Chapter 53: Free Cake
Their fandom was just too powerful. Xu Mingmei was both excited and strangely proud—the very first magazine had already broken entertainment industry records.
“But—”
The product page on the online store clearly stated that the first 30,000 orders would include a photocard and a poster, while orders after that would only get the poster.
Sales had already surpassed 300,000 copies before the store even crashed, and Xu Mingmei let out a mental wail: “My photocard—gone!”
But in the midst of the misfortune, there was a silver lining: this time R.E didn’t set a purchase limit, so once the store was back up, she should still be able to buy one with a poster at least.
Xu Mingmei shed two long noodle-like tears: “Next time there’s something time-sensitive to grab, I’m going to the bathroom beforehand.” A lesson paid in blood and tears.
With nothing to show for it, Xu Mingmei went back to the Super Topic to seek comfort.
There were plenty who managed to grab one—and just as many who didn’t. Both sides were screaming.
[Entertainment industry record, nailed it ]
[I had back-to-back classes this morning and was just one step too late. Can I still get one? Wuwuwu]
[Of course I had to support Moon’s first cover! Without the shipping cost, the number of copies I got matches Moon’s birthday—had to make it ceremonial ]
[As a student, I timed it just right and placed the order—I got the photocard ahhhhh!]
[What does the photocard even look like… I’m so jealous it feels like there are cockroaches crawling on me…]
[Ramdom question: does everyone prefer the “Fallen Moon” B version cover more? I just noticed the B version of Fallen Angel Yue is outselling the A version Priest Yue a bit—pet bonus effect maybe?]
[It’s not that Version A is bad, it’s just that Version B is both adorable and sexy as hell!!!]
[This time it’s a three-fanbase collab—total of 520 orders.
@MoonlightAntiRumorSquad @StarlightMoonSupportBlog @TidesAndMoonCandyShop]
[This round is actually a six-fanbase joint order…]
[Our overseas fanbase @moonzl_only_box reached out to @YueZhaolinTranslationBlog. After coordination and discussion, we’ve decided to arrange a group order…]
⋯⋯
Xu Mingmei kept scrolling down.
She wasn’t sure if the word “unity” was enough to describe the atmosphere in the Super Topic, but even just watching from the sidelines made her blood boil with excitement.
Just like last time when she chased the first public stage performance offline—her brain was running on overdrive.
Everyone… is amazing.
The rest of the day, certain people who’d been watching the sales with skepticism fell into silence, while the official account of 《R.E》 went on a frenzy, tweeting like a fish spawning eggs:
《R.E》:
[#YueZhaolinAprilCoverBreaksRecord# In one minute: Version A sells 120,000 copies, Version B over 130,000—record-breaking.]
At the same time, the official account posted a makeup reveal edit of “Priest Yue”—Yue Zhaolin opens his eyes in the mirror, the corners of his eyes lift slightly, oozing irresistible charm.
《R.E》:
[#YueZhaolinFirstREAppearanceSales# In one hour: Version A hits 230,000, Version B hits 250,000—another new record.]
This time, the video showed the shift between holiness and sin under dramatic lighting—like a pair of divine twins.
《R.E》: [#YueZhaolinMagazineSalesBreak30Million# In six hours: Version A sells 300,000, Version B 330,000—yet another record broken.]
The behind-the-scenes clip showed Yue Zhaolin being fitted with a pair of massive six white wings—so big and heavy that they had to cut open the back of the haute couture outfit just to get them on.
《R.E》:
[#YueZhaolinAprilIssueEndsOnAHigh# Within 24 hours: Version A sold 370,000 copies, Version B sold 390,000—another record broken.]
The behind-the-scenes clip featured “Priest Yue” luring the camera seductively under Etienne’s guidance—the priest tempting the angel to fall.
At the 24-hour mark, the final sales figure landed at 37 million yuan.
Tide devoured the content and felt thoroughly satisfied.
As for those feeling salty… all they could do was feel salty.
Cold, hard sales numbers were the loudest slap in the face. Any criticism at this point just reeked of jealousy.
