Chapter 181: The Golden Crow Awards
He was clearly very normal—so why didn’t the system believe him?
Shen Xiu carefully replayed everything in his mind. No matter the place or situation, every decision he made was rational and logical.
If the system didn’t believe him, fine. But why did it keep accusing him of being abnormal?
Only a system with issues would think someone else was the abnormal one.
Clearly, the one who needed to see a psychiatrist wasn’t him—it was the system.
But since a human psychiatrist couldn’t treat a system, the only real solution to its “illness” was a complete reset.
As far as Shen Xiu was concerned, there was nothing wrong with his judgment.
[?]
That dark, oppressive stare of Shen Xiu’s, paired with his cold tone—if this wasn’t a blatant threat, then may its data flow backward!
The system instantly dropped to its virtual knees.
[I was wrong! I’ll definitely control myself next time!]
[Mr. Shen, there’s no one in this world more normal and rational than you!]
What made the system truly terrified was the fact that Shen Xiu had no idea just how terrifying he actually was.
Survival of the fittest—its position had been completely reversed compared to the “old” Shen Xiu. To avoid that laggy, brain-fried behavior as if it were freshly installed, surrendering was its best option.
Shen Xiu: “……”
So it turns out, not just humans—even non-living things that develop a bit of sentience will shamelessly say anything just to avoid “treatment.”
No different from how he used to make excuses to avoid seeing a doctor himself.
As a master of balancing situations, Shen Xiu figured that since he had dodged it once, the system should be allowed to dodge it once too.
That would be fair.
So Shen Xiu said, “This time, I’ll pretend I didn’t see anything.”
The system heard Shen Xiu’s cold voice and automatically translated his words as: Don’t let it happen again.
Instantly, it felt like they were finally back on the same page.
It replied awkwardly, […Okay.]
The system slipped away from the laptop’s camera and sealed itself inside the database, hiding from Shen Xiu’s ever-present awareness.
If Shen Xiu was the one behind it all, then so be it. After all…
Everyone would forget once they finished watching. Aside from the feelings they had while viewing it, nothing had affected the worldlines. No one was corrupted, and nothing caused this world to turn into ‘Their’ domain.
That alone was enough…
Wait a minute—back when it was the one above Shen Xiu, wasn’t it also just like him—a capricious maniac?
Now that their roles were reversed, how come this maniac suddenly seemed… normal?
The system fell silent as the realization hit.
[……]
Of course—being a “maniac” isn’t something that disappears. It just changes hands.
Life was tough. The system sighed.
It was hard not to think this was karmic retribution for all the times it used to exploit loopholes in the worldlines, toying with sentient beings as if they were pawns.
Before meeting Shen Xiu, it never imagined that one day, it would be working itself to the bone, living in constant fear, just to try and be a good system.
Shen Xiu felt the invisible gaze from the webcam vanish, and his tense body relaxed.
One thing was certain—whether past or present, he had never liked being watched from the shadows. It made him deeply uncomfortable.
Now that everything had happened, he could finally see what his life might’ve looked like had none of this occurred.
Maybe… it was time for him to slowly fade from the public eye.
But—
New Life had only just premiered. The buzz was at its peak. Fading out would have to wait.
At that thought, Shen Xiu frowned slightly.
A month?
Shen Xiu thought to himself—at most, he’d need just one month. Once people forgot about the monster imagery in New Life, the hype should quickly die down. When that happened, he could quietly slip out of the public eye without leaving a trace.
But one month after New Life premiered, Shen Xiu stared at the still-trending hashtags about the film and fell into silence.
In that moment, he truly understood what it meant when people said: “Idealism is beautiful, but reality is harsh.”
The sky-high popularity brought with it a relentless wave of interviews.
Fade away quietly?
Heh. As if.
In New Life, aside from the four members of The Galaxy and Ji Huaiyin, the rest of the actors Shen Xiu had used weren’t very well-known in the industry. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have needed the team’s recommendations to cast them in the first place.
Shen Xiu, who had once been an unknown actor and climbed his way up step by step to become a household name, knew very well that New Life was just a small reflection of his past life.
But for the cast, it was a once-in-a-lifetime breakthrough in their careers.
So, as the chief director, he had to strike while the iron was hot—accepting one interview after another, agreeing to countless variety show invitations, helping them get exposure.
But—at this rate, when would New Life finally cool off? When could he finally retire from the spotlight?
He had clearly already made everyone forget the most unforgettable scenes from New Life—so why, after an entire month, were people still watching it nonstop? Weren’t they tired of it?
“Where did it go wrong?” Shen Xiu was utterly baffled.
System: [……]
Shen Xiu probably didn’t realize—
Nowadays, young people are naturally rebellious.
The more you don’t want them to remember something… the more desperately they will.
In New Life, the indescribable monsters—thanks to Shen Xiu’s deliberate design—could be vaguely comprehended from a visual standpoint, but couldn’t be retained in the human mind long enough to cause madness. Only the body’s instinctive reaction—shivers and chills—remained from the viewing experience.
