Chapter 103: …Pull You Out of Qinghe?
“!”
When Jiang Wan turned around, Shen Xiu instinctively straightened his back and sat up stiffly.
At the very moment Jiang Wan turned, Shen Xiu happened to look up. Meeting his familiar, cold, and sharp eyes made Jiang Wan so nervous that she blurted out what she had been hesitating to say for quite a while.
“Shen Xiu, can I have your autograph…?”
Even though they had known each other for a long time, worked together on group assignments, and she was even a Xiuologist, now Shen Xiu was here in person—offstage, not in a livestream. Making such a request for an autograph face-to-face still made Jiang Wan nervous.
‘An autograph?’
‘That’s all? Scared me to death… Wait, his autograph?’
Shen Xiu was a little dazed.
Although he knew idols were supposed to give autographs to fans, he hadn’t even released his first group album yet. Was his autograph even worth anything? Was he even qualified to give someone an autograph?
“If you want one… sure.”
Feeling unworthy of giving out autographs, Shen Xiu replied with clear hesitation.
“Thank you!”
Jiang Wan’s eyes lit up instantly. Without even turning her head, she reached behind and placed a pre-prepared pen and paper on Shen Xiu’s desk in just a second.
Sitting beside Jiang Wan, Lu Zhiqiu, upon hearing Jiang Wan’s success, also gathered her courage and asked, “Could you give me one too?”
Shen Xiu’s hand holding the pen stiffened. “Sure.”
“Thank you!” Lu Zhiqiu also took out her own pre-prepared autograph sheet.
After signing two autographs in a row, Shen Xiu felt a rising sense of anxious urgency, thinking he hadn’t yet reached the level where he deserved to be giving out signatures.
Jiang Wan and Lu Zhiqiu, delighted with their autographs, thanked Shen Xiu once more. After awkwardly replying “You’re welcome,” Shen Xiu remained uneasy even after they turned back around.
Tap tap tap…
From outside the hallway came the familiar sound of high heels striking the floor. Shen Xiu looked toward the door in confusion.
Why was it Professor Jiang and not their homeroom teacher, Teacher Xu?
Just as Shen Xiu wondered this, Jiang Jinya walked into the Film & Media Studies (Class 2) classroom.
“Professor Jiang?!”
“Where’s Teacher Xu?”
Although Jiang Jinya was technically a professor, students at school usually just called their instructors “teacher.” Few ever addressed someone as “professor.”
Standing at the podium, Jiang Jinya swept her gaze over the class. Her eyes paused for a second on Shen Xiu, who was sitting at the very back. Then she answered the students’ questions.
“Teacher Xu’s flight was delayed and hasn’t landed yet. She asked me to help take over for a bit.”
After speaking, she took attendance and confirmed that everyone was present.
Then she looked at Shen Xiu and said, “Take the other three boys from our class and go bring in the books.”
Shen Xiu stood up. “Okay.”
There were only four boys in the class—that was Shen Xiu and his three dormmates.
Shen Xiu didn’t even need to call them. As soon as he stood up, the other two roommates got up too, falling in step behind him with practiced ease.
Ling Yuanzhen had been waiting for Shen Xiu to call him. When he saw the other two sycophants follow Shen Xiu without being asked, he felt a bit irritated but still stood up and silently tagged along.
Jiang Jinya glanced at her watch and then said to the remaining students in the classroom, “Once Shen Xiu and the others bring the books back, let Shen Xiu hand them out. After that, have him come to the office to get me.”
“Got it, Professor Jiang~”
Once Jiang Jinya left the room, the air of pressure from her presence lifted, and the classroom erupted in playful chatter.
“Hahaha, I bet Teacher Xu never expected her flight to get delayed. Next time she scolds us for cutting it close to class, we can say she cut it close flying to school!”
“You’re only saying that now. Once Teacher Xu comes back, you won’t even dare make a sound.”
“They always say when you go to the hospital and can’t get an appointment with a top specialist, it’s fine to see a new doctor—because their mentors are senior experts, department heads, even hospital directors. If the new doctor can’t figure something out, they can always consult their teacher—and you don’t even have to pay extra. I didn’t expect our teacher could also ‘call in backup,’ and the one she called in was a professor!”
“Professor Jiang is Teacher Xu’s teacher. What’s so strange about that?”
—
At this time of day, most students were in their classrooms, with only a few from each class called out to help carry books.
