Famous! Ch.240.1

Chapter 240.1: Ni Xiuzhu

From “I’m Tired of Lu Xu” to the recent discussions surrounding the Contention Awards, Lu Xu had read everything carefully.

He came to a conclusion—although some people were indeed tired of him, it was evident that far more people liked him.

As an actor, it was nearly impossible to be loved by everyone, but as long as he had fans supporting him, Lu Xu could keep going.

He generally didn’t care too much about others’ opinions of him—unless they were particularly excessive.

Lu Xu was well aware that the root of all this wasn’t anything else but this year’s Contention Awards nominations.

It was worth mentioning that the Golden Flame Awards had announced their nomination list ahead of the Contention Awards this year.

In previous years, the timing of the nominations and award ceremonies for the three major awards had become a tradition—the Contention Awards came first, followed by the Golden Flame Awards and the Critics’ Choice Awards.

The Golden Flame Awards had deliberately changed their schedule to announce the nominations earlier, simply to attract more attention. At the very least, as the awards season heated up, audiences wouldn’t focus solely on the Contention Awards.

But reality proved that despite the Golden Flame Awards’ struggle, its efforts had very limited effect. This year, The Sovereign Descends the World had only submitted entries for the Contention Awards and the Critics’ Choice Awards, and the same was true for A Season of Good Rain, starring Li Yan.

The battle between top-tier male actors would only unfold at this year’s Contention Awards ceremony and had nothing to do with the Golden Flame Awards.

In private, Lu Xu had asked Li Yan why their production team hadn’t submitted for this year’s Golden Flame Awards.

It was well known that Lu Xu had a grudge against the Golden Flame Awards, but as far as he knew, Li Yan had no such feud with them.

“Do I need a reason not to submit?” Li Yan had countered.

“Fair enough.”

The marketing accounts could never have imagined that Lu Xu and Li Yan—whom they had confidently claimed had fallen out—were still chatting privately.

Of course, neither of them posted any photos to “dispel the rumors of discord.” Since the marketing accounts had already decided that their relationship was strained, no amount of evidence would convince them otherwise. Instead, they would just assume both sides were trying to cover up a lie.

…

After this year’s Contention Awards nominations were announced, Lu Xu was the first to be bombarded with criticism. But Li Yan didn’t fare much better—one particular marketing account laid out data and various arguments to “prove” that Li Yan, who had risen to fame through commercial blockbusters, wasn’t qualified to compete for the Contention Awards.

While Lu Xu was dismissed as tiresome, Li Yan faced even harsher criticism. Some even said that at least Lu Xu had three Best Actor trophies to his name, while Li Yan had gained nothing after all these years—shouldn’t he feel ashamed?

Reading those words made Lu Xu’s blood boil. He could only marvel at Li Yan’s patience. If it had been him in that position, he wouldn’t have needed anyone to provoke him—he would have exploded on his own.

After attending so many award ceremonies over the years, Lu Xu had learned a thing or two. Just like the cutthroat battles between productions during peak release seasons, award season was its own kind of brutal warfare. The struggle happened quietly, but unless one was directly involved, they wouldn’t truly understand the intensity.

Lu Xu and Li Yan were the most talked-about actors of this award season, making them the most obvious targets. Keeping an eye on them guaranteed attention.

Li Yan simply said he was used to it.

“Whenever I had a new movie release, as long as it did well at the box office, people would start chasing me down, asking about my expectations for winning awards.” Li Yan gave a bitter smile. “The more you lack something, the more people will target that weakness and press you about it.”

Lu Xu: “…”

He had also been called a “pretty boy” in the past, and some people had even hounded him, asking if he had any interest in playing a macho action hero.

This year, discussions surrounding Lu Xu and Li Yan were all-encompassing. Even though there were five nominees, the current public discourse made it seem like the award could only go to either Li Yan or Lu Xu, as if the other three had no chance at all.

