Chapter 13: A Little Bit of Forum
After the interview ended, Yue Zhaolin stepped out and immediately spotted Tan Shen sitting on a row of connected chairs, legs spread wide.
At the sound of the door closing, Tan Shen looked over.
His skin was pale. The lighting in the studio had been too harsh and washed out the sharpness of his features, but now, under the overhead lights in the hallway, his bone structure was just right—clean shadows framed a lean face with striking, dramatic eyes and brows.
Yue Zhaolin called out, “Tan Shen?”
Tan Shen pushed himself upright with his arms. “Mm, you’re out.” He shrugged his shoulders, stretching out the stiffness in his neck and shoulders.
“You were waiting for me?”
Tan Shen replied, “Yeah. You’re probably about to ask, ‘Why are you waiting for me?’”
Which, ironically, made Yue Zhaolin not want to ask at all.
Unfazed, Tan Shen dropped a bombshell: “I’m shallow. I’m a sucker for good looks. When I see someone attractive, I just want to be their loyal lackey.”
Truth was, he’d gotten sick of seeing the company’s usual lineup of walking skeletons. Yue Zhaolin’s bone structure, the way his muscles and lines moved—it was beauty that didn’t even seem human. Tan Shen found it fascinating, worth a few extra glances. Ideally, he’d love to touch.
Yue Zhaolin laughed at how weird he was.
Seeing Yue Zhaolin laugh out loud, Tan Shen couldn’t help but smile too. “Come on, I’ll help with your luggage.” Their rooms, F and A, were on the same floor—on the way.
Yue Zhaolin said, “Wait, Fu Xunying’s still inside.”
When Fu Xunying finally came out, ready to cozy up to Yue Zhaolin, he suddenly noticed a tall, gaunt skeleton of a man loitering nearby.
“What are you doing here?!”
Tan Shen replied in a flat tone, “Why shouldn’t I be here?”
This was clearly a provocation—and Fu Xunying was absolutely not having it. He and Tan Shen were just natural enemies. Everything about the guy rubbed him the wrong way.
And just like that, the two locked horns.
Yue Zhaolin walked ahead while the two behind him didn’t exactly start yelling, but the passive-aggressive sniping? Ruthless enough to kill someone with words.
By the time they reached the first floor, Cen Chi was already hauling Yue Zhaolin’s suitcase.
“……”
Like a golden retriever in human form, Cen Chi beamed as he chatted with Yue Zhaolin. “Your suitcase’s not heavy. I’ll help push it — let’s head back to the dorm together!”
He launched into a stream of chatter: “Shower, then bed. Gotta get up early tomorrow.”
Clearly, he intended to walk off with Yue Zhaolin right then and there, completely ignoring the two people trailing behind.
Having just suffered multiple “defeats,” Fu Xunying’s eyes flared. “Hey! That’s seriously rude! Ignoring me is one thing, but now you’re trying to steal Yue Zhaolin?”
Cen Chi immediately apologized. “Sorry! I’m face-blind—I didn’t recognize you. You’re Fu Xunying, right? I remembered your voice.”
“Face-blind? Then how come you recognized Yue Zhaolin?”
Cen Chi blurted out, “He’s different…” He paused, trying to explain, but failed. “I just knew right away.”
Fu Xunying ground his teeth. “……”
Yue Zhaolin nudged Fu Xunying’s waist. “Come on, I’ll go with you to get your luggage.”
“Ugh… fine, I got it.”
Fu Xunying gave a little shudder.
That counted as him being successfully coaxed.
Fu Xunying was pure-blooded royalty—at least in temperament—and theoretically shouldn’t be that naive, but there was something about him that was paradoxical: mature in some areas, strangely “pure” in others.
Like now.
Yue Zhaolin had no interest in digging into whether it was all genuine or not—just as he had no interest in prying into Cen Chi, Tan Shen, or Meng Yu’s motives.
Cen Chi suddenly said, “Oh right, down jacket. It’s cold outside, better put it on before we head out.”
Contestants weren’t allowed to wear heavy coats while filming, and with central heating, they always took off their jackets before entering the studio.
A staff member had brought over several coats, but Yue Zhaolin couldn’t find his.
“That’s weird—you can’t find your jacket?” The staff member looked baffled and quickly became anxious. “They were all stored properly…”
The staff member wasn’t very old, and in a moment of panic, her face flushed bright red.