And those sales weren’t just for show in the fandom—they were for the luxury brands choosing cover stars, and for the capital behind domestic entertainment—a testament to the purchasing power of Yue Zhaolin’s fanbase.
“From now on, Yue Zhaolin will never have trouble landing endorsements.”
Money talks—and capital loves money.
Luxury brands were no different. They, too, loved money.
That’s why in recent years, they’ve frequently been tapping traffic stars as short-term brand ambassadors—just to cash in.
But the trending topics weren’t filled with only supportive voices.
Comments like “entertainers ruin the country,” “brain-dead fans,” “fans turned into sentient vegetables” were on the rise.
Some people were clearly there to stir the pot.
But others… genuinely believed this kind of stuff.
[So much money, but you don’t spend it on your parents?]
[That makeup is thick as hell—he looks like the Heibai Wuchang. No masculinity at all. Why do women even like these girly-looking celebrities?]
[Where’d the money even come from?]
Shu Yang—who had been monitoring both the fandom and the sales—caught sight of a particularly irritating comment: A photo titled “Elderly person. Subway. Phone. JPG.”
He didn’t need to click the user’s profile to know: this was one of those “manly men” who thought the money fangirls spent should have been spent on him, and was clearly pressed about it.
Shu Yang immediately switched to an alt account and went on the attack—
Ever since he decided to make a living in the idol industry, he knew his livelihood would be funded by women.
Trash-talking the people who feed you?
Who could put up with that?!
After venting with full force, Shu Yang turned off his phone and got up—only to feel sharp pain in his thigh and waist. His legs nearly gave out, and he almost faceplanted.
“F**k…”
Chu Li’s choreography was intense. They had practiced all day yesterday and then put in extra training that night. Now Shu Yang woke up to sore wrists, a painful waist, and a burning back.
He hobbled out of the bathroom, limping unevenly, and saw Cen Chi, who had gone to join the Indulged performance group, bringing lunch for Yue Zhaolin.
Yue Zhaolin turned to look at him.
“What’s wrong?”
Shu Yang looked like he had something to say.
“Sigh, actually it’s nothing… okay, fine, I do have something to say.”
He lowered himself next to Yue Zhaolin, leaning on his wobbly legs.
He really thought Cen Chi was quite smart.
No matter how intense the fanbase drama got online, or how nasty the gossip was among the trainees, Cen Chi never distanced himself from Yue Zhaolin.
He wasn’t swayed by the fandom’s opinions.
Yue Zhaolin gave a little smile.
It was true.
Cen Chi had strategy—and strategy, in itself, is neutral.
But his way of playing the game was different from Meng Yu’s.
One fought for what he wanted; the other took shortcuts. Cen Chi was someone you could treat as a colleague. Meng Yu wasn’t.
Previously, when Meng Yu worked hard to grab screen time, Yue Zhaolin felt that was fair and expected.
What he didn’t agree with was Meng Yu trying to interfere with his song choices.
Of course, that was just his personal take—he didn’t say any of this to Shu Yang.
Instead, Yue Zhaolin casually twirled the stick in his hand into a flourish like a sword flower. He had tried on the wig earlier that morning—the company felt the silver was a bit too dark and wanted it to be even whiter.
While there were no cameras around, Shu Yang sighed and said thoughtfully:
“If we want to make money, we can’t go all-in with the fans or treat ourselves like we’re on the same battlefront. And don’t take everything the fanbase says seriously.”
For example, the currently trending “Yueology.”
It had been started by show fans, purely for the sake of nasty entertainment—truly vile.
They over-analyzed every frame and basically just made things up based on what they wanted to see, twisting everything out of context.
Even just a single look from Yue Zhaolin could be dissected as a side-eye, or interpreted as disdain.
The fanfiction-style meme “The Yue Family Courtyard Power Struggle” had become a running joke, and along with it, the character nicknames had evolved into something even more demeaning.
Meng Yu’s was by far the worst—he had gone from being called a “maid” to a “foot-washing servant.”
Shu Yang had heard that some trainees intentionally called him that in front of him, and Meng Yu’s expression… was not good.
