Chapter 43: Arm Wrestle
The next day.
While Yue Zhaolin continued his cover shoot, gossip bloggers—summoned by the power of money—uploaded their overnight-edited videos to all major platforms.
The captions included not only the clash between the danmei CP fans and the high-fashion founder but also a recap of the previous drama: “The Haute Couture Storm” as performed in the gossip forum.
— First mocking Yue Zhaolin for wearing an unclaimed domestic luxury brand, then popping champagne halfway through, only to be slapped in the face, and finally silenced after a breakdown.
Why is it considered a recap?
Because after being slapped in the face, the once-quiet gossip forum began to fall into a civil war.
[Those who mocked Yue Zhaolin aren’t real meloners, okay? Don’t lump us all together—we didn’t do anything shameful.]
[Those people are danmei CP fans. They took over the Melon Group just because there are a lot of them. Real meloners actually look down on washed-up domestic entertainment stars.]
[Recognize some of those usernames in that thread? Since when did diehard fans of Old Fart and Old Shen become CP fans? They sure throw mud like pros.]
[Oh? So that high-and-mighty actor who looks down on danmei dramas is wearing haute couture now?]
In short, it became a war of mutual attacks and hitting each other’s sore spots, and the whole scene turned pretty ugly.
One blogger even dug up screenshots from the first livestream discussion thread of Starlight, showing that CP fans had already been preparing for battle and were the ones to provoke the fight first.
Melon-eating blogger:
“At this point, everyone should see the bigger picture. The CP fans drawn in by the danmei drama ‘Zhuang Zhou Meng Die’—let’s call them the ‘Zhuangzhou Sisters’—already had a grudge against Yue Zhaolin, which is why they stirred things up in the gossip forum.”
“You’re probably wondering—Yue Zhaolin didn’t do anything, so why does he attract so much hate? One simple reason: the more popular you are, the more drama follows.”
“This is the pie chart of the total voting pool from the talent show Yue Zhaolin participated in.”
“Take Yue Zhaolin’s vote count, divide it by twelve, then multiply it by twenty — the result roughly equals the total number of votes cast by his fans (Tide).”
“His votes made up 80% of the entire voting pool. You could say Yue Zhaolin carried the vote pool all by himself.”
“The size of the pie in domestic entertainment is only so big. If you were in their shoes, wouldn’t you feel threatened?”
Gossip-loving netizens first nodded in agreement, then chimed in: “This kind of tea that’s backed with real data? Delicious. Absolutely satisfying!”
Gossip blogger:
“Alright, now that we’ve covered the recap, let’s focus on the juiciest part of the melon—
‘On the topic of CP fans trying to go head-to-head, only to kick an iron wall and get hit with a harsh dose of reality, then immediately go silent and delete their accounts’.”
“Honestly, you can’t really blame them for being overconfident. After all, this is a first for domestic entertainment too.”
The blogger then posted a screenshot of a Weibo post showing a girl posing in a photo with Etienne (usernames and avatars were heavily blurred, of course).
“Everyone, look — the foreigner in this photo is one of the central figures in this whole drama, Étienne Delorme.”
They then gave a quick explainer: R.D. is one of the 59 official members of the French Haute Couture Federation.
“The other girl in the photo? Just an ordinary fan. Her caption said Etienne told her he came to China because of Yue Zhaolin.”
“And the haute couture outfit Yue Zhaolin wore? It’s one of Etienne’s unreleased pieces.”
“And furthermore…”
As the gossip blogger continued their detailed breakdown, netizens came away with a few deeply ingrained takeaways:
Yue Zhaolin is really popular in domestic entertainment.
Not only do designers love him, he’s also genuinely popular overseas — first to wear unreleased haute couture, and Etienne’s Instagram post got hundreds of thousands of likes.
Yue Zhaolin’s fandom, called Tide, is active, rich, and extremely powerful — with a vote pool that’s leagues ahead of the rest.
This was exactly the goal of Xingqiong’s marketing strategy.
—
Liu Li glanced at the comment section—just as expected, the public sentiment was right on track.
The sound of a camera shutter clicked in her ears, followed by Etienne’s voice:
“Moon, look at me. Yes, tilt your chin back a little more.”
Yue Zhaolin tilted his chin back—only to get gently butted by the little goat’s horn.
The box wasn’t large. Inside it were: one person, one small goat, and three twisted, black-and-red wings—cramped, to say the least.
He shifted his posture slightly.
Because today’s theme was “battle-damaged,” his makeup was heavier and sharper than yesterday’s. No need to smile for the camera, but the eyes had to speak.