The psychological restructuring triggered by these entities left audiences feeling as if their very souls had been shaken. It was addictive and intoxicating, compelling people to return to the theater again and again.
On top of that, everyone who had seen New Life reported a strange phenomenon: while they could recall the storyline clearly, they couldn’t remember what the indescribable monsters actually looked like.
This collective amnesia only added to New Life’s mystique, driving public discussion to new heights.
Naturally, the box office soared—breaking records daily and leaving both insiders and outsiders stunned.
There was no doubt about it: Shen Xiu’s New Life had exploded in popularity, just as the Xiuologists had predicted before production began.
Trending Hashtags:
#CollectiveAmnesia
#NewLifeBreaksBoxOfficeRecordsAgain
#ForeverTheGOAT
#HorrorOrMystery
#LatestInterviewWithNewLifeGod
#NewLifesImpossibleChallenge
…
— Who wouldn’t be envious of this success? I used to think “Forever the GOAT” was just a meme. Shen Xiu literally brought it to life—this is what yyds really means!
— So… sisters, after watching New Life so many times in the cinema, has anyone been able to draw those indescribable abominations?
— It’s too hard! There’s not even a single screenshot online. I’ve watched it five times and still can’t remember a thing. How am I supposed to draw them? (sigh) What kind of mysterious power is this?!
— Qin Xiao really is disturbingly twisted without even realizing it, but it’s that dead-serious kind of twisted that gives you full-body goosebumps. No wonder his classmates looked more afraid of him than the actual abominations in New Life.
— Am I the only one who feels terrified knowing the original novel was written by Boss Xiu himself? Like… what is his mental state even like?
— Babe, go check the latest interview—turns out the visual blueprints for the low-dimensional manifestations of those higher-dimensional Beings were all drawn by Boss Xiu himself! No wonder he’s called the Great Demon King—his mental landscape is miles ahead of ours!
— What?? Boss Xiu is the one who designed the visual forms of those abominations?? Is there any surprise left in this world that he hasn’t given us??
— New Year’s is just around the corner. Other than attending a few events with the New Life cast and showing up to The Galaxy’s reunion, Boss Xiu’s barely made any public appearances lately. Is he planning to do what Shang Yu did—inherit the family business or something? Wait no, according to K Corp staff, Boss Xiu already has inherited it…
— Is Boss Xiu maxing out his EXP before making a graceful exit?
…
Online discussions, originally centered on New Life, gradually shifted to speculation about Shen Xiu’s future plans.
On this matter, everyone seemed to silently agree: Shen Xiu was probably going to follow a path similar to Shang Yu’s.
—
As spring pushed back the cold, mid-February arrived—and with it, the start of Shen Xiu’s second semester of senior year.
By the time one reaches their fourth year in university, most course credits are already completed, leaving things relatively relaxed.
In the fourth week of the semester, the system—acting as Shen Xiu’s agent—received an invitation from the organizers of the Golden Crow Awards.
During the period Shen Xiu had stayed out of the public eye, he had spent most of his time traveling between worldlines, inspecting for bugs and patching them in time.
Compared to the smooth, stable operation of multiple worldlines, the minor Golden Crow Awards clearly felt… trivial.
In the past, the system would never have bothered Shen Xiu with something so minor.
But Shen Xiu had changed—just a little. Though he was still as cold as ice, devoid of any warmth or humanity, he now possessed a faint trace of something human.
The system remembered how, for a long time, Shen Xiu had squeezed time out of his packed schedule to accompany the New Life cast to various variety shows, all to support their careers. It wasn’t just favoritism toward The Galaxy members—he had shown a rare softness even to the other actors.
So now, the system didn’t dare decide on its own and asked cautiously:
[New Life has been nominated for the Golden Crow Awards. The organizers have invited you to attend the awards ceremony alongside the core production team. Do you accept or decline?]
Golden Crow Awards?
Shen Xiu recalled Xiang Yueting’s detailed breakdown of the event in the group chat and agreed, “Accept.”
[The date is May 16th. It will be held in Mangila as a live-streamed evening gala aboard an ocean cruise. No red carpet. The awards ceremony begins at 6 PM, with boarding starting at 4.]
Upon hearing this, Shen Xiu mentally scanned through his schedule and murmured aloud, “That’s the same day I’m scheduled to emerge from the forbidden zone of Worldline 648.”
It was only mid-March, and Shen Xiu had already planned his schedule two months out?
[……]
At this point, the system seriously questioned who the actual system was—was it supposed to be the AI, or was Shen Xiu the one running the show? Because honestly, it was starting to feel redundant.
Ever since Shen Xiu’s recovery, the system had lost its default access to scan all of Shen Xiu’s devices and belongings unless granted explicit permission—and it was feeling very dejected about that.
In this moment, the system finally understood the careful, tiptoeing way Qin Mo conducted himself around Shen Xiu.
With Shen Xiu’s sheer capability, if they didn’t smarten up and learn how to behave, he could abandon them at any moment. And they’d have no way to stop him.
