In the studio, the contestants for the breakout round came on stage one after another, but the three-light moment that had once stirred up excitement like Bei He’s performance rarely appeared again.
After each contestant finished their performance, they would chat briefly with the guest panel before stepping down and returning to their seats.
Wang Nali looked toward the three laughter judges not far away and said, “There haven’t been as many three-light performances this year as last year.”
“The guests’ lights are worth 50 votes each,” Chu Duxiu mused. “So if someone gets even one light less, the gap in votes will widen. That means any contestant who doesn’t get full lights could be at risk.”
“They probably changed the rules because of last season’s setup,” Scallion added. “In the first season, the judges’ lights didn’t count as votes, but if a contestant got full lights, they’d automatically advance. In the end, more than 25 people got full lights, which meant there weren’t enough slots left for the later contestants…”
“At the time, Director Shang suggested an extra match to determine who would advance. I heard the recording went way past midnight. So this time, they simply converted the full-light qualification into vote counts instead.”
The competition format of The Stand-Up King is constantly evolving. The main role of the celebrity guests is to draw attention to the show. In the first season, many of the guests weren’t familiar with stand-up comedy and would enthusiastically hit the light after watching a performance, which led to more contestants advancing than expected.
As a result, the rules were adjusted in the second season. First, the term “Laughter Judges” was changed to “Laughter Representatives.” Then, the direct advancement rule for receiving full lights was scrapped, and each light was converted into 50 votes. They also began inviting celebrities who had actually seen stand-up comedy before.
Qiu Mingche already had a good sense of comedic taste in the previous season, while Luo Qin and Su Xinyi claimed to be fans of stand-up. Their decision to hit the light was clearly more considered—they would observe whether the other representatives were voting, and if they felt a contestant didn’t quite reach the three-light standard, they might hold back and refrain from pressing it.
The performances were still ongoing in the studio when Qiu Mingche suddenly leaned forward and said with a laugh, “I think Xinyi is really strict. Sometimes both of us have already hit the light, but you actually manage to hold back. Do you just have a really high threshold for humor?”
“It’s not that,” Su Xinyi explained awkwardly. “Sometimes I do want to hit the light, but I just can’t beat you two to it. There are some performances I really enjoy as well, but they might not quite reach the three-light standard. I end up comparing them to earlier three-light acts and hesitate…”
Luo Qin suddenly understood: “So you’re managing the vote count.”
“Exactly! It’s mostly because you two are too fast!” Su Xinyi said, regretfully clutching her wrist. “You always make me the third light!”
The other representatives burst into laughter.
Qiu Mingche suggested, “Then next time, hit the light right after the first punchline—beat us to it, and you won’t have to feel responsible.”
Luo Qin nodded, “That’s right. Let us worry about managing the vote count.”
Su Xinyi replied, “I’ll try my best.”
A moment later, the stage lights began to sweep across the room, and the urgent intro music sounded, welcoming the next performer.
“Let’s give it up for the next contestant—Chu Duxiu!”
Applause rose from the contestant area. Wang Nali and Scallion sat up straight, watching as Chu Duxiu dashed toward the stage, both of them clenching their fists and cheering, “Go, go, go!”
Amid the shouts of encouragement and the soaring music, Chu Duxiu took the stage. Under the lights, her fine hair shimmered a chestnut brown, with small braids at her temples—woven by the makeup artist—mixed into her loose, flowing hair.
She wore a thick fleece sweatshirt, its pure white fabric printed with a bold design. She exuded youthful energy, standing in sharp contrast to the deep red stage behind her.
In the audience, a staff member led the clapping. Qiu Mingche, Luo Qin, and Su Xinyi sat up straight, ready for the performance to begin.
“Hello everyone, I’m Chu Duxiu.” Facing the audience, Chu Duxiu gave a deep bow, then began her performance calmly. “Before the competition, when all the contestants arrived, the director came around to interview us, asking if we were nervous about taking part.”
“I didn’t have the heart to tell her that, as a university student preparing for the civil service exam, going home for Chinese New Year was way more nerve-wracking and stressful than this competition.”
Chu Duxiu glanced to the side, pointing toward the stage door. “Luckily, the director wasn’t my mom. She just asked, ‘How are you feeling about the competition?’ But if that studio door had been my front door, the moment I stepped through, she would’ve gone straight to—”
The next second, her voice suddenly changed—loud and rough with exaggerated force: “How’s your prep for the breakout round? Don’t act like a child! You seriously don’t know whether you’ll even get a light or not?!”
