Superstar Ch.172

Chapter 172: TP Group Variety Show (1) (Extra 6)

Xie Xizhao received the variety show invitation at just the right time — not too early, not too late — on the second day after his vacation ended.

He wasn’t sure whether Qu Hengyang really had a film project lined up for him, but the director of this variety show definitely had an agenda. The invitation was especially flattering, saying the filming time and location could be completely up to him. It was obvious the director was determined to ride the wave of hype surrounding the full TP group’s variety show reunion.

The message from the director came right after one from Fu Wenze, which Xie Xizhao hadn’t replied to yet.

Fu Wenze: [I fed the cat. I’m heading out.]

Xie Xizhao replied: [Wait up, I’m almost home. Call your brother over and let’s have dinner together.]

Fu Wenze answered: [Okay.]

By the time Xie Xizhao got home, the aroma of food was already drifting out from the door crack. A tall, slim guy was sitting neatly on the sofa with a cat in his arms, watching TV. When he saw Xie Xizhao come in, his eyes lit up and he called out, “Brother Xizhao.” The cat on his knees also looked up in confusion, both pairs of eyes wide and watery.

The scene was too wholesome — Xie Xizhao couldn’t help ruffling both of their heads before turning toward the kitchen.

Don’t ask why he invited people over for dinner but still had them cook — teammates are meant to be exploited, that’s just how it is.

Still, Xie Xizhao tried to feign some politeness. He stuck his head into the kitchen and asked,

“Brother, need a hand?”

Fu Wenze didn’t even turn around, his voice lazy: “Come say that again after you change out of your designer outfit. That’ll sound a little more sincere.”

Xie Xizhao just laughed and went upstairs to change and take a shower.

By the time he came back down, a simple but hearty three dishes and one soup were already laid out on the table.

The fact that they bought houses next to each other was kind of a coincidence.

Fu Wenze had wanted to move his family into a new environment. Money wasn’t a problem anymore, but since he was a celebrity and valued privacy, the options were pretty limited.

At that time, Xie Xizhao had just wrapped up filming and was relatively free, so he helped Fu Wenze house hunt. They looked at several places but couldn’t find one they liked. One day, when Xie Xizhao casually asked the property manager back home, he found out that the standalone house right across from his own still hadn’t been sold.

The two of them went to check it out a few times. The lighting and layout were great, so in the end, Fu Wenze bought it.

They kept this under wraps for a long time — it only recently started to show.

The culprit? Cat fur.

Fu Wenze said gloomily, “Your cat sheds way too much.”

His tone was full of disdain. Under the table, the well-behaved little cat had no idea she was being complained about. She was still trying to rub up against her temporary owner’s leg.

Xie Xizhao wasn’t having it. He defended his “daughter”: “That’s what you get for always holding her.”

Fu Wenze had nothing to say to that.

After dinner, Xie Xizhao was on dish duty. Fu Wenze leaned against the kitchen doorway playing on his phone and casually asked,

“Did you hear about the variety show?”

“Yeah,” Xie Xizhao replied.

“You going?” Fu Wenze asked, sounding exactly like a grade-schooler asking if someone wants to go to the bathroom together.

“Yeah, I’m going.” Xie Xizhao answered straightforwardly. “It’s just for fun anyway.”

Fu Wenze didn’t say anything else and left — taking his younger brother with him.

A little while later, Xie Xizhao’s phone started blowing up with notifications. He opened the pinned group chat of the five of them and saw that he’d been spam-mentioned like crazy. Scrolling up, he found a row of identical messages:

[If Emperor Xie goes, I’ll go. @Zhaobaby, Emperor Xie, say something!]

Emperor Xie… Xie Xizhao nearly choked laughing.

He almost drowned on his water, coughing until his face turned red. Just as he finally recovered and was about to reply saying he’d go, Fu Wenze sent a message:

[He just told me he’s going.]

Xiao Ai: [We know you two live together. Stop showing off and scram.]

Fu Wenze: […If you’re sick, get help.]

And just like that, the two of them started bickering over a single sentence.

Of course he was going. No doubt about it.

Actually, contrary to what many fans thought, the members of TP stayed in touch far more than people imagined. With how advanced communication is nowadays, if they wanted to chat, all they had to do was open a message app. Not to mention, they were all in the entertainment industry — they had a ton of shared topics.

