Chapter 89.2: Gossip About the Spokesperson
Evening.
Shen Xiu returned to the hotel near his university that he had booked earlier. Lying on the bed with the light on, he stared blankly at the ceiling.
When he was at the cemetery’s storage area, there were so many things he wanted to say. But the staff were nearby, and he didn’t feel comfortable speaking. In the end, he had to hold it all in, eyes red, as he left in silence.
As for Shen Xiu wearing a hat and mask the entire time — the cemetery staff had worked there for decades and were used to the cold reality of death. As long as they were paid properly, they wouldn’t ask unnecessary questions.
Half of his short-term plans were now complete. Shen Xiu blinked in a daze.
It was only 9 p.m. — not yet time for him to sleep — but in his clear-headed state, he suddenly didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing.
His heart felt empty. He couldn’t muster the energy to do anything. He didn’t even want to think.
Finishing university properly, finding a way to make a movie…
These had been his goals for a long time — dreams that had taken root in his heart since his parents were still alive. In his limited lifetime, he would do his best to pursue them, step by step.
But aside from those, what else could he do to fill his time?
To keep himself from falling into a spiral of overthinking?
Recalling something his parents once said, Shen Xiu muttered to himself, “A home… right, I should have a home.”
After speaking aloud, he picked up his phone to check his bank balance, then looked at local housing prices — and promptly put the phone down, crushed.
A home…
Whether on a spiritual level or a material one, it really was expensive.
He wasn’t worthy of owning one just yet.
System: [Well, you know, your home is my home, and my home is your home. You get what I mean, right?]
The system was so kind — it was even offering to share its home with him. Shen Xiu felt guilty for ever suspecting it might use its abilities to do bad things.
“Thank you… but there’s no need.”
That place was worth a fortune. Even if the system dared to offer it, he didn’t dare to accept.
The system was so good to him — that was all the more reason he couldn’t take advantage of it.
System: [Then where are you going to live?]
Shen Xiu flipped through the calendar. “School’s about to start. I’ll live in the dorm.”
For just 350 yuan a year, he could have a four-person dorm room with air conditioning. Utilities only cost a few dozen yuan a month, split among four people. Where else could he find a deal like that?
System: […Alright, as long as you’re happy.]
It didn’t even dare to say more!
“Mm… Mm!”
Shen Xiu had just let out a muffled hum, but then something seemed to cross his mind. His tone lifted slightly, and with a sudden movement, he sat cross-legged on the bed.
The emptiness in his eyes vanished, replaced with a gleam of light.
System: [W-What is it?]
Shen Xiu: “I know what I want to do!”
System (confused): [Huh?]
Shen Xiu: “I want to have a home of my own.”
To get the home he wanted, he’d have to work even harder to earn money. Any time not spent studying or getting closer to his dream could now justifiably be filled with that purpose.
With a new goal ahead, he felt happy!
Shen Xiu lay back down, fully content, his expression peaceful.
Now, he finally didn’t feel so hollow inside.
System: […]
Even now, it still didn’t fully understand Shen Xiu’s thought process.
After lying peacefully for a few minutes, Shen Xiu suddenly opened his eyes, sat up quickly, and reached for his phone on the bedside table.
“I almost forgot to reach out!”
Good thing he remembered — that was close. He nearly missed an appointment!
Opening WeChat, Shen Xiu found the group chat that Xiang Yueting had pulled him into. He unmuted the conversation and scrolled up to check carefully, only to see that the eight people in the group had, at various times, all neatly tagged him one by one, asking why he hadn’t said anything.
Feeling guilty, Shen Xiu began typing a response.
[Group Chat]
Shen Xiu: Sorry, I had some things to take care of.
Xiang Yueting: Aaaaah, he’s here! @everyone
Xia Wenhao: Got it, are you done now?
Shen Xiu: Halfway there.
Ning Sinian: I’m busy too. Classes are painful. 😩
Mu Zhenchu: Wuwuwu I wish I were in pain. What made a grown man like me cry? It was my stupid brain back then!