The hallway was narrow—two boys could walk side by side comfortably, but adding a third would make it crowded. Ahead of Shen Xiu was a group of students also on their way to move books. Shen Xiu and his three roommates silently followed behind them.
“Ah, my poor tragic Black Moonlight Demon Lord, Li Yang!”
“Immortal Path is truly a masterpiece. Even the villains are rich in character. The ensemble cast is phenomenal. It’s just a shame—the production company they signed with is trash. The crew is subpar. The actors they wanted were unaffordable, and the ones they could afford didn’t fit the image or vibe at all—on top of that, their acting sucked.”
“Even though Immortal Path is amazing, even though Li Yang is such an iconic character, it’s a web drama. That already dooms it to being low-budget and sloppy. Unless there’s some kind of miracle… but clearly, there isn’t. There’s been no updates at all—it’s safe to say the miracle’s not happening.”
“Sigh, what a shame. Such a brilliant work, but it didn’t get the reliable production team it deserved. If I had the money, I’d invest in it myself, direct it, and make it properly.”
The people talking ahead were from the neighboring Film & Media Studies (Class 3). Their voices weren’t quiet, and even with a few people between them, Shen Xiu could hear everything clearly.
Immortal Path? Li Yang?
Shen Xiu instantly thought of the private message he had received on Weibo.
Was Immortal Path really that good—so good that his own classmates wanted to invest in making it themselves?
Shen Xiu was a little curious, but the people ahead had already stopped talking about it and switched topics to video games.
Just as his curiosity had been piqued from eavesdropping, the conversation was abruptly cut off. Shen Xiu felt a slight sense of regret and furrowed his brows slightly.
Ling Yuanzhen had just managed to squeeze his way up next to Shen Xiu. He hadn’t even brushed against him, but when he turned his head and saw Shen Xiu frowning at that very moment, his body stiffened.
“……”
‘Damn. He hates me so much he even frowns just walking beside me?’
The people behind had no idea what was going on with Ling Yuanzhen and simply walked around him and continued on their way.
Ling Yuanzhen stood there frozen for a moment, realizing that even if he stopped moving, none of his roommates would bother to call him. His face darkened several times before he gritted his teeth and caught up.
—
About ten minutes later, Shen Xiu and the others returned to the classroom with the books. After handing them out, Shen Xiu—reminded by a few classmates—went to Professor Jiang Jinya’s office to call her back.
When Jiang Jinya saw Shen Xiu enter, she pointed to a stack of papers on her desk and said, “The film analysis you wrote over the break has been graded. Take it back and read through the comments.”
Jiang Jinya couldn’t stare at a computer screen for long, so she had a habit of printing everything out and marking it up by hand.
“Once you’re done reading, no need to revise it again. Just submit it. As long as you know where you stand, that’s enough.”
With other students, Jiang Jinya might worry they wouldn’t even bother to read the comments. But she had absolute trust in Shen Xiu.
“Got it, Professor.”
Shen Xiu cradled the stapled packet of A4 paper in his arms and said gratefully, “Thank you for your hard work, Professor.”
When Shen Xiu returned to the classroom with Jiang Jinya, everyone immediately noticed the stack of A4 papers in his arms. They instantly understood—Grind God Shen had been grinding all summer long.
Wait a minute…
After participating in a boy group survival show, there hadn’t even been much time before school started again—and he still managed to grind?
In that instant, everyone’s eyes filled with even more admiration as they looked at Shen Xiu. They all had just one thought in their minds:
There’s a reason he’s called the Grind God!
Shen Xiu: “……”
He had only gone to fetch the professor—what on earth had everyone been saying about him while he was gone?
Could it be, like Ling Yuanzhen once said, that people were giving him side-eyes because he often sought extra help from teachers?
With that thought, Shen Xiu quickened his pace back to his seat at the rear of the classroom. He tucked the report underneath his desk, not daring to place it on top.
After Jiang Jinya returned, she gave a few routine remarks—standard first-day talk—then wrapped up the brief beginning-of-semester meeting.
Once she left, Shen Xiu didn’t dare exit through the front door. Instead, he quietly opened the back door and slipped out.
“Tch, acting like he’s something special,” Ling Yuanzhen muttered.
His voice wasn’t loud, but it wasn’t quiet either. With only a few people left in the classroom, it was impossible not to hear.
“Oh wow, someone’s feeling real salty.”
“Hehe, Shen Xiu is something special—unlike you. No talent, still acting high and mighty. What are you so proud of?”
“A classic case of ‘incompetent and angry.’”
