Chapter 116: Joining the Crew
After posting on Weibo, Shen Xiu relaxed his furrowed brows, put away his phone, and turned to Jiang Wan, who had reminded him.
“Thank you. I know now.”
If not for his classmate’s reminder, he wouldn’t have known Lin Jiashi was that seriously ill.
And as someone who was little more than a casual acquaintance, this was all he could do for Lin Jiashi.
Shen Xiu sincerely hoped that Lin Jiashi would recover—and never show up in front of him again doing things he couldn’t make sense of.
Because Jiang Wan had set Shen Xiu’s Weibo account as a priority follow, she was notified the moment he posted.
Hearing Shen Xiu’s thank you, Jiang Wan glanced at the Weibo post, then looked back at him.
“…You’re welcome.”
As Shen Xiu’s figure disappeared from view, the long-silent Film & TV Class 2 suddenly turned up the volume.
“Did you see that?!”
“Totally saw it!”
“The way Xiu-baby frowned just now—I knew something was up. And just like I thought, he was pissed! He even said Lin Jiashi was mentally ill and should go to a psychiatric hospital! I’m dying, that was savage!”
“What the hell is Lin Jiashi even thinking? So weird.”
“Honestly, I kind of get it. I mean, Shen Xiu is just that charming. Even his rivals—wait, no, Lin Jiashi doesn’t even count as a rival. Shen Xiu’s never taken him seriously. That’s the thing—anyone Shen Xiu openly ignores ends up obsessed with him.”
Ling Yuanzhen, listening to the chatter, felt nauseated. Grabbing his books, he left the classroom.
He just didn’t get it. So what if Shen Xiu had better grades, came from money, and knew how to play nice in front of teachers? What was so great about him? Why did everyone like him so much?
He was just a damn green tea*!
Seeing Shen Xiu’s latest Weibo post, his loyal fans—the Xiuologists—along with curious onlookers and his classmates who witnessed it all firsthand, were both thrilled by Shen Xiu’s merciless response and amused at Lin Jiashi’s expense.
— This number might be the best psychiatric hospital in the city, not entirely sure. Could you do a good deed and help me confirm it? @LinJiashi
— Just looked it up—it really is a mental hospital. Totally matches Lin Jiashi’s current mental state. As expected of Xiu-baby: always so kind and adorable. What do you think? @LinJiashi
— I’m dead, ROFL! Only our Boss Xiu could snatch bamboo shoots straight from a panda’s mouth like that! 😂
— If anyone dares say Xiu-baby isn’t kind, I’ll fight them. Just look at this—he cares so much about Lin Jiashi’s well-being! @LinJiashi
…
Thanks to Shen Xiu’s savage reply, the scandal involving Lin Jiashi faking sales under Shen Xiu’s name—using Shen Xiu as the buyer and listing the address of a villa Shen Xiu once appeared in during a boy group survival show—blew up online, catapulting Lin Jiashi’s notoriety to new heights.
Xiuologists and gossip-hungry netizens had seen plenty of celebrity drama before. They knew it wasn’t uncommon for artists—or their fans, often at the urging of big fan accounts—to fake endorsement sales.
But no one had ever seen a case quite like Lin Jiashi’s.
He didn’t just fake sales—he used another artist’s name and address, then had the bad luck of running into a no-nonsense vendor who didn’t rely on the shipping info, but tracked IPs and payment records… and sent the goods straight to Lin Jiashi’s home.
It was comedy gold. The comments under the trending topic were all jokes at Lin Jiashi’s expense. No one thought the seller had done anything wrong.
Unsurprisingly, the top few spots on the entertainment trending chart were all related to Lin Jiashi.
Other celebrities, watching Lin Jiashi get publicly dragged, were shaken. They quietly thanked their lucky stars that during their own data-boosting campaigns, it had always been the fans doing the buying. And even if those fans later returned the goods and tanked the store’s ratings, it had nothing to do with them personally.
But—
After what happened with Lin Jiashi, it was likely that going forward, brand clients wouldn’t treat celebrity endorsements and return policies so casually.
Other merchants, seeing that public opinion hadn’t condemned the tissue company’s actions, took note. Some were already planning to include tricky fine print on their product pages to reduce future return disputes when working with celebrity endorsements.
