Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Hospital.

The company took Yue Zhaolin's condition seriously and arranged a thorough examination for him. No major issues were found, but he still needed to be observed for two more days.

The doctor’s instructions were simple: "Rest appropriately, avoid strenuous exercise, no alcohol, and no sedatives."

Yue Zhaolin nodded seriously.

He wasn't about to take risks with his health.

The company car was parked on the underground second floor. Yue Zhaolin zoned out watching the numbers on the elevator screen slowly descend.

He had only read about private hospitals in novels before, so it felt like something out of a story.

Somehow he'd crashed into the world of the wealthy—Yue Zhaolin found the thought amusing and chuckled to himself for no reason.

Ding. The elevator arrived.

A black car with unfamiliar plates slowly pulled up. Yue Zhaolin heard Li Man say, "This is the company’s arranged car. Get in."

The original car had been tailed by sasaeng fans, so for safety, they switched vehicles.

That tracked. Yue Zhaolin stepped forward and pulled open the car door—only to see someone unexpected inside: Fu Xunying.

Fu Xunying: "...Yue Zhaolin, your face says it all: ‘Why are you still here?’"

The car was similar to a private vehicle, with only four seats. No other choice—Yue Zhaolin sat beside Fu Xunying and slammed the door shut.

As Yue Zhaolin fastened his seatbelt, Fu Xunying asked, "Do you dislike me?"

"You're imagining things."

Fu Xunying looked puzzled. "If you have any issues with me, you can just say it. After all, on the show, we still have to play up the fanservice."

"You..."

Yue Zhaolin spoke up.

Fu Xunying leaned in attentively, but Yue Zhaolin’s tone was neutral. "You're being kinda sensitive."

Fu Xunying was stunned: "..."

What?

How was *he* the sensitive one?!

Yue Zhaolin pulled out his phone, opened TikTok, and searched for his own name. "I know what my job entails."

Yue Zhaolin had long understood that it didn’t matter what Fu Xunying—this supposed "prince"—looked like or how he behaved.

Yue Zhaolin was just here to do his job and get paid.

Fu Xunying was part of the job. To put it bluntly—in Yue Zhaolin’s mind, he was basically a prop.

Besides, Fu Xunying’s skills were nothing to write home about, but since he kept his head down, he was tolerable.

So, Yue Zhaolin’s impression of Fu Xunying was: indifference.

Dislike?

That was a more intense emotion.

Yue Zhaolin: "I don’t dislike you. I was just surprised to see you in the car."

"Then I realized—you waiting here is also part of the fanservice setup."

On-camera moments from survival shows were prime shipping material, but when fans dug them up themselves, it was twice as satisfying.

Stellaris’s emphasis on Fu Xunying was obvious—they were already laying the groundwork.

Fu Xunying felt he should say something, but he was at a loss for words: "..."

By the time he finally gathered his thoughts, Yue Zhaolin had already put on his headphones. It left him as frustrated as a comeback that came too late.

Yue Zhaolin was watching his own fancam.

Calm? Of course he wasn’t calm. The moment he saw the number of likes, he felt his retirement was looking good.

Yue Zhaolin was self-aware—he was shallow and loved money.

The higher the popularity, the wider his smile grew.

He opened the comments section, which was flooded with gushing praise and thirst, each comment with hundreds of thousands of likes.

"I've never seen anyone like you, Your Highness."

"Writing the dream girl bible."

"It’s so hot—Yue Zhaolin, what's in that water?!"

"How is this camera so steady? Bare-faced but his eyes could reel you in."

"That bite guard is doing things to me, I can almost imagine his breathing beneath it."

"My mom asked why I keep replaying this song. I said I'm obsessed."

"So handsome I want to burn down my school."

"0:06—that slight look of disdain when he lifts his head. The dominant vibes are unreal."

"Before seeing his face: a royal feast. After seeing his face: the main course of all main courses."

"I'm not obsessed with Yue Zhaolin. This is all part of my plan. Everything is going according to plan. This is fine—I'm thriving actually."

"God."

"If beauty was a superpower..."

"This song choice is perfect. His expressions are unmatched—both detached and divine, like he’s above us mere mortals."

The feeling of being praised was like a drug.

Yue Zhaolin thought.

As he scrolled through more videos, the feed cut out—maybe due to spotty service—and froze for a few seconds before refreshing.

It was brief, but in that moment, he felt strangely empty.

Yue Zhaolin jolted back to reality as if pulled from another world. He heard something and hit pause on the screen.

The assistant in the front seat was on a phone call, speaking quietly to confirm something with the other end, then saying they needed to change routes.

Yue Zhaolin: "..."

His lashes lowered slightly as he switched to another app, searched for his vertical fancam, and clicked play, watching it over and over again.

Vertical fancams showed everything clearly.

Any missteps or swallowed movements by Yue Zhaolin were painfully obvious.

Fu Xunying had been watching him for ages before leaning over. "You've been watching it the whole ride—still not done? Quite the narcissist, huh?" From Douyin to Bilibili.

Like staring at his own reflection.

Fu Xunying wanted to laugh, and he did. He'd been stewing over losing their earlier argument the entire trip, and now he finally had a chance to get back at him.

Yue Zhaolin shrank back.

Fu Xunying noticed his obvious evasion. "...Still claiming you don’t hate me?"

"I have mysophobia."

"..."

Yeah, right.

Being too close to another man—even if they were the same gender—was something Yue Zhaolin still wasn’t used to.

His former roommates had all naturally gave him space.

Yue Zhaolin still wasn’t comfortable with it.

Seeing Fu Xunying’s skeptical expression, Yue Zhaolin didn’t blink and answered his earlier question. "Watching the fancam is to check my form."

Fu Xunying: "?"

