Chapter 162: Won’t Inherit the Family Business
When emotions run high, it’s easy to speak without thinking. After Jiang Ling spoke, she realized that her words might easily be misunderstood.
She quickly reacted and rushed to clarify.
“I didn’t mean that Xiu-baby didn’t care about Storm at all. What I meant was that Xiu-baby is just too amazing. Nothing really fazes him. No matter what it is, it’s all the same in his eyes—it doesn’t stir up any waves in his heart. That’s why, after watching the film, he could get up so calmly and leave right away.”
“It’s like… you know what I mean, right?”
Although the audience couldn’t see the host’s expression at that moment, they could clearly hear the urgency in Jiang Ling’s voice.
Since his debut, Shen Xiu’s fanbase had been growing every day. Most of the viewers were Xiuologists.
As fans who had followed Shen Xiu all the way to where he was now, no one understood his abilities better than they did. They also fully understood what Jiang Ling meant.
[Host, don’t worry—we totally get it!]
[If we said this about any other celebrity, their fans would probably drag us for being arrogant. But when it’s about our Xiu-baby, isn’t it just plain fact? Just look at his cold and emotionless back as he walked away. I’ll say it bluntly—this movie, to Xiu-baby, is just one more experience, just another mission. Once it was over, it was over. There’s no reason to linger, no attachment. That’s why he left so coolly and indifferently!]
[You Xiuologists… your tone is so arrogant! But damn it, even though I think you’re being cocky, when I remember that the person you stan is Shen Xiu, all I can think is, “Oh, it’s Shen Xiu? Then it’s fine.” Argh, I’ve been completely won over!]
[Hehe, this is the courage that Xiu-baby’s absolute strength gives us fans!]
[Why do I feel inexplicably sad looking at Xiu-baby’s back? It’s like he’s already walked out of the story, while we’re still trapped in it, unable to pull ourselves away.]
[Can’t help it. Boss Xiu is just too outstanding—always improving, always pushing forward, and destined never to stop for anything… Damn, thinking about it like that, Xiu-baby is even cooler and more badass. I love him even more now!]
Seeing the comments from the Xiuologists on the bullet screen, Jiang Ling noticed that no one was talking anymore about Shen Xiu supposedly buying out a theater to fake the box office for his debut film. She let out a huge sigh of relief.
“It’s all my fault—this big mouth of mine. I get too excited and blurt things out. Thankfully I didn’t end up causing a misunderstanding about Xiu-baby.”
“I’ll post the original photo on my homepage after the stream. You can download it if you want. That’s all for tonight. See you next time, bye-bye~”
Worried that she might accidentally say something else that could affect people’s impression of Shen Xiu, Jiang Ling didn’t dare continue the stream any longer. After saying goodbye to the viewers, she quickly ended the broadcast.
Looking at the now-dark screen, Jiang Ling touched her chest, picked up the phone on the table, and posted the unedited photo of Shen Xiu’s silhouette from earlier that evening to her social feed.
Staring at the raw, unfiltered shot, Jiang Ling couldn’t help but mutter to herself, “How can someone’s back alone give off such a commanding, attention-grabbing aura?”
“It’s Boss Xiu, after all—then it makes sense!” After murmuring to herself, a smile naturally crept across Jiang Ling’s face.
At the same time, amidst all the trending topics online about Storm, The Galaxy team, and even various scenes from the film, one new hashtag quietly rose to join the ranks:
#TheEntireStormCastWentWild#
#HanFeiIsThisTheCharmOfAVillain#
#ZhouYanlinAndHisSoftHeartedGodMode#
#RainforestEscapeWasSoIntenseAndThrilling#
#ShenXiu’sBackViewInTheCinema#
#TheGalaxyStormTeamBuilding
#ShenXiuAndShangYuMustHaveHadSpecialTraining
#WearingPrayerBeadsYetEquallySlayingEveryoneWithHisBlade
#ExtravaganceBeyondWhatNovelsCanDescribe
#LegendaryScenesFromStormThatDeserveToBeImmortalized
…
Under the trending topic #ShenXiuCinemaBackView, there were screenshots from Jiang Ling’s livestream chat—posted by marketing accounts.
