Chapter 114: Group Names, Selling Like Hotcakes
The nine images each displayed a piece of paper, and on every sheet was the name chosen by a group member, written in their own handwriting.
The first image featured the origin of the group name The Galaxy.
Shen Xiu wrote: [The Galaxy — Each person shines bright like a star, coming together to form a galaxy that never dims.]
The second image was signed by Song Chengwang. [Pink Miracle — Pink rules the world!]
Ning Sinian kept it simple. [Wind and Light — Graceful and radiant.]
Xiang Yueting stuck to his usual bold and direct style. [Teenage Swagger Supreme — Just admit it, doesn’t the name sound cool?]
Xia Wenhao’s chosen name completely defied expectations and challenged everyone’s perception of him. If it hadn’t been signed with his name, no one would have guessed it was his. [Aurora — Let’s chase the summer fireworks together.]
Mu Zhenchu’s name, just like his stage persona, was full of passion and wild energy. [Midsummer Fireworks — Burn with life in tribute to the gods; let there be a redemption through light and flame.]
Shang Yu, with no strong opinions, simply wrote three words on his paper. [Anything Works — Yep, anything works. But if we really have to choose, I’ll unconditionally support Shen Xiu.]
Zhuang Yi went with something subtle and restrained—so much so that even with the name and explanation, people found it hard to fully grasp his meaning. [Old Alley on South Street — Youth is a cycle without end; our steps never stop, our passion never fades, for life holds more than what’s in front of us.]
Jiang Yanxi’s entry was the most delicate and emotionally resonant. [Miracle — This summer break is an adventure, a miracle, an unforgettable memory. I look forward to the many miracles we’ll create together in the future.]
Surprise after surprise kept coming—and they weren’t half-baked, either. Each one was full of meaning, sending both solo fans and group fans into a frenzy in the comments.
Fans carefully read through the group names chosen by all nine members, along with the meanings behind them.
— What kind of day is this?! Seriously asking—did we time-travel to New Year’s?!
— Xiu-baby said everyone is a star in the galaxy that never dims! I’m crying 😭✨
— Blown away by Boss Xiu’s naming skills. The name and the meaning include everyone! Captain Xiu really loves his team (shouting this loud and proud)!
— As a loyal group fan, I solemnly read through all the name sheets… and ended up with just one thought: Brother Ha, are you serious?! Among all these heartfelt pages, yours feels like a joke 😂
— President Shang, 10/10. You wrote “Anything Works” and still specially circled Shen Xiu’s name. So was the “anything” even real?! 😂
— Is it just me, or does Brother Wang always come through with that unexpected contrast? First he’s the soft “mama” of the group, now it’s “Pink rules the world”?! I’m dying. Who would guess our 6’2″ cool-looking Brother Wang is full of soft pink vibes?!
— When it comes to being effortlessly cool with actual feeling, no one beats Boss Xiu. Totally living up to that over-the-top swagger.
— Now I finally get why Xiu-baby’s group name got the most votes back then… and why Xiang Yueting only voted for himself. That man’s self-vote was pure stubborn pride 😂
— We’ve got the group name and the teaser MV—can the group album be far behind?! Place your bets, people: how many tracks do you think this album will have?
— I’m guessing 6 to 10 songs. Based on my past buying experience, that’s the usual range.
…
As soon as the long-awaited group name was announced, it sparked another wave of heated discussion. Just as Shi Buwen had hoped, The Galaxy became firmly lodged at the top of the trending topic the night before the group album’s release—so much so that not even a strong kick could knock it down. Fan anticipation soared to its peak.
The Galaxy’s popularity was overwhelming. Even fans from other groups who wanted to throw shade could only grumble on their own homepages without tagging the trending topic—too afraid to face off with The Galaxy’s fans, who were at full hype power. Their side had never been strong at fan wars to begin with, and now they stood even less of a chance.
As a result, the trending topic’s comment section remained unusually friendly—essentially a celebration space for The Galaxy’s fandom.
—
September 15, 8:00 PM
Amidst the anticipation of thousands, the official account of Youth Unstoppable finally posted:
@YouthUnstoppableOfficial:
Thanks for waiting.
#TheGalaxy — A night to remember, a future of endless possibilities.
#TheGalaxy’s First Group Album is officially here!
