Chapter 147.1: The New Year Ends, Departure for Mangila
Shen Xiu looked at the tombstone, then let his gaze fall on Lucky. He murmured softly, “I brought Lucky to meet Mom and Dad. We’re together now, and very happy.”
Spring couplets, fireworks, firecrackers…
He had almost completed the checklist of must-have New Year’s Eve items that the group had mentioned. He even brought Lucky to meet his parents. On this New Year’s Eve, surrounded by everyone’s well-wishes, this year was unlike any other for Shen Xiu—it truly made him happy.
On the other end of the call, no one knew what Xiang Yueting was doing when he suddenly burst into laughter. “Hahaha! Xiang Xiaobao, you’re so dumb!”
After laughing, he seemed to remember he was still on the group voice call. Thinking of what he had just heard, he quickly spoke up: “…Ah, okay, Captain Xiu, I heard you! Please send my regards to Uncle and Auntie! Wishing you and them a Happy New Year!”
Shen Xiu nodded sincerely. “Thank you.”
Then he quickly added, “Wishing you and Uncle and Auntie a Happy New Year, too.”
“Got it~”
Shortly after, Xiang Yueting said Happy New Year to everyone in the group call and then hung up.
On New Year’s Eve, families and relatives who usually go their separate ways finally gather—everyone was busy. Just like Xiang Yueting, the others in the group exchanged quick New Year’s greetings and ended the brief call.
Everyone heard Shen Xiu’s response, and since it was pretty much in line with what netizens had guessed, no one found it surprising and didn’t press further.
Once the group call ended, Shen Xiu put away his phone.
Thinking of what his friends had just said, he turned to the double tombstone in front of him and repeated each of their New Year’s greetings.
In the cemetery, the bitter wind howled across his face. The sound of the wind mixed with Shen Xiu’s quiet voice as he spoke to his parents.
There were only eight people in the group, so it didn’t take long for Shen Xiu to finish conveying all their New Year wishes.
When Shen Xiu was speaking, he didn’t feel anything unusual—but the moment he stopped, only the sound of the wind lingered in his ears, and the lively atmosphere from just minutes before vanished without a trace.
Yet Shen Xiu realized that even though only the wind remained, and it was no longer bustling like before, he didn’t feel that same hollow emptiness in his heart and surroundings as he had earlier, when he’d been sitting alone in his room.
Taking a deep breath, Shen Xiu lowered his eyes and pulled out his phone again, intending to check the time to decide whether or not it was time to head back.
The system came back online just in time to see Shen Xiu’s long, slender fingers unlock the phone and open the camera, and it stammered nervously:
[Y-You’re not going to take a photo and post it on social media, are you?]
It wasn’t being paranoid—Shen Xiu’s past behavior had been one surprise after another, each bolder than the last. So when he hesitated while looking at the tombstone, phone in hand, the system couldn’t help but overthink.
It just couldn’t imagine it. On a day meant for joyful family reunions, everyone else was posting pictures of their families gathered around dinner tables or taking warm, happy group selfies.
And then there was Shen Xiu—posting a selfie with a tombstone.
That would be terrifying. Full-on horror-movie vibes!
Even just picturing it made the system feel like its already shaky database was on the verge of collapse.
Because using one hand made it hard to operate, Shen Xiu accidentally opened the camera app after unlocking his phone and blinked:
“?”
For a moment, Shen Xiu was speechless.
After a few seconds of silence, he couldn’t help but ask, “System… your tastes are quite something.”
He wasn’t crazy—he would never post cemetery photos online and risk startling his fans or unsuspecting strangers who happened to see them.
He wasn’t afraid himself, but he knew others were different.
Besides, he didn’t want to reveal where his parents were buried. Some people clearly didn’t want to see him doing well. He could endure being disturbed, but his parents? Absolutely not.
As that thought crossed his mind, Shen Xiu belatedly realized something—ever since he left the training camp, no one had tried to bother him. Those people had been unusually quiet, completely different from how he remembered them in his childhood. It was… odd.
But Shen Xiu also knew he couldn’t apply a normal person’s logic to people like them, so he let it go and didn’t think any further.
System: [ ? ]
Wait a second—wasn’t Shen Xiu the one with the strange habits? And yet he was the one calling it weird?
Shen Xiu turned off the camera, glanced at the time, then put his phone away and said to his parents, “Dad, Mom, Happy New Year. I’ll come visit again next time.”
With that, he began packing up everything he had brought with him.
There were quite a lot of items—he hadn’t even lit the fireworks or firecrackers, just opened them briefly to show his parents. Now he repacked them all carefully back into the cardboard box.
Finally, just to be safe, Shen Xiu poured a bottle of water over the spot where he had burned the spring couplets and joss paper earlier. Once he saw that the ashes were fully soaked, he started carrying everything back to the car.
After a few trips back and forth, he was finally done.
Under the cool moonlight, apart from the offerings in front of his parents’ tombstone, everything else had been neatly packed up and taken away. The surrounding area of the grave was left clean and tidy.
The way Shen Xiu left was nearly identical to how he had arrived. Even if someone else came to pay their respects the next day, they would have no idea anyone had been there the night before—especially not on New Year’s Eve.
The system watched Shen Xiu walking away from the cemetery, still unable to make sense of one thing: Why had Shen Xiu opened the camera just now?
Still haunted by the mystery, the system asked while Shen Xiu was driving away: [So… why did you open the camera?]
