Chapter 150: Qingzhu Award
Yu Xiangwan watched as the number of viewers in the livestream continued to rise, smiling as she said to Shen Xiu, “The livestream has started. Your fans, the ‘Xiuologists,’ and the netizens are all enthusiastically greeting ‘Xiu-baby.’ Go ahead and say hi to everyone~”
As the interviewee, Shen Xiu couldn’t see the comments scrolling across the screen and had to rely on Yu Xiangwan, who could read them, to convey them to him. He felt quite nervous.
Especially hearing the words ‘Xiu-baby’ in real life—its impact was far greater than when Shen Xiu saw those words online. It made him feel even more embarrassed.
“Good morning, everyone.” Shen Xiu raised his hand and faced the livestream camera.
[Good morning, Xiu-baby! Praising Xiu-baby’s legendary beauty prprpr (dog emoji)]
[Haven’t seen you in a while, but Boss Xiu is still as cool as ever!]
[No no no, Xiu-baby is even cooler than before!]
…
Amidst the sea of comments from the Xiuologists’ expressing their love for him, Yu Xiangwan looked at Shen Xiu. “Shen Xiu, are you ready?”
Shen Xiu nodded seriously. “I’m ready.”
“Well then, without further ado, let’s begin today’s interview!”
Yu Xiangwan picked up the colorful card she had prepared earlier and read out the first question: “Shen Xiu, did you have any car scenes in the filming of The Storm?”
The interviews for actors who wrapped up filming were all led by the Storm production crew, so the questions were naturally selected from topics that netizens had been curious about regarding The Storm.
Earlier, while Shen Xiu was still in school, he had eagerly found time to get his driver’s license, and netizens speculated that it might be related to his filming work.
After completing his driver’s license, Shen Xiu finished his third-year semester and then dove straight into filming. Naturally, people assumed that Shen Xiu had gotten his driver’s license for Storm.
Shen Xiu hesitated for a moment as he recalled the filming process.
Seeing Shen Xiu frown slightly without speaking, Yu Xiangwan asked softly, “Is it inconvenient to answer?”
“No,” Shen Xiu replied without hesitation.
“It’s just…” Shen Xiu said with some uncertainty, “By ‘car scenes,’ do you mean me personally driving, or car scenes in general during the filming?”
Shen Xiu was worried about answering inaccurately. When The Storm eventually aired, he didn’t want fans or netizens to think he was misleading them.
[That’s our Boss Xiu—so meticulous even with a small question~]
[Xiu-baby, I want to know everything! (innocent blinking emoji)]
Yu Xiangwan saw that most viewers in the comments were voting for “all of the above,” so she smiled and said, “Everyone wants to know. Can you answer both?”
Shen Xiu nodded without hesitation. “Of course.”
“There weren’t any scenes where I drove myself, but there were car scenes involving others.”
“On to the second question.”
Yu Xiangwan pulled out the next card in the stack. “Shen Xiu, everyone wants to know—since birth until now, how many times have you driven a car?”
With the first question behind him, Shen Xiu was much more relaxed this time.
“If we’re counting shared bicycles and electric scooters, then many times—I’ve lost count. But for cars…”
Shen Xiu looked at Yu Xiangwan. “Does driving at driving school count?”
Yu Xiangwan, keeping an eye on the comment feed on her phone, saw the viewers’ replies and smiled as she shook her head. “That doesn’t count.”
Shen Xiu answered immediately, “Twice.”
Yu Xiangwan, who also enjoyed internet gossip, had long guessed from fans’ detective work that Shen Xiu probably didn’t drive himself, and usually had a driver. Still, hearing that he had only driven a car twice in his life left her genuinely shocked.
[This is basically solid confirmation now! As expected, he always has a driver, no need to drive himself—so I was right about why it took Xiu-baby so long to get his license.]
[But… Xiu-baby said he’s ridden countless shared bikes and electric scooters. That’s such a contrast—either being chauffeured around or riding a little scooter. That’s a huge gap!]
[If it were someone else, it might feel weird. But Xiu-baby just doesn’t care about that kind of thing—he probably just picks whatever’s most convenient.]
[Xiu-baby might have a heavenly background and image, but after following him for so long, I’ve realized how down-to-earth he is. I love him so much!]
Yu Xiangwan drew the third card: “Then, why did you decide to get a driver’s license?”