Usually, Ai Qingyuan was the one who talked the most nonsense. The others would reply if they saw it, and if they didn’t, he’d just move on to the next topic without missing a beat. The second most talkative was Zou Yi, but his messages were usually weather forecasts or safety alerts. If anyone had a tricky event or schedule coming up, and he knew about it, he’d give a heads-up.

It wasn’t that they didn’t want to show they were close publicly.

But on one hand, most of what they talked about couldn’t really be shared. At best, they could post a few photos when they got together for meals or hung out. Even then, just posting a group photo required carefully wording the caption — if it was too polite, it felt fake even to themselves; if it wasn’t polite enough, fans would start arguing in the comments.

The truth was, this kind of relationship — closer than friends but without being family — was awkward for public figures. There were just too many things to consider. They’d all sighed about it at some point, thinking maybe it’d be easier to just act like casual colleagues.

But that was just talk. In the end, this group of heartless guys settled on the simplest option: if it’s so much trouble, just don’t post anything. They were seeing each other in person anyway. Behind-the-scenes footage, chance encounters — people who wanted to know would always find out.

Of course, being heartless didn’t mean they avoided suspicion on purpose. The variety show director who invited them clearly understood them well — he managed to catch the rare window when several of them were free. There were still one or two minor schedule conflicts, but no one brought it up. Everyone quietly adjusted on their own.

And so, on a bright and sunny morning, the long-awaited reunion variety show began filming.

Despite the production team’s overly eager attitude, Toward the Light was actually one of the most popular slow-paced variety shows at the moment.

The show itself wasn’t particularly thrilling or dramatic. Its charm was in its simplicity — it was all about the guests spending two days and one night living a relaxed, rural life in the countryside or mountains. For both the guests and the fans, it felt like a healing, rejuvenating getaway.

Since it was only two days, Xie Xizhao didn’t bring Candy Corn.

Before leaving for the shoot, he made sure the cat had enough food and water, and also called the property management to give them a heads-up. But when he was about to head out, the little golden furball still came trotting after him to the front door, big watery eyes fixed on him, not letting him leave.

The production crew laughed, “Teacher Xie, your kid’s really clingy, huh?”

“Oh, totally,” Xie Xizhao sighed with a smile. “She’s so clingy. Every time I leave, it’s a whole thing.”

Every time he joined a production, he’d bring a suitcase. Over time, the little cat had come to recognize the sound of the suitcase wheels. She knew he was leaving. So just when he’d reach the door and turn around, he’d see the golden fluffball sitting pitifully on top of his suitcase, letting out soft little meows. It always gave him this unshakable pang of guilt.

Thankfully, this time he wouldn’t be gone long. After some coaxing, the staff finally managed to lure the cat back into the house.

Just as Xie Xizhao stepped outside with the director’s team, he ran into Fu Wenze — coming out of his own house.

The two filming crews stared at each other in silence. Even though the staff had been briefed about the two living next door, seeing it with their own eyes was still pretty shocking. The two guys themselves, however, were totally unfazed — exchanged a few casual greetings, and each got into their car like nothing happened.

When they arrived at the filming location and opened the car door, they were greeted by a field of golden sunlight.

The spot they were filming at wasn’t exactly near, but it wasn’t too far either — a rural village in the suburbs of A City. The old architecture in the village had been well-preserved and wasn’t overly commercialized.

The moment Xie Xizhao stepped out of the car, he caught the sweet scent of fresh air in the breeze.

Fu Wenze also took a deep breath beside him, then asked, “You like running off to places like this too, huh?”

Toward the Light didn’t have a fixed plot — it was all about capturing the everyday. All kinds of everyday moments. Filming had started the moment they got out of the car, and the cameras kept rolling as they walked.

Since Fu Wenze asked, Xie Xizhao didn’t deny it. He smiled and said, “Yeah.”

“When there are too many people around, I start to feel dizzy — especially in narrow alleys. It feels really cramped.” He was being honest. “And I don’t really like buying souvenirs either.”

What he did like was taking photos, and using his eyes to capture the places he passed through.

What he meant was that he preferred quieter places when traveling. But Fu Wenze, ever the showman, smoothly twisted his words for comedic effect: “Wow, must’ve been tough for you — living with us annoying humans all these years.”

Xie Xizhao: “…”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” he replied with a forced smile. “Especially when someone just had to move in next door after the group disbanded. Annoying as hell.”

