Royal Ch.64

Chapter 64: Stage an Accident

The assistant stepped forward in a flash. “Sorry, miss, we don’t accept expensive gifts.”

“This is…” Seeing that the girl still wanted to say something, Yue Zhaolin handed the box back to her. “Sister, I’ll read the letter, but I can’t accept the gift.”

Company policy was one reason, but more importantly, it was Yue Zhaolin’s sincere belief: not accepting high-value gifts helps foster a healthy fan culture.

The intention behind giving gifts is good, but if an expensive gift is exposed publicly, it can create a sense of “emotional blackmail” for fans whose spending power isn’t as high.

Fans who give high-priced gifts will definitely attract attention—then won’t those who can’t afford to give feel pressured to force themselves to send something too?

That kind of pressure builds and leads to “comparison-driven idol worship,” which poisons the atmosphere.

What truly made him happy was when fans from all over the country—the “Tide”—would travel great distances to gather in one place for his events.

That alone made him feel deeply loved.

—And even if he didn’t accept a gift, refusing it like this didn’t really make people feel disappointed.

The girl put the box back into her bag, her eyes suddenly lighting up. “What about a cheap gift? A plush keychain, twenty-five yuan.”

The assistant replied, “Gifts under two hundred yuan, or anything handmade, are totally fine.”

The girl took out a moon-shaped accessory from her bag. It was pale yellow, plush, and soft. “I bought this from the merchandise shop run by Wishing Station.”

Wishing Station, or “Moonlight-wishing,” was the largest fan support station.

At the previous live event, Wishing Station’s merch had been so cute that even the Tide members who couldn’t attend wanted it.

After observing how other fandoms operated, Wishing Station had started a small shop selling merchandise.

All profits were disclosed and reinvested into the next round of crowdfunding support.

The merchandise wasn’t expensive—way more reasonable than those other fandoms charging two hundred yuan for a single keychain. Plus, the profits were transparently disclosed, so fans could buy with peace of mind.

As a result, many Tide members placed orders. Having fan merch also made it easier to recognize each other at offline events.

Yue Zhaolin took the plush moon and examined it carefully. It was light and felt good in his hand.

Shaped like a crescent moon, it was rounded and smooth. Its eyes were stitched into thin slits, and a blush was sewn beneath them, as if it were smiling.

“It’s really cute.”

“Then you have to keep it!”

The assistant beside them noticed the girl’s phone was recording and politely said, “Miss, could you wait until after the plane lands to post the video?”

“Sure.”

In the end, the girl left with a signed photo card and the gift bag.

This was Yue Zhaolin’s first time interacting so closely with a fan, and he let out a breath of relief.

Fu Xunying saw Yue Zhaolin clip the plush keychain onto his travel bag and couldn’t help commenting, “So you’re just going to hang that twenty-five yuan plush on a fifty-six-thousand-yuan bag?”

His travel bag was from brand V’s new line—priced at 56,000 yuan.

“Is that a problem?”

“Nope.”

Fu Xunying reached out to poke it, then pulled back under Yue Zhaolin’s intimidating gaze and muttered righteously, “Yue Zhaolin, you spoil your fans way too much.”

Xingqiong had certainly taught them fan-service tactics—but only Yue Zhaolin could take it this far.

Yue Zhaolin thought this guy was just being ridiculous. “So if I don’t spoil the fans, I should spoil you instead?”

“…”

The assistant finished sending a message and looked up. “Everyone, let’s go. Time to head to the gate.”

They were about to board the plane.

It was Yue Zhaolin’s first time flying. He had been worried he might get airsick, but apart from a brief feeling of weightlessness during takeoff, everything else was fine.

Then he took out the letter from the fan and began reading it.

The assistant said, “You all can take a nap if you’d like.”

The assistant would come around half an hour before landing to wake everyone up and get them changed.

The VIP tunnel that avoided the cameras was only available when boarding; after landing, they still had to walk a distance outside. After all, the airport was basically another kind of red carpet.

Since there would definitely be a crowd chasing them this time for the offline event, everyone was consciously preparing to make the most of their airport “runway” moment.

So, one hour before landing, people were changing clothes, shaving, applying base makeup, or using jackets to style an “off-the-shoulder” fashionable look.

They pulled out every trick in the book—

Like peacocks fanning their tails.

Once the plane landed, they finally met the audience waiting for that “display”—outside the VIP passageway, in addition to the waiting nanny vans, there were fans not far off.

“Ahhhhhhhh—!!”

Screams erupted instantly.

Among the countless shouts of “Yue Zhaolin,” a handful of other names like “Chu Li” and “Fu Xunying” could be heard, bringing a satisfied smile to Chu Li’s face as he fanned his feathers.