But both of them knew that the more heated the debate, the more likely the Contention Awards committee would try to avoid any bias.

Whoever had sparked this media frenzy was clearly very shrewd, and their eagerness to win the award far exceeded expectations.

At this point, Lu Xu and Li Yan’s battle had escalated into a direct comparison of achievements. In terms of awards, Lu Xu had the upper hand; in terms of box office performance, Li Yan was the clear winner.

Given their level of stardom, comparing fashion influence or commercial endorsements wasn’t particularly meaningful—but that didn’t stop netizens from making comparison charts anyway.

Feeling the pressure, both Lu Xu and Li Yan sighed, “Should I take on a few more brand deals just to make the chart look better?”

Their managers responded dryly, “…Why not just flex your bank balance instead?”

Lu Xu & Li Yan: “…”

They chose to give up on the pointless competition.

There was no real winner or loser in these comparisons, and even if one of them did come out on top, there would be no actual reward.

…

For this year’s Contention Award for Best Actor, aside from Lu Xu and Li Yan, the nominees included Xie Zejie for Still, Ni Xiuzhu for By the River, and Shi Tianhao for The Wellness Manual.

While Lu Xu and Li Yan were dragged through endless media rounds before the ceremony, the other three nominees remained notably calm, almost as if they didn’t exist in the discussion.

The Best Actor nomination list this year was rather surprising—aside from Lu Xu, none of the other nominees had ever received a Contention Awards nomination before.

Not just for Best Actor—even the Best Supporting Actor category lacked any previous nominees.

Xu Wen and Li Yan’s manager were the first to rule out Shi Tianhao. Just from the title The Wellness Manual, it was obvious that Shi Tianhao was already quite old—so much so that he struggled with using a smartphone.

The film The Wellness Manual depicted the challenges of elderly care in modern society, with Shi Tianhao playing an elderly man who caused endless chaos for his family, making their lives a constant struggle.

For someone like him, winning the Golden Flame Awards for Best Actor wasn’t a pressing concern. He only took on a film every few years and rarely made public appearances.

On the other hand, Xie Zejie and Ni Xiuzhu were both mid-career actors who had only recently gained recognition in the film industry, each backed by a powerful talent agency.

Lu Xu had already won three trophies, yet he was still seen as a strong contender because neither Xie Zejie nor Ni Xiuzhu had fully convinced the public with their performances.

It could be said that the two of them made it onto the nomination list largely due to the maneuvering of their agencies behind the scenes.

Under the article criticizing Lu Xu for being “tiring,” some users who closely followed the Contention Awards pointed to Xie and Ni as examples, arguing that “now is definitely not the time to be tired of Lu Xu.”

Xie Zejie had mostly starred in serious dramas over the past few years. He was relatively low-profile and had steadily worked his way up from minor roles.

Ni Xiuzhu, on the other hand… had earned himself a nickname on the internet: “The Opportunist.”

Whichever director was popular, he collaborated with them. Whichever actor was trending, he found a way to work alongside them.

Beyond that, more than half of the films he appeared in had sparked controversy over him stealing the spotlight. For instance, even if the official lead actor of a film was A, Ni Xiuzhu would often end up with more screen time than the protagonist.

Each year, he managed to appear in at least four of the top ten box office films.

Even if he wasn’t responsible for carrying the box office, he always secured a solid third-billed role, consistently delivering standout moments in every film he participated in.

It was safe to say that the lead actors’ fans in these films all found Ni Xiuzhu incredibly annoying. His nickname, “The Opportunist,” had spread throughout the industry, yet it never stopped him from advancing smoothly, securing one great opportunity after another.

For Ni Xiuzhu, winning a Contention Award was particularly important—it was his chance to finally shake off the long-standing controversies surrounding him.

However, his biggest disadvantage was also glaringly obvious—he lacked public support.