Thinking back to what had happened before, Shen Xiu sincerely and apologetically said, “To make it more convenient for future film or commercial shoots. Last time, during the VG commercial shoot, I was originally supposed to drive, but I didn’t have a license at the time, so Director Shi couldn’t film the planned driving scene. I feel really sorry about that.”
Yu Xiangwan: “……”
It was just a minor incident during a shoot, yet Shen Xiu had remembered it all this time—and not only remembered, but also took real action to correct it by learning to drive.
How could anyone not like someone like Shen Xiu?
[I originally clicked in just to catch some gossip, but instead I got completely outclassed—he’s richer than me, better-looking, and even more hardworking. Just end me now!]
[Whatever, I’ll just lie down and watch Xiu-baby grind—this lazy salted fish is living happily like that.]
[LOL I don’t like working hard myself, but I do love seeing Boss Xiu work hard!]
After Shen Xiu finished answering, Yu Xiangwan didn’t immediately respond like before. Noticing the pause, Shen Xiu cautiously asked, “Are there no more questions?”
Hearing his cool voice, Yu Xiangwan snapped out of her moment of admiration for Shen Xiu and smiled brightly. “There are more, of course!”
“Third question—are you the main character?”
Shen Xiu shook his head. “No.”
Yu Xiangwan asked, “Why not?”
[Wait, Xiu-baby isn’t the male lead in Storm?! That’s so unexpected!]
[Last time, Boss Xiu played Li Yang and was a supporting role too—this time as well? But why? Xiu-baby’s acting skills are totally main-lead level!]
Thinking back to how he felt when choosing the script, Shen Xiu didn’t want to lie to his fans, so he answered honestly: “I don’t like being the lead.”
Being the lead meant having everyone’s eyes on you, constantly living under the spotlight, always the center of attention.
To Shen Xiu, that felt no different than being roasted alive.
Compared to being the protagonist, Shen Xiu preferred playing supporting roles—walking through an entire life quietly in the background of someone else’s stage.
Shen Xiu nodded earnestly. “Supporting characters are great too—they have wonderful stories of their own.”
Yu Xiangwan: “……”
This… kind of felt like a veiled jab at Jian Jiayu, who’s recently gone viral online.
Jian Jiayu had played supporting roles for years and only gained popularity through them. When he finally got to play a lead, people thought he’d empathize with fellow supporting actors—especially those who, like him, started from the bottom.
Instead, he pulled rank, stole all the spotlight from the supporting cast, and even slashed their scenes until what remained was choppy and incomplete.
Jian Jiayu’s infamous, “candid” quotes that circulated during his PR campaign included: “Who doesn’t want to be the lead? Everyone wants to be the star, okay?” and “Supporting roles? They’re just tools—what’s the point?”
No one expected Shen Xiu to be this in tune with online trends—calling out Jian Jiayu on a livestream, no less, and standing up for supporting characters.
No—wait, that wasn’t even the biggest takeaway.
The real point was: this is so Shen Xiu. He actually dared to say it—completely unafraid of offending anyone!
After all, many actors desperately want to be leads. They resent playing supporting roles. Some even refuse to let supporting actors appear at press events. On screen, the lead shines—while post-production cuts the others down until only the lead’s highlights remain.
[Wanting to be the main character, Jian Jiayu—who’s recently been hogging all the spotlight in the show—must be grinding his teeth in fury after hearing that.]
[…Boss Xiu is still the same Boss Xiu. Worried about offending people? That concept doesn’t exist in his world.]
[I can’t even imagine how messy the comment section under the trending topic will be once this part of the livestream airs.]
[A certain Jian-surnamed actor known for b*llying others who doesn’t let supporting roles sit at the same table: Are you crazy? Just say what you have to say—why diss me?]
[Do you people even know that spreading false rumors and defamation is illegal? None of you are getting away with this!]
[Oh? Looks like the b*lly’s bootlickers caught a whiff and came running.]
[Just a passerby here, but if you’ve got the guts, have your b*lly idol send Shen Xiu a lawyer’s letter (dog head emoji).]
After Shen Xiu answered, he noticed the smile on Yu Xiangwan’s face stiffen slightly. He felt uneasy and nervously swallowed. Forcing himself to speak, Shen Xiu asked, “Was there a problem with my answer?”
Yu Xiangwan: “…No problem.”
That indifferent look he gave the camera—like he was challenging those actors who won’t let supporting characters sit at the table—Shen Xiu was seriously… not just bold, he was cool and badass!
