Chapter 87: Live Interview (1)
Last night, when the show’s staff said they would be announcing the name of the entertainment company today, the system had already told Shen Xiu the answer.
Faced with the curious gazes of the host and his teammates, and knowing that staying silent too long would be awkward and rude—
Shen Xiu spoke: “I don’t have an entertainment company.”
Upon hearing this answer, neither the people on-site nor the viewers in the livestream were surprised.
Someone like Shen Xiu—who always thinks ten steps ahead and insists on keeping everything firmly under control—would never sign with an entertainment company full of restrictive clauses and rules. That’s simply impossible. Completely impossible.
[Our Xiu-baby definitely has his own studio.]
[Totally agree. It must be Boss Xiu’s personal studio, the kind where he’s fully in charge.]
[As always, no one understands our Boss Xiu better than us Xiuologists!]
“I see.” Yu Xiangwan continued to ask, “So Shen Xiu, are you considered an independent trainee, or are you part of a studio?”
Shen Xiu: “…”
Here it comes. The question has finally arrived!
Resigned to his fate, Shen Xiu answered, “I signed with a studio.”
At this point, Shen Xiu knew that even if he didn’t say it now, the host would keep pressing. After all, the staff had already said last night that everyone’s company info would be revealed to the audience today.
Shen Xiu blurted out, “It’s called ‘Xiu Xiu Studio.’”
It’s normal to use your own name as a studio name—but who uses a reduplicated name like “Xiu Xiu” for a studio?!
So embarrassing!
Shen Xiu had originally thought the production team were the true masters of making him socially die, but now it seemed the system was just as skilled. One after another, they were making his scalp tingle from the cringe.
After saying that, Shen Xiu didn’t even have the courage to lift his head. He didn’t dare imagine what kind of looks everyone might be giving him.
Everyone stared at Shen Xiu, who had just calmly uttered the words “Xiu Xiu Studio”, with question marks practically floating over their heads.
“???”
Whether in appearance or personality, Shen Xiu could truly be described as cool, wild, and domineering. To use such a… cutesy name for his studio—was that really… normal?!
In the livestream:
[???]
[Um, is there something wrong with my ears?]
[So… we guessed right, but not completely right?]
[Xiu-baby’s heart is like a needle at the bottom of the ocean—we just can’t figure him out!]
[Seriously… no one else thinks this studio name is kinda cute? With Boss Xiu’s face, it’s the ultimate contrast cuteness, people!]
[With Xiu-baby’s ultra-cool personality, I swear—this kind of name was chosen because of us!]
[Huh? What do you mean?]
The normally obedient but buggy system that messed up during registration: nervous.jpg
[…Sorry. If I said the name got messed up because of a data error during registration, would you believe me…?]
Since it was a public system, and no one maintained it anymore, its database had grown massive and unstable. The system didn’t dare touch anything for fear of crashing everything with one wrong move.
Shen Xiu let out a tired laugh in his heart: [Heh. As long as you’re happy.]
Seriously, no one cared about whether he lived or died. Social death? Fine. If he dies socially enough times, he’ll get used to it eventually!
Because of Shen Xiu’s answer, an awkward silence descended over the scene.
After a long pause, Yu Xiangwan, the host, felt that this couldn’t go on and finally voiced the question on everyone’s mind: “Why that name?”
The other eight contestants, holding back laughter while still munching on the gossip: “!”
Yeah, why that name? It didn’t match his image or vibe at all! If someone else had come up with such a cutesy studio name, everyone would’ve laughed themselves to tears, okay?!
But no… Shen Xiu wasn’t the type to do anything meaningless—especially something as important as naming a studio that would accompany his entire career as an artist. He absolutely wouldn’t treat that as a joke.
So giving it such a name… could there be some hidden meaning they hadn’t noticed?
Under everyone’s gossip-hungry and curious gazes, Shen Xiu couldn’t just expose the system. So, with practiced ease, he gave it another identity.
“Um… A friend of mine made a typo during registration.”
