Chapter 135.1: Travel to Amara
Fang Chengxing: “…Hahaha, that joke was really funny.”
Liang Cheng: “…Hahaha, yes, I didn’t expect you to be so sharp this time, realizing right away that I was joking.”
The staff laughed along awkwardly to smooth things over.
“This obviously sounds like a joke. Who would take it seriously?”
“Exactly, absolutely not! Oh dear, the live broadcast time is up. Let’s say goodbye to our dear viewers in the livestream~”
Liang Cheng raised his hand and smiled as he waved at the camera: “Goodbye, everyone~”
Fang Chengxing also leaned in toward the camera, his face showing a cheerful smile: “See you next time~”
With the help of the staff, the two leads said their goodbyes to the livestream audience, and only then did the staff turn off the stream.
Though the livestream had ended, in the now pitch-black streaming room, netizens who had just taken their first bite of gossip — and hadn’t even had time to swallow — were still stuck choking on it. They hadn’t left the room.
[Was that supposed to be funny? Even through the screen, my toes are curling from secondhand embarrassment. I know it’s best not to pry, but sorry — I really can’t help my curiosity this time. What exactly did they mean? Anyone here from K Corp?]
[…I don’t dare say the name directly, afraid I’ll get caught. Let’s just say — what does a Chief Eunuch usually do? It’s not hard to decode what they meant.]
[Shen Xiu is so young, so… does that make him the Crown Prince?]
[Highly likely. I’ve never seen him — who usually struts around like he owns the place in K Corp — act so deferential to anyone! Judging by age, he probably is the Crown Prince.]
[Weird, where are the Xiuologists? Why are the Xiuologists so quiet today? Someone come explain already! @Xiuologists]
The Xiuologists who had caught wind of this juicy gossip restrained themselves from speaking in the public comment section, afraid someone would take screenshots and accuse them of riding the hype, or worse, claim they were fabricating a “rich second generation” persona for Shen Xiu. Instead, they tacitly agreed to move the gossip into their private fan group chats.
[Group Chat]
— Is it true? Is it really true?!
— Eighty to ninety percent sure, but since Xiu-baby hasn’t said anything himself, let’s not jump on the bandwagon. He’s gotten popular way too fast — a lot of people are watching.
— Agreed. Let’s keep a low profile.
— Quietly waiting for the day Xiu-baby admits it himself!
— Even if Xiu-baby isn’t a rich second generation, it doesn’t matter. What I love about him are all his wonderful qualities, not that superficial stuff!
— Drop your ID number then.
—
Inside the car.
Fang Chengxing and Liang Cheng were both feeling awkward and nervous as they thought back on what they had said earlier. Just the sight of the darkened livestream camera gave them psychological trauma.
Liang Cheng wanted to say something, but before opening her mouth, she glanced uneasily at the camera and said, “Can you cover that thing up? It’s making me anxious.”
The staff were anxious too and had no objections. “Got it.”
Once the camera was covered, Liang Cheng finally looked at Fang Chengxing and asked nervously, “Do you think Shen Xiu will be mad when he finds out?”
Fang Chengxing, thinking about Shen Xiu’s personality, replied uneasily, “Probably not.”
“Shen Xiu probably won’t even bother to respond. He’ll just treat it coldly. After all, to him, this whole thing is meaningless. He’d probably think it’s boring — might not even care to click on the trending topic. As long as Shen Xiu doesn’t care, he won’t respond. And if people see he’s not responding, the hype will die down.”
Based on Shen Xiu’s usual behavior, what Fang Chengxing said made a lot of sense.
After saying this, Fang Chengxing glanced at Liang Cheng apologetically. “Sorry… If I hadn’t shot my mouth off and asked you that question, you wouldn’t have said what you did after.”
Liang Cheng waved his hand. “It’s fine. We should actually be glad we only used a metaphor and didn’t really say anything outrageous — at least there’s still room to backpedal.”
As he spoke, Liang Cheng took out his phone. “Let’s see what the netizens are saying right now.”
“Yeah,” Fang Chengxing agreed.
During the livestream, the incident where the Immortal Path lead actors said something questionable was already gaining traction. It was no surprise at all that the topic made it onto the trending list.
What puzzled the gossip-hungry netizens, however, was that the person at the center of all this — Shen Xiu — along with his fans, the Xiuologists, hadn’t said a single word to confirm or deny the rumors.
In the entertainment industry, it’s widely assumed that major fan accounts are better informed than regular followers and are often in close contact with the celebrity’s studio.
So, as the discussion gained more and more heat and Shen Xiu continued to stay silent, curious netizens started flocking to his biggest fan accounts, asking for answers.
But the Xiuologists had already agreed in their private chats on how to handle this — until Shen Xiu spoke up himself, they would not say a word. When asked publicly, they all played dumb in unison.
— Wow, is it really that deep? You guys know so much — we fans didn’t even know this ourselves!
— If Shen Xiu hasn’t responded, then the rumor must be false. What Crown Prince? He’s probably just afraid to respond and get exposed because it’s totally fake, hahaha.
— Can’t understand a thing. Anyone else get it, sisters?
— Crown Prince what? So weird. Isn’t Xiu-baby already amazing enough as he is? Why do people keep making up these strange stories? I don’t get it — not worth the attention. Let’s move on, sisters.
— Uhh… just a passerby who’s been digging into Shen Xiu’s past quietly says — every time Shen Xiu didn’t respond to something… it kinda turned out to be true. Maybe — just maybe — the reason he’s not saying anything this time is because, to him, it’s just not important enough to bother with?
— Whatever, dropping a “squat squat” gif — sis, I feel like you’re a prophet.
— If your prophecy comes true, remember: “If one day you rise in fortune, don’t forget your sisters in the trenches!”