Xiang Yueting: Have you guys started livestreaming yet? My fans are flooding my comments asking when I’m going live — I don’t even dare start a stream. What if they ask me to act out being chased by a husky? 😨
Mu Zhenchu: I want to go live, but… (shh, can’t talk about it) they won’t let me! If they keep controlling me like this, I’m gonna get crushed!
Shen Xiu: I haven’t had time to check Weibo. I’ll go take a look now. Good night.
Livestreaming?
Shen Xiu remembered the interview from when he left the training camp — and the promise he made to his fans. Worried he’d forget to switch back to WeChat if he got too caught up in Weibo, he said goodnight to the group in advance.
The others who weren’t active stayed silent, and those who had been chatting also said their goodnights. The group chat quieted down.
Staring at the screen, Shen Xiu waited until there were no more new messages before opening his Weibo account.
He had posted a few times before, so he roughly knew that fans would usually leave their comments under his most recent post.
As expected, when he opened his top post, he saw tons of new comments he hadn’t read before.
— Xiu-baby, when are you livestreaming? Not seeing you for even a day feels like a year. I miss you!
— Without Xiu-baby, how am I supposed to survive? (twists into a giant cockroach, chaotically rampages everywhere, terrifying countless people, so everyone ends up just as distraught as me)
— Help… I’m begging you, transform into something else already!
— Shang Yu streamed earlier today and said he didn’t see Xiu-baby. Where on earth has Xiu-baby gone, wuwuwu. Even if he just livestreams and chats with us about something worth fifty cents, that would be amazing! I’m so jealous of Shang Yu’s fans. Ugh! If other fandoms get something, we Xiuologists want it too!
After reading Weibo comments and private messages for more than ten minutes, Shen Xiu came to a conclusion: The fans want to see him. They want to talk to him.
This feeling—of being needed, of being thought about—went a long way in dispersing the uncertainty and helplessness in Shen Xiu’s heart.
Still riding the high of that warm realization, Shen Xiu suddenly noticed he had already typed and posted a new Weibo update.
@Shen Xiu: Thank you all for your concern. I’ll stream tomorrow night at 8 p.m.
— What is this?! (pulls out magnifying glass in disbelief and examines each word carefully) Ah, my Xiu-baby is inviting me to watch his stream! (puts away magnifying glass, whips out megaphone, confidently announces to the world) Sisters! Xiu-baby loves us!
— They say when you can’t forget someone, there will always be an echo. But with Xiu-baby, if you say it out loud enough, he’ll actually respond. As a proud Xiuologist, my heart is full. (lies down peacefully)
— (explodes into fireworks) See you there!
…
Looking at the comments below, Shen Xiu unconsciously forgot his earlier melancholy. He felt that there were more and more things he could do again, and he began to feel hopeful about the future.
Having promised everyone, Shen Xiu put away his phone and began seriously thinking about the livestream.
Streaming from the dormitory was out of the question—it would expose his roommates’ privacy.
Shen Xiu decisively downloaded a rental app. “I need to rent a place off-campus.”
System: [!]
[What rental app are you looking at? You’ve got a ready-made landlord right here!]
“You mean renting your place…”
System: [Not that villa. It’s an empty apartment downtown, only a ten-minute walk from Qinghe University. But it’s been vacant for years and has never been lived in. It only has basic furniture. Leaving it empty is a waste. Don’t you want to thank me? Then help me make some money—warm up the apartment for me!]
Thinking of his bank balance, Shen Xiu cautiously asked, “What’s the monthly rent?”
The system gave him a number. Shen Xiu quietly opened the rental app he had just downloaded, entered the location the system mentioned, and checked the neighborhood’s rental prices.
When he saw that the system’s quoted price wasn’t higher than the average rate, he was relieved.
“Thank you.”
Looks like he needed to work even harder to afford the system’s place.
System: [You’re welcome. No need to transfer money to me—I’ll do it myself.]
A second later, Shen Xiu received a bank notification—sure enough, one month’s rent had been deducted.
The money was transferred from one of Shen Xiu’s accounts to another, like a drop of water disappearing into the ocean—no splash at all. The system even worried it might mess up the transfer order.
The next day.
There was still some time before the burial date Shen Xiu had arranged with the cemetery. That morning, he left the hotel with his luggage, visited his parents at the cemetery again, and then, following the system’s guidance, took a bus to the apartment the system had told him about.