“Baa.”
The little goat let out a soft bleat and squirmed slightly in Yue Zhaolin’s arms—but it wasn’t strong, just a docile little thing.
Originally, Liu Li had planned to include the black cat in the shoot too—after all, in Western culture, black cats (along with goats) are also symbols of evil.
But the animal hospital that took in the black cat had given it a rather poor review.
It was a strong, unneutered male under one year old. While waiting for a check-up, it had darted like lightning and attacked the ginger cat in the neighboring cage.
Absolutely feral.
Out of safety concerns, Liu Li didn’t want Yue Zhaolin to interact with it—nor risk stressing the cat further. It was a pity, but there was no helping it.
“Moon, look at me.”
“Arrogance. I want that arrogant look in your eyes. Even if you’re wounded, you remain proud. Give it to me.”
…
“Perfect!”
By the time Etienne finally captured the cover shot he wanted, a long while had passed—after all, the frame didn’t just contain a human, but animals too.
Photographing animals is far harder than people. It takes immense patience and the ability to capture the perfect moment in a flash.
When the shoot was over, Yue Zhaolin let out a sigh of relief. Holding that pose had been exhausting.
“Perfect!”
Etienne smiled as he spoke.
He transferred the photos and displayed them on the computer, going through the most perfect shot with Yue Zhaolin, offering him unabashed praise.
Yue Zhaolin was briefly stunned when he saw himself on the screen, then smiled.
“Etienne, thank you for taking such a beautiful photo of me.”
Etienne smiled wistfully.
“Oh, darling, this is what I should do. But happy moments are always too short—we’re about to part ways.”
“If your show would allow you time off, I’d invite you to Paris to attend Fashion Week with me.”
Unfortunately, he couldn’t go.
Yue Zhaolin’s schedule was full—Starlight still had an entire list of activities waiting for him.
After saying goodbye to Etienne, he removed his makeup, changed clothes, showered, and got into the van headed back to the Starlight building—by the time all that was done, an hour had passed.
Liu Li said, “We’ll stop by the pet hospital first and shoot some footage of you interacting with the cat. Go ahead and lie down for now—I’ll wake you when we get there.”
They couldn’t take a photo together, but filming a vlog with the cat behind a cage should be fine.
Yue Zhaolin: “Okay.”
—
By the time Yue Zhaolin wrapped up all the filming and wearily returned to the dorm, it was already past 6 PM. All three of his roommates were there.
After greeting them, Yue Zhaolin changed clothes and headed to the practice room. He hadn’t trained much these past couple of days, so he definitely needed to catch up.
Chu Li called out, “Zhaolin, want to go together?”
Everyone knew Yue Zhaolin had been out for work lately—it wasn’t a secret. Chu Li was the first to show extra enthusiasm.
He was upfront but not overbearing, so no one found him annoying.
Chu Li’s open friendliness, in truth—
Was all for the money.
Chu Li had also taken a leave from school to join the talent show—for money. His goal was to build a fanbase and then pivot into acting in period romance dramas.
He wanted fast money, was willing to be a puppet for capital, and with no powerful backing, his looks were actually a great fit for costume dramas. The investors were more than happy to support someone like that.
Now that Yue Zhaolin was about to soar to stardom, as his roommate, Chu Li gritted his teeth—if he could ride the wave, then why not? It was all for his own future.
But he wasn’t trying to start a CP rumor with Yue Zhaolin—that would be short-sighted.
Instead, he was aiming to build a good relationship. If Yue Zhaolin casually mentioned his name after the show, or maybe visited the set when Chu Li eventually acted in a period drama…
Wouldn’t that be a huge win?
When Chu Li suggested going together, Cen Chi agreed too. Even Meng Yu, who had recently been getting scolded online, weighed the pros and cons and decided the benefits outweighed the risks.
It was the first time all four roommates of dorm 504 went out together.
When they arrived at the practice room Yue Zhaolin usually used, Chu Li reached for the door but paused in surprise.
“Huh? It’s locked?”
Practice rooms usually weren’t locked.
Cen Chi went off to find a staff member to get the key. He had just left, not even thirty seconds later, when the door suddenly opened from the inside, startling Chu Li.
He had checked earlier and seen only darkness through the gap—he thought no one was inside.
A staff member wearing an employee badge stepped out. “The ceiling camera in this room is broken. You’ll have to use a different room.”
Chu Li: “Alright.”
Yue Zhaolin glanced at the staffer. He was wearing a mask, so his face wasn’t visible.
Just then, the man happened to look up, meeting Yue Zhaolin’s eyes. His gaze flickered, then quickly dropped as he walked away in haste.
