Chapter 96: A Little Higher (30% Forum Format)
When he spoke, Xie Xizhao had already stepped out of his work mode.
His eyes still carried traces of exhaustion, but the selfless immersion from moments ago had faded. Now, they appeared clear and focused. He placed his streaming equipment on the table and adjusted the angle slightly to include both himself and Fu Wenze in the frame.
Then, he finally said, “Good evening, everyone.”
[Goo…d… eve…ning…]
[It’s too late, my HP has hit zero, I can’t recover, peaceful.jpg]
[I finally understand why people say that someone working seriously is the most attractive. I was completely dazed. I don’t even know what he just said. I was just staring at his face.]
“Yuni Latte 123,” Xie Xizhao read out a username.
[?!]
[OMG, are you calling me? I’m here! Ahhh, baby, what’s up?!]
“Nothing, just testing.” Xie Xizhao chuckled and blinked. “Seems like you can still hear me, right? At least when I call your name?”
[…I give up, Dad.]
[Stop flirting, stop it! I really can’t handle this!! QAQ]
Seeing this, Xie Xizhao decided to stop teasing.
He said, “Sorry, everyone. I’ve been busy these past few days, so I haven’t posted much on Weibo.”
[It’s okay, baby! Post if you want, don’t post if you don’t want to!]
Xie Xizhao laughed. “So indulgent? Then I won’t post anymore.”
Before the barrage of bullet comments could flood the screen with protests, he quickly corrected himself, “Just kidding. I’ll post tomorrow. Tomorrow… hmm, I’m actually going out with Teacher Zou to buy some stuff. I’ll take some photos of crucian carp for you all.”
Chat: ?
Fu Wenze: ?
He asked, “Did I say I was making crucian carp tomorrow?”
Xie Xizhao looked at him with an innocent expression. “I want to drink crucian carp soup. Mine doesn’t taste good.”
Fu Wenze: “…”
He glanced at the dark circles under Xie Xizhao’s eyes and admitted defeat. “Fine.”
Only then did Xie Xizhao turn away, satisfied.
Then, he looked at the chat and laughed. “What do you mean by ‘Teacher Xiao Zhao tricks his way into free food by acting cute’? This is called making a reasonable request. Your Brother Wenze is an amazing cook—every meal is a win.”
“Who else cooks well? Let me think.”
“Me, I guess.” He answered cautiously. “I feel like my cooking is decent.”
[Great answer! Just don’t look at Brother Fu when you say it!]
[LMAO, that guilty little glance! It’s obvious that besides Brother Fu, none of you in The Phoenix can really cook. Hurry up and thank Brother Fu!]
[Ahhh, I’m so happy, who understands… Debuting is amazing. I never expected my bias to have such a lively and adorable personality. I feel like I can forgive the whole world right now QAQ.]
—That last comment summed up the feelings of all Xie Xizhao fans that night.
Xie Xizhao’s livestream wasn’t long. From the moment Fu Wenze entered to when he said goodnight to the viewers, only about twenty minutes had passed. But for his fans, those twenty minutes felt like a dream.
In the past, due to the way Super Rookie was edited, only his long-time fans who had followed him from the start truly understood his personality. To most casual viewers and newer fans, Xie Xizhao had seemed quiet and reserved.
His screen time in the main episodes was almost always fragmented—just a couple of brief sentences during team discussions, a few quick moments of guidance in the practice room, and a fleeting glimpse of him asleep in the dormitory highlights.
…So he just didn’t talk much.
The new fans accepted it.
After all, what they were primarily drawn to was Xie Xizhao’s skills—his looks were secondary.
Besides, looking back at reports from his past two fan meetings, most of them were positive. Coupled with his frequent activity on Weibo, fans figured that at the very least, his professionalism allowed him to handle all public appearances well.
For an idol, that was already enough.
But this livestream completely shattered their perception.
Xie Xizhao wasn’t quiet.
Not only was he not quiet—he was actually quite talkative.
Throughout the entire livestream, the young man, whose gentle voice was usually used for singing, kept chattering away, his energy off the charts.
