Chapter 107.1: Confirmed to Star in Immortal Path
“Tsk. The internet’s full of rumors right now, and it’s obvious to anyone paying attention that it’s coming from Lin Jiashi’s camp. Judging by how confident they are, it’s pretty much confirmed. Otherwise, if it turns out to be false, they’d be the ones getting laughed at—and while Lin Jiashi might be that reckless, Du Heng isn’t.”
Shi Buwen could totally understand why Lin Jiashi’s side was doing this.
Even though he was “just” a variety show director, the director circle was small. Everyone knew that after Shen Xiu turned down the role of Li Yang, Immortal Path’s investor bailed.
Xuan Ji tried to hold onto the investment without using Xuan Yushu’s name, but in the end, he really couldn’t keep it.
Qinghe Entertainment stepping in with funds at that point had been a lifesaver—practically Immortal Path’s benefactor. Naturally, that meant Lin Jiashi could pick whatever role he wanted.
“…Oh.”
Having run into Lin Jiashi so often, Shen Xiu now felt he was only about “medium rare” in his heart. Hearing his name didn’t even trigger an emotional reaction anymore.
Shi Buwen: “‘Oh’? That’s it? That calm?”
Not even a little something else going on inside?
According to the words of the fan circle, Lin Jiashi and Shen Xiu were practically “rivals” because of the drama between them on the talent show. So if your rival just snagged the role you turned down, wouldn’t that at least be a little surprising?
Shen Xiu hesitated for a moment, still not understanding what was wrong with his answer. He looked sincerely at Shi Buwen and asked: “What else should I say?”
He had turned the role down. Lin Jiashi got the part of Li Yang through his own efforts—that was perfectly normal.
It was his own fault for not valuing the opportunity at first. What did that have to do with Lin Jiashi?
If there was a mistake, it was his own.
Shang Yu looked at Shi Buwen with a smile: “Your mindset still isn’t broad enough.”
Xia Wenhao chimed in bluntly: “Exactly, just someone unimportant, right, Captain Xiu?”
Shen Xiu didn’t think Xia Wenhao was wrong, and nodded: “Mm.”
Even though Lin Jiashi was already “medium rare” in his mental grill, he still didn’t feel much more familiar than a stranger. Compared to the people in this room, Lin Jiashi really wasn’t important at all.
After responding, Shen Xiu pushed out his tile and said: “Hu.” (Winning hand in Mahjong)
Shi Buwen stared at Shen Xiu’s tiles from top to bottom, confirmed everything was in order, and let out a wail of unwillingness: “Shen Xiu, I even tried to distract you on purpose—how are you still winning? This defies logic!”
Ning Sinian quietly laid out Shi Buwen’s tiles for everyone to see and whispered: “With this hand… even if Shen Xiu didn’t win, you still wouldn’t have.”
Everyone looked at Shi Buwen’s tiles and immediately averted their eyes. It was that bad.
Mu Zhenchu couldn’t help but marvel: “I thought my hand was terrible, but clearly, there’s always someone worse. Director Shi, much respect.”
Shang Yu offered a fair and honest evaluation: “Terrible at the game but loves to play.”
Shi Buwen, frustrated but not ready to give up: “Again! I refuse to believe I won’t win at least once tonight!”
After tallying up every round after the second one, Shen Xiu easily noticed that Shi Buwen consistently lost the worst in every single game.
And yet he still wanted to keep playing? Was this the legendary “the more setbacks, the braver you get”?
That kind of spirit… was stronger than his own.
According to what Shi Buwen said earlier, Lin Jiashi was definitely going to play Li Yang. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have confidently leaked the info to the marketing accounts.
All things considered, that meant his rejection was already a done deal.
Thinking of that, Shen Xiu mentally shut down.
Now that he was clearly aware of being rejected, he avoided opening Weibo even more.
…
At 7 p.m., the ten-person gathering came to an end.
Shen Xiu had been dragged into playing mahjong almost the entire day by the unrelentingly competitive Shi Buwen, so he hadn’t had a chance to drink. By the end of the dinner, only he and Shi Buwen were completely sober.