Yes. The reason behind his social death was that simple. And it was suffocating.
Everyone: “…”
Here we go again. That same familiar excuse!
At that moment, they all wanted to say:
“Was that ‘friend’ actually just you?”
The people on set and the audience in the livestream couldn’t help recalling the last time Shen Xiu had used that exact line. Then, thinking carefully about Shen Xiu’s personality…
Each of them felt they had figured it out.
A studio name that cute, paired with someone like Shen Xiu—that’s the ultimate contrast cuteness!
It was adorable, unexpected, and sure to delight fans. A win-win move.
Of course, given how emotionally detached Shen Xiu was from pretty much everything, it was nearly impossible to imagine him openly saying something like, “I did it for the fans” on a livestream.
So Shen Xiu had to invent this so-called “friend.”
After all, on the debut night yesterday, while everyone else had given their tickets to family or close friends to come watch from the audience…
Shen Xiu was the only one who didn’t give out a single ticket. He returned all of them to the show’s staff.
So it was clear—this friend who supposedly helped register his studio didn’t exist.
And Shen Xiu’s completely indifferent expression when he said the words “Xiu Xiu Studio”—wasn’t that further proof that, in his heart, the name itself didn’t matter at all?
What mattered was that whenever fans remembered or mentioned the name of his studio, they’d smile without even realizing it.
Embarrassing? That word would never, ever, have anything to do with Shen Xiu in this lifetime!
Thinking this, Song Chengwang couldn’t help speaking up.
“If I change my studio name to something like that now, is it still too late?”
Xiang Yueting groaned in frustration: “Damn it! Why didn’t I think of that? I mean, yeah, I’m cool and badass and all, and I’ll be handsome for life—but cute has its perks too!”
Mu Zhenchu nodded solemnly: “Lesson learned. When I qualify…”
“Ahem! Ahem! Ahem!” Yu Xiangwan quickly coughed to cut him off—some things were better said in private, not in front of a live audience.
If his agency saw that, they’d definitely make life difficult for him.
Mu Zhenchu glanced at Yu Xiangwan gratefully—thankfully she stopped him in time. He didn’t say anything. Not really.
‘Thank you, Sister Yu, for saving my life!’
Xia Wenhao quickly spoke up to shift attention away from Mu Zhenchu: “As expected of Shen Xiu.”
Xiang Yueting eagerly echoed, “Exactly! That’s my Brother Xiu!”
Hearing his teammates resist the urge to laugh at him—and instead, stepping in one after another to help him out—Shen Xiu finally gathered the courage to look up at them.
He knew it. These guys were good people.
Everything that had occurred to the people on set had also quickly clicked with the livestream viewers.
[So it was all to make us happy!]
[Exactly! I mean, who else would even pay attention to an artist’s studio name besides us fans? That name was obviously for us. That whole “a friend made a typo” excuse? No way. Completely impossible.]
[Hehe, as a seasoned Xiuologist who’s long grown used to Xiu-baby’s deadpan humor, I foresaw this perfectly. Please, call me a prophet~]
[He may look cold and indifferent to everything, but Shen Xiu always finds his own way to make us laugh. How can anyone not fall for someone like that?]
Yu Xiangwan turned to Xiang Yueting, who stood beside Shen Xiu: “Yueting, Shen Xiu’s finished. Now it’s your turn—go ahead and tell everyone!”
Xiang Yueting lifted his chin proudly and spoke with confidence: “I, Xiang Yueting, have also not signed with any entertainment company. I’m under my own cultural brand. The company is called Cool Guy Culture, same name on all social platforms!”
Shen Xiu: “…”
Xiang Yueting was truly… something else.
“Pfft—hahaha!”
“Old Xiang, only you could pull that off.”
“When Shen Xiu named his studio, he was serious. You were serious too… but clearly it’s not the same kind of serious, hahaha!”
[Apologies, folks (bows). Dragging my Brother Ha out of here.]
[It’s the exact opposite of Boss Xiu’s approach, and yet somehow… it’s still contrast cuteness, am I right, fam?!]