The production crew let out a collective “Yooo~”, and even Fu Wenze couldn’t help the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The previous issue about the cat hair — and by extension, their living situation — was subtly and humorously addressed right there. The two continued chatting as they walked, and by the time they reached the end of the path, Xie Xizhao spotted a familiar figure.

Being one of the hottest variety shows, Toward the Light obviously had a top-tier cast.

The production team aimed for both popularity and quality, inviting three high-profile guests. One was the veteran actress and film queen Yu Qingjun, who would serve as the stabilizing presence. Another was Dou Fei, a rising young actor in the middle tier. And the last was a young idol — Fang Qingyi, an active member of Yun Pan’s group.

Xie Xizhao wasn’t very familiar with Yu Qingjun or Fang Qingyi. But he had a strong connection with Dou Fei. Back when he made his career shift, his first serious drama was Seeking Immortality, and the male lead of that show had been none other than Dou Fei.

Over the past couple of years, Dou Fei had built quite the résumé for himself. Not only did he win the Stellar Best Actor award shortly after Xie Xizhao, he was also nominated twice for Best Actor and once for Best Supporting Actor.

Of course, compared to Xie Xizhao, it still didn’t quite measure up. The two were very much from the same generation, and because of that, Dou Fei had often been mocked and compared unfavorably.

Xie Xizhao and Dou Fei rarely interacted publicly. The guests had been split into three groups, and the one picking them up was none other than Dou Fei himself — the show’s attempt to stir up drama was blatant.

Too bad they were aiming their drama at the wrong people. The two didn’t bother to put on any kind of subtle “still waters run deep” performance. Dou Fei came right up and gave Xie Xizhao a solid hug, grinning widely.

“Xizhao! Long time no see!”

And it really had been a long time.

Xie Xizhao hadn’t seen Dou Fei in ages. The last time they “interacted” was when he saw a post in Dou Fei’s Moments showing he was filming a big production. Xie Xizhao had liked the post and commented, “Looks like you’re getting roasted out there.”

Dou Fei replied with a crying emoji, and that was it.

Looking at him now — Dou Fei was visibly tanned, and noticeably thinner. But his eyes were still as warm and clear as ever.

Xie Xizhao smiled back, “Long time no see.”

Then he gestured to the person beside him, “This is Fu Wenze — my teammate. Also my neighbor.”

He said “my teammate” so naturally. Dou Fei had originally intended avoid this point for him, but was surprised to hear this. Still, he quickly recovered and smiled, “Nice to meet you. I’m Dou Fei.”

Fu Wenze gave him a quick, cool handshake — all aloofness and attitude.

That cool, rarefied energy stayed with him all the way through their formal introductions. But it wasn’t an act — Fu Wenze just wasn’t the type to chat with strangers. Xie Xizhao knew this about him, but Dou Fei felt a bit unsure.

That uncertainty lasted until the warm-up games began. Dou Fei watched, wide-eyed, as Fu Wenze moved like lightning and caught a slippery, wriggling fish with his bare hands. Only then did he fully believe Xie Xizhao’s words: “He’s just slow to warm up, not faking it.”

The fish was supposed to be their lunch bonus — but whether that bonus actually ended up on their plates was another matter entirely. “Towards the Light” was a show where everything had to be earned by the cast themselves.

Dou Fei tried probing, “You two?”

Xie Xizhao replied, “Both of us can cook.”

He thought for a moment, then added, “Should be pretty good, actually.”

Fu Wenze was a bit better than him — his skills were almost on par with a professional chef. Xie Xizhao specialized in quick meals; with their packed schedules, they rarely had time for elaborate cooking.

But even “quick meals” from them were genuinely delicious.

Hearing this, Dou Fei visibly relaxed, and sincerely complimented, “Boy bands these days are seriously impressive.”

“No choice,” Xie Xizhao said with a smile. “Someone’s really picky.”

As the words left his mouth, the aforementioned picky person appeared — sunglasses, trench coat, full-on cold and aloof vibes.

Ai Qingyuan had been assigned to a group on his own. The person greeting him was none other than the award-winning actress Yu Qingjun. He was still under Shenghong Entertainment, and had already released his second solo album. He’d also won several major awards. More importantly, he now held a sizable share in Shenghong — practically a co-owner. People even called him “President Ai.” As a result, the show’s crew treated him with extra care.

