Superstar Ch.97

Chapter 97: Stay Tuned

After saying those words, Miao Haicheng hurriedly left, probably because he still needed to discuss the details with upper management.

Once he was gone, Ai Qingyuan and Xie Xizhao looked toward the glass door. Inside, the team members were still gathered around the table, engaged in an intense discussion, their expressions filled with excitement.

In front of them was a large folder on a laptop. It contained not only a revised demo but also a structured breakdown of core concept ideas, recommended directions, and even detailed MV shooting plans and a full promotional strategy for each direction.

This was clearly not just a simple “revision,” as Xie Xizhao had casually put it.

This was the work of an entire team, completed by a single person.

This was why Xie Xizhao had been so busy these past days. And until he presented the final proposal, no one—except for Fu Wenze, who had a rough idea—had expected him to go to such lengths.

Ai Qingyuan didn’t want to recall how embarrassing his own reaction had been when he first saw the proposal. He simply said, “If you keep spoiling them like this, they’ll start expecting a paycheck.”

His tone carried a hint of injustice on Xie Xizhao’s behalf.

Xie Xizhao smiled and replied, “I’m not that capable.”

He was well aware that what he had written were just ideas.

In reality, during his previous tasks—whether as an idol, singer, or actor—he had had limited opportunities to truly engage in behind-the-scenes work. For example, when it came to MV shoots, he wasn’t entirely familiar with the specific operational process.

So, when it came to actual execution, professionals were still needed.

However…

That was just his personal perspective.

From others’ viewpoints, for a rookie idol, he had already done more than enough.

Xie Xizhao had truly achieved the goal of “providing a better solution” while also giving a proper response to Miao Haicheng, who had initially covered for him. Not only had he avoided creating extra trouble for the team, but he had actually lightened their burden.

With this, Xie Xizhao was fully accepted by Shenghong’s team responsible for The Phoenix.

No one questioned his talent or character anymore, nor did anyone feel uneasy about his special contract. And in the future, even when Shenghong and Xie Xizhao were no longer mutually dependent, this team would continue to quietly offer him as much support as they could.

Through the collision of ideas, many members of the team became close friends with Xie Xizhao—even the lead planner who had initially hesitated to give him creative freedom.

But that was a story for another time.

In the week after submitting his proposal, Xie Xizhao went to the company a few more times to help the planning team finalize certain details.

One week later, all the processes had been mapped out.

Everything proceeded in an orderly fashion.

Song production, choreography, recording, MV filming—each simple term on the schedule represented the collective effort and dedication of countless people.

—

Xie Xizhao ultimately didn’t participate much in the choreography process.

Shenghong had hired a highly renowned choreographer, someone Xie Xizhao had heard of before.

This choreographer was known for having a distinct creative vision, and their recent works had received widespread acclaim.

And sure enough, the final choreography was intricate and visually stunning, making for a highly engaging performance.

However, there was a small incident in the midst of it all.

Before starting the choreography, the choreographer needed to listen to the song. At that time, The Phoenix members hadn’t recorded their parts yet, so he listened to Xie Xizhao’s solo version of the full track.

The moment he finished listening, he immediately requested to meet the talented idol with a voice that was “so natural and divine it sounded like a gift from the heavens.”

The staff, their mouths twitching, passed the message to Miao Haicheng, who then asked Xie Xizhao if he was willing to meet.

Xie Xizhao thought about it and felt that it didn’t really matter either way.

So, he went.

The result? The two of them hit it off instantly. That very day, the choreographer took to Twitter and publicly praised Xie Xizhao by name.

Comments: ?

Shenghong: ??

And so…

By the next day, the entire world knew that not only was this renowned choreographer in charge of The Phoenix’s title track choreography, but he had also “privately connected” with the rookie idol.

The identity of the choreographer didn’t have much impact on the overall project, so it wasn’t exactly a leak.

