Chapter 95.1: Yulin Banxia
“You might not believe it when I say this, but I—”
Shi Buwen hadn’t even finished his sentence when Shang Yu interrupted him.
“I believe you.”
The moment Shi Buwen opened his mouth, Shang Yu already knew what he was going to say next.
Shi Buwen: “…”
Staring at the still-connected call, Shang Yu was puzzled.
“What are you still standing around for? As the chief director of the show, you should hang up and go tell Shen Xiu about this.”
Instead of wasting time here talking to him.
He and Shen Xiu were teammates, and Shen Xiu was even their group leader. It would be inappropriate for any of the team members to handle this matter directly with Shen Xiu.
The only suitable person for this was someone from the production team.
Shi Buwen had volunteered to take care of it himself. Now that Shang Yu looked at it, he’d say Shi Buwen had done a great job—
So great that Shang Yu sincerely hoped he wouldn’t volunteer again next time.
Beep—beep—beep…
Watching the call finally end, Shang Yu let out a breath of relief.
Given the time, with Shen Xiu’s personality, he was probably still grinding away, not taking a break. Shi Buwen should be able to talk it through with him.
The live broadcast to decide the group name was Shi Buwen’s own idea.
Since leaving the training camp, among the team’s nine members, only Shen Xiu had maintained significant popularity. The others’ popularity had dropped rapidly.
Not that Shen Xiu would care about popularity in the first place. As for Shang Yu himself and Song Chengwang, neither of them cared whether they had any attention after debut either.
Because Shen Xiu could do everything, had everything, and whatever he did didn’t matter.
And both he and Song Chengwang had their own backup plans waiting.
But the others were different. If they didn’t appear in the public eye soon, their popularity would fall even faster.
—
Answering the phone—especially answering a call from someone you’re a little scared of—is mentally exhausting for someone with social anxiety.
Shen Xiu ended the call with Shi Buwen and, without a second of hesitation, decided to shut off his phone and recharge his energy.
He headed straight to the study, watched a classic old film, and wrote a 3,000-character analysis to ease his nerves.
By the time he came out of the study, his hair had already dried completely—without needing a blow dryer.
All the energy drained from the phone call had been fully replenished through writing that film review. Shen Xiu lay down on his grey-toned bed sheets, pulled up the matching thin quilt, and fell asleep in seconds.
—
In the middle of the night, Jiang Jinya—who had sneakily stayed up late to watch an antique appraisal livestream behind her kid’s back—noticed an email notification pop up on her phone. Curious, she tapped it open, and upon seeing the sender, the corner of her eye twitched slightly.
It was already 1:30 in the morning.
Who in their right mind is still up at this hour writing movie reviews and submitting assignments to their professor?!
Seeing several emails in a row, all from Shen Xiu, Jiang Jinya couldn’t help but find it laughable that she had once thought Shen Xiu might become obsessed with being an idol.
Like this—there wasn’t even a trace of someone obsessed with idol life!
If anyone ever dared to tell her again that Shen Xiu wasn’t serious about his studies and only wanted to chase money in the entertainment industry, she wouldn’t even bother to sneer.
—
After hanging up on Shang Yu, Shi Buwen immediately and eagerly dialed Shen Xiu’s number.
Only to be met with an automated message: The number you are trying to reach is powered off.
Shi Buwen didn’t think much of it, assuming Shen Xiu’s phone had probably run out of battery. He figured it would turn back on once it was charged, so he played mobile games while waiting for it to happen.
However…
After every match, he would try calling Shen Xiu again.
This continued until midnight—still no answer.
“I can just ask him in the morning, same difference.”
Muttering to himself, Shi Buwen remained completely unbothered by the failed attempts to reach Shen Xiu. He tossed his phone onto the nightstand and, with a clear conscience, fell asleep in an instant.
—
The Next Day.
At 7 a.m., Shen Xiu powered on his phone, put on his essential anti-social jogging gear—noise-canceling headphones—started playing a narrated article to block out all external sounds and social interaction, slipped his phone into his pocket, and left for his morning run on time.
By 7:30 a.m., jogging along the riverside in a baseball cap, Shen Xiu felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. The narration in his headphones cut off. His body froze instantly, and he stopped in his tracks, standing by the river.
In the few short seconds it took to pull his phone out and check the caller ID, Shen Xiu’s heart was already pounding in his throat.
Seeing the call was from Xiang Yueting, Shen Xiu let out a huge sigh of relief.
Now about 50% immune to Xiang Yueting, Shen Xiu answered the call.
The next second, Xiang Yueting’s familiar voice came through the line—
“Shen Xiu, where are you right now?”
“Where do you live?”
“We’re all at Director Shi’s place, waiting for him to finish washing up.”
“Director Shi told us to call you and see if we can come to your place to livestream and discuss the group name. Is that okay?”
“If you’re cool with it, just send us your location and we’ll head over now.”
Even though everyone was used to how fast and nonstop Xiang Yueting could talk, the sheer speed and volume of his words still made the others in the room glance sideways.
Xiang Yueting’s mouth… was really something else. And he wasn’t even remotely afraid of being rejected by Shen Xiu—he spoke so cheerfully!
The barrage of words hitting him like a machine gun gave Shen Xiu a wave of that all-too-familiar, oxygen-deprived lightheadedness. After a few seconds to recover, he moved his dry throat and answered, one by one:
“I’m by the river.”
“I’m temporarily renting a place at Yulin Banxia.”
“Group name?” When he got to this part, Shen Xiu was clearly confused.