Didn’t matter how few fans—he’d managed to charm them anyway. As for whether the massive difference in offline reception made them feel imbalanced?

Yes.

But they were used to it.

—From the start of the competition, Yue Zhaolin had always been way out in front in votes, stage rankings, even crowdfunding. The repeated domination was something they’d learned to live with.

The door of the black nanny van opened, and the group boarded one by one.

Yue Zhaolin was the last.

He waved to the crowd, pulled down his mask to say something—though the noise made it impossible to hear, it didn’t stop the Tide from letting out beast-like screams.

“Baby, let me kiss you to death!”

“Ahhh, your outfit is so good today. The line of your arm holding the bag is perfect—slurp slurp!”

“Wait a sec, what’s that yellow thing on his bag?” His clothes were all black, so the yellow stood out.

As they watched the black van pull away, the fansite masters finally had a moment to check their cameras.

“That yellow thing—let me see… It’s a plush keychain.”

“This… why does it look exactly like the merch from Wishing Station? I have one too,” another fansite master said, reaching for her backpack.

“……”

Wait a minute.

Huh?

Ah!

—

The group went to the hotel first to rest a bit. After regrouping with the other trainees, all sixty of them headed in neat formation to the venue of the Soda Festival.

The guest lineup at the Soda Festival wasn’t limited to domestic entertainers—there were acts from the Japanese, Korean, and Thai entertainment industries as well. When they arrived on site, they happened to see the Korean boy group KNB in the middle of rehearsal.

To be precise, it was a newly debuted group from Korea, but all the members were non-Korean nationals—mostly Korean-Americans, followed by Japanese and Chinese members.

The six trainees who had performed “Cold Lover” during Round One regrouped backstage to wait for their turn on stage.

After watching for a bit, their previous impression of K-pop groups being overwhelmingly strong quickly crumbled. What’s more, some of the members gave off a very distinct vibe.

Tan Shen commented, “About the same level as me.”

Fu Xunying, who ran out of breath every time he sang, grimaced. “At least I can stay on pitch.”

Wei Lai, whose only notable quality was his monkey-like handsome face, thought to himself: Well, at least I’m an original monkey—good-looking without major plastic surgery.

Cen Chi muttered, “They’re phoning it in.”

Sure, rehearsals didn’t need to be performed full-out, but a few of them had expressions that clearly said: ‘I don’t like China, but I’m not giving up the money either, as if they had come reluctantly.’

Yue Zhaolin looked up at the big screen. One of the members had facial features that faintly resembled Chen Fei.

That person…

Chen Fei had once told Yue Zhaolin that he’d been backstabbed and emotionally manipulated by someone he thought was a close “friend.” That was what made him feel insecure about his nose and led to his cosmetic surgery.

Was it him?

“…”

Yue Zhaolin glanced sideways at Chen Fei, and from the look on his face, he confirmed his guess.

A few minutes later, the music ended, and the members on stage began to step down one after another.

That person spotted Chen Fei in the crowd and didn’t look surprised. He said something in Korean to a nearby group member and started walking in their direction.

Yi Zhe, acting like nothing had ever happened, approached with a familiar smile—just like in the old days—and opened his arms as if to hug him. “Chen Fei, long time no see—”

Chen Fei, utterly disgusted by this former “friend,” instinctively reached out to push him away.

Yi Zhe had been waiting for that exact moment.

The instant Chen Fei’s hand touched him, Yi Zhe exaggerated his reaction, deliberately flinging himself backward as if pushed with force.

Suddenly, a hand shot out from the side and grabbed his arm.

With a single, fluid motion, it yanked Yi Zhe—who had already lost his balance—back to his feet.

In the distance—

One of the paparazzi blurted out, “Holy shit.”

Someone beside him: “You got it on camera too?!”

“Just from that move alone, you can tell Yue Zhaolin is definitely not one of those skinny, underfed pretty boys. That reflex was sharp.”

“His muscles look aesthetic—I thought they were just for show. But turns out—”

“He just yoinked that guy up with one hand!”

“What’s that called again? Boyfriend strength?”

“Sounds about right.”

The Soda Festival venue had barricades to prevent the audience from crowding in, so the paparazzi had taken over the high ground, using giant lens setups like cannons to shoot everything.

“How does he train like that?”

“You jealous?”

“Hell yeah, aren’t you? He’s not just good-looking—his body’s insane too. Dude’s seriously disciplined. If it were me, I’d have burned out before I even hit eighteen.”

“…” Honestly, same.