Online sentiment was overwhelmingly one-sided. Lin Jiashi’s fans seemed to have vanished into thin air—perhaps out of sheer embarrassment—no longer clapping back at gossip-hungry netizens like they used to.
The tissue brand that had hired Lin Jiashi as their spokesperson seized this wave of public backlash, citing breach of contract and damage to their brand reputation as grounds for termination.
Soon after, they publicly released the termination agreement, pulled all marketing materials featuring Lin Jiashi, and within half an hour of the announcement, launched a new line of tissue packaging. With public curiosity at its peak, the brand made a killing in sales.
—
Back at a villa in the suburbs, Lin Jiashi paced back and forth, completely uninterested in the mountain of tissue boxes piling up outside his door.
Returning them? Out of the question. The sales page clearly stated: No returns or exchanges unless there’s a quality issue.
Du Heng had checked the product thoroughly back when Lin Jiashi first agreed to endorse it. There wasn’t a single flaw. Regardless of what was happening online, even if Lin Jiashi wanted to return the goods, he couldn’t.
As for Shen Xiu’s viral @ mention that had thrown him right into the spotlight, Lin Jiashi didn’t even dare respond.
He didn’t even dare look at the trending topics to see how badly netizens were roasting him.
When Du Heng called, the first thing out of Lin Jiashi’s mouth was:
“Has the trending tag been taken down yet?”
It was the only move he could think of after Shen Xiu had dragged him to the top of the hot search list.
But people online have short memories. No matter how bad the scandal, if you throw enough time and money at it, everything becomes manageable.
Du Heng, exhausted, replied, “Can’t take it all down. There’s just too much!”
“Take one trending post down, and a bunch more pop up right after.”
Lin Jiashi’s voice rose, sharp and panicked. “How is that poss—”
“How is it not possible!”
After years as a manager, Du Heng quickly realized—after pulling a few tags down—that it wasn’t just bored gossiping netizens resisting the takedowns and relentlessly pushing Lin Jiashi back onto the trending page.
Someone was paying to keep him on there.
There was only one person Du Heng could think of.
His voice grew heavy.
“Prepare yourself. One trending tag after another is coming. That means Shen Xiu is furious. Looks like you’ll be stuck on the hot seat for a long time.”
Lin Jiashi couldn’t believe it. “But I already apologized! We cleared the air, didn’t we? What the hell is he doing?!”
Du Heng felt like dying. He reminded Lin Jiashi through gritted teeth:
“You did apologize—and knowing Shen Xiu, he really would’ve let everything go. But then you had to go and fake sales using his name and his home address. You seriously thought you could poke the bear again and not get mauled?”
Lin Jiashi anxiously bit his fingernails as he paced back and forth, glancing now and then at the pile of tissue boxes stacked like a mountain outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.
His mind was a complete mess. He had no idea what to do. Frustrated and frantic, he snapped at Du Heng:
“I just filled it in without thinking! Any idiot could tell Shen Xiu would never buy stuff for me, and the seller wouldn’t actually send the tissue to his place! How was I supposed to know the vendor would double down, refuse refunds, and shamelessly ship it all to me?!”
It was bad enough being caught in a scandal—now he’d been completely humiliated.
Du Heng was about to respond when a WeChat notification popped up.
He read the message, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Without another word to Lin Jiashi, he simply said, “I’ve got something to take care of. I’m hanging up.”
“You dare hang up on me?!”
It was the first time Du Heng had ever hung up on him—Lin Jiashi stood there in stunned disbelief.
—
K Corp.
Someone knocked a few times on Qin Mo’s office door. When they heard his permission, they entered.
The person walked up to Qin Mo’s desk and gave a respectful report.
“Assistant Qin, as per your instructions, all the trending topics unfavorable to Lin Jiashi have been pushed onto the hot search.”
Qin Mo replied calmly, “Got it. You can go.”
“Yes, sir.”
The office door closed behind them. Qin Mo set down the pen in his hand and leaned back in his chair with satisfaction.
Shen Xiu never did anything meaningless. The way he had deliberately @-mentioned Lin Jiashi and told him to go to a psychiatric hospital—there was no mistaking the intent. He clearly wanted to spark public mockery.
Tsk.
No one understood Shen Xiu better than him.
Qin Mo was thoroughly pleased with himself. Looked like his bonus this year was going to need a serious bump.