“Want me to help you find someone—maybe bribe the Laughter Reps with a few gifts? Then at least say something!”
Bang! One light lit up!
Qiu Mingche laughed and clapped, hitting the light almost on instinct.
The contestants looked at each other in surprise, and even Scallion looked hesitant. “Ah… that light was a bit early…”
The timing of the light was indeed too early—Chu Duxiu hadn’t even gotten into the main part of her routine yet. It might disrupt the rhythm of the performance. You could say Qiu Mingche was genuinely amused, but the audience might not have been fully immersed yet. Because of that early light, the overall feel of the performance could shift.
After all, only when a light is hit during a punchline does it truly elevate the performance.
On stage, Chu Duxiu also froze for a moment, as if startled by the light.
After a long pause, she shook her head, an absurd expression appearing on her face. With a thoughtful tone, she said, “I thought she was just bluffing, but turns out her connections really do run deep.”
“Could that light have been the result of my mom’s gift?”
Chu Duxiu waved her hands frantically. “Directors, feel free to look into Mr. Qiu’s relationship with my mom. I swear I’m innocent—I didn’t cheat!”
The audience burst into laughter.
In the contestant area, everyone relaxed a little, breaking into cheerful applause, their earlier confusion and surprise giving way to amusement.
Wang Nali praised, “Nice save—she pulled it back with an improvised line.”
Scallion added, “That quick thinking really was worth a light.”
Chu Duxiu, after a brief pause, smoothly picked the rhythm back up. “Chinese New Year is really something. When you first get home, it’s all joyful reunion—everything feels harmonious with your parents, and everyone’s celebrating the new year together. At that point, it’s all ‘Good fortune in the Year of the Rooster,’ ‘The golden rooster heralds the dawn,’ ‘Auspicious signs in the rooster year.’”
“But give it a couple more days after New Year’s Eve, and everything changes. Suddenly it’s ‘chaos in the henhouse,’ ‘no peace for man or beast,’ and ‘shattered eggs and broken dreams.’”
“Our ancestors had a bit of wisdom, didn’t they? Back then, they said firecrackers could drive away the Nian beast. But now fireworks are being banned altogether.” Chu Duxiu lowered her head slightly. “I sincerely suggest lifting the ban—not to chase off monsters, but just to block out my empress mother.”
“I’m genuinely afraid the fireworks on New Year’s Eve won’t be loud enough to drown out my mom’s blessings about me passing the civil service exam.”
The front-row audience laughed so hard they shook, and the cameras captured every moment.
Bei He slapped his thigh repeatedly, sighing in admiration. “Her material is always so on point. Last time it was the prelims, this time it’s right after the Spring Festival.”
“Some people experience school romances. Unfortunately, I never had the chance to fall in love as a student—but I did experience familial love during that time,” Chu Duxiu tilted her head, reminiscing. “It was so pure, so beautiful. As long as I embroidered a little green flower for my mom or told her a silly joke, she’d forgive all my ignorance and foolishness.”
“She tolerated me lying around playing on my phone, ordering takeout late at night, wearing ripped jeans like a beggar… There’s nothing that can’t be solved with a good scolding. And if one round doesn’t work—there’s always a second.”
She continued in an orderly tone, “Then I’d go right back to wearing those ripped jeans, lying in bed late at night ordering takeaway on my phone—gratefully accepting criticism, yet never changing a thing.”
The three Laughter Representatives all smiled, their full attention on her performance.
Chu Duxiu wore a dreamy expression. “I think familial love during your student years is just so wonderful—it can spark the most touching fantasies. Like, I imagine walking into a wedding chapel with my mom… and my dad officiating the ceremony as the priest, bearing witness to our love.”
Luo Qin couldn’t hold back his laughter. He raised a hand to cover his mouth and whispered, “Would your dad even agree to that?”
On stage, Chu Duxiu slowly paced back and forth, still delivering her lines with deep emotion and theatrical flair.
“He says, ‘Dear daughter, do you vow to faithfully keep this promise? Whether in poverty or wealth, sickness or health, beauty or fading looks, success or failure—will you stay loyal to her for the rest of your life?’”
“And I’d say, ‘Of course—she’s my mom!’”