Everyone knew, after two years as classmates, who actually worked hard and who didn’t. One by one, they chimed in, roasting Ling Yuanzhen until his face turned red with fury. He slammed his hand on a desk and stormed out.
—
Shen Xiu hadn’t expected to find a kitten in the roadside greenery on his way home.
It was just a tiny ball of fluff, letting out faint, kittenish meows from inside a clump of shrubs. When Shen Xiu reached in and gently pulled it out, he looked down at the black kitten in his palm and gasped in awe: “It’s so small.”
It was tiny—barely the size of his palm. Its eyes still had that layer of blue haze, clearly indicating it hadn’t been weaned yet. Compared to how he was back then, this little one was even more pitiful. There was no way Shen Xiu could bring himself to leave it behind.
As he crouched among the shrubbery, Shen Xiu glanced around. There were no adult cats in sight. He figured the kitten might have been accidentally left behind when the mother cat was moving her litter.
It was so tiny—there was no way it could survive out here on its own.
Meow meow meow…
The little kitten lay curled up in Shen Xiu’s palm, trying its best to open its eyes, letting out soft mewling cries from its throat.
Shen Xiu stood still, completely unable to bring himself to put the kitten back.
But if he wanted to keep it… the apartment wasn’t his. Feeling unsure, Shen Xiu asked the system nervously, “Can I keep it in the house?”
Since it was a rented place, he needed to ask. He couldn’t just act on his own.
System: [Of course you can!]
It was so cute, the system almost wished it were a person instead of cold, emotionless data!
Relieved, Shen Xiu let out a breath, took off his baseball cap, gently placed the little kitten inside, and quickly headed home.
Shen Xiu had never raised a cat before. After bringing the kitten back and settling it in using tips he found online, he grabbed a clean baseball cap to wear and prepared to head to the mall to buy supplies for the kitten.
There weren’t many people in the newly opened shopping mall. In a quiet corner, Lin Jiashi leaned in close to Mu Zhenchu’s ear and whispered:
“Mu Zhenchu, don’t be so ungrateful. It’s been days already—still haven’t figured it out?”
“What? You still want to keep doing stuff like today? A person who could’ve had such a bright future, now singing and dancing at someone else’s store opening? Don’t you feel how pathetic and embarrassing this all is?”
He looked at Mu Zhenchu, whose haggard state showed through even the thick foundation, and his smile widened.
“Have you even looked in the mirror lately? Do you even know what your face looks like now—?”
Mu Zhenchu, recalling his practice sessions at Shen Xiu’s place, interrupted coldly, “Yeah, I have.”
Lin Jiashi: “?”
Mu Zhenchu: “A whole wall of floor-to-ceiling mirrors.”
Lin Jiashi: “???”
Mu Zhenchu: “At Shen Xiu’s house.”
“I’ve been looking for days.”
Lin Jiashi: “…Sh*t!”
Lin Jiashi’s face darkened instantly. He tried to hold it in but couldn’t: “So what?!”
Mu Zhenchu pushed Lin Jiashi away, putting some distance between them, and said with a bright smile, “Not much—I just wanted to tell you, don’t even think about dragging me down with you!”
As he spoke, a cold sneer tugged at Mu Zhenchu’s lips. “You think you’re the only smart one, don’t you? You just can’t stand anyone who’s close to Shen Xiu because you can’t get near him yourself, isn’t that right? And because I’m unlucky enough to be in the same company as you, I’ve become a thorn in your side.”
His true intentions laid bare, Lin Jiashi let out a cold laugh. “Yeah, so what?”
“You know what I’m thinking—so what? What, do you really think Shen Xiu’s going to pull you out of Qinghe?”
“You wish! Do you honestly believe Shen Xiu gives a damn about you? In his eyes, you’re no different from a dog.”
Mu Zhenchu thought of how Shen Xiu let him stay at his place, clearly saw through his difficult situation but never asked out of respect, even installed mirrors just to help him practice dancing—how could someone like that possibly see him as nothing more than a dog?
He opened his mouth, wanting to refute him, but before he could say anything, he suddenly caught sight of Shen Xiu standing not far away.
Mu Zhenchu hadn’t expected to see Shen Xiu here, and in shock and disbelief, he blurted out, “Shen Xiu?!”
Right after calling his name, he realized that Shen Xiu must have heard everything—how he looked, what he said—all of it. Frozen on the spot, Mu Zhenchu didn’t know what to do.