He interacted with the chat, bantered with his teammate, and by the end, even pulled Fu Wenze into an impromptu jam session, earnestly showing the audience how the two of them usually created music together.
The CP fans were losing their minds, the group fans were ecstatic, and his solo stans were completely smitten.
Almost as soon as the livestream ended, someone opened a thread on the forum.
[Wait, how can an idol be this talented?]
1L OP: Since when do rookie idols have such refined skills, a strong work ethic, and an active presence? Guys, am I dreaming?
2L: OP, I’m with you.
3L: He’s so good… I can’t believe I used to buy into the anti-fans’ narrative that he was some cold and unapproachable senior (like, why does he even give off senior vibes when he’s literally a rookie, help). I never expected him to be this lively.
He’s ridiculously cute and ridiculously good at flirting—just exactly what a guy in his early twenties should be like.
Right now, I’m just looping the livestream over and over again…
4L: Tbh, all of Zhao’s “dark” headcanons are kinda fire.
A sadistic drill sergeant who trains people like he’s training dogs, a ruthless mastermind plotting to crush all his rivals, or a lonely demon king standing at the peak while everyone envies and resents him.
Sometimes, I genuinely can’t tell who’s an enemy and who’s an ally.
Anyway, I got into the fandom because of the dark headcanons.
5L: LMAO, and then reality hits—turns out he’s just a little cutie whining to his brother for crucian carp soup.
6L: AAAAA
He’s not actually soft and cutesy, though. He’s just really chill, and with people he’s close to—like his teammates and fans—he’s naturally gentle and easygoing. Makes you wanna squish him.
My biggest takeaway from today is that the damn show screwed us over. They didn’t even give him a single coherent clip. This livestream alone had him saying more words than the entire season combined.
I had no idea my bias actually talks a lot and has such a bright personality.
Damn the production team.
7L: He’s seriously so lively. Super adorable QAQ.
And the contrast is insane. That moment when Brother Fu entered with the camera, and Zhao turned to look—he was totally in work mode, cold and focused. Then the second he started talking to Brother Fu, the chemistry was off the charts. Hormone levels through the roof. Sexy as hell.
But the moment he switched out of work mode, he was all soft and gentle.
And that guilty little glance at Teacher Fu when he claimed he was good at cooking? TOO CUTE. I wanna squish him to pieces!!!
8L: No, seriously—how does he do it? I just wanna know how this man pulls it off.
Right now, he’s trending again. The hot search tag is #XieXizhao, a man at work. Dude really maximizes every single piece of footage and camera time…
At this point, I totally get why the production team tried to suppress him. A guy like this must’ve been a nightmare to cut down. They probably worked overtime just to find ways to edit him out. Thinking back to all the shady editing drama during the show, I can’t help but laugh.
9L: Are we not gonna talk about the whole group?
For the past few days, people kept debating whether The Phoenix’s team dynamic was genuine or fake—well, I think we can put that argument to rest now. If this is what you call a “plastic” group dynamic, then no idol group has ever been close.
Yeah, I know group stans in survival show fandoms usually only come out when the group disbands, but I swear this one is gonna have a huge group fanbase. Their chemistry is insane. It’s not just Xie Xizhao and Fu Wenze—even when you mix and match the members, every combo has something fun to offer.
And the inside jokes?? They’re nonstop. My face hurts from laughing.
Are they secretly a comedy troupe or what?
…
328L: In every sense, this was a legendary livestream. Seriously.
A barefaced visual king effortlessly outshining the world, a ridiculously talented creator with unspoken chemistry between him and his equally gifted friend, and an entire group bursting with synergy from start to finish…
I’ve watched plenty of group livestreams, but I’ve never seen a team’s first-ever stream go this smoothly.
Now I’m beyond excited for their debut album. With a lineup like this, as long as they put out a solid album, they’re bound to start strong and keep rising.
329L: +1 Ahhh, Shenghong Entertainment, open your damn eyes and go all in on them! If necessary, let my bias lead the way! He’s got what it takes! He really does!
—
“Are you sure you can handle it?”
The sun was shining brightly.
Ai Qingyuan and Xie Xizhao stood together in the glass-walled corridor, watching the birds in the trees.