To stir up drama and chase clicks, the accounts deliberately selected bullet comments containing phrases like “Shen Xiu booked the theater” and “faked box office numbers.”
Sure enough, under those inflammatory screenshots, fans of Shen Xiu and viewers who had gotten tickets and watched Storm that night couldn’t help but vent their anger:
— Faked box office? What a joke. Storm needs to fake nothing. It’s so popular that even the ashes of people saying this nonsense have been incinerated. Understand?
— You might not believe this, but my cousin and I really ran into Shen Xiu in the theater parking lot. We had tickets for the second screening; he watched the first one. When we arrived, the first screening had just ended—the place was packed. How is that faking box office? (Also, he caught us shining a flashlight to look at his car… so embarrassing!)
— 66666 (awesome), even we employees at K Corp couldn’t get internal tickets. We couldn’t even snag them ourselves. What’s the point of faking it?
— K Corp… this once again proves Boss Xiu has an unusual connection with K Corp…
— I’m calling it now: Boss Xiu probably didn’t hand out internal K Corp tickets on purpose—to avoid favoritism!
— Here’s the full recording of the livestream. Go watch it yourself—don’t get manipulated by clickbait marketing accounts. [web link]
Following the link shared by some helpful netizens, curious viewers clicked into Jiang Ling’s livestream room.
After watching the full livestream replay, the curious netizens naturally also saw the bullet comments from Xiuologists and regular viewers pushing back against the accusations of Shen Xiu “booking out the theater” and “faking the box office.”
Objectively, these counterarguments—no matter where you post them—could easily be twisted as arrogance and used against Shen Xiu.
But the strange thing was, the netizens realized: no matter how arrogant the comments were, once they were associated with Shen Xiu, they didn’t feel out of place at all.
Night owls who refused to sleep through the night stayed up to generate countless trending hashtags about Shen Xiu.
#It’sShenXiuSoIt’sFine
#CoolAndUntouchablePersonaWillNeverCollapse
…
Under those hashtags, the comment sections were filled with comedic genius.
— He left, so ruthlessly, without ever looking back at me even once — Storm’s lingering regret.
— Storm: Supreme status, adoration from the masses, endless wealth, unchecked power… I had everything, and yet I still couldn’t make him stay!
— Storm: You’re cold, you’re heartless—can you at least take me with you? Don’t make me beg you on my knees! (slides into kneeling position dramatically)
— Shen Xiu: No.
— Mr. Han’s solo stan Yi Chen draws a gun and shoots Storm on the spot, then sneers: You think you deserve for Mr. Han to stay for you? You wish.
…
In short, the trending topics were flooded with hilarious meme-style tributes from the sleep-deprived fans, all blending Storm with Shen Xiu’s legendary aura.
Various media outlets, seeing how even just Shen Xiu’s back view could ignite such overwhelming popularity, were both envious and eager to jump in. By early morning, they were all contacting the Storm production team, hoping to score an exclusive online interview with Shen Xiu.
Although Storm had only been in theaters for a single day, it had already dominated nearly the entire trending list—its explosive popularity was self-evident.
But no one ever complains about getting too much hype, and the Storm production team was no exception.
Even though they welcomed the attention, the production team was well aware that, judging by Shen Xiu’s every move, the Xiuologists really did know him best. Just as they had said, Storm was nothing more than a tiny blip in Shen Xiu’s brilliant life—just another calculated experience-gaining move.
This level of popularity was completely within Shen Xiu’s expectations. Confident as he was, he didn’t even bother to stay behind to hear the audience’s feedback.
So naturally, the kind of hype that the production team cared about was likely something Shen Xiu couldn’t care less about.
Since the person they wanted for the interview was Shen Xiu, they had no choice but to ask for his input.
Having worked with Shen Xiu on set for quite some time, the Storm team was familiar with his daily routine. At 7 a.m., the producer Shi Yu gave him a call.
Although they’d been working together for a while, Shen Xiu didn’t consider himself part of The Galaxy. Even if he had been a member, unless it was the chatterbox Xiang Yueting calling, Shen Xiu would still hesitate for a full three seconds before answering any of their calls.
It wasn’t that Shen Xiu had anything against the other members of The Galaxy. He always felt guilty after those three seconds of hesitation—but no matter how many times it happened, he still couldn’t stop himself from doing it again the next time.