“He says, ‘Do you promise, no matter what happens, that you’ll love her, annoy her, care for her, torment her—drive her into a thunderous rage, make her yell and curse—only to then drop to your knees at lightning speed and beg for forgiveness?’”
“And I’d say, ‘Of course—she’s my mom!’”
As the words landed, a wave of laughter exploded through the studio—like a burst of colorful fireworks on Chinese New Year.
Luo Qin finally doubled over from laughing, then suddenly shot out a hand and slammed the light button beside him!
Chu Duxiu spread her arms wide, gave a little shrug, and said wistfully, “It’s just that touching, just that beautiful. But after graduation, when you start working, family love isn’t quite the same anymore.”
“The main issue is, my mom doesn’t believe we can stay together forever like in a marriage vow—so she feels the only way to truly ensure that, is for me to have a job that never separates from me.”
“That’s what makes me anxious, makes me question whether she’s changed, whether she doesn’t love me anymore. Other couples get the seven-year itch—my mum and I are going through the twenty-two-year itch. Our relationship is on the rocks—we’re on the brink of divorce.”
Chu Duxiu clenched her fists, shaking them up and down dramatically in disbelief. “I was furious—I said, ‘Didn’t we vow to stick together, no matter rich or poor?’”
“And my mom said, ‘Exactly! That’s why a civil service job is perfect—low pay but stable. Poverty’s no problem at all.’”
Hahahahahaha!
The audience had long since burst into full-blown laughter. They clustered near the stage like waves crashing wildly against a cliff, their laughter rolling in over and over, echoing throughout the studio.
Two lights were already lit on stage—only Su Xinyi hadn’t pressed hers yet.
Chu Duxiu said, “My mum is a tough woman—when she was younger, she used to run small businesses…”
Scallion, hearing the familiar intro, quickly said, “Here it comes, here it comes—this part’s coming up.”
This was Chu Duxiu’s classic bit about “Give me a face” and “Give you face.” She had honed it multiple times during open mics in different cities, and combined with the new material earlier, it formed a theme centered around her mother.
The contestants all had their own stock of material, flexibly piecing it together at different times to suit the The Stand-Up King competition.
This mature performance exploded on stage, practically making the audience laugh until they fainted!
Yet no matter how lively the atmosphere, Su Xinyi didn’t reach out to hit her light. She sat with her hands folded, staring intently at Chu Duxiu, her thoughts unknown.
In the contestants’ area, after their bursts of laughter, the others also sensed something was off and began to worry about Chu Duxiu.
“Still not hitting the light? Really not going to hit it?” Nie Feng said in disbelief. “This bit never failed to get laughs in live shows.”
Lu Fan frowned. “If she misses a light, even with high audience votes, the result could still be at risk.”
“Maybe she’s not familiar with the newcomers—she did say she’s only watched the first season…”
The group whispered among themselves, quietly discussing Su Xinyi.
Cheng Junhua watched the person on stage and commented, “But her mental toughness is impressive. Usually, when newcomers don’t get lights after their jokes, their performance deteriorates, but her energy only grew stronger.”
New actors don’t have the experience of veterans; once they face audience resistance or fail to hear laughter, they quickly lose their composure and completely lose their level.
Scallion, who is an excellent performer, made a similar mistake on the day he brought Chu Duxiu to perform at the bar—when faced with an indifferent audience, he couldn’t finish his set smoothly and became awkward and stammered.
“That shouldn’t be the case—Xinyi understands stand-up comedy. Why hasn’t she hit the light yet?” Director Shang, watching on screen, rubbed her chin in puzzlement and added, “But Duxiu is really steady—she’s been killing it from start to finish.”
Xie Shenci said calmly, “Because she’s not a performer seeking applause; she gets on stage to communicate with you.”
The first time he saw Chu Duxiu at an open mic, he realized she wasn’t trying to win laughs or approval for the sake of it, but that she only summoned the courage to take the mic when she genuinely had something to express.
She is different on and off stage—many long-suppressed feelings have to be released through performance, which fuels her powerful expression.
On stage, even without getting three lights, Chu Duxiu remained unperturbed, calmly finishing her act without resorting to gimmicks to prompt the audience.
Chu Duxiu held the microphone calmly and said, “Before I came to compete, my parents saw me and my sister off at the airport. My mom said, ‘Fly—just fly.’”
“I used to think she saw us as eagles, only disappointed that we weren’t flying high enough. But now I see it differently.”