Although the publicity came unexpectedly early, everyone quickly adjusted and got back to their respective duties. The Phoenix’s official account swiftly reposted the post, expressing gratitude, while the comments were mostly polite messages from fans thanking him for his work and support.

However, in an unnoticed corner of the internet, fans who had been eagerly waiting for new content since the live stream had a collective meltdown.

[Why? WHY can you meet Xizhao while I can’t? Stop showing off! AHHHHH!]

[Since you’re handling the choreography, I feel at ease… BUT CAN YOU STOP FLEXING? A poor little girl is suffering here. :)]

[? What do you mean by “the most handsome among the talented, and the most talented among the handsome—truly captivating”? It’s 8012, I REFUSE to let you use such cheap flirting tactics on my fave. And don’t think using English will stop us from understanding!]

[You industry people!! One after another! Baby Xizhao, take care of yourself out there T.T]

Just as the buzz hadn’t died down, someone decided to stir the pot even further.

The next evening, after a long day of filming, Yan Zicheng took a break and scrolled through the trending promotional topics. He casually screenshotted the last fan comment and tagged Xie Xizhao.

[@The Phoenix-Xie XizhaoV Passing on a message from your fans—did you hear them? Boys need to protect themselves when they go out too~ [smirk]]

Xie Xizhao had been dancing all day, and as soon as he got back, Miao Haicheng urged him to go online and reply.

Thinking it was something important, he logged in—only to be greeted by an overly energetic, innuendo-laden message from a grown man.

After a brief silence, he responded in the comments:

[Thank you, Teacher Yan. I wore an extra warm jacket today. [🌹]]

By deliberately twisting the original implication into a literal interpretation of physical protection, he effectively pacified the fans. Yan Zicheng, on the other hand, was thoroughly amused.

He replied: [You’re welcome [🌹]]

Then, he immediately sent a private WeChat message:

[Hello, handsome~ When’s your schedule freeing up? I can’t take it anymore. The people I’ve been dealing with lately are absolute demons. I desperately need your comfort. [shy][shy]]

Miao Haicheng’s expression darkened as he read the message.

Xie Xizhao helpfully reminded him, “Uh… I think he means a photoshoot.”

Miao Haicheng: “…Oh.”

That’s fine, then.

He added, “Their team did send an invitation, but the company is still considering a few magazine options. Your debut cover needs to be chosen carefully.”

Xie Xizhao nodded. “Got it.”

Of course, Xie Xizhao wasn’t so oblivious that he couldn’t tell Yan Zicheng was just joking around. Yan Zicheng had no say in management’s decisions—just like he himself had no control over the company’s choices. But he did genuinely appreciate him.

Xie Xizhao responded politely, and Yan Zicheng expressed his understanding.

Then, Yan Zicheng asked, “Busy?”

Xie Xizhao sighed and replied, “So busy I wish I could turn into a vegetative state and go back to the hospital.”

Yan Zicheng: Ho!

—

The rejection was real, and so was the lack of free time.

Most of his schedule was packed with various types of filming—teaser photos, behind-the-scenes footage, and the ongoing group reality show.

When there wasn’t a shoot, it was all about dance and vocal practice.

Shenghong had hired professional dance and vocal coaches, so their daily routine was structured: classes in the morning, self-practice in the afternoon, and, if necessary, additional training at night. Lately, they had all been practicing together as a full group.

This was when the role of the leader became evident.

Zou Yi was the one planning all the training schedules.

Unlike Xie Xizhao, he wasn’t particularly gifted or naturally quick-witted, but his years of diligent training had given him a solid foundation, allowing him to pick up new skills efficiently. He quickly mastered both the vocal and dance portions of their performances.

Once he had practiced enough himself, he started helping the others fine-tune their details.

Out of everyone, Xie Xizhao was the least of a concern. The others had their strengths and weaknesses, but thankfully, everyone took their training seriously. The schedule posted in the practice room was rarely followed exactly—

Because almost every night, they ended up practicing together until midnight.