If any of the three heavyweights—Lu Xu, Li Yan, or Shi Tianhao—were to lose, and the award went to Ni Xiuzhu instead, there would undoubtedly be an uproar.

Audiences genuinely disliked him.

But then again, public hatred had never managed to drive him out of the film industry. Despite the overwhelming criticism, he continued to linger in front of audiences, and in fact, he only seemed to be getting more relentless.

In short, after this year’s nominations were announced, industry insiders speculated that the final results of the Contention Awards might turn out to be a complete spectacle.

…

As for who was behind the constant hype around Lu Xu and Li Yan, Xu Wen had a pretty good idea. He just wasn’t completely certain yet.

In truth, Lu Xu himself didn’t have high expectations for winning this year. After all, he had already won so many awards—he didn’t own the Contention Awards, so it wasn’t like they could hand it to him every time.

However, after all the commotion online, Lu Xu deliberately started acting more invested in the award.

Yes, it was intentional.

He began actively attending Contention Award-related cocktail parties, participating in film screenings, and frequently interacting with the jury members.

And to be fair, he was more qualified than anyone to do so.

Lu Xu was the most-awarded Best Actor in the history of the Contention Awards. He had even served as a jury member before. If he hadn’t been nominated this year, him vying for the position of jury president wouldn’t have been surprising either.

It was rare for Lu Xu to be this proactive—back when Clay Man was nominated, he had almost no direct interaction with the judges at all.

Naturally, Lu Xu got called out.

A certain nominee’s agent took to Weibo and made a vague remark, implying that [such shameless behavior will definitely be punished.]

Xu Wen, for once, spoke up: [Isn’t it completely normal for a former jury member to communicate with the current jury?]

His response was relatively calm, but compared to Ni Xiuzhu’s manager’s bizarre outburst, netizens were left speechless, reacting with a flood of ellipses.

[Shameless behavior… Who exactly is that referring to?]

[??? I thought someone had finally reflected on their actions and realized how disgraceful their behavior was. Turns out it’s just the thief crying ‘thief’ again?]

[I still haven’t forgotten how he played the husband in The Writer and turned the female lead—who originally took her own life for her ideals—into a woman who committed s**cide for her husband. I’ll never forgive that.]

[Which is why I never watched The Writer. The moment I saw his name, I knew something bad was going to happen. Got burned once before—now I have PTSD.]

[The Writer too??? Spring Dream was already a disaster—the original strong female lead got turned into a male-centric story. I will resent that forever. This guy is a repeat offender, and now he has the audacity to call someone else shameless? Honestly, I don’t think there’s a single actor in the entire industry with a worse reputation than him.]

[I just want to see which blind jury member dares to vote for him as Best Actor!!! Absolutely unacceptable!!!]

Ni Xiuzhu’s manager quietly deleted the original Weibo post and replaced it with a vague explanation, claiming that their earlier post was just “a passing thought about a minor issue” and was “never directed at anyone in particular.”

[Please, fellow colleagues, don’t overreact.]

That only fueled the backlash.

[So first you accuse others of being shameless, then when people respond, you say they’re overreacting? This guy is never wrong, huh?]

[Who’s overreacting? Weren’t you the one who overreacted first?]

[The arrogance is unbearable! His achievements don’t even come close to Lu Xu’s, yet his ego is ten times bigger!]

Lu Xu’s fans couldn’t help but sigh—every time another figure like Ni Xiuzhu appeared in the entertainment industry, their love for Lu Xu only deepened.

In the end, Ni Xiuzhu’s manager never stepped forward to apologize. For Ni Xiuzhu, this was a minor issue at best. He had caused far bigger controversies in the past by snatching roles, yet his collaborators had always tolerated him.

For him and his agency, the audience’s opinions never mattered. He didn’t rely on public favor to land roles. Even if the audience resented the way he inserted himself into projects or how effortlessly he secured a nomination for the Contention Award, there was nothing they could do about it.

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