From a corner of the room, someone opened a suitcase, pulled out a white down jacket, and held it out in front of Yue Zhaolin—it was Meng Yu.
He had just finished his interview and heard the voices of the group as he came out.
Locking eyes with Yue Zhaolin, Meng Yu said, “I brought two. Wear mine.”
Yue Zhaolin took the jacket. It was brand new, with the faint scent of laundry detergent. “Thanks,” he said, then slipped it on.
He knew Meng Yu didn’t offer it out of pure kindness, but Yue Zhaolin wasn’t one to stand on moral high ground. If something was useful, he’d use it.
He lowered his head slightly, tucking the bottom half of his face into the raised collar. With a soft exhale, he murmured, “Let’s go.”
It was already past 3 a.m. By the time they got back to the dorm, unpacked, and showered, it’d be 4 at least.
Tomorrow, theme song training would begin. Getting enough rest was crucial.
The dorm and the studio were in the same complex, not far from each other, but the show still arranged transport. A vehicle was already waiting outside.
As the doors opened, a few camera flashes went off. But just a few steps out—
“It’s Yue Zhaolin!”
In an instant, a flood of flashes burst like fireworks, turning the darkness into a dazzling curtain of light. It was as if they stood at the center of a galaxy.
All the trainees had received some level of media training, so no one completely lost their composure.
Yue Zhaolin let out a breath, mouthing “Let’s head back, it’s freezing.” The others glanced toward the blinding lights and gave polite nods.
Near He Jie, a fangirl with a DSLR took a sharp breath. “Holy crap, how are all these guys together? My eyes are BLESSED.”
“Aaaaah—did you catch that second when they all looked this way?!”
“I did, but it came out blurry, damn it!”
“I swear I’m becoming a Yue Zhaolin stan. Surrounded by all those gorgeous guys, and he still stands out—I’m gonna lose my mind. Totally worth freezing out here. Ughhh!”
“I—I think I caught it…”
A thunderous gasp rippled through the crowd.
Everyone crowded around the screen—
There was Yue Zhaolin in the center, brow lightly furrowed, lips slightly parted as if speaking. His eyes held a hint of worry, and in the cold winter night, it gave off a strangely poignant vibe.
Just ahead was golden-haired Cen Chi; behind him to the left stood Fu Xunying, with his striking features; to the left was the mixed-race Tan Shen.
In the corner stood Meng Yu.
Only Yue Zhaolin’s down jacket was white—an unspoken spotlight in the group.
These five people, these five faces, all looking simultaneously at the camera, sent a powerful jolt through anyone who saw it. A visual shockwave.
“Please, please post it on Weibo—witness the birth of a legendary photo…”
Someone shouted loudly.
He Jie lowered her eyes to review the shot again, took a deep breath. “Moonrise Stirs the Swans” needed to be updated.
…
Deep into the night, besides the fangirls, another group was wide awake and buzzing with energy.
A storm was sweeping through the upper echelons of the production team.
The head screenwriter’s phone was ringing off the hook. No answer. Then calls went to his assistant, who was grilled over the phone, “Why isn’t Director Zhang answering?!”
The assistant glanced at the clock—it was well past midnight. “…Probably asleep?”
“Sleeping my ass off. I don’t care what you do, get him up. We’re having a meeting!”
“…?”
Now?
—
The producer kicked off the topic: “Yue Zhaolin’s initial rating — keep one episode or two?”
The “Yes” side: one episode.
The “No” side: two episodes.
The opposition spoke first:
“This topic is pointless to me. The execution plan has already been set. You can’t just change it on a whim.”
“The script is locked in. Changing it now would be unfair to everyone else.”
“Yue Zhaolin’s role is simple: to boost the show’s early hype.”
Pro side:
“Everyone here is from different age groups, men and women alike. Honestly, have you not been drawn in?”
“No one can deny how perfect Version 1 is. If we push it live, this stage could explode nationwide.”
“There are plenty of chances to go viral, but few to sweep the entire country.”
“This kind of opportunity is rare and precious.”
Con side:
“…”
“Once we release this stage, it’ll be hard to sacrifice Yue Zhaolin later.”
“This show isn’t just for the hardcore idol fans—you need to understand we have to consider multiple parties.”
“The goal has to come first.”