Because only Xiang Yueting talked so much that Shen Xiu didn’t need to respond at all.
He couldn’t help it—he truly had a deep-seated, instinctual fear of answering phone calls.
Staring at the phone in fear for a few seconds, Shen Xiu took a sip of water to soothe his throat, which had gone dry from anxiety, before finally answering the call.
“Hello…”
“Good morning, Shen Xiu. This is Shi Yu.”
Shen Xiu immediately switched into his formal, socially scripted mode of conversation. “I know. Good morning, Mr. Shi.”
Hearing Shen Xiu’s cold voice come through the line, Shi Yu felt as if the morning breeze had suddenly gotten even chillier.
Standing in the garden, Shi Yu rubbed his arms, which were covered in goosebumps. “Hahaha, so here’s the thing. Storm premiered yesterday, right? We thought we should strike while the iron is hot and do a livestream interview with the lead and supporting male actors—that means you and Shang Yu.”
Hearing this, Shen Xiu’s gaze shifted to the laptop on the coffee table: “Livestream interview?”
Wait—did that mean… no in-person meeting? Just talking online?
What a wonderful thing!
Shi Yu quickly responded, “Yes, Shen Xiu. Would that be okay?”
Shen Xiu was a bit puzzled by why Shi Yu was even asking. He was getting paid for this—it was technically part of his job, wasn’t it?
Besides, it was an online livestream interview. No face-to-face interaction! What a perfect arrangement.
Shen Xiu replied, “That’s fine.”
Shi Yu finally relaxed, then quickly asked, “Great, then when would you be available? We’ll coordinate with Shang Yu and make arrangements.”
Shen Xiu mentally ran through his class schedule. “Any time before 1:30 p.m. today works.”
After that, he needed to eat lunch and head to school.
“And also, on Wednesday…” Shen Xiu listed a few more available time slots.
As Shi Yu listened, it was clear to him that Shen Xiu was giving every single open slot from his schedule. His impression of Shen Xiu instantly improved—doubled, even.
Shen Xiu truly didn’t act like a diva at all. Storm might not have been particularly important to him, but as long as the production team needed something, he agreed to their arrangements without hesitation.
Unlike some celebrities they had worked with before—those who had just a bit of fame and immediately started throwing their weight around, refusing to cooperate with the production team’s plans. Ask them to do anything and they’d just say, “Sorry, I’m busy.”
When Shi Yu saw the reply about Shang Yu that Xuan Yushu sent over, he immediately made a decision: “Then let’s do it this morning—how about 9 a.m.?”
Now that’s what you call timely promotion!
Shen Xiu instinctively nodded. It was only after nodding that he realized Shi Yu wasn’t actually sitting in front of him. His ears turned a little red as he responded, “That works.”
“Great, it’s settled then. Jin Can will contact you for the details. Goodbye.”
Shen Xiu really appreciated this kind of straightforward person—say what needs to be said, then leave, no awkward small talk. He immediately replied, “Goodbye.”
After hanging up, Shen Xiu quickly walked over to his laptop, opened it, and began searching…
The system watched as search terms like “what to prepare for a first livestream interview” and “common questions asked during movie livestreams” popped up in Shen Xiu’s browser, and saw him sitting there in front of the screen, frowning slightly, fingers flying rapidly across the keyboard.
It couldn’t help but fall into deep thought.
In the past, whenever Shen Xiu encountered anything, he would either pick up his phone or open his laptop, frown, and start furiously tapping at the screen or keyboard with a serious expression.
The system had always assumed Shen Xiu was handling some major business.
But now, having possibly caught a glimpse of the truth by accident… it suddenly had a strong, overwhelming urge to die from secondhand embarrassment.
—
Nine o’clock.
Under Jin Can’s coordination, Shen Xiu clicked on the link Jin Can had sent, and the livestream connection started right on time.
Once it began, Shen Xiu saw the screen in the livestream room split in half, with real-time footage of him and Shang Yu each taking up one side of the screen.
At the same time, a familiar voice came through the earphones of both Shang Yu and Shen Xiu.
“Good morning, Shen Xiu, Shang Yu.”