@ShenXiu @SongChengwang @ShangYu @XiangYueting @ZhuangYi @XiaWenhao @NingSinian @MuZhenchu @JiangYanxi (in no particular order)
Physical Album – [Purchase Link]
Digital Album – [Purchase Link]
[18 images]
This was the first boy group launched after Youth Unstoppable came under Shi Buwen’s management. He personally oversaw the planning and design, pouring in a tremendous amount of care and detail.
While fans were still debating whether the release would be digital-only or include a physical edition, Shi Buwen’s answer was simple: both.
The images revealed a physical album of obvious quality—visually stunning with tons of teasers. Each member sported a variety of striking styles, resembling a high-end fashion magazine. Just looking at it gave off an expensive vibe.
The physical album included high-quality CDs for superior sound and even came with VCDs, allowing fans to watch the music videos.
But with such exquisite packaging and the inclusion of both a CD and VCD, it was inevitable that this physical group album wouldn’t come cheap.
Shi Buwen decided to limit the first batch of physical albums to 660,000 copies, symbolizing good fortune and a smooth launch for their debut.
The digital edition of the album, which had no purchase limit, was priced much lower than the physical version.
At the very moment Youth Unstoppable’s group album went live, The Galaxy’s fans were instantly reminded of the frenzy surrounding Captain Shen Xiu’s luxury summer campaign for VG, when fans barely had time to like the post before everything sold out.
Afraid of a repeat scenario, they skipped straight past the comments, rushing to click the purchase link.
Only after successfully buying the album did fans return to leave comments with peace of mind.
— Got it! One copy, total satisfaction 🙌 [Image]
— Didn’t expect this to be the most expensive physical album I’ve ever bought. At first I didn’t even check what was included, but now that I’ve gone through the images—honestly? Totally worth every cent! [Image]
— My last physical album was ¥488. This one’s ¥888, but I’m not mad. It includes both a CD and VCD, and even has bonus gifts! [Image]
— Only had enough for the digital version, but sending love to all my rich sisters out there 💖 [Image]
— Help!! Is it just my internet lagging, or is the link glitched? Why does it say I can’t buy it anymore?! It’s only been FIVE MINUTES since release! I don’t get it!
— Same here! The purchase button has gone grey in my cart. Does that mean… it’s sold out already?!
— Did you guys not stock enough?! @YouthUnstoppableOfficial Account
— For those who did manage to buy it—go check the digital album sales numbers. Prepare to have your jaw hit the floor (says someone currently crawling around to find their jaw).
(Dramatic scream while jaw-hunting: It’s only been SIX MINUTES, oh my god!) [Image]
Because of previous accusations that VG and Shen Xiu had faked their collab sales numbers, the Xiuologists all made sure to post proof of purchase this time around.
Not just them—fans of every member in the group seemed to have learned their lesson from last time.
Now, whenever fans commented, they included screenshots of their orders, leaving no room for anyone to question the legitimacy of the numbers.
At the same time, Shi Buwen stared at the “Out of Stock” notice on the backend, wearing the same look of disbelief as the fans.
“Director Xu, weren’t there 660,000 physical albums listed across all those links? Why are they all showing zero now?”
“Did someone input the wrong number?”
The assistant director, having just confirmed with staff, hung up the call and turned to Shi Buwen—his face flushed red, muscles twitching from excitement.
“Director Shi, no mistake. We got it right. Everything’s correct!”
“The riches that once rained on VG… it’s finally our turn!”
Shi Buwen’s eyes lit up.
“You mean—they’re sold out? Every single copy?!”
The assistant director nodded vigorously.
“Yes, Director Shi—”
He didn’t even get to finish the sentence before being cut off by Shi Buwen’s ecstatic shout:
“AHHHHH how are the fans this amazing?!!”
Because of the high production cost, every part of the album had been created to luxury standards. Shi Buwen knew the ¥888 price tag was justified—but he also knew it was significantly more expensive than typical physical albums.
He’d been worried the 660,000 copies wouldn’t sell and that the next day he’d become a public joke.
But clearly, he had underestimated them.
“Director Shi, take a look at the digital sales too.”
The assistant director clutched his chest, feeling like his heart might leap out of it after seeing those staggering numbers.
Shi Buwen leaned in, and after seeing the stats, clutched his chest and collapsed into his chair.
“I can die happy!”
“Same!” said the assistant.
At this point, they didn’t even need to look—both of them could already imagine how jaw-dropping The Galaxy’s debut group album numbers were going to be.
When the official Youth Unstoppable account posted the links for the new group album, all nine members of The Galaxy immediately shared the post using their personal and studio Weibo accounts.