With Shen Xiu’s pointed @, the netizens’ love for drama, and Qin Mo’s behind-the-scenes boost, Lin Jiashi was guaranteed to stay on the trending page, humiliated, until Thursday.
Naturally, throughout this whole period, Lin Jiashi never replied to Shen Xiu’s @.
Not only that—sharp-eyed netizens noticed that Lin Jiashi hadn’t even logged into his account.
His trending streak finally came to an end on Friday, just as fans of The Galaxy began receiving their physical album orders and eagerly posted their unboxings online.
In Qin Mo’s mind, the success of The Galaxy’s physical release far outweighed keeping Lin Jiashi up there for public shaming.
Priced at 888 yuan, the limited 660,000 copies of The Galaxy’s physical album had sold out within five minutes of release.
Even so, the high price point had drawn criticism from other fandoms and casual onlookers, who thought it was far too expensive.
@LanYueQingFeng:
#TheGalaxyGroupAlbum #CaptainXiu
This is The Galaxy’s first full group album—of course I had to get both the physical and digital versions! (Unboxing the moment it arrived!) I pulled a Xiu-baby plushie, it’s absolutely stunning!!! Now I finally get why the physical album was so pricey—turns out there were so many surprises not shown in the official promo pics! 📹 [Shared Video]
As soon as LanYueQingFeng, a well-known fan artist in the fandom, posted her Weibo, it was flooded with curious onlookers.
In the unboxing video, viewers were shocked to discover a crystal ball-shaped item that hadn’t been shown in any of the official previews.
The base of the crystal ball had an adjustable dial. With LanYueQingFeng’s detailed demonstration, fans realized it allowed users to switch between any of the twenty songs on the album.
Even more impressive: when played in a dim room, each track projected a different starry galaxy scene around the space. That meant twenty songs, twenty unique starfield experiences.
Of course, all the previously announced items—like the physical CD and VCD—were also included.
But beyond that, there were plenty of surprises not revealed beforehand: in addition to the crystal ball music player, the album box also contained plush dolls of the nine Galaxy members, along with various accessories like earrings, sunglasses, and wristwatches.
The plushies appeared to be randomized draws, as different people in other videos had pulled different members.
In LanYueQingFeng’s video, the camera lingered the longest on the Shen Xiu plushie—clear proof of just how much she loved her hidden “Captain Xiu” pull.
— Forget everything we saw earlier—the fact that there are twenty songs was already a surprise. But now you’re telling me there’s a VCD for the MVs, a custom The Galaxy crystal ball music player, plushies of the members, and accessory blind boxes?! This is insane!! The only thing I’m upset about is… I didn’t manage to get one! 😭😭😭
— The photo book is absolutely stunning, too. Every member’s styling is chef’s kiss levels of cool!
—I looked up the sunglasses I pulled from the blind box—turns out this pair goes for ¥228 on the official site. Not bad at all!
— I got Nian Nian’s plushie, but I’m hoping to trade for Brother Yi’s. Anyone want to swap?
— I’m just gonna say it—I want Boss Xiu’s! Anyone willing to trade?!
— I’m different. I’m a group stan, so I’m happy no matter who I pulled. But… anyone putting theirs up for sale? The official Weibo already said there won’t be a restock, so I’m squatting here in case someone wants to sell.
—Replying to squat—same here! I’m willing to pay extra!
With no restock planned for The Galaxy’s first-ever group album, and the unboxed contents proving to be more than worth the price, the album instantly became a limited-edition collector’s item. Anyone who managed to grab a copy had basically hit the jackpot.
After seeing so many low-quality physical releases in the past, even non-fans were now tempted to dive in and start collecting—just for the sheer quality of the production.
All those earlier complaints calling the album “overpriced” or accusing the group of “cashing in”?
Nowhere to be found.
—
Saturday.
Today marked Shen Xiu’s first official day on set for filming. The production team had asked him to arrive by 9 a.m.
But Shen Xiu, nervous about his first true acting job, didn’t dare cut it that close—he arrived at 8 a.m. sharp.
The crew had been bustling around since 7 a.m. When they saw Shen Xiu arrive at 8, they exchanged glances—none of them looked the least bit surprised.
After all—it was the God of Grind Xiu.
Showing up early to get a head start? Nothing unusual there.
Since Shen Xiu had arrived, he was taken straight to hair and makeup.
