Du Xiu Chapter 52

As the dinner drew to a close, the top eight contestants were finally able to excuse themselves and gradually gathered at the restaurant entrance.

In the hall, Shang Liang was arranging transportation. After doing a headcount, he asked in confusion, “Where’s Mr. Cheng?”

Chu Duxiu had been seated next to Cheng Junhua during the meal. Hesitantly, she replied, “…Mr. Cheng said he wasn’t feeling well and went back first to rest. He was worried about dampening the mood.”

The excuse sounded perfectly reasonable, but she knew it was nothing but a pretense—he had slipped away because he couldn’t take it anymore!

Before leaving, Cheng Junhua had even invited the Rookie Queen to escape with him. Unfortunately, she was too timid to do such a thing and had stubbornly held on until the end, following the group’s plans.

“Well…” Shang Liang frowned, the words on the tip of his tongue swallowed back slowly. “Alright, then there must be an empty seat in your vehicle, right?”

“Yes.”

“Take Mr. Xie along. I’ll handle the wrap-up here. Let him head back first.”

Bei He joked with a grin, “Mr. Xie is the big shot’s backup.”

Under Shang Liang’s clear directions, the group split into smaller clusters and began making their way toward their respective vehicles.

Outside, beneath the dim glow of the streetlights, Xie Shenci strode ahead with long, purposeful steps, moving straight forward without pause. He didn’t glance back, leaving only his tall, slender silhouette against the night as he walked in silence, his destination unclear.

Chu Duxiu and Bei He followed behind, struggling slightly to keep up with his pace.

Quickening her steps, Chu Duxiu called out in confusion, “Mr. Xie, which car did you arrive in?”

They had nearly reached the edge of the parking lot, yet he showed no intention of stopping.

“Hmm?”

Carried by the night breeze, Xie Shenci heard her but didn’t quite catch the words. He came to an abrupt halt, unaware of how close she was behind him, and nearly collided with her.

Chu Duxiu stopped just in time, avoiding a direct bump.

Instead of apologizing as he usually would, he leaned down, tilting his ear toward her and signaling for her to repeat herself. For some reason, the tips of his ears were tinged pink, and his movements seemed slightly sluggish.

As the distance between them closed abruptly, Chu Duxiu caught a faint, pleasant scent of alcohol—not overpowering, but fresh with notes of citrus, apple, and mint, intertwined with the sweetness of honey and lychee. It was likely the champagne served at the dinner.

Though he had only brought his ear closer, his warm breath, already steeped in the fragrance of wine, drifted gently with the evening breeze, lingering softly in the air.

“Which car did you come in?” Bei He repeated loudly, then scanned the parking area and remarked with piercing insight, “Boss, stop leading the way blindly. If you’re drunk, just slow down. It’s exhausting trying to keep up with you.”

Bei He immediately saw through Xie Shenci’s unusual behavior, realizing that his haphazard guidance was likely due to a foggy mind and no clear destination in mind.

Xie Shenyi straightened up, his expression calm but his tone dazed, “I’m not drunk, just a bit dizzy.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course you’re not drunk. But we’re heading to the parking lot, not the airport—no need to take such giant strides.”

Bei He glanced down at his phone and instructed, “You two wait here for a moment. I’ll have the car come to us. Where on earth has Mr. Xie led us?”

As Bei He waved toward a car in the distance, Chu Duxiu quickly asked, “Should we just wait here?”

“Yep. He gets tipsy after just a little alcohol—his tolerance isn’t great,” Bei He explained, taking a few steps forward to direct the driver from afar before turning back to add, “Keep an eye on him for now, and make sure he doesn’t wander off. When he’s drunk, he tends to just roam the streets. Once, after a victory party, he decided to walk all the way back to the office—scared us half to death.”

That night, their troublesome boss had gone missing, causing everyone endless worry.

“…Okay.”

Chu Duxiu was now entrusted with the important task of acting as Xie Shenci’s temporary guardian, making sure he didn’t run off somewhere.

The sky had long been painted in thick ink, with only a hazy, veil-like moonlight slowly draping over the bustling night scene. In the parking lot, several streetlights pushed back the darkness, occasionally revealing the bright red taillights of cars—like the eyes of steel beasts.

The cool outdoor air gently cut through the warm haze of alcohol.