But soon after, as fans struggled to buy the physical version, confusion and frustration started bubbling up. Not only did they flood the official account with questions, but they also began commenting under each member’s post, asking what was going on.
After all, this was their first group album. All nine members had enthusiastically and nervously shared the link the moment it went live—and now they watched as fans begged for answers about the sold-out status in real-time.
Worried, they each reached out to the Youth Unstoppable team via WeChat to check on the inventory status.
Shi Buwen, upon receiving a call from a staff member relaying the chaos, immediately instructed the operations team to issue a statement.
@YouthUnstoppableOfficial Account: All 660,000 physical albums from this release have SOLD OUT. The purchase links are functioning properly. To fans who weren’t able to grab one, please check out the digital album here → [web link]
Faced with the official statement, fans who had been hoping it was a technical glitch had no choice but to accept the truth: The Galaxy’s debut physical group album was truly, completely sold out.
— Five minutes. Just five minutes. You’re telling me 660,000 copies?! Who would believe that?!
— If I hadn’t personally watched the site lag from the traffic, I’d have thought this was fake.
— Are you guys demons? This isn’t just breaking records—this is next-level. Selling this much in so little time? That’s explosively rare, even in the idol world.
— I couldn’t get one 😭 Waiting here for someone to post an unboxing video. I mean, I’ve only ever bought albums priced at ¥188/¥388 or ¥418. This one was ¥888 and still sold out instantly. I just want to know—was it worth it?
#RecordBreakingDigitalSalesInTenMinutes
#660kInFiveMinutes
#NoLackOfMoneyHere
#TheGalaxyPhysicalAlbum
#LuxuryPriceTag
—
Lin Jiashi stared at the endless stream of trending topics about the boy group The Galaxy, anxiously tugging at his hair, feeling like it was falling out in handfuls from sheer stress.
He had just dyed his white hair black, and when he lowered his hand, the strong scent of hair dye lingered on his fingers. Irritated, he wiped his hand with a tissue and asked Du Heng restlessly, “Are we still going through with the release tomorrow?”
Judging by The Galaxy’s current popularity, tomorrow’s trending topics would definitely be dominated by individual and group fan data. The buzz would be no less intense than today’s.
He had recently landed an endorsement and had planned to ride the coattails of The Galaxy’s fading hype to announce his “fresh start” — promoting a new line of refreshing facial tissues.
But he hadn’t expected The Galaxy’s nine-member group to be such a powerhouse. Forget riding the wave — with how hot they were right now, his tissue ad would probably get buried completely, not even a whiff of attention left for him.
Du Heng replied, “…I’m afraid we can’t delay it.”
“The client insisted on launching tomorrow. As the vendor, we don’t really get a say.”
High-end endorsements were out of reach for Lin Jiashi, so he had settled on this tissue brand, planning to take the “starting over” route.
Too bad the client didn’t care about his personal brand strategy and insisted on this unfortunate timing.
Lin Jiashi groaned, “Ugh, this is so annoying! Why did I obediently accept every endorsement that came knocking? Can’t I just throw money at something and be done with it? What a waste of time!”
Ever since he dyed his hair to a tea-black shade, losing the signature contrast of his bright white hair, his popularity had plummeted. Fans were leaving, saying he no longer had that eye-catching, sweet charm he’d had in the beginning.
Du Heng muttered, “Weren’t you the one who said you wanted to prove yourself on your own…?”
Now that things were falling apart, he was blaming Du Heng again. Speechless.
Honestly, being his manager was truly a miserable job.
Calling him a manager was generous—Du Heng was basically Lin Jiashi’s personal servant, ordered around day and night. This job really didn’t pay enough for the trouble!
But it was too late to back out now. Even if Lin Jiashi wanted to cancel the endorsement, he couldn’t. The vice president might like him, but Lin Jiashi hadn’t generated any real profit for the company in a while. If he broke the contract, that goodwill might vanish completely.
When Lin Jiashi had independently secured the tissue ad, the vice president had even praised him for taking initiative.
He couldn’t afford to ruin that good impression.
So Lin Jiashi clenched his teeth and said, “Fine. This time, I’ll throw money at it.”
—
The next day, just as Lin Jiashi had predicted, The Galaxy was still dominating the internet. Their sales numbers were off the charts—it was a celebration day for fans, a digital carnival.
Meanwhile, Lin Jiashi’s “pure and refreshing” tissue brand launch made not even a ripple. Not a splash, not a wave—just a handful of loyal fans commenting, and sales numbers too dismal to mention.