Shi Buwen and Shen Xiu called for designated drivers and cars. Together with the staff at Tang Le, they helped get the rest of the group into the vehicles. Shen Xiu asked for the contact info of both the drivers and the taxis, and requested they call him once everyone had arrived home.
Since Shi Buwen had come with Shang Yu, and Shang Yu was the last to leave, he stayed behind until the end.
Even though Shi Buwen usually seemed a little unreliable, he knew very well that as the oldest among them, it was proper for him to pay the bill if everyone else was drunk.
So, Shi Buwen told Shen Xiu to go inside and help Shang Yu out.
Shen Xiu didn’t think much of it and went into the private room to help the drunk Shang Yu.
Shi Buwen walked up to the front desk, reported the room number and his name: “Room 6, Shi Buwen.”
The front desk remembered the group in Room 6 quite clearly—not only had Shen Xiu, the first one in, stood out with his outstanding presence, but everyone who came in afterward had left a memorable impression.
There was no need to even look it up. The receptionist smiled: “Hello, Mr. Shi. The bill for Room 6 has already been placed under Mr. Shen’s name.”
Hearing that, Shi Buwen was stunned for a moment. Then it clicked, and he let out a sigh of admiration: “As expected of Shen Xiu—always thoughtful.”
No wonder Shen Xiu didn’t bother being emotionally intelligent with Lin Jiashi. Was it because he didn’t know how? No, definitely not. It was just that… he didn’t want to.
Right then, Shen Xiu was coming out of the private room with Shang Yu’s arm over his shoulders, helping him walk. A nearby waiter who had tried to help earlier had been waved off by a dazed, drunk Shang Yu.
Shi Buwen walked over to the two of them and lifted Shang Yu’s other arm, placing it over his own shoulder.
When his arm was placed on someone else’s shoulder, Shang Yu lifted his eyelids and took a quick look. Seeing it was Shi Buwen, he closed his eyes in relief.
Noticing Shang Yu’s little action, Shi Buwen couldn’t help but complain: “What a strange habit. Every time he gets drunk and someone helps him, he has to check who it is first…”
Shen Xiu recalled how Shang Yu had done the exact same thing when he helped him in the private room earlier. He thought to himself that it wasn’t a strange habit—Shang Yu was just highly alert.
If he were drunk, he wouldn’t dare let a stranger help him either.
After helping Shang Yu into the back seat, Shi Buwen remembered that Shen Xiu didn’t have a driver’s license. As he shut the rear door, he said: “Come on, get in. I’ll give you a ride home.”
A ride between friends?
Shen Xiu swallowed, secretly excited, and nodded: “Thank you—sorry to trouble you.”
He needed to speed up his driving test progress. Among friends, favors should go both ways—if someone gave him a ride, of course he should return the gesture!
System: […You’re really trying to balance this too?]
Was Shen Xiu born to be this considerate?
Shen Xiu righteously retorted in his head: [What else?]
Even if friends didn’t keep score, he couldn’t keep taking advantage of them.
Shi Buwen said casually: “No need to talk about trouble between us.”
Shen Xiu sat in the passenger seat and buckled up. As Shi Buwen drove off, he couldn’t help but grumble: “They all drank like that—who knows if they’ll even be able to get up and film tomorrow.”
Remembering he was the group leader, Shen Xiu instinctively responded: “I’ll call them and wake them up.”
Only after speaking did Shen Xiu realize—they had exchanged contact info, but most of their communication was still through WeChat.
As soon as he thought about having to call each person tomorrow morning to wake them up, Shen Xiu belatedly felt a tingling sensation on his scalp.
Shi Buwen said, “Then I’ll leave it to you. I’ll send you the address later.”
Since things had come to this, Shen Xiu could only brace himself and reply, “…Okay.”
—
At eight in the evening, Shen Xiu returned home.
The moment the door opened, the familiar sharp mewling of a kitten rang in his ears.
To confirm his earlier suspicions, Shen Xiu turned on the lights and quietly walked toward the area he had cordoned off with a carpet and a black fence for the kitten.