The hard work was real, but so was the joy.

For example, during vocal lessons, everyone loved joking about the time Ai Qingyuan and Xie Xizhao had a vocal standoff during the debut stage. Ai Qingyuan, though always getting riled up about it, still found it funny himself.

He earnestly defended, “No, but seriously, at the time, I really thought he was putting on a show.”

Xie Xizhao shot back, “Thanks for the invite, same here.”

Ai Qingyuan immediately threw his sheet music at him.

—

Then there was Fu Wenze and Yun Pan—neither of whom had any dance background, making it difficult for them to keep up. So, they established a one-on-one mentoring system: Zou Yi was the overall supervisor, Xie Xizhao was assigned to Yun Pan, and Ai Qingyuan was assigned to Fu Wenze.

Ai Qingyuan: ?

Fu Wenze: ??

Zou Yi, feeling their stares, silently turned to look at Xie Xizhao.

Xie Xizhao simply said, “My idea.”

Then he explained, “Based on experience, your type of relationship is very conducive to rapid skill improvement.”

In short, mutual provocation.

And so, the practice room was split into two contrasting scenes—on one side, a peaceful and harmonious Xie Xizhao and Yun Pan; on the other, absolute chaos.

Every day, as Shenghong’s staff passed by the practice room, they could hear their company’s young master furiously yelling:

“Fu Wenze, are you a block of wood or a malfunctioning robot?! It’s a 90° turn, not 180°! And why—WHY—can’t your hands and feet move separately?!”

As predicted, the results were remarkable.

Fueled by their mutual irritation and desperate desire to escape this agonizing practice, Fu Wenze’s dance skills improved at an astonishing rate—even faster than Zou Yi had expected.

Yun Pan: “…”

Though Xie Xizhao was his mentor, his life wasn’t much easier either.

His Brother Xie Xizhao was very gentle—meaning he would gently push him to practice over and over again until he reached the standard.

As for trying to slack off and get away with it?

Not an option.

At 18, soon to be 19, The Phoenix’s youngest member had already fully experienced the relentless grind of the adult world. Under the watchful eyes of his brothers, he had no choice but to muster up his energy and stay focused.

And every week, the one thing Yun Pan looked forward to the most was their one day off.

Not because he wanted to rest, but because on that day, Fu Wenze and Xie Xizhao would cook together.

The two had developed a solid understanding—not just in creative work but also in culinary creativity. Fu Wenze was the head chef, Xie Xizhao assisted, and the rest… the rest were just hungry spectators waiting to be fed.

It was a rare moment for everyone to relax.

Sometimes, family members would drop by with food and drinks. Fu Wenze’s younger brother had even visited before. But on the days when no one else came, the group would simply stay in and hibernate.

Most of the time, that meant sleeping. Occasionally, it meant gaming.

Either single-player games or whatever mobile game was trending at the moment.

When Ai Qingyuan finally reached Level 29 in his single-player game, The Phoenix members received their official notice—

It was time to start recording and filming the MV.

At the same time, The Phoenix’s official Weibo account slowly came online again.

True to its signature cool and aloof style since its very first post, The Phoenix’s official Weibo account maintained the same pretentious aura that all major companies seemed to possess.

Once again, the social media team completely ignored the fans’ desperate pleas and dramatic outcries. Just like countless times before, they only logged in for a few minutes—long enough to schedule a timed post—before disappearing into the void.

At exactly 6 PM, fans refreshed their feeds.

A new post appeared:

The Phoenix V:

The 1st Album: [Rift]

20XX/02/14 8PM

Stay tuned.

Attached to the post was a promotional image—

A single, massive, pristine white wing, gleaming under golden sunlight.

Nestled within the soft feathers was an eye, shimmering like glass, radiant and piercing.

<< _ >>

**TN

The Phoenix V – V means verified