His styling was more elaborate than most—complete with special effects makeup. The artists had originally been worried about running out of time and delaying the shoot, but Shen Xiu’s early arrival eased their nerves considerably.
Sunday’s shoot primarily centered on Shen Xiu’s scenes. For Fang Chengxing, who had enjoyed a peaceful five days of filming without Shen Xiu, the real challenge was about to begin.
The night before, after wrapping up filming and returning to his hotel, Fang Chengxing had tossed and turned, unable to sleep just thinking about today’s scenes with Shen Xiu. He gave up trying and simply got up early.
By 8:30 a.m., Fang Chengxing arrived on set and looked around at the crew still sparsely scattered around the studio. Feeling proud, he thought, ‘I must be the earliest actor here today.’
“You’re here? Great, great—go get into makeup!”
The assistant director, new to the role and still running on adrenaline, lit up at the sight of Fang Chengxing and eagerly waved him over.
After a few days of filming, everyone had grown more familiar. Since they were close in age, Fang Chengxing didn’t feel intimidated and cheerfully replied, “Got it!”
He headed toward the makeup room.
Just as he stepped inside, he spotted a tall figure standing with his back to the door. The man’s bare shoulders and arms were covered in sharp, icy blue markings shaped like jagged frost.
Just the silhouette alone was enough to make Fang Chengxing feel like he was breaking through the boundaries of fiction—standing face-to-face with Li Yang, the abyssal dragon from the novel.
Such an aura of icy strength, that towering build—he didn’t even need to see his face to know:
It was Shen Xiu.
The moment Fang Chengxing realized it was Shen Xiu, the nervous tension that had been building since yesterday reached its peak. His legs gave out slightly, and he nearly tripped over the threshold—he had to grab the doorframe to steady himself.
One of the makeup artists glanced up in concern. “You okay?”
Shen Xiu had already recognized Fang Chengxing’s familiar footsteps approaching, but with four makeup artists working simultaneously on his body and face for today’s scenes, he didn’t dare move a muscle. Even his mouth stayed still—any movement could ruin the fine detailing of the prosthetic scales being applied.
Fang Chengxing swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady. “I-I’m fine.”
Truth was, he was just completely intimidated—on every level.
Shen Xiu had a bigger name, showed up earlier than him, and was about to play his cold, imposing master on screen… All that combined made Fang Chengxing seriously consider turning around and running away.
Liang Cheng knew Shen Xiu would be arriving today. Even though she didn’t have any scenes, she had still come in before nine, just to catch a glimpse of Shen Xiu’s performance.
When she saw Fang Chengxing frozen at the doorway, blocking the entrance, she called out in confusion, “The assistant director told me you were already here getting makeup done. Why are you—”
She hadn’t even finished the sentence before she stepped closer and caught sight of Shen Xiu’s appearance inside.
She inhaled sharply.
Then turned a look of deep sympathy toward Fang Chengxing.
Now she completely understood why he hadn’t dared walk in. If she were confronted first thing in the morning by someone who looked like he’d just torn through the depths of the ocean, shrouded in murderous energy like a vengeful dragon from the abyss, she’d probably want to flee too.
Back inside, Shen Xiu had heard both Fang Chengxing and Liang Cheng’s voices. He was getting increasingly anxious.
He couldn’t move his mouth to greet them—not without risking ruining the detailed scale makeup being applied to his face—but he didn’t want them to think he was being rude or ignoring them on purpose.
Liang Cheng patted Fang Chengxing on the shoulder and called out his name in the Immortal Path: “Master Hen, you got this! Go for it!”
Fang Chengxing cast a long-suffering look at the gloating Liang Cheng, completely speechless: “…”
Seeing his expression, Liang Cheng beamed and sang playfully, “You want to run, but you can’t get away~”
Fang Chengxing: “Oh, shut up already. Fine, I’m begging you!”
Liang Cheng chuckled and flashed an OK sign.
Shen Xiu: “…”
Shen Xiu didn’t get it. Why did a normal conversation between Fang Chengxing and Liang Cheng suddenly turn into a musical number?
It was bad enough he couldn’t understand what they were talking about—why didn’t he get that lyric either?
But all of that was beside the point. The real saving grace was that the makeup artists were there with him, also just as unnecessary to the moment!