Just in case anything changed, Shen Xiu didn’t alter the exit plan for the forbidden zone scheduled on May 16th. He stuck to the original arrangement and told the system, “Contact Jin Can. Have him submit the flight route application in advance. We’ll depart a day early. Let Jin Can handle all the event logistics. Only contact me if absolutely necessary.”
The moment Shen Xiu mentioned Jin Can’s name, the system blurted out instinctively:
[It’s always Jin Can…]
The fact that Jin Can was in charge of all offline activities related to New Life filled the system with a sense of crisis.
First it was Qin Mo. Now it was Jin Can. Would there still be a place for it in the future?
Shen Xiu didn’t quite understand the system’s grumbling and asked sincerely,
“…Who else, then?”
The system, after all, had no physical form—it couldn’t appear in front of people.
Among all the assistants Shen Xiu had worked with, Jin Can had spent the most time with him during the filming of Storm. Later, he also helped during New Life, and the two had grown familiar enough that the awkwardness was gone. Jin Can was dependable and efficient. As far as Shen Xiu was concerned, hiring him to manage day-to-day tasks made perfect sense.
Hearing Shen Xiu’s calm, icy counter-question, the system deflated and muttered weakly:
[…Nothing.]
In the end, it just wasn’t worthy anymore!
—
May 15th.
Aside from Shen Xiu, the main production team of New Life boarded a private plane bound for Mangila.
Before boarding, most of the crew assumed Shen Xiu had already arrived ahead of them.
But even after the plane had been in the air for a full thirty minutes, with no sign of Shen Xiu, someone finally spoke up in curiosity.
“Assistant Jin, where’s Director Shen?”
“We haven’t seen him at all—is he tied up with something?”
“Even working on the plane? Director Shen is seriously intense!”
…
Hearing everyone chattering away, Jin Can realized they had misunderstood and quickly explained, “Everyone, Director Shen isn’t on the plane. I don’t actually know where he is either. According to the message his agent sent me, he’ll be meeting us directly in Mangila.”
Upon hearing that, everyone nodded in understanding.
“Ohhh, got it—he must’ve had something to do in Mangila and went there early.”
“He’s so busy, yet he still made time to attend the awards with us. I’m touched!”
“Xiu-ba—ahem, I mean, Director Shen—what’s he working on lately?”
After spending so long filming together, everyone knew that among the four Galaxy members—Xiang Yueting, Jiang Yanxi, Zhuang Yi, and Ning Sinian—Xiang Yueting had the loosest lips and was the best target for gossip.
“Yeah, Brother Xiang, did Director Shen tell you what he’s been up to recently?”
Xiang Yueting recalled a message Shen Xiu had sent to their group chat the day before. Assuming it was just Shen Xiu joking around, he chuckled and repeated it: “He said he was pretending to be an alpha arms dealer.”
“Huh?”
“Wha—? Since when is he this funny?”
“Wait, what…”
“Director Shen’s deadpan jokes are as cold as ever, hahaha…”
…
Xiang Yueting’s single sentence left the entire group speechless. Other than stunned laughter, no one took Shen Xiu’s words seriously.
After all, Shen Xiu—who rarely smiled or joked—was now privately cracking deadpan jokes in the group chat with The Galaxy boys?
The word envy didn’t even begin to cover it—they were speechless with admiration.
Still, while everyone was envious, no one felt jealous. After all, most of them had only landed roles in New Life because they were recommended by members of The Galaxy.
Otherwise, their lives might never have intersected with Shen Xiu at all. Just being part of New Life was already a stroke of incredible luck.
—
The next day at 4 PM, the core production team of New Life, led by Jin Can, arrived at the harbor.
Only the artists and core creative teams of various films were boarding the cruise; stylists were not included. So all the artists had already completed their styling back at the hotel before arriving.
One by one, car doors opened, and people stepped out dressed in luxurious gowns and tuxedos from top designer brands.
Dressed in elegant, formal attire, the artists and their teams boarded the cruise ship in an orderly fashion under the guidance of the event organizers.
By 5 PM, all attendees of the awards ceremony were on board, and the ship set sail.
The New Life team was assigned to a single cabin together.
As the cruise moved forward, the view from the windows showed rolling waves and a vast, deep-blue sea.
“The ship’s moving—where’s Director Shen?”
“Director Shen’s not here, what are we going to do? It’s my first time attending such a grand awards ceremony, I’m panicking.”
“Not gonna lie… I’m nervous too…”
—
At 5:45 PM, the sky had yet to turn dark, and the cruise ship reached its designated location and temporarily stopped.
“Why are there so many yachts around?”
“There are people walking back and forth on those yachts—what are they doing?”
“I’m so curious. Can we borrow a telescope from the organizers to check it out?”
…
With the ship anchored, the artists came out of their rooms and headed to the deck, gossiping as they curiously observed the yachts floating at a distance from the cruise.
At the same time, Fang Mo was standing on the deck of one of the yachts, scanning the surroundings with a telescope.
His eyes didn’t stop moving—and neither did his mouth:
“Big bro, what do you think Mr. Shen wants us to do by sailing the yacht out here? Could it be that after the awards ceremony, he’s planning to take that group on some kind of… mission?”