Review? He tried to process the word before finally realizing—

Why are you sweating it?

We’re at the same skill level. If you grind, what am I supposed to do?

Fu Xunying was about to say something when suddenly, someone banged on the window—"BANG!"

The street was crowded, and though the car wasn’t moving fast, the speed wasn’t low either. The abrupt noise made Fu Xunying jump badly.

"Yue Zhaolin!"

Someone outside shouted, "You’re in there, right? I know you can hear me!"

The car had one-way glass, so they could see the person outside—a masked figure leaning out from another car.

That’s dangerous!

The assistant rolled her eyes and told the driver to keep steady before telling the guys in back. "Sasaengs don’t count as fans. Just ignore them."

Fu Xunying frowned.

"Yue Zhaolin," the person kept shouting, "just lower the window. Let me see you. I’ll leave once I know you’re okay."

Fu Xunying asked, "You believe that?"

Who would?

Stellaris ran special training courses for the entertainment industry, especially idol economics, which covered topics like sasaengs and private interactions.

Yue Zhaolin didn’t answer, his gaze lingering on the youthful face outside—just their eyes showing above the mask—before finally looking away.

"Want to switch seats?"

Fu Xunying: "Huh? No need."

As long as the window stayed shut, it was just noise. But Yue Zhaolin offering to switch seats threw Fu Xunying off a little.

This guy—mouthy, but decent.

·

Stellaris.

The sasaeng incident on the road had got the higher-ups worked up. Though anticipated, the fan’s boldness was next-level.

"Have Yue Zhaolin move into the pre-selected dorm ahead of schedule."

The new dorm would be more secure.

The company had spelled it out: Yue Zhaolin and Fu Xunying would be sent to the survival show. Other trainees’ feelings? Didn’t matter.

Those who used to room with Yue Zhaolin? The company had already milked them for all they were worth—using them for leaks and hype.

Now, discarded after use.

Cold, but that’s showbiz.

"Perfect. He’ll room with Fu Xunying," Li Man said. "Get them used to each other."

Fanservice took skill.

And needed serious practice.

Living together was phase one.

Yue Zhaolin had known this was coming, but when the notice arrived, he still couldn’t hide his reaction—a quiet look of doom.

His fate was sealed.

The thought of living with a hundred men on the show felt like occupational hazard—except no compensation for this.

So after moving in, Fu Xunying took to it way easier than Yue Zhaolin, even gloating a little—until the next intermediate test wrecked him:

Holding hands.

On survival shows, guys holding hands happened all the time—casually, or during rankings.

The moment their hands touched, Fu Xunying instantly ripped his hand back, freaked out. "Ugh... Doesn’t this give you the creeps?"

"And kinda... gross."

Yue Zhaolin understood, but after waiting for Fu Xunying to take his time, he noticed the other was still hesitating, clearly reluctant.

"......"

Today, management had assigned tasks to both of them—aside from holding hands finger-to-finger with their roommate, they also had to shake hands with ten others as part of the challenge.

The checkpoint targets were limited to the same gender.

The company's intention was clear—exposure therapy was always the most effective method.

Taking advantage of the peak work hours, they aimed to finish quickly. Yue Zhaolin, who wanted to head to the practice room in the afternoon, was particularly focused.

But then he was held up by Fu Xunying.

Yue Zhaolin raised his hand and checked the time. He had already spent an hour with Fu Xunying, and the practice room he booked was only five minutes away.

He'd had enough.

"Come here."

"?"

With a cold expression, Yue Zhaolin reached out. Before Fu Xunying could react, he recorded a video with his left hand while forcibly interlocking fingers with his right.

"Ahhhh—"

Fu Xunying let out a shrill scream.

·

Stellaris, Monday weekly meeting.

The discussion still revolved around Yue Zhaolin.

Liu, the head of corporate marketing, spoke up, "Zhou Tao mentioned that Yue Zhaolin has been constantly practicing lately and making rapid progress?"

"Yes."

Liu: "Tell him to stop teaching. Yue Zhaolin doesn’t need to improve—his current level is more than enough. I’d even prefer it if he were worse."

Lacking skill was the simplest, most exploitable angle for controversy-driven marketing.

The official recording of *Starlight* was scheduled for a little over a month later, with registration closing in a week. But Stellaris had already begun its gradual rollout of promotions.

Then the music festival happened. The fan recordings hardly focused on his dancing—his flawless face and figure stole all the attention.

Stellaris was equal parts frustrated and thrilled.

They’d have to spend more on marketing later.

"As for the person who hurled the bottle at the music festival, the authorities have identified them, but the investigation still needs some time."

The incident had caused significant public pressure, so the authorities were proceeding carefully.

Liu suggested they could time the announcement for another wave of social media trends.

Everyone nodded.

Zou, who had been a judge alongside Liu during auditions, smiled and said, "Zhang Wei from Phantom Sound and Yuan Qiming from Lightshadow both called."

Someone took a sip of tea and chuckled. "Right now, Yue Zhaolin is *Starlight*’s most buzzworthy contestant. Everyone wants in on his success."

"Exactly."

"Yue Zhaolin’s current popularity overshadows the show itself. Those desperate calls? Just desperate attempts to cash in on our success."

Everyone knew this was a shortcut.

Meng Yu knew too.

He left Birchwood Entertainment, rented a small room, and sent his new resume to *Starlight*’s casting submissions.

His status changed from "Birchwood Entertainment trainee" to "unsigned artist."

Meng Yu knew that alone wouldn’t make the production team give him a second look. So, he added something else—

At the Chaozhou Music Festival, the hand that had reached out to block Yue Zhaolin from the glass bottle was the most compelling selling point of his resume.

In the top-left corner of the resume, a young man with delicate, gentle features wore a faint smile.