If it had just been him alone, listening to Fang Chengxing and Liang Cheng go back and forth like that, Shen Xiu would’ve wanted to crawl under the table and hide.
Thanks to Liang Cheng’s motivational singing, Fang Chengxing turned to look at the cool and aloof Shen Xiu, who hadn’t said a word. Steeling himself, he stepped into the room.
The makeup artist finished painting the delicate bluish scale patterns around the corners of Shen Xiu’s mouth and extending down both sides. Now able to speak, Shen Xiu rotated his body at the artist’s request to face Liang Cheng and Fang Chengxing. He tilted his chin slightly, and while the artist worked on the scales at his neck, said in a frosty tone:
“Good morning.”
As Shen Xiu turned with those icy blue contact lenses in, head slightly raised and gaze coldly assessing, his voice low and aloof, Fang Chengxing froze on the spot.
“G-Good morning…”
In that moment, Fang Chengxing felt like he was already in the scene. His knees nearly buckled—he almost knelt down and respectfully called him Shizun.
Liang Cheng licked her dry lips and echoed, “Good… morning.”
God, this was off-camera, and Shen Xiu already radiated the ruthless, deadly aura of Li Yang from Immortal Path. What kind of terrifying presence would he bring once they were actually filming?
She thought back to Fang Chengxing’s acting from a few days ago, and combined with Shen Xiu’s high standards, she suddenly felt a lot of sympathy for Fang Chengxing.
After exchanging morning greetings and taking care of his manners, Shen Xiu noticed that Fang Chengxing and Liang Cheng were staring silently at him. Feeling awkward, he awkwardly asked, “Not getting makeup done?”
“I’m coming, I’m coming! Right now!” Fang Chengxing quickly jumped up and took a seat at his makeup station. His makeup artist immediately went over to start working on him.
Liang Cheng also hurried to the chair beside Fang Chengxing, tapped her phone, and Fang Chengxing instantly caught on. Pulling out his own phone, he started chatting with Liang Cheng while the makeup artist worked on him.
Fang Chengxing: !!!
Liang Cheng: !!! I get what you mean!
Fang Chengxing: I’m sure that glance Shen Xiu shot me just now, that chin tilted high—it was totally him channeling Li Yang from the show!
Liang Cheng: Shen Xiu must be giving you a heads-up, helping you get mentally ready for the scenes with him. Starting the game before the actual face-off. When you think about it, Shen Xiu’s actually pretty decent!
Fang Chengxing: Boo hoo, even so, I’m still scared!
Liang Cheng: Don’t worry, I’ll bury you later!
Out of the corner of his eye, Shen Xiu caught sight of Fang Chengxing and Liang Cheng texting each other, and awkwardly looked away.
Internally, he thought: When will I ever be able to hang out with everyone without it being so awkward?
Li Yang, the proud, aloof, and untouchable character in Immortal Path, had a complex and ever-changing makeup design. Naturally, his makeup took longer than the others’.
Because of the complexity of his makeup, Shen Xiu started his styling earlier than Fang Chengxing, but they both finished at the same time.
After finishing their makeup and styling, Shen Xiu and Fang Chengxing headed to the shooting location.
Before Shen Xiu’s scenes with Fang Chengxing, Fang Chengxing still had a scene with other actors. Shen Xiu couldn’t sit down because of his makeup, so he stood nearby, waiting.
During his scene with the other actors, Fang Chengxing couldn’t help but think about Shen Xiu watching him from not far away. The pressure was immense, but he pushed himself hard to perform well.
Fifteen minutes later, Fang Chengxing’s scene was finally over. Feeling relieved, he thought back on his performance.
Under Shen Xiu’s watchful eye, he felt he’d done even better than before.
After watching Fang Chengxing’s scene, Shen Xiu fell silent.
He hadn’t expected Fang Chengxing’s acting to be even more poisonous than his own.
Shen Xiu finally understood what it felt like to watch someone else’s poisonous acting. He now deeply sympathized with why Teacher Sun had been silent the first time watching his performance.
Now, after watching Fang Chengxing, Shen Xiu was silent too.
Just as Fang Chengxing was feeling proud of his performance, he turned to see Shen Xiu frowning. Unease crept into his chest and, almost instinctively, he asked, “Is—is something wrong?”
**TN
Green tea – is slang for someone who pretends to be innocent or sweet but is actually manipulative.