[Boss Xiu (eyes cold and indifferent): Was there a problem?]
[No problem at all! Not even a bit! The Great Demon King Xiu continues to deliver as always! Am I the only one who’s a fan of his savage side?]
[Jian Jiayu: ? Can you guys be a little more polite?]
“The fourth question…”
The interview ended at 11:30 AM.
Afterward, Shen Xiu and Jin Can walked Yu Xiangwan and Assistant Qi out.
Once the two of them left, Jin Can didn’t dare stay alone in the room with Shen Xiu for too long—he was afraid he’d be frozen into a popsicle. He immediately excused himself: “Mr. Shen, I’ve got something to take care of. I’ll go get busy.”
Shen Xiu had been silently struggling with how to get Jin Can to leave so he could relax alone in the room. He hadn’t even figured out a plan when Jin Can offered to go on his own.
Seizing the opportunity, Shen Xiu quickly responded, “Alright. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.”
—
Not even ten minutes after the livestream ended, several trending topics related to Shen Xiu’s interview had already popped up on the entertainment charts.
#ShenXiu
#PoisonTonguedBigBossXiuIsHere
#A_Certain_Jian_Surnamed_Actor_Who_Must_Not_Be_Named
#SupportingCharacterStorylineGotDeletedWhatDoYouSayJianJiayu
#StormOneOnOneInterview
#ShenXiuIsASecondaryCharacterInStorm
#HasOnlyDrivenTwiceButRiddenCountlessBikesAndScooters
Jian Jiayu’s agent told him not to check his phone. But Jian Jiayu, as usual, refused to listen. If told not to look, he had to look.
After reading through the trending topics and netizens’ comments, Jian Jiayu mentally shut down.
Jian Jiayu: “…Shen Xiu’s insane, right? I didn’t even provoke him, did I?!”
Just then, his agent walked through the door and heard what Jian Jiayu said. His heart jumped into his throat, and with a slam, he quickly shut the door to make sure the staff outside wouldn’t hear Jian Jiayu’s reckless outburst.
Seeing the agent come in, Jian Jiayu barked, “Can’t you even take down a trending topic?!”
The agent sighed. “I tried removing it the moment it appeared. But you know how those netizens are—nothing better to do, naturally rebellious. The more you try to take it down, the more annoyed they get, and the harder they push it. Now they’re just flooding the internet with more posts.”
In short—it can’t be removed.
Forget not being able to remove it—as for the fact that the more they tried to suppress it, the more it spread, the agent didn’t even dare to tell Jian Jiayu.
“A bunch of lunatics.”
The agent tried to console him: “Don’t worry too much. You’ve got that honest-and-straightforward persona you’ve built up before—fans won’t drop off too badly. And if some do, we can always buy more. It won’t be a big issue. Just focus on preparing for your nomination for Best Actor at the Qingzhu Awards. Memorize your speech properly, and don’t let outside noise affect your mood.”
Naturally, Jian Jiayu didn’t dare sue Shen Xiu for defamation. After all, those words had come from his own mouth when he was drunk—boasting carelessly and spilling everything in his heart. That was the truth.
The best thing he could do now was stay silent. Once the annual Qingzhu Awards were announced, and if he really did win Best Actor, no one would care much about what he said about supporting roles.
—
After Jin Can left, Shen Xiu began packing his things to head home. He didn’t even think to check his phone, much less look at Weibo.
Just as Jian Jiayu’s agent had predicted, since Jian Jiayu was publicly ridiculed all day and didn’t respond at all, the buzz died down quickly.
—
Shen Xiu returned home from Yicheng and only rested for two days before the winter break officially ended, and school resumed.
Less than a week into the new semester, Shen Xiu received a call from Xuan Ji.
As soon as the call connected, Xuan Ji’s cheerful voice burst through the speaker: “Shen Xiu! I have good news for you!”
When Shen Xiu answered the phone, he accidentally hit speaker mode, and Xuan Ji’s loud voice startled him—he instinctively held the phone farther away.
“Technically, Zhao Heng should’ve been the one to tell you this, since I’m still in school, and we don’t even get a break!”
Xuan Ji heavily emphasized the word school before continuing: “But I decided I had to be the one to deliver this good news, so I snatched the job from Zhao Heng!”