Even though he’d braced himself for this, when it actually happened, Lin Jiashi still found it hard to swallow.
So, without hesitation, he bought data—boosting engagement and sales stats.
In under half an hour, both the repost count on the official endorsement announcement and the tissue’s sales looked fantastic on paper.
Of course, all of it came out of Lin Jiashi’s own pocket.
A pack of tissues might be cheap, but when you’re buying in quantities of n, the cost adds up fast.
Not that he actually intended to receive them. Even if the brand really tried to deliver, he’d given them a completely fake address—there was no way anything would arrive.
All he needed were the numbers. Once they were out, he’d cancel the orders and get a refund.
At the same time, thanks to their explosive popularity, all nine members of The Galaxy were landing various new endorsement deals.
As for Shen Xiu, his schedule was already fully booked with the drama Immortal Path and driving school—so he turned down all the offers.
After hearing that Shen Xiu had turned down a slew of endorsement deals in one go, Kaiser proudly called Shi Buwen to brag, “See? I told you—Shen Xiu only agreed to endorse VG’s summer line because of me.”
Shi Buwen rolled his eyes. “Listen to yourself—how cheap can you get?”
He used to be nervous when he first introduced Shen Xiu to Kaiser. Looking back now, he realized he had seriously overestimated the man.
—
Meanwhile, the production of Immortal Path was moving full steam ahead.
With Shen Xiu on board, Xuan Ji had no trouble signing the actors he’d had his eye on for months.
And now that K Corp had officially invested in the show, Xuan Ji was suddenly flush with cash. Costume designers, acting coaches—everything he’d previously thought was out of reach, he now hired without hesitation.
With enough money, no problem was too big. Immortal Path wrapped up pre-production at lightning speed and officially entered filming.
It was well known on set that K Corp’s investment was made solely because of Shen Xiu. Everyone understood that he was, without a doubt, the production’s biggest backer. And knowing full well that the “God of Competence” Shen Xiu had zero tolerance for incompetence, the entire crew was on edge, treating him with the utmost care—and a whole lot of anxiety. No one wanted to end up being dismissed like Lin Jiashi.
On the day filming began, the male lead—an industry newcomer—and the female lead—a rising star from web dramas—stood nervously together. Though it was their first time meeting each other, compared to the intimidating presence of Shen Xiu (whom they were also meeting for the first time), they instinctively gravitated toward one another like allies in a battlefield.
Shen Xiu was so aloof. He stood there quietly, doing absolutely nothing, yet a single glance from him sent chills down their spines.
But he was also blindingly charismatic. As scared as they were, they couldn’t help but sneak glances at him from the corners of their eyes.
While stealing looks, they whispered back and forth, chatting like they’d been friends for years.
Fang Chengxing whispered, “Ahhh I almost got caught staring at Boss Xiu!”
Liang Cheng replied, “Who isn’t?! Seeing him in person is on another level—no wonder the Xiuologists call him Demon King Xiu. That aura is unreal!”
Then Liang Cheng added with a grin, “You’re screwed though—you play his disciple in the show, hahahaha. Are you even going to be able to act when you’re face-to-face with him?”
Fang Chengxing fell into despair at that, and muttered like a man facing his doom, “If I stutter during a scene with Boss Xiu… will he kill me?”
Liang Cheng chuckled, eyes twinkling, “Nah, he won’t k*ll you. He’ll just silently judge you with that cold, soul-piercing stare of his.”
Fang Chengxing: “…Maybe I should just d*e now.”
Liang Cheng: “Haha…Bos—cough cough—hello, Mr. Shen!”
She had barely laughed when she saw Shen Xiu walking toward them. Startled, her voice cracked and she began to stammer.
Fang Chengxing instantly straightened up, standing obediently next to Liang Cheng. The playful banter from a moment ago vanished—they didn’t even dare to breathe too loudly.
Meanwhile, Shen Xiu was having a mental struggle of his own. He remembered Teacher Sun’s advice: Actors should communicate more before filming. So he’d been standing off to the side, quietly psyching himself up.
After a long moment of internal turmoil, he finally mustered his courage and walked over.
Shen Xiu: “Hello.”
“!” The moment they heard his cold voice, both Liang Cheng and Fang Chengxing stood even straighter, holding their breath, not daring to move.
Seeing that neither of them responded, Shen Xiu had no choice but to press on awkwardly.
“My acting is poisonous. Even Teacher Sun Yue was speechless after watching me. You better brace yourselves.”