If he remembered correctly, wasn’t the group name supposed to be announced along with the debut album?
Now they wanted to discuss it on a livestream—did that mean they planned to reveal it early?
No…
Shen Xiu quickly recalled the production team’s wildly unpredictable decisions back at the training camp and immediately dismissed his own guess.
Knowing how they operated, things were never that straightforward.
On the other end, Xiang Yueting had left the call on speakerphone, so all eight people in the room could clearly hear Shen Xiu’s voice.
His initial responses were cool and calm—but when it came to the question about livestreaming at his place, Shen Xiu suddenly went silent.
“?”
That sudden silence—did it mean he was refusing?
With the speaker still on, no one dared to speak. The group exchanged glances in quiet, uneasy communication.
According to Shang Yu, ever since leaving the training camp, Shen Xiu hadn’t gone back to the villa he’d used before. Probably because too many people knew about that place, and Shen Xiu wasn’t comfortable with that anymore.
Wherever Shen Xiu was living now was likely even more of a long-term residence. Given his notoriously strong territorial awareness, it was completely reasonable if he didn’t want visitors.
This unexpected silence seemed to confirm that.
Though the pause was brief, it created a tense, suffocating atmosphere.
Among everyone here, it was generally assumed that Xiang Yueting was the most familiar with Shen Xiu, so all eyes naturally turned to him.
Xiang Yueting, still intently waiting for Shen Xiu’s answer, noticed everyone staring at him and blinked in confusion.
“Huh? What’s wrong?”
The seven others: “…”
Sometimes, being a little slow on the uptake wasn’t the worst thing.
For example, while they were all practically holding their breath from the tension of Shen Xiu’s silence, Xiang Yueting was still off in his own world.
Hearing Xiang Yueting’s voice brought Shen Xiu back from his thoughts, where he’d been analyzing the production team’s true intentions.
Assuming Xiang Yueting was urging him for an answer, Shen Xiu quickly responded, “Sure.”
The system had told him the place was his to use however he wanted.
So if he wanted to bring his teammates over for the first time to hang out—why not?
Thinking this through, Shen Xiu felt a mix of nerves and subtle anticipation rise in his chest.
“I’ll send you the location right away.”
“Got it! I’m waiting for it!”
Even through his headphones, Shen Xiu could sense Xiang Yueting’s delight—he could practically picture the ever-curved corners of Xiang Yueting’s smiling mouth as he spoke.
After hanging up, Xiang Yueting’s tone lifted cheerfully as he announced, “Shen Xiu agreed~”
Xia Wenhao scoffed, “You had it on speaker. We all heard.”
Ning Sinian sighed in admiration, “No matter how many times I witness it, you really are fearless.”
Zhuang Yi nodded in agreement. “Honestly, during those few seconds of silence, I had already braced myself for Shen Xiu to turn us down. But he actually agreed! What a pleasant surprise.”
Song Chengwang couldn’t resist joining in either: “I’m guessing that silence was him hesitating—wondering if he should let us come over. But even after careful thought, he still said yes. That just goes to show again how much Shen Xiu values us.”
After saying that, Song Chengwang instinctively glanced toward Mu Zhenchu.
The meaning behind his words was clear: “So yeah, we’re all brothers here.”
Meeting Song Chengwang’s gaze, Mu Zhenchu quickly looked away, clearly a bit uneasy.
Truth be told, the gap between him and the rest of them did feel like a mile wide. He genuinely didn’t feel comfortable opening up.
Under the table, Shang Yu kicked Song Chengwang lightly—not everyone could be as relaxed and easygoing as Song Chengwang, Xia Wenhao, and Xiang Yueting.
Shang Yu had experience with this. Breaking out of your own defensive shell couldn’t be forced—it had to be voluntary.
Changing the subject smoothly, Shang Yu smiled and called out toward the bathroom, “Director Shi, are you done dragging your feet yet? If not, we’ll go ahead and head over—you can catch up later.”
A muffled voice came from inside, toothbrush still in mouth: “Almost done…”
Xiang Yueting whispered a reminder to Shang Yu, “Talking to the director like that? He’s really good at stirring things up—you got a death wish or something?”
Song Chengwang’s mouth twitched. “Xiang Yueting, I’m starting to think your eyes really are different from ours.”
Ever since Shang Yu had effortlessly brought them into Shi Buwen’s house, it was obvious—even without using your brain—that this wasn’t his first time there. Clearly, there was more to his relationship with Shi Buwen than met the eye.
Besides, this was Shang Yu they were talking about—someone with more schemes up his sleeve than both him and Xiang Yueting combined. Who was b*llying who, really?
Xiang Yueting huffed. “I hate it when you guys talk like this—saying stuff that makes no sense! I’m waiting for Shen Xiu’s location. Not talking to you anymore.”
With that, he locked eyes on his phone.
A few seconds after Shen Xiu ended the call and took a moment to compose himself, he sent his location to Xiang Yueting…
“It’s here!” The moment the location came through, Xiang Yueting lit up with excitement. “Let me take a look look at where Shen Xiu lives!”
Shang Yu raised a hand to rub his forehead. “Yulin Banxia.”
Didn’t they already say that on the phone? Not only was Xiang Yueting’s eyesight questionable, but apparently his hearing wasn’t great either.
Just as Shang Yu finished speaking, they heard Xiang Yueting’s confused voice: “Huh? By the river?”
He looked up at Shang Yu.
“Didn’t you say it was Yulin Banxia?”