The kitten was still too young to run around freely and obediently stayed in the fluffy little bed Shen Xiu had bought for it.
Even if it tried to stand up, it would stumble and fall within seconds, completely unable to leave the oversized luxury cat bed that was far bigger than its tiny body. All it could do was paw at the plush fish toy and little round ball inside the bed, meowing loudly as it did.
During the party, Shen Xiu had contacted building management three times to come and feed the kitten.
The feeding sessions had been recorded and sent to his phone via the monitoring system, so Shen Xiu was certain that the kitten wasn’t hungry. And yet it was still crying so pitifully. Shen Xiu quietly stood behind the kitten and softly called out, “Lucky…”
Upon hearing the voice from behind, Lucky’s meows paused for a moment. Then it twisted its little head around, its big round black eyes looking up at Shen Xiu.
“Meow… meow…”
The meows had lost the earlier heart-wrenching desperation from when it hadn’t noticed Shen Xiu, now turning into soft, reserved, almost coquettish sounds.
Shen Xiu: “…”
‘Very well. Confirmed—Lucky definitely has two faces!’
As Shen Xiu crouched down and carefully picked Lucky up, he couldn’t help but brag to the system: “System, did you see that? Lucky really knows how to act!”
Utterly captivated by the kitten’s little performance, Shen Xiu sat on the sofa, gently placed it in his lap, and whipped out his phone to take a flurry of photos.
The system slipped into his phone and browsed through Shen Xiu’s gallery, staring in disbelief at the endless stream of nearly identical cat pictures, questioning its very existence as a system.
It didn’t understand—weren’t all these photos more or less the same? Why did Shen Xiu keep taking them?
—
While Shen Xiu was completely absorbed in cuddling his cat, Xuan Ji stared at the unread private message screen, waiting so long he felt like the flowers had withered.
If he hadn’t stubbornly insisted he wouldn’t rely on his parents, he probably would’ve already swallowed his pride and begged his dad to call Shen Xiu and ask why he wasn’t replying.
Unwilling to let go of his dignity or turn to his father, Xuan Ji instead sought out someone more… compatible in temperament—or rather, someone who shared his chaotic energy—Zhao Heng.
“You tell me, it’s already been a whole day. Why hasn’t Shen Xiu read my DM yet? Was I not sincere enough? Or does he think I replied too slowly and now he doesn’t want to deal with me anymore?”
“I think the second possibility is more likely,” Zhao Heng said. “Shen Xiu gives off that cold, unapproachable vibe—super cool, probably got a temper too. Maybe he’s mad you replied so late…”
Zhao Heng suddenly interrupted himself: “Brother Xuan, have you considered the possibility that Shen Xiu saw the rumor from that marketing account and assumed we’d already chosen someone else for the role, so he didn’t think there was any need to respond?”
Xuan Ji looked completely baffled. “When did I ever say we found the right person?”
He hadn’t done anything all day—didn’t dare check anything, didn’t dare get distracted—afraid that if he looked away for even a second, he’d miss Shen Xiu accepting his WeChat request.
“Hang up, I’m sending you the link.”
Zhao Heng ended the call and sent Xuan Ji a link to a gossip Weibo post from a marketing account claiming that the role of Li Yang in Immortal Path had already been confirmed to go to Lin Jiashi.
Xuan Ji opened the link—
—Aaaah decoded in one second, no wonder it’s Immortal Path, their taste is razor-sharp!
—Wishing Immortal Path and our boy @LinJiashi a heavenly ascent together!
—Picking up someone else’s leftovers—how interesting. Lin Jiashi can’t seem to forget Shen Xiu, but wasn’t Shen Xiu also his white moonlight~?
—Still the same Qinghe Entertainment. One Duan Mingfei leaves and here comes another Lin Jiashi. Tsk tsk, I have a strong feeling that in the coming years, the film and TV industry will be tormented by Lin Jiashi just like it was tormented by Duan Mingfei back in the day.
—Tsk tsk tsk, so sour. My baby hasn’t even acted yet, what do you mean tormented? Duan Mingfei isn’t even in the same league as my baby, how dare you compare them?
