin with. Insisting on ranking it was just ridiculous.
“This is basically a fan engagement test,” Zou Yi joked. “Xizhao, your fans are pretty good at fighting back. And this poll has a huge voter pool—how does a random marketing account get tens of thousands of votes?”
That was what shocked them the most.
They had been so focused on practice that they hadn’t paid any attention to these online arguments. Now, seeing the numbers, they realized this was probably bigger than they had thought.
And so…
Before Xie Xizhao could stop them, his teammates eagerly logged into their alt accounts and started voting, saying things like:
“Xizhao, even if it’s pointless, a fight is a fight! The best-looking man in active boy groups is in our group—that’s something to be proud of!”
Xie Xizhao: “…”
Just admit you all love drama.
He rubbed his temples, feeling a little helpless.
He did care about how people judged him, but he cared way more about evaluations of his professional skills. When it came to looks, rankings meant nothing to him.
But he also knew his teammates were just joking around. At most, they’d each cast one vote.
What he didn’t expect was that, while they weren’t taking it seriously—someone else was.
After they cast their votes, they went back to practice.
Meanwhile, under the heated voting post, a new comment suddenly appeared.
[??? WTF, did Newstar’s maknae just slip up?]
Attached was a screenshot of a voting record.
[Newstar-Zheng Yunli V:
‘I just voted for Newstar-Xue Zixiao in the ‘Who do you think is the No.1 visual among active boy groups?’ poll. Come check it out too!~’]