Pro side:
“As long as it blows up, sponsors will come flooding in like a snowstorm. Look next door.”
“The show’s success boosted one contestant and brought in several sponsors.”
“Tempting, isn’t it?”
“Of course it is.”
“Isn’t making money the whole point of the show?”
“As for ‘Starlight,’ don’t talk about the future—there’s already a sponsor here solely because of Yue Zhaolin.”
“The commercial value is already showing.”
Con side:
(Winces) “…For the bigger picture, this bit of hype can be sacrificed.”
Pro side:
“Don’t forget, Yue Zhaolin’s initial rating was an overperformance. The rough cuts Xingqiong sent us weren’t like this.”
“That means Yue Zhaolin’s actual level is much lower.”
“As long as we highlight the contrast before and after, there’s still room to sacrifice him later.” He hinted meaningfully, “Otherwise, the audience will be disappointed.”
Con side:
“…”
“If we give the initial spotlight to Yue Zhaolin, what about the other sponsors?”
Pro side:
“There’s more than one highlight moment. Yue Zhaolin’s just a bit brighter.”
“And as long as the right people debut, isn’t that what really matters?”
“After all, we can only control the big picture of the show’s direction. The details—there’s no way we can manage everything perfectly.”
“Besides, even if Yue Zhaolin gets eliminated, Xingqiong will still promote him. He’s not a one-time-use contestant. Getting some exposure now isn’t a loss.”
“In short, the benefits outweigh the drawbacks.”
After some back-and-forth, the opposition softened:
“First, let’s get some official guidelines out—no more empty talk.”
“Go communicate with all parties first. If it doesn’t work, we’ll discuss again.”
—
[Goose Group Gossip | Emperor Yue Strikes Again with Legendary Photos—Appearing and Instantly Gaining Fans, So Impressive]
[Main Thread]
RT.
In the “Starlight” super-topic, tons of fans are posting pictures, their save buttons practically smoking. The one truth—Yue Zhaolin’s stunning looks.
Here are some chosen shots:
[Photo] Credit: [Moonrise Stirs the Swans]
[Photo] Credit: [The Moon Flows into the Clouds]
…
[Photo] Credit: [Searching for You]
[1F] So many fanbases!
[3F] The lighting is perfect—like gods turning back to look. But compared to the others, that one from [Moonrise Stirs the Swans] has a different vibe.
Mainly Yue Zhaolin’s expression—it’s more empathetic, softer.
[7F] If all these guys are in the same dorm, I’m going crazy.
[26F] Yue Zhaolin’s popularity is insane. I checked Douyin—it’s only been posted a short while and already has 90,000 likes.
[29F] Not just that.
Hey 26th floor, look up the main topic for “Yue Zhaolin.” His popularity is in the billions. What does that even mean? He’s more popular than any idol drama star.
[32F] The Emperor’s still going strong. Who understands? So satisfying!
[37F] This photo of Emperor Yue really gives me a Buddha vibe—like he’s full of compassion for all living beings.
[38F] I often get this “total commander” feeling from him. Not talking about a ship or anything, just how he handles things… ah, can’t quite put it into words!
Anyone else feel this way?!
[39F] The Dads have descended.
[40F] No Moms here?
[41F] There are.
But I scoped out the super-topic—90% are starry-eyed first-love fangirls, aka “girlfriend fans.”
“Moms” and “Dads” aren’t many, but they have a strong presence—after all, they do produce content.
[42F] Girlfriend fans dominating is normal. Lots who claim to be “mommy fans” or “little sister fans” are actually girlfriend fans too.
When an idol starts dating, it hits them hard.
Because the idol fills part of the fans’ “boyfriend” fantasies. So when the idol dates, it’s a disaster.
[45F] Why is Emperor Yue so magnetic to the BL fans?
[46F] It’s the “soothing vibe.”
That fan cam with the heart from the fansites—putting it on repeat, who wouldn’t melt?
Seeing him after work and the fans waiting for him—not happiness, but worry they might catch a cold.
That furrowed brow? It’s a beautiful person caring about you! Hits the fans right in the feels!
[49F] Emperor Yue really has some kind of magic. Makes you want to watch his every move—but the show won’t start for twenty more days…
[52F] I’m not over it. I’m gonna find a spot to h*ng myself, come down when the time’s up.