It was sweltering in Hainan today, so Yue Zhaolin showed up to rehearsal in a short-sleeved shirt and knee-length shorts. Most of his arms and legs were exposed.

It was hard to describe—no leg hair, very fair, well-shaped—exuding both youthful charm and physical strength.

Straight guys didn’t get the deeper implications, but ever since the rehearsal footage was released, a brand-new faction had emerged within the Tide fandom—alongside the face stans, voice stans, and stage performance stans—

Leg stans.

…

Yue Zhaolin hauled Yi Zhe upright. Yi Zhe was stunned, totally caught off guard. His wrist felt like it had been gripped by a steel clamp—painful beyond belief.

“You…”

Yue Zhaolin tilted his head slightly. “Trying to stage an accident?”

Yi Zhe’s eyelid twitched.

He knew who Yue Zhaolin was.

Even though he debuted in Korea and was part of the K-entertainment scene, Yi Zhe had still heard Yue Zhaolin’s name—his fan cams had blown up even more than most K-pop groups.

KNB’s team leader glanced back and frowned. “Yi Zhe, did you not stand properly?”

Yi Zhe trembled. “Y-Yes… Sorry.”

“Hello, Yue Zhaolin. I’m Cha Hojae, leader of KNB,” he said, switching expressions and speaking in English. “May I ask if we can film a cha together?”

A cha—short for challenge—was a viral dance snippet artists would post after releasing a new song, inviting others to copy and share.

KNB wasn’t very popular, so if they could get Yue Zhaolin to do a challenge with them, they’d be riding a major wave of clout.

But a staff member immediately stepped in. “Sorry, that would require coordination with the company.”

Yue Zhaolin gave a polite smile.

Rejected, Cha Hojae’s face froze for a second before he quickly recovered and smiled. “Apologies, I overstepped. I’ll reach out through official channels.”

With that, he led his group away.

Once they were out of earshot, Cha Hojae clicked his tongue. He didn’t think the failed request was his own fault—it was Yi Zhe’s.

As far as he was concerned, Yi Zhe had been messing around and ruined the opportunity. Cha Hojae rolled his eyes, fully prepared to take it out on him later.

As a Korean-American, he had also inherited what many jokingly referred to as Korea’s most notorious “cultural export”—

B*llying.

———

[Melon Group Eating Melons丨“Group Ban” is at it again, calling fans ‘Sister(Jiejie)’—I’m gonna puke]

———

[Original Post]

RT.

Saw it trending.

This kind of cutesy, babyish way of talking—my little brother stopped using it back in third grade. Dude really pulled out all the stops to pander to fans. Lao Sheng sure is living the life.

[1F] I’m done. Is he ten years old? Him calling me “Sister(Jiejie)” makes my scalp crawl.

[8F] Is there a law saying adult men can’t use the word “Jiejie” anymore?

[12F] If the fans like it and the idol likes it, and only the haters are pressed, then maybe stop hate-following? This kind of twisted obsession is honestly nauseating.

[23F] Other idols only call fans that because fans ask them to. He’s the one initiating—way too smooth with it. How many rich women has he called that in private?

[Comment deleted]

[28F] Lao Sheng may have the face, but not the character. That luxury brand creative director swings both ways. What if something really happened between them?

So that’s how Mr. Heartthrob got his reputation. Hilarious.

[Comment deleted]

[36F] Screenshot sent to Xingqiong.

[49F] What got deleted?

[52F] Who else would Xingqiong spoil like that? Billboard takeovers, LED screens, marketing accounts posting in sync—all the best resources, all poured into him.

[62F] Already backpedaling? Classic ‘Group Ban’.

[70F] Lao Sheng better not start patting himself on the back. With all the backing from Xingqiong, if he still doesn’t make it big, how are they supposed to justify blowing hundreds of millions on marketing?

No clue if they’ve even made their money back. Haha.

[88F] No idea if they’ve made a return yet, but he’s definitely more promising than your “precious heartthrob” upstairs.

[95F] Don’t know about the profit, but Yue Zhaolin just landed another gig—another external project added to his schedule!

[99F] …?

[112F] [Link]: The assistant director of “Forbidden Timespace” was asked about upcoming plans and directly stated: “We’ll soon be heading to China to film key scenes from the movie with Moon.”

[120F] What does that mean? I thought the lead cast of Forbidden Timespace was already confirmed—is it a cameo?

[125F] Wow, everyone come look—this thread’s full of antis who also moonlight as press release parrots!

——— This comment was flagged for spreading inappropriate content and has been banned. ———

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**TN

Group Ban – nickname for YZ, it’s forbidden to mention names

Lao Sheng – Old Monkey, antis nickname for YZ