Yue Zhaolin frowned. “When?”
“This morning, at the convenience store.”
Meng Yu’s ranking had dropped too quickly, and with his second performance also failing to lift him back up, some trainees were already eager to kick him while he was down.
In stark contrast stood Yue Zhaolin, whose magazine sales had just hit 37 million yuan.
He was already treated like a star among stars, and now the adoration around him had reached another level entirely.
Yue Zhaolin: “Hmm…”
He made a mental note to keep an eye on things.
After all, Meng Yu was the kind of person who could easily spiral into obsession.
Shu Yang: “Hey, where’s Tan Shen?”
Tan Shen had chosen the rap track 《007-5》.
No dancing, just writing lyrics—he was in his element.
He had even come to hang out with Yue Zhaolin during the lunch break.
But before Shu Yang came back, Tan Shen had been called away by the contestant coordinator.
It was the third time, actually. Yue Zhaolin guessed it might be a personal matter again?
And speak of the devil—
A staff member came to find Yue Zhaolin and said Tan Shen was looking for him.
Yue Zhaolin: “?”
Following the staff member, Yue Zhaolin arrived at a room.
As soon as he pushed the door open, he saw a space decorated wall-to-wall with birthday balloons and streamers.
Tan Shen was wearing a crown and holding a paper plate, live-streaming himself while munching on cake.
Ever since Yue Zhaolin’s “shit shoveler” vlog episode, the variety show Starlight: Live Diary had become an ongoing series, and they’d gone live again for Tan Shen’s birthday.
“You’re here?”
“It’s your birthday?”
Their voices overlapped.
Tan Shen, back facing the camera, winked and made a face:
“Mhm, it’s my birthday. The show gave me a cream cake—it’s actually pretty good. Wanna try?”
He wasn’t usually into cream, but even he thought this rare bite of sweetness was a delicacy—let alone someone with a normal appetite.
Since the cake was from the program and counted as a business expense, of course he was going to eat it. Free cake? No reason not to.
“…Happy birthday. Is there anything you want as a gift?”
Yue Zhaolin, catching a whiff of the sweet scent in the air, took a small piece of cake.
He tasted it with great care.
Tan Shen noticed he only took a tiny bit and looked like he wanted to say something—then swallowed the thought.
Still stuck in servant mode, huh. The other guy encouraged him to study, and now he wanted to encourage him to eat.
As for the birthday gift, what Tan Shen really wanted definitely wasn’t something he could say on a livestream—which was a pity.
“Come sit closer. Let’s do a mini eating stream. I can toss in some fan service for your fans while we’re at it.”
—
[Melon Group | Let’s eat melon]
Thread: Yue Zhaolin’s R.E April Issue — Final sales around ¥37.5 million. What does this mean?
[Original Post]
RT.
[2F]
“Star-dog” getting cocky again. Can y’all stop posting 800 threads in this forum about the same damn thing?
Trying to turn the Melon Group into a Zhaolin Group, are we?
[Comment removed]
[7F] Being serious: if none of that sales figure came from company buybacks, it’s the kind of number that translates into 20+ endorsements in the near future.
[12F] Forget the sales numbers—I still can’t wrap my head around R.E’s founder personally handling everything, from concept to photography.
A luxury brand being handled like this makes it feel low-class.
Totally ruins the prestige.
All to hype up this Yue Zhaolin kid—completely not worth it.
[23F] @Reply to 12F: That “ruined brand image” only exists in your dreams.
[28F] So the Star-dog really showed up, huh? That means you’re admitting this thread was just reverse-hype from your side?
[Comment removed]
[36F] Yue Zhaolin’s eating cake on livestream? I’m done. Did he know about the sales ahead of time?
He must be smug as hell right now. Can’t go out to celebrate, so he’s secretly flexing during the stream?
Typical “poor man suddenly rich” energy.
[45F] He’s not showing off—only dogs think that.
Anyone using that stupid slur should just disappear.
[57F] @36: Eat, eat, eat—go on and eat yourself into a pig.