That look in his eyes?
Yue Zhaolin suddenly thought of the staff member Tan Shen had mentioned—the one with suspicious behavior. He had seen that person’s photo before and was certain it was the same man.
And that unsettling stare…
It felt all too familiar.
At the same time, Chu Li also caught that look in the man’s eyes. His eyelid twitched—it felt eerily familiar.
—Maybe it was because of his own soft, striking looks that Chu Li often attracted the wrong kind of attention from men. That gaze… was all too similar to what he’d seen before.
“Zhaolin, that guy—?”
Yue Zhaolin met Chu Li’s eyes, and in an instant, they were on the same wavelength: “We need to report this.”
Selection managers were the ones who had the most direct contact with contestants. For everyone’s safety, any potential threat had to be removed from that position.
Chu Li immediately reached out to a familiar selection manager, who quickly contacted her superior and told the two of them to come upstairs with her.
As the three headed toward the elevator, a figure suddenly sprang out from around the corner—it was that same staff member.
His breathing was heavy.
“Zhaolin, weren’t you going to practice? Why are you going this way?”
“The restroom isn’t in this direction either. Where are you all going?”
The female selection manager stayed calm and steady.
“This has nothing to do with you. Have you finished your tasks? Are you leaving your post? That’s a deduction in your performance review.”
But the man was clearly lost in his own delusions.
“You’re going to report me again, aren’t you? If I get reported again, I’ll lose this job.”
“This job—my parents went through so much trouble to pull strings and get it for me. I’m begging you, please, don’t tell the supervisor.”
Tears started welling up in his eyes, soaking through his mask as he pleaded over and over.
Yue Zhaolin looked at him and asked, “When you went through my bag before—what were you trying to do?”
“……”
The man, who had been putting on a pitiful act, suddenly changed his tone.
“Zhaolin, you can’t ruin my job. If you do, I don’t know what I might do.”
“I’m my family’s only child—the only one they’ve got.”
He took a step forward.
“Zhaolin…”
The female manager’s eyes widened as she shouted, “What do you think you’re doing?!”
Just then, the security guards summoned by the supervisor arrived and quickly subdued the man. He was pinned to the ground, letting out a blood-curdling scream like a pig being slaughtered.
“Zhaolin, please forgive me! I promise I won’t do it again! I’m begging you…”
In the span of just two minutes, this man had cycled through three different personas: moral coercion, threats, and finally pitiful pleading as he was dragged away.
Chu Li: “…He’s a face-changing master. Good thing we caught him early. Imagine someone like that lurking around us—creepy as hell. Just thinking about it makes me lose sleep tonight.”
The man was taken away, but the matter wasn’t over.
Later, the production team found a small pile of used disposable towels and plastic water bottles in his dorm.
According to his own confession—
…they had all been used by Yue Zhaolin.
He insisted that he only planned to steal them and sell them to sasaeng fans.
—
That night, Chu Li learned firsthand what it meant to “speak things into existence”—he really didn’t sleep well.
Yue Zhaolin, on the other hand, slept like a rock. Dreamless, restful, and completely at ease.
But…
That afternoon was the first elimination recording, and since the morning schedule was free, Yue Zhaolin made his way to the practice room as usual.
However, whether he went to get water or buy a rice ball, a few tails followed behind him. Not to the point of being glued to his side, but their presence was very obvious.
Yue Zhaolin sighed: “When did you all plan this—and even rotated shifts?”
The earlier shift had been Cen Chi and Chu Li. This one was Tan Shen and Fu Xunying.
Tan Shen: “We planned it last night.”
Fu Xunying: “Even though that guy’s gone, he worked here for a while. It’s safer to move around in groups.”
Yue Zhaolin stopped in his tracks, nearly causing Tan Shen behind him to bump into his back.
Yue Zhaolin asked, “Aren’t you all treating this like a war zone a little too seriously?”
“Let’s arm wrestle.”
Tan Shen: “?”
Fu Xunying: “?”
—Five minutes later—
Fu Xunying, who didn’t last even two seconds before being slammed down: “……”
Why does it feel like he’s even stronger than when he was a trainee?
Tan Shen, who was launched in under a second: “……”
Alright, he’s officially proven that Yue Zhaolin could take down ten veteran idols with one punch.
…
When the two arrived at the recording site, their arms were still trembling slightly. Wei Lai took one look at them and asked, “What happened to you two?”
Tan Shen: “Nothing. My muscles are… cramping.”
“You too, Brother Fu?”
“…Yeah. Muscle cramp.”
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