“She actually sees us as penguins. On the surface, she tells us to fly hard, but really it’s just talk,” she said softly. “Little penguins have wings but can’t really fly—they can only cling to the big penguin’s legs. When the penguin parents look down, they can always see them, and the whole family will never fly beyond the South Pole.”
“But she didn’t expect that penguins would take planes. I flew, and she was stunned.”
“Thank you, everyone. I’m Chu Duxiu!”
As the exit music played, marking the end of her performance, Su Xinyi finally pressed the last light!
All three lights on the stage lit up, sparking cheers from the crowd!
Wang Nali let out a long breath. “Thank goodness—she got three lights.”
The worried contestants all relaxed, while the audience area erupted, wave after wave of cheers filling the room and startling even the Laughter Representatives.
Amid the joy, Su Xinyi quickly grabbed the microphone and looked toward Chu Duxiu on stage, hastily explaining, “I have to clarify why I waited until the end to hit my light—it’s not that I didn’t like your performance. In fact, it was brilliant—maybe the best today.”
Her eyes sparkled as she smiled and said, “I just felt I couldn’t interrupt. I was afraid if I hit the light early, you wouldn’t finish your set.”
Luo Qin exclaimed, “You think that deeply—”
“Trying to trick me into telling another joke,” Chu Duxiu replied, half laughing, half exasperated, quietly complaining, “Who does that? You scared me to death.”
Su Xinyi said, “I have no choice. Some contestants are really sly—if they see three lights, they stop talking right away, cutting off the middle and saving the rest for later rounds.”
Chu Duxiu waved her hand and solemnly declared, “No, I’m not that kind of person. I haven’t stepped into society yet—I’m still a pure university student!”
“Oh, got it—definitely not an old hand who likes to stall,” Su Xinyi joked.
Bei He’s eyes went wide in surprise. “Whoa, wait—old hands? Who called me out?”
Su Xinyi felt a bit guilty. “Actually, I kind of regretted it halfway through. I thought, maybe I should just hit the light. Not doing so might have put psychological pressure on the contestant. But you stayed so steady throughout, completely unaffected by anything—that’s really impressive.”
“No worries, you can hit the light anytime,” Chu Duxiu replied graciously. She glanced to the side and added, “Besides, you’re good-looking, so I can forgive you.”
Su Xinyi laughed at that.
Qiu Mingche exclaimed, “Wow! You really know how to talk!”
Wang Nali whispered to Scallion, joking, “Here it comes—the passive skill appears. Guaranteed 100% female fan conversion rate.”
Su Xinyi commented, “Some performers, when discussing topics like this, can make it feel hard to find the right balance, but your emotions were just perfect. Maybe it’s because I act often and am more sensitive to emotions, but the same lines delivered by different people can feel completely different.”
“Even with ‘give me a face’ and ‘give you face,’ it doesn’t come across as mocking your mom’s speech or bitterness. You handled the tone very well.”
Su Xinyi’s eyes lit up, touched. “You’re talking about the anxiety and pressure your mom brings you, but deep down there’s still hope and love. Actually, I can feel that you’re proud of your mom.”
Chu Duxiu paused, finding it hard to describe the feeling at that moment, as if someone had touched her heart.
“Maybe,” she said, confused. “I don’t know.”
She lowered her voice and added softly, “I hope she can be proud of me too.”
She didn’t know how her mother felt now, but everything she wanted to say was expressed on stage.
“She will,” Su Xinyi said encouragingly. “After she watches our show, she’ll definitely be proud of you!”
“Hm…” Chu Duxiu pondered for a few seconds, then hesitated. “From what I know about her, if she knew what was going on, no matter who tried to persuade her, she’d stubbornly refuse to watch, insisting on being rebellious and headstrong.”
Qiu Mingche joked, “So maybe we should say you didn’t perform well, and that’s why she came to watch!”
“That makes a lot of sense—that’s exactly it,” Chu Duxiu suddenly got an idea and suggested, “Otherwise, maybe the production team can put ‘Chu Duxiu’s performance flopped’ in the title, trick my mom into watching first!”
She knew Chu Lan’s personality well and was ready to use any tactic, even clickbait, to break through her mother’s defenses!
Laughter erupted from the audience—they were all amused.
Luo Qin shook his head with a smile and admired, “This really is the twenty-two-year itch—loving her, annoying her, caring for her, tormenting her!”