“Good morning to all the viewers in front of your screens~”
Before the livestream, Jin Can had pulled Shang Yu and Shen Xiu into a group chat and shared some reminders about the livestream.
So, after Yu Xiangwan spoke, Shang Yu—playing the male lead in Storm—smiled at the camera and spoke up: “Sister Yu, Captain Xiu, and everyone watching—good morning.”
Once Shang Yu finished, Shen Xiu followed: “Good morning, everyone.”
While the three of them greeted each other, the comment feed was flooded with “Good morning” messages.
Yu Xiangwan: “Alright, without further ado, let’s start today’s livestream Q&A.”
“The first question is for you, Shang Yu. But don’t be nervous—it’s pretty similar to what we asked last time.”
Hearing that, Shang Yu already had an idea what was coming: “Okay, go ahead.”
“Well, here it is—everyone knows you’ve recently returned to work at your own company, and you were even photographed having dinner with people from K Corp. So the question is: are you planning a collaboration with K Corp?”
At these words, Shang Yu’s expression froze. He couldn’t help but glance at Shen Xiu on the screen, and his smile nearly faltered.
He said in a quiet voice, “…Sister Yu, how is this similar to last time’s question?”
Yu Xiangwan: “Haha… that’s what the netizens said.”
Shen Xiu: “?”
The question was for Shang Yu, so why did Shang Yu glance at him? Could it be that he hadn’t washed his face properly this morning and still had something dirty on it?
Since they were in the middle of a livestream, Shen Xiu didn’t dare check a mirror. Instead, he subtly glanced at the black border on the side of the livestream screen, using the dark reflection to check if there was anything off about how he appeared on camera.
Shang Yu saw Shen Xiu’s calm expression, which didn’t seem bothered at all, and let out a quiet sigh before finally speaking: “Yes, there is a collaboration.”
Although he was part of the Shang family, this was his first time officially joining the company. In the eyes of many family members, he was just someone who had wasted time playing around in the entertainment industry before finally getting serious. In that kind of situation, some people in the family didn’t think highly of him.
So he needed a successful partnership to shut those people up.
Shang Yu hadn’t told Shen Xiu about his contact with Qin Mo.
But he figured that since everyone knew Shen Xiu was the crown prince of K Corp, Qin Mo would definitely have mentioned their meeting to Shen Xiu.
After answering, worried the next question would be even harder to handle, Shang Yu quickly shifted the topic toward Shen Xiu: “Now it’s your turn, Captain Xiu.”
Hearing Shang Yu mention him, Shen Xiu couldn’t help but straighten up, nerves rising as he waited for the question.
Yu Xiangwan: “Shen Xiu, everyone saw your back last night at the cinema watching the movie.”
Shen Xiu’s already upright posture stiffened.
No way—are everyone’s eyes that sharp? He had walked so fast yesterday; how could they still have spotted him?
Yu Xiangwan: “So the audience wants to know—was Storm just an experience for you, something you didn’t really care about?”
“?” Who said he didn’t care?!
Shen Xiu blurted out, defending himself: “I do care!”
He had watched the movie super seriously last night!
[Say no more—Xiu-baby is really performing how much he “cares.” Come on, darlings, give Xiu-baby some face and just admit he cares!]
[That’s right, Xiu-baby cares! (This comment cost 50 cents)]
[Xiu-baby cares! (50 cents per comment)]
After reading the barrage of comments, Shen Xiu fell silent.
He was clearly telling the truth—so why wouldn’t anyone believe him?
He muttered softly, “I really do care…”
But his voice was even more emotionless than before, which only made the livestream audience more certain of their earlier assumptions.
[Xiu-baby is trying so hard to act like he cares—I’m crying, how about you guys?!]
[Don’t make it hard for Xiu-baby … Saying “I care” is really tough for him… ah, yeah, it is tough.]
Shen Xiu: “…”
Yu Xiangwan: “Hahaha, now that everyone’s heard Shen Xiu’s answer, I’m sure you all already have your own conclusion in mind.”
“So, Shen Xiu, everyone also wants to know—after Storm, will you be doing the same thing as Shang Yu?”
While listening, Shang Yu thought to himself: As expected, Yu Xiangwan always knows exactly what the audience is dying to know. He was impressed—and also curious—so he turned to look at Shen Xiu.