“Shen Xiu, congratulations—you’ve been nominated for Best Supporting Actor in a TV Drama at this year’s Qingzhu Awards!”
“I didn’t expect it either—this was my first time producing a drama, and both leads got nominated for Best Actor and Best Actress. And you, as the second male lead, got nominated for Best Supporting Actor. It’s all thanks to you!”
Xuan Ji rattled off his excitement in one breath before realizing Shen Xiu had gone silent.
Shen Xiu’s silence made Xuan Ji replay what he had just said, and with a jolt of embarrassment, he realized—he’d just acted like an elementary schooler fishing for praise.
No wonder Shen Xiu wasn’t saying anything. He was probably speechless at how childish Xuan Ji had just been.
With that thought, Xuan Ji said awkwardly, “So, um, I’ll be flying back this Friday. I’m meeting with Immortal Path’s leads, Liang Cheng and Fang Chengxing. They both got nominated too—he for Best Actor and she for Best Actress. Do you want to join us?”
Afraid Shen Xiu thought he was immature and didn’t want to talk to him anymore, Xuan Ji tried to rein himself in and waited nervously for Shen Xiu’s response.
Shen Xiu took the phone away from his ear, turned off speaker mode, and rubbed his ear—the ringing in his head from the loud voice was only just starting to fade.
Recalling what Xuan Ji had just said, Shen Xiu answered his questions one by one:
“Thank you for telling me. I got it.”
“It was a team effort.”
“I have class on Friday. Let me know what time the event is on Saturday, and I’ll come find you all.”
Xuan Ji didn’t know Shen Xiu’s class schedule. When he heard that, he first gave a regretful “Oh,” then quickly added:
“The event starts this Saturday evening—red carpet at 7 PM, award ceremony at 8. This year’s Qingzhu Awards are being held a bit far from the city center. Zhao Heng will send a car to pick you up an hour early.”
Without waiting for Shen Xiu to reply, Xuan Ji quickly asked another question.
“You’re still living in Yulin Banxia, right?”
Although Shen Xiu had never publicly revealed it, even without being told, Xuan Ji could guess that Shen Xiu probably owned multiple properties. Since he hadn’t been back to the country for a while, he wasn’t sure if Shen Xiu had moved. He was just confirming if Shen Xiu still lived in Yulin Banxia.
Shen Xiu didn’t think much of the question and simply assumed Xuan Ji thought he might’ve moved or was just renting a new place. He replied, “I’m still there.”
Xuan Ji nodded in response—then realized Shen Xiu wasn’t physically in front of him and couldn’t see the nod, so he quickly added, “Alright, got it.”
Shen Xiu: “Mm.”
Xuan Ji had snatched this “task” from Zhao Heng mainly because he wanted to chat with Shen Xiu. But even over the phone, he could feel the coldness radiating from Shen Xiu. Now, he was too embarrassed to bring up his school life again, afraid Shen Xiu would find it childish. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say.
After Shen Xiu responded, Xuan Ji didn’t hang up. He waited a few seconds in silence. The quiet became so awkward that Shen Xiu, despite himself, had to ask, “Is there anything else?”
If not—please hang up already!
Xuan Ji: “…No, that’s all.”
Shen Xiu: “Then… goodbye?”
Xuan Ji still didn’t want to end the call, but Shen Xiu’s indifferent tone made him lose the courage to continue. He could only go along with it: “Okay, goodbye.”
Once the call officially ended, Xuan Ji still didn’t hang up. Shen Xiu had no choice but to end the call himself.
Shen Xiu, who normally disliked being the one to hang up first, stared at the “Call Ended” screen for a few seconds, then guiltily flipped the phone face-down on the table.
Meanwhile, Xuan Ji, still staring at his phone screen, quietly dialed Xuan Yushu.
When the call connected, Xuan Yushu was greeted by his son’s mournful voice on the other end.
“Dad… do you think Shen Xiu thinks I’m childish?”
To Xuan Ji, Shen Xiu was someone special. But it seemed like, to Shen Xiu, he wasn’t. Shen Xiu always responded to him in the same calm, formulaic tone—never saying anything extra, never straying from the topic at hand. Once they finished discussing something, the conversation simply ended. This made Xuan Ji feel very dejected.
Thinking back to their time filming Storm, Xuan Yushu firmly said, “You’re overthinking it.”
“Shen Xiu might not show it on the surface, but back when you were filming Immortal Path, he was willing to teach you so much—that means he did care.”