After scrolling through the comment section, Fang Chengxing and Liang Cheng exchanged glances, eyes full of envy — for Shen Xiu.
There’s an old saying in the entertainment industry: A star rises or falls with their fans. A well-behaved, classy fanbase can give passersby a great impression of a celebrity — known in fandom terms as having “good passerby appeal”.
On the flip side, fanbases that are overly fanatical or act like their idol is some sort of god-king will drive people away and trigger backlash.
Fang Chengxing exaggeratedly wiped away some imaginary drool at the corner of his mouth. “I used to just know that most of the Xiuologists are either wealthy or working professionals with real spending power. But the key is — they’re not just classy, they’ve got a mature mindset too. I’m seriously jealous!”
“Of course. Xiuologists have always been solid,” Liang Cheng replied.
As she spoke, she silently opened the group chat, copied one of their carefully worded ambiguous replies, switched over to her alt account on Weibo, and went to sit “shoulder-to-shoulder” in the trending topic threads, blending in with the Xiuologists.
——
The next day, Shen Xiu was scheduled to meet with the housekeeper who would be taking care of Lucky and handling the house chores. Meanwhile, the Storm crew had changed their filming location to an overseas one. With an early flight ahead and plenty of tasks to handle, Shen Xiu was dropped off by Immortal Path’s vehicle without a second wasted — checking his phone wasn’t even on his mind.
Hurrying home, Shen Xiu casually made himself something to eat. After finishing the meal, he immediately started packing for the trip.
Once he was done with his luggage, he walked over to Lucky’s snack storage room.
Even though he had already written out detailed instructions for the housekeeper on how to take care of Lucky, this was Shen Xiu’s first time leaving his pet behind. He couldn’t help feeling anxious. So he grabbed a stack of sticky notes and labeled every food shelf with clear, easy-to-read notes, making sure everything was visible at a glance.
Lucky had no idea that Shen Xiu was about to leave. After already getting plenty of attention while Shen Xiu was packing, the cat was now lazily sprawled out on the living room sofa, not even bothering to play with him.
10:00 p.m.
After closing the door to Lucky’s snack room, Shen Xiu walked back into the living room — only to find Lucky lying in his usual favorite spot on the couch. His heart warmed at the sight, though a twinge of sadness crept in.
“Lucky,” Shen Xiu called out, walking toward the sofa.
“Meow~”
Lucky glanced at him — but having already soaked up enough affection for the day, the cat was in no mood to cooperate. It didn’t get up, nor did it even consider giving up the spot. It just let out a single meow.
“You don’t want me to leave either, right?” Shen Xiu said softly as he reached the sofa. He leaned down and scooped Lucky up into his arms, sitting in his usual spot and placing the cat on his lap.
Lucky’s lack of enthusiasm didn’t bother him. Shen Xiu was more than happy to interpret the cat’s behavior however he wanted.
“Meow~”
Clearly annoyed at being picked up so suddenly, Lucky meowed in protest — but then, in a well-practiced move, curled up in Shen Xiu’s lap and settled down comfortably.
While gently stroking Lucky’s sleek black fur, Shen Xiu nodded to himself and murmured, “Mm, I know you’ll miss me. I’ll miss you too.”
After that, he picked up his personal copy of the Storm script from the table and began reading it with Lucky nestled on his lap.
The director of Storm had insisted that all major actors not only thoroughly study their own character’s script but also read through the full screenplay.
On the dark wood grain table in front of him, both the full script and his character’s script had already been flipped through so many times, the page corners were visibly worn.
From beginning to end, Shen Xiu never once thought to check his phone — let alone log in to his Weibo account.
—
The next day.
After finishing a conversation with the housekeeper, Shen Xiu handed Lucky over to her, grabbed his luggage, and left.
As the elevator doors closed, Lucky’s meowing was completely shut off.
Inside the elevator.
Wearing a mask and a baseball cap, Shen Xiu stared at the descending numbers. He thought of the moment he said goodbye to Lucky—how Lucky kept rubbing his fluffy little cat head against him, meowing reluctantly. As he watched the elevator numbers change, Shen Xiu couldn’t stop his eyes from turning red and misting over.
Since the day Shen Xiu found and brought Lucky home, he had to go out almost every day, and Lucky had gotten used to being home alone, waiting for him to return.
This time, Lucky thought Shen Xiu would come back soon as usual, so it didn’t react much to his departure. Even when Shen Xiu disappeared completely behind the closing elevator doors, Lucky didn’t let out a single extra meow—it stopped immediately, turned around without a hint of attachment, and walked into the living room.
Lucky patted its black cat-ear-shaped food bowl twice with its paw, then turned to look at the housekeeper auntie: “Meow?”
As a cat lover, the housekeeper couldn’t help but find this two-faced little kitty adorable!
However… as expected of Mr. Shen’s cat—just as cold and heartless as its owner.
—
At the airport.
In the past, whenever Shen Xiu flew, it was always arranged by the production team. He never had to worry about anything—just follow the staff.
This was his first time flying alone. Worried something might go wrong, Shen Xiu strictly followed all the tips given when he bought the ticket and those he’d read beforehand in the “Guide to Flying Alone for the First Time.” He arrived at the airport more than two hours early.
From picking up the ticket to checking in his luggage and boarding the plane, Shen Xiu was nervous the entire time.
What made it worse was that he could feel people’s eyes on him as he walked through the airport. It made him even more anxious, afraid he might make a mistake and embarrass himself in front of everyone.
Even after boarding the plane, Shen Xiu was so nervous that he checked his seat number several times just to make sure he was in the right spot.
It wasn’t until he had correctly and securely taken his seat and mentally reviewed everything he’d done along the way—finding no mistakes—that his anxious heart finally began to settle down after more than two hours of tension.