Shen Xiu kept his eyes on the empty road ahead. Hearing the system’s question, he finally realized why it had misunderstood him earlier and replied with some embarrassment, “Sorry, I accidentally tapped the camera. It was just a slip, didn’t mean to make you think I was taking photos.”
System: [……]
The system stayed silent, and Shen Xiu felt the need to defend himself: “I’m totally normal. I’d never do something like take cemetery photos to scare people.”
System: [……]
Right… a normal person would visit a cemetery to celebrate New Year’s Eve?
And Shen Xiu still had the nerve to claim he was normal?
Hah. Classic. It’s always the ones insisting they’re normal who definitely aren’t.
—
At around 1 a.m., Shen Xiu returned to Yulin Banxia.
Lucky had gone out for a walk and now seemed exhausted. As soon as they got home, the cat didn’t even bother to meow. It jumped out of Shen Xiu’s arms, padded over to the master bedroom, and lifted its dark little paw to paw at the door twice—then turned around and looked back at Shen Xiu.
Shen Xiu: “……”
Lucky didn’t say a word, but the way it glanced back at him made Shen Xiu feel like it was saying: “Open the door, human. Got it?”
Silently, Shen Xiu lifted his hand and opened the door.
During the time he was away filming, he hadn’t dared talk to Lucky—worried that if he did, Lucky would miss him more but be unable to see him. So all he could do was quietly watch.
He had seen it all: every night, Lucky would leap up from the floor, latch its whole body onto the doorknob, and somehow force the bedroom door open to sleep inside.
And now…
Shen Xiu looked down at Lucky, who was gazing up at him with wide, innocent eyes. Pretending nothing had happened, Shen Xiu quietly opened the bedroom door.
The moment it swung open, Lucky walked straight in without even looking back and curled up in its cat bed by the floor-to-ceiling window.
The system was dumbfounded: […Do you realize that when you’re not home, Lucky’s bouncing off the walls, climbing everywhere—and the moment you come back, it suddenly turns into a delicate little thing that can’t function on its own? Walks two steps and needs to cling to your pant leg, can’t even open a door without help?]
Shen Xiu: “…I know. But… isn’t this version of Lucky kind of adorable too? Don’t you think?”
System: […]
It had no words.
If envy could take physical form, the system would’ve already burst into flames.
How had it never realized just how shamelessly double-standarded Shen Xiu was?
Seeing that Lucky had settled down and wasn’t moving, Shen Xiu, too excited to sleep, turned around and headed back to the living room to unpack the items he brought back.
After tidying everything up, he glanced at the phone on the table—it was already 2 a.m.
He put it down again, only to realize he wasn’t the least bit sleepy.
Still wide awake, Shen Xiu picked up his phone again, navigated to his profile, and opened the comments under the scheduled New Year’s post he had set to go live at midnight.
Most of the comments were fans wishing him a happy new year. Shen Xiu started reading from the very beginning, typing out replies one by one and sending well-wishes back.
The Xiuologists had assumed that after posting the scheduled New Year’s message at midnight, Shen Xiu wouldn’t be online again that night. So they had all run off to gather in the comments of the official account for Storm.
@StormOfficial: Happy New Year, everyone~ [GIFs x6]
Under the Storm official New Year post, the first five GIFs were behind-the-scenes clips from filming in Yicheng, while the last image was a full cast group photo.
— Let’s be honest, this crew is seriously well-connected. Where’d they get so many luxury cars?!
— Is that what you’re focusing on? Hello?? The real point is that this was shot at Bosen Manor, okay?!
— The full lineup of The Galaxy is already a rare and luxurious sight. I don’t even dare to imagine how insanely extravagant the actual show will be. I have a feeling Storm is going to be an unprecedented, irreplaceable classic in the entertainment industry.
— Mark my words with my ID number: Yu-baby actually replied to a comment under his Weibo. He hinted that he might go back to inherit the family business soon. If that’s true, it’ll be almost impossible to gather The Galaxy again in full.
— Babies, quick! Get over to Xiu-baby’s comment section—he’s chatting with us there!
Spurred on by the enthusiastic cries of fellow Xiuologists, those hanging out under the Storm official post quickly swarmed over to Shen Xiu’s profile.
— Sack Man is here to catch Xiu-baby in one swoop!
— Who even sleeps this late? By rounding up, it’s basically us spending New Year’s with Xiu-baby!
— Just checked the time—it’s almost 2:30 a.m.! Xiu-baby, will you reply to me too? (wink) I don’t need a signed copy like Madam Ying got, I just want a reply from Xiu-baby~ (hopeful)
Shen Xiu replied for half an hour before finally closing Weibo and getting up from the living room couch.
After tidying up the remaining things, he turned off the lights. Now the only illumination in the living room came from the fireworks being set off in unison across the city—light flaring in through the floor-to-ceiling windows—and the gentle glow of the moon.
The system had thought Shen Xiu would now head to the bedroom, but to its surprise, he went into the study instead, opened his laptop, and began writing his thesis.
System: [You’re not going to sleep?]
Shen Xiu replied sheepishly, “…I can’t fall asleep.”
This year had been so different from all the previous ones. He was still riding the high of it all.
System: […Don’t tell me you’re going to be like this for all three days of the New Year?]
The system genuinely couldn’t fathom how happy Shen Xiu must be to be so happy he couldn’t even sleep.
Shen Xiu thought of all the enthusiastic fans in the comments and said shyly, “Maybe…”