“Even so, that’s no reason to talk to him about pointless stuff. You’re wasting his time.”
“Teacher Jiang said Shen Xiu might pursue directing in the future. You could talk to him about things like filming techniques or camera language.”
Xuan Ji: “…Goodbye! Might as well let him keep thinking I’m childish!”
Before formally learning about filmmaking, Xuan Ji used to think acting and shooting were simple. But after starting structured studies, even hearing phrases like “filming techniques” gave him a headache now.
—
Friday.
After finishing his classes for the day, Shen Xiu returned home and finally had the mental space to think about the upcoming Qingzhu Awards ceremony on Saturday with the Immortal Path crew.
After his previous offline event with VG, Shen Xiu had already learned that walking the red carpet required a full set of formalwear and professional grooming.
At that time—whether it was the VG event or promotional tours—everything was taken care of by the production team.
Now that the crew wasn’t arranging anything, Shen Xiu quietly opened a food delivery app and began placing orders for makeup from nearby malls, planning to do his own hair and makeup for tomorrow.
Suddenly, the system jumped into Shen Xiu’s phone and couldn’t resist shouting through the speaker: “Why don’t you just call someone to come do your hair and makeup at home?”
As Shen Xiu’s manager, the styling system had already contacted the waiting list of brand partners while Shen Xiu was in class. The chosen brand had tailored a suit to his measurements and had it delivered to his home.
When the system suddenly spoke through the phone’s speaker, Shen Xiu was so startled his brain short-circuited. His hand jerked, and he nearly flung the phone across the room.
Since he was at home and there was no one else around, Shen Xiu didn’t have to worry about his image. He placed a hand over his chest to calm his startled heart and said quietly, “System, next time before you speak through the phone, please remind me mentally first.”
Then he answered the system’s earlier question: “No need. I can do it myself.”
Wearing a full suit just to go out and get his makeup done? Passersby would definitely think he was bizarre and flashy. Calling a stranger over to his home for makeup? That would just be an intense staring contest with a stranger in an enclosed space.
To him, both options were equally “damaging.”
After weighing his options, Shen Xiu decisively chose the one with the least psychological damage—doing it himself.
System: [……]
Sometimes, the system felt deeply confused by the contradiction that was Shen Xiu.
What kind of celebrity is so socially anxious that they’d rather do their own hair and makeup?
…
Saturday, 6 PM.
As night began to fall, Shen Xiu, wearing a face mask, arrived at the gated entrance of his residential community. Before too many people could spot him, he quickly got into the car sent by the Immortal Path production team.
Since Liang Cheng and Fang Chengxing lived in the same direction—opposite from Shen Xiu—the production team had arranged two cars for pickups.
After roughly an hour of driving, the car arrived at the venue for this year’s Qingzhu Awards.
The driver parked in the designated area, swiftly exited the vehicle, and moved to open the door on Shen Xiu’s side.
The driver opened the car door and spoke in a low voice, “Mr. Shen, Director Xuan, Director Zhao, as well as Miss Liang and Mr. Fang are in another car. I’ll take you to them now.”
“Alright, thank you.” Shen Xiu stepped out of the car and politely thanked the driver who held the door for him.
“You’re welcome.”
After closing the door, the driver walked slightly ahead and led the way. “Please follow me, Mr. Shen.”
“Mm.” Shen Xiu followed behind.
To avoid Shen Xiu being seen and causing a commotion, the driver deliberately led him through a dim, less-crowded area.
The parking lot was filled with cars, and as Shen Xiu and the driver weaved between them, he could occasionally hear faint snippets of indistinct conversations.
“I’ve been holding it in for so long, it’s been suffocating. If I win tonight, push out the press releases everywhere. Flood the internet. If I don’t win… drag down Fang Chengxing, say he doesn’t deserve it.”
“So annoying. Who the hell is Fang Chengxing anyway? Even when I was playing supporting roles, I got more attention than him. Now that we’re both playing leads, why is he even qualified to compete with me for the same—”
At first, Shen Xiu didn’t pay the chatter any mind—he didn’t recognize the voices anyway.
But when he suddenly heard the familiar name “Fang Chengxing,” he instinctively looked up while still walking behind the driver.
Jian Jiayu, who had been mid-rant, stopped short when he saw Shen Xiu walking directly toward him.
Jian Jiayu: “…”
What kind of dogsh*t luck is this?!