—
At the same time, Duan Mingfei had been waiting for two days and finally received news about the spokesperson for VG’s summer series.
Assistant Xiao Gong, having seen the gossip about VG, hurriedly knocked on the door and entered Duan Mingfei’s office.
“Brother Ming, a few marketing accounts have posted gossip about the VG summer series spokesperson. We don’t know if it’s true or not—take a look.”
The assistant handed the studio’s tablet to Duan Mingfei.
The gossip accounts had posted several screenshots of chat records.
The chat logs revealed that someone claiming to know insider information had told a gossip account that during a meal with Kaiser, Kaiser got drunk and revealed that the summer series spokesperson had already been decided—and that it was likely Shen Xiu, who debuted as the center of Youth Unstoppable.
— There hadn’t been any news for so long, and then suddenly it’s Shen Xiu? Honestly… his image and vibe do fit perfectly.
— Never heard of it. Don’t believe or spread rumors. I only trust Xiu-baby!
— Xiu-baby’s going live at 8 PM tonight. Why not just ask him in the livestream? All this guessing is exhausting!
“Shen Xiu?!” Duan Mingfei questioned reality.
“No way, absolutely no way!”
Shen Xiu had spent most of his time in the training camp, and he had only just come out a few days ago. He even said he was going to visit his parents—how could he have had time to meet Kaiser?
If he remembered correctly, Kaiser had been abroad during the days Shen Xiu was out of training camp.
Assistant: “Shen Xiu has a livestream at 8 PM tonight. Want to tune in?”
Though Duan Mingfei wasn’t keen on watching Shen Xiu’s livestream, he had to admit—Shen Xiu wasn’t the type to lie. If something was true, he would say it was; if not, he’d say no.
Whether it was a rumor or the truth, watching Shen Xiu’s livestream would definitely give them the answer.
“Mm.” Duan Mingfei responded with a grim expression.
—
The moment the gossip surfaced, Xiang Yueting had already sent the link to the group chat.
[Group Chat]
Xiang Yueting: Is this fr fr?
Song Chengwang: Speak like a human.
Shang Yu: Confirmed true.
Xiang Yueting: ?
Zhuang Yi: ?
Ning Sinian: ?
Jiang Yanxi: I get it now. Could this be what Shen Xiu meant when he said he was busy?
Shang Yu: Nope, it was decided a while ago.
Mu Zhenchu: I can’t hold it in anymore—Shang Yu, why do you know everything?!
Xiang Yueting: +111111
Ning Sinian: Wait, where’s Shen Xiu? Don’t tell me he’s signing the contract right now?
Song Chengwang: Smart people already tried calling—his phone’s off.
Shen Xiu, worried about not having enough to talk about during his livestream, decided to scroll through fan comments to see what everyone was curious about. He ended up reading so late he didn’t even know when he fell asleep—and forgot to charge his phone.
No one really called Shen Xiu that often anyway. It wasn’t unusual for him to go a whole month without making a single phone call.
So when his phone automatically shut off in his pocket, Shen Xiu didn’t even notice.
At noon, Shen Xiu finally returned from the cemetery and arrived at the apartment rented to him by the system.
The two security guards at the gate hadn’t been working there long—only about a year—but they could recognize most of the residents by height and appearance just from how often they came and went.
So when they saw a tall young man at the gate wearing a black T-shirt, casual pants, a baseball cap, and a mask, they were completely baffled.
Who was this? With such a distinctive vibe and that height, there was no way they’d forget if they’d seen him before. But neither of them had.
Rounding up the details—couldn’t see his face and completely unfamiliar—he was, for all intents and purposes, a total stranger.
This high-end complex used facial recognition to unlock the gates for residents—no need for a key or access card.
Adhering to the principle of ensuring residents’ safety, the two security guards exchanged a glance. One of them opened the door of the security booth, intending to walk over to Shen Xiu and ask about the situation.
But just as the door opened, the gate’s facial recognition system activated and unlocked automatically.
Seeing the resident info appear on the booth’s screen, the guard still inside stopped the one who was about to step out. “No need to go—he’s a resident from Area A. Not a stranger.”