He himself had joined the family company right after graduation; it was the path already laid out for him. But what about Shen Xiu? What had his family planned for him?
Qin Mo was notoriously tight-lipped. Even though he and Qin Mo had met three times, he hadn’t been able to get even a single word out of him about Shen Xiu.
When he’d asked if Shen Xiu was really the “prince” of K Corp, Qin Mo had just smiled and said nothing.
Shen Xiu, hearing the question, didn’t hesitate at all before replying: “No.”
Shang Yu had mentioned in the group chat that after filming Storm, he returned to work at his family’s company.
Since Shen Xiu’s family didn’t have a company for him to work at, naturally, he wouldn’t be doing the same.
[I knew it. Xiu-baby has a mind of his own. Even if his family disagreed, they probably couldn’t change his decision.]
[Xiu-baby’s family… probably wouldn’t oppose him, right?]
[Agreed. Things are already at this stage—whatever Xiu-baby wants to do, his parents definitely support him.]
[I’m so envious of a family atmosphere built on mutual respect and understanding. No wonder they raised someone as good as Xiu-baby.]
…
Looking at the comments, Shen Xiu couldn’t help nodding in agreement. “Yeah, no one in my family is against it. I think… they support me.”
Growing up, no one in their family was very talkative. His parents had always supported whatever decision he made. And now that they couldn’t speak anymore, they certainly wouldn’t object.
Shen Xiu’s segment came to an end, and Yu Xiangwan turned the question back to Shang Yu: “Shang Yu, did your mom and dad go to see Storm?”
Shang Yu: “They’re very…”
…
At 10 a.m., the livestream ended.
Through this livestream, the Xiuologists learned that his parents were very supportive of his choices. Shen Xiu himself also stood firm in his decision: he wouldn’t inherit the family business after graduation and was very likely to continue working in the entertainment industry. For the fans, this was undoubtedly great news.
After watching the livestream, Jian Jiayu stared at the now-black screen. Thinking about Shen Xiu’s response, his brows furrowed so tightly they could crush a fly.
He muttered, “Is Shen Xiu out of his mind? Giving up his status as the crown prince of K Corp? Refusing to inherit a whole company just to keep being some actor in the entertainment industry? Does he really enjoy being someone’s entertainment that much?”
The manager: “…”
Seriously, who’s ever treated Shen Xiu as mere entertainment? Who would dare treat the God of Overachievement—someone who gives his all no matter what he does—as a joke? Everyone treats him like an idol to worship, okay? Can this artist please get a grip on reality?!
—
Storm continued its successful run in theaters, while Shen Xiu went about attending school as usual.
Without Ling Yuanzhen constantly picking fights or throwing shade, Shen Xiu’s campus life became much more peaceful.
Over a month later, Shen Xiu officially wrapped up his junior year, and summer vacation began.
During that month, Storm’s screenings remained wildly popular, with countless viewers going back for a second, third, even fifth watch.
Online, netizens continued to buzz with discussions about the story, cinematography, directing techniques, acting, and the luxurious sets of Storm.
All of it pointed to one thing—Storm was a true breakout hit, a dark horse dominating the summer box office.
But Shen Xiu had no time to care about any of that.
Because ever since summer break began—and after writing countless papers with nothing else to do—he started thinking about making a movie.
The system, upon realizing Shen Xiu was so bored that he wanted to make a movie just to keep himself busy, fell into an existential crisis.
More and more often, it found itself wondering:
Between Shen Xiu and it, who was really the tireless, workaholic system here?
While browsing through various novels in search of a suitable story to adapt into his own film, Shen Xiu received a phone call from Xuan Yushu one week after the end of summer break.
As the call connected, Xuan Yushu’s voice came through: “Shen Xiu, are you free next Wednesday?”
Not knowing what he was being asked to do, Shen Xiu replied a little nervously, “…Yes.”
Xuan Yushu said, “Get ready—next Wednesday, our Storm team is going abroad to attend the Teles Awards ceremony.”
An awards ceremony? Shen Xiu couldn’t help but think back to the Qingzhu Awards and quietly opened the notes in his laptop containing the thank-you speech he didn’t get to use last time. He asked, “Director Xuan, did I win an award?”