It was winter, and almost all the leaves had fallen, leaving only bare branches. Small birds flitted among them, chirping as they hopped around energetically under the sunlight.
This was three days after the livestream.
On the day of the stream, The Phoenix had trended five times—three of those tags were about Xie Xizhao.
The day after, clips from the livestream were still circulating among marketing accounts chasing engagement. The Phoenix’s stream had become a short-term viral hit, with accounts scrambling to repost it.
And on the third day…
On the third day, The Phoenix was still gaining and solidifying their fanbase. Anticipation for their debut album was growing stronger by the hour.
Meanwhile, Xie Xizhao had finally wrapped up his work and submitted his materials to the planning team.
That day, Ai Qingyuan accompanied him to Shenghong.
At that moment, they were waiting for the team’s initial review.
For the team, it was just an initial evaluation. But for Xie Xizhao, it was the culmination of all his hard work over the past few days.
If it passed, any further revisions would be based on the new plan.
If it didn’t, he would take the new plan home and store it in his backup USB drive.
He no longer lived a life of constantly reloading and saving progress, but he still kept the habit of archiving his materials. Every spark of inspiration was neatly organized in his USB drive.
When Ai Qingyuan said that, Xie Xizhao tilted his head slightly.
With a smile, he said, “Didn’t I already let you hear the new demo? And weren’t you the one who said, ‘I have to be there to witness their shocked faces’?”
Ai Qingyuan looked up at the sky.
After a moment, he said, “You know I’ve never denied your talent.”
“You just want to surpass me,” Xie Xizhao responded smoothly.
He paused, then half-joked, “Maybe in fifty years. I might have to keep my youthful looks a bit longer, though.”
“Hey!” Ai Qingyuan let out an exasperated laugh.
After a brief silence, he said, “No, but seriously. You know what I mean. Signing with Shenghong… isn’t that a bit of a loss for you?”
It wasn’t until the ride over that he had carefully pieced together the underlying logic of the deal. He wasn’t sure if the current outcome was a result of negotiations or if there was something he wasn’t aware of.
But from the outside, bringing Xie Xizhao to Shenghong looked like a concession on his part.
Of course, in Ai Qingyuan’s eyes, Yaoxin Entertainment would have been a concession as well.
So what wouldn’t be a compromise?
Ai Qingyuan couldn’t come up with an answer.
After listening to the demo, Ai Qingyuan couldn’t shake the feeling that Xie Xizhao should be standing higher—no, even higher.
It had been over a month since the group formed, and Young Master Ai was only now realizing this.
Still, that was a significant improvement.
After all, if this were the old him, he probably wouldn’t have come to this realization even by the time the group disbanded.
Xie Xizhao, feeling rather gratified, dropped his teasing tone and reassured him seriously, “It’s really not that bad. After all, I was just a nobody. Expecting an amateur to soar to the top from the get-go isn’t very realistic.”
In terms of his full capabilities, yes, this was a compromise. But in terms of his current status—no resources, no connections—
He really could only take it one step at a time.
During the competition, he had leveraged others’ strengths. Now, he was taking shelter under a big tree.
His intention was to ease Ai Qingyuan’s unnecessary guilt over something that had nothing to do with him. But Ai Qingyuan, as if making some sort of firm decision, lifted his head and said solemnly, “Don’t worry.”
Xie Xizhao: “…Huh?”
Before their conversation could continue, the door opened.
Miao Haicheng stepped out.
Their eyes met, and Xie Xizhao was the first to smile. “Brother, why do you look so serious?”
“It’s incredible.” Miao Haicheng looked at him, a glimmer of light flashing in his eyes. His usual calm, effortlessly composed demeanor was nowhere to be found. Instead, excitement and exhilaration shone through.
“The initial review has passed,” he said. “I’ve already spoken to the company—your entire proposal has been accepted. Your name will be credited for everything: composition, lyrics, and arrangement.”
He patted Xie Xizhao’s shoulder and repeated himself, this time with even more conviction.
“It’s absolutely outstanding, Xizhao. This is the greatest, most exceptional debut work I’ve ever heard. You’re going to be the most brilliant genius in everyone’s eyes—I guarantee it.”