Xiang Yueting rolled his eyes: “Song Chengwang, what are you laughing at? Hah, don’t think I don’t know—you’re just jealous of me.”
Yu Xiangwan turned to Song Chengwang with a smile: “What about you?”
“Ahem.” Song Chengwang cleared his throat and looked directly at the camera with sincerity: “I haven’t signed with any entertainment company either. I opened my own studio, named Song Chengwang Studio. Feel free to follow it, everyone.”
Such a normal name—an unreachable dream for some.
Shen Xiu shot Song Chengwang a deeply envious look.
After Song Chengwang, it was Shang Yu’s turn. With a calm smile, he casually dropped a bomb:
“I’m Shang Yu, signed under Wanhua Entertainment.”
“Damn, you really kept that under wraps!” Song Chengwang couldn’t help but give Shang Yu a light punch to the chest, instantly regretting not registering himself under his own entertainment company.
Shang Yu caught Song Chengwang’s fist, the usual smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Sorry. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to say—it was the show’s policy.”
Jiang Yanxi said quietly, “If I’m not mistaken, Wanhua Entertainment is the parent company behind our show Youth Unstoppable, right?”
Zhuang Yi confirmed it immediately: “Yanxi, be confident. You’re absolutely right.”
Ning Sinian raised his hand: “+1!”
Xiang Yueting asked, puzzled, “But even so, why keep it a secret?”
Shang Yu replied confidently, “Of course. The production team treated all trainees equally.”
As he finished, Shang Yu turned to glance at Shen Xiu.
Seeing Shen Xiu meet his gaze with a calm and indifferent expression—completely unfazed by the news, not even slightly surprised—Shang Yu silently acknowledged what he had already guessed.
As expected.
Back during that banquet orchestrated by Shi Buwen, when Shen Xiu had seen him and Xue Yi in the hallway, he must have already suspected Shang Yu’s background.
Shang Yu’s eyes met Shen Xiu’s.
Shen Xiu, however, didn’t know what Wanhua Entertainment was, and had no idea what to say in response. So he could only maintain the awkward silence and continue looking at Shang Yu.
Based on his teammates’ reactions, Shen Xiu could easily tell—he was the only one here who didn’t know about Wanhua Entertainment.
‘Looks like once I leave the show and get my phone back, I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.’
Not understanding what his teammates were talking about?
Pathetic. Truly pathetic!
[To the people who were yelling about the show being rigged—come out and explain yourselves. Shang Yu was with Wanhua Entertainment, and if there was any favoritism, it should’ve gone to him. But it’s clear the entire competition treated him just like everyone else. That’s your “rigged show”? Really?]
[Wanhua Entertainment though… He really got signed by the top star-making company in the entire industry. What an insane starting point. I’m jealous.]
Ning Sinian: “I’m Ning Sinian from Meilie Entertainment.”
Xia Wenhao: “Hi everyone, I’m Xia Wenhao from Baifang.”
Jiang Yanxi: “I’m Jiang Yanxi from Guji Entertainment~”
Zhuang Yi added, “I’m Zhuang Yi from Mantianxing Entertainment.”
The companies these few were signed to weren’t well-known in the entertainment industry. In fact, Baifang wasn’t even an entertainment company at all. The livestream audience had only a few who recognized the names, so their introductions didn’t cause much of a stir.
Finally, it was Mu Zhenchu’s turn.
“Hello everyone, I’m Mu Zhenchu from Qinghe Entertainment!”
Upon hearing that, everyone present—except for Shen Xiu—turned their eyes toward Mu Zhenchu, all wearing the same look of silent sympathy.
Qinghe Entertainment.
A notorious blight on the entertainment industry.
The boss was an eccentric, and any artist who didn’t cater to that eccentricity would be labeled difficult and immediately shelved.
Qinghe’s most “famous” figure was Duan Mingfei.
Noticing everyone’s reaction, Shen Xiu—though completely in the dark—reflexively followed suit and looked at Mu Zhenchu along with everyone else.