Xie Xizhao had vaguely heard about this, but had never been able to imagine what Ai Qingyuan looked like in “boss mode.”

Well, now he could. The aura was definitely there — enough to intimidate anyone.

Dou Fei let out a low whistle. Meanwhile, Xie Xizhao and Fu Wenze were whispering conspiratorially on the side.

“Hey, I feel like he’s acting more pretentious than you now.”

Fu Wenze: “…”

The production crew who accidentally overheard: “…”

Fu Wenze silently glanced at Xie Xizhao, while over on the other side, Ai Qingyuan (completely unaware) turned to look their way — his expression subtly shifting, as if playing out an entire inner monologue.

Snark aside, it had been a long time since Xie Xizhao had seen him.

He completely ignored the awkwardness and shock on Ai Qingyuan’s face, and pulled Fu Wenze along to give him a big bear hug.

Then he turned to Dou Fei and introduced him, “The main culprit behind Wenze and my improved cooking skills.”

Ai Qingyuan: “…”

He didn’t last even a second before breaking character. “Xie Xizhao! I’ve told you I’m not picky, can you stop saying that in public?!”

Not far away, Yun Pan and Zou Yi both fell silent at the exact same time when they heard that outburst.

“Nice weather today, huh, brother?” Yun Pan offered innocently.

Zou Yi tried to hold in his laughter, and added, “Mm.”

The younger guy walking ahead of them had been startled at first. But seeing how the two reacted like it was completely normal, he closed his mouth again.

Then Yun Pan glanced at him, paused for two seconds, and offered kindly, “Brother Qingyuan’s just like that. He snaps easily, but he’s not actually mad.”

“Ah, I see.” The younger guy — Fang Qingyi, a current teammate of Yun Pan — snapped out of it and smiled. “Captain, we’re here.”

As they spoke, the group arrived at the lodging — also the source of that earlier shouting.

At this point, the three MCs and the five members of TP were all finally gathered together.

When everyone sat down in the courtyard, even the production crew couldn’t help but feel a rare sense of nostalgia, like something out of another lifetime.

To be honest, the crew had been a bit worried at first.

There’d been no shortage of gossip online about TP’s relationships. And since everyone worked in the industry, they could guess — idol groups formed through survival shows often came with tangled behind-the-scenes interests. It wasn’t hard to imagine how complicated things could get.

Especially considering Shenghong and Xie Xizhao — they’d practically torn each other apart in public.

Given that, the idea of Ai Qingyuan and Xie Xizhao being in the same space was bound to feel awkward.

Of course, controversy also brings attention — so the production team boldly went ahead with it.

What surprised all the staff was that TP’s relationship actually seemed even better than they had imagined.

From the moment filming started in the fields, every time Xie Xizhao interacted with someone, the crew’s hearts would skip a beat. Fu Wenze was one thing, but Xie Xizhao’s words were often… unexpectedly blunt.

The director found it odd — in his memory, whenever Xie Xizhao appeared solo on variety shows, he was always poised and composed, but never this lively. It was the assistant director who suddenly hit the nail on the head:

“Brother Xiao Zhao really knows how to set the vibe,” he said.

And then the director understood.

Among all the members of TP, Xie Xizhao wasn’t the oldest, but he was definitely the biggest star.

No matter how close the TP members were, they were surely busy with their own schedules and rarely got to see each other. If Xie Xizhao took the lead and set the mood, everyone else would naturally relax a lot more. Plus, only if he took the initiative to cue others would it not be seen by fans as someone trying to ride his popularity during the broadcast.

The theory turned out to be correct — but even then, the speed at which the group loosened up was faster than the production team expected.

And sure enough, once the guests really got talking, Xie Xizhao gradually stopped taking the lead in conversations.

After chatting for a while in the courtyard, it was time to start preparing lunch.

Usually, the guests were the ones in charge of cooking, and the original plan was to decide with a dice roll. But when the crew suggested it, the entire TP group unanimously objected — Xie Xizhao sat innocently in the middle, looking completely innocent… just like the little dice in his pocket that was itching to be used.

In the end, Fu Wenze and Xie Xizhao were sent off to the kitchen. Dou Yu was assigned to help them.

The rest of the group split up: Ai Qingyuan, Yun Pan, and Yu Qingjun went into the village to gather more ingredients, while the others stayed behind to clean the house.

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