“……”
Help.
Once again, he was living in a world where only he had no clue what was going on!
[How could this happen? Why is my precious baby signed to that garbage company?!]
[For those who don’t know, Qinghe Entertainment has two of the most toxic figures in the business: DMF and LJS.]
[I feel bad for him. If even someone like Shen Xiu turns to look when he hears ‘Qinghe’, it must be really bad…]
This topic wasn’t suitable to dwell on, lest someone from Qinghe Entertainment happened to be watching.
On camera, Mu Zhenchu gave a small smile and sensibly didn’t say too much.
Yu Xiangwan picked up the cards on the table and smoothly transitioned the conversation:
“Next up is our second segment—answering questions from the audience!”
Yu Xiangwan picked up the cards and began reading out the questions that the staff had gathered one by one.
“The first question,” Yu Xiangwan looked at Shang Yu, “is for you.”
Shang Yu nodded and said, “Please go ahead.”
Yu Xiangwan: “Shang Yu, the audience is very curious—during the first solo stage, with the white top hat, black suit, and black pants look, did you discuss this styling with Shen Xiu?”
Shang Yu had already answered this to his friends and shook his head: “No, it was all pure coincidence.”
“Alright.” Yu Xiangwan nodded and then looked at Song Chengwang: “The audience wants to ask you—when will you take off your shirt?”
Song Chengwang glanced at the camera and curled his lips: “It’s not that I don’t want to, I’m just afraid the livestream will get shut down.”
[Did you hear that, sisters? This man is teasing us again!]
[Cough cough, maybe at the concert he can do a shirt rip or something—no livestream to block it offline~]
Yu Xiangwan conveyed the comments to Song Chengwang: “Your fans say it’s okay to do it offline.”
Song Chengwang, thick-skinned, replied: “No problem~”
Yu Xiangwan moved on to the next question: “Xia Wenhao, the audience wants to know—can you wear thigh-high socks?”
Xia Wenhao was instantly baffled: “Are you serious?”
At this moment, Xia Wenhao couldn’t understand what was going through the fans’ minds.
Yu Xiangwan said: “This question is the most asked about you. I think everyone is serious.”
Xia Wenhao: “…Maybe if there’s a chance.”
He hoped that chance would never come.
“Xiang Yueting…”
Before Yu Xiangwan finished, Xiang Yueting excitedly shouted: “Ahhhh, it’s my turn! Finally my turn! Ask away, I’m ready!”
Yu Xiangwan couldn’t help but smile: “The audience wants to ask you, as a husky, when will you accept your true nature and obediently wear a muzzle to go home with them?”
Xiang Yueting: “I’m a husky?!”
“Impossible, absolutely impossible! I’m the cool and handsome ‘cool guy’!”
While Xiang Yueting was questioning his existence, Yu Xiangwan continued: “Jiang Yanxi, the audience wants to know—can this little merman prince be taken home as a package?”
Jiang Yanxi smiled and shook his head: “No, sorry~”
Hearing Jiang Yanxi’s answer, Xiang Yueting became even more confused—why was everyone else a ‘merman prince,’ but he got stuck being a husky?
This just doesn’t make sense!
“Mu Zhenchu, the audience asks—when will you transform into a werewolf? Note: the werewolf who runs shirtless showing abs through the forest~”
Mu Zhenchu: “…Maybe if there’s a chance.”
Wouldn’t that really get you arrested!?
Yu Xiangwan: “Ning Sinian, the audience wants to know—what color of silk ribbon could wrap you up to take you home?”
Ning Sinian thought carefully and answered seriously: “I like off-white satin, but only for dancing. As for being wrapped up and taken away, don’t even think about it.”
Having heard all the questions, Shen Xiu was shocked by how sharp the audience’s questions were and quietly prayed to himself, hoping that the questions directed at him wouldn’t be too terrifying—he was scared!
After Ning Sinian answered, Yu Xiangwan turned her gaze to Shen Xiu: “Shen Xiu, it’s your turn.”