Chu Duxiu had also indulged in a few glasses, but her mind remained clear. She studied Xie Shenci carefully and noticed a faint mistiness in his otherwise ink-black eyes. The top button of his shirt was undone, his collar slightly disheveled, giving him an unusually relaxed and careless appearance.

He did seem different from usual.

But the champagne had hints of mint—not catnip—so how could it be so intoxicating?

Its alcohol content was almost as low as fruit juice, mostly just effervescent bubbles and a delicate sweetness. Wasn’t it essentially just sugary water?

To be so susceptible to alcohol felt like something straight out of a novel’s female lead trope—no wonder Mr. Shang had suggested he leave early.

Xie Shenci, under her intense gaze, stood still for a moment, lost in thought. With one hand in his pocket, he suddenly lifted his leg, paced a small circle in place, and then began heading toward the entrance—only to be promptly stopped by her.

“Hold on, hold on—where do you think you’re going?” Chu Duxiu extended a hand to block his path as she saw him trying to slip away. “Stay right where you are.”

Even with her standing there, her eyes fixed firmly on him, she couldn’t fully restrain him. He actually had the audacity to try and escape right under her nose, using the champagne as an excuse to wander the streets in the middle of the night.

Caught red-handed by her, Xie Shenci let out a barely audible, “Hmph.”

Chu Duxiu waved a hand in front of his face, curiosity piqued. “Mr. Xie, are you really drunk?”

He responded with utmost seriousness, “Not drunk. Just dizzy.”

Chu Duxiu raised one index finger and asked, “What number is this?”

“One.”

She then raised another index finger, placing both side by side in front of him. “And what number is this?”

“Two.”

Chu Duxiu shook her head and sighed, “No, this is eleven. Seems like you’re drunk—can’t even count properly anymore.”

Xie Shenci: “?”

Xie Shenci protested, “You’re bullying me.”

“Yep. Feel free to call the police if you want,” Chu Duxiu declared with mock seriousness. “Bei He was too naïve, entrusting you to me so confidently. But I’m not exactly a good person—I’ll abduct you now and hold you for ransom.”

It had to be said, Xie Shenci’s slightly delayed reactions were rather amusing, stirring a mischievous urge to tease and ruffle him up. Usually, he carried a certain aloof elegance, but now he was thoroughly softened by the fragrant champagne, like a pliable lump of dough that could be kneaded and shaped at will.

Xie Shenci tilted his head. “Ransom for what?”

“I don’t know,” she mused. “Maybe something like ‘The Stand-Up King or something.”

“If that’s what you want, you don’t need to abduct me. You might get it anyway.”

“Then I’ll force you to write material, and I’ll perform it…” Chu Duxiu said with growing interest. “Wait, no—I should force you to perform the material yourself.”

After all, he had failed miserably the last time he tried to perform, so the latter seemed far more intimidating.

“Fine by me.”

“What?”

“Abducting me is fine too.” His eyes, glistening with the warmth of alcohol, caught the light and shimmered like a fierce, bright flame. “If I really get abducted, it won’t just be about performing material—I might end up saying all sorts of other things too.”

Chu Duxiu had woven her own trap and now felt scalded by his words.

Her heartbeat suddenly quickened, surging with nervousness and guilt—just like when Cheng Junhua had told her to call Xie Shenci earlier. Logically, neither of them had ever used their positions for personal gain, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling of being caught red-handed, as if some hidden secret had been exposed.

Xie Shenci, on the other hand, remained perfectly composed. He blinked slowly, as though unsure whether his words had even passed through his mind before being spoken.

He had always been considerate yet impeccably restrained—just like when he’d asked for Qi Yunhan’s autographed photo, only to end up giving it to all the contestants.

Fairness was non-negotiable, whether out of respect for his position or consideration for her circumstances.

Even as their bond grew stronger, they could never quite return to the carefree chaos of “Typoon Transit.” They were always restrained by the competition’s structure, maintaining a certain distance and exercising restraint—unable to ride the crest of the white-capped waves with true freedom.

But if he were abducted, he’d escape these confines.

Chu Duxiu had initially meant it as a joke, a way to divert his attention and keep him from wandering off into the streets. Now, however, her lips pressed tightly together, her heart pounding like a restless drum. A foolish impulse stirred within her—mostly because he was just too easy to tease. She found herself genuinely debating whether “kidnapping might be better than asking.”

How many years in prison would that get her? And would Shanle really collapse without him?

Noticing her turn away without responding or engaging further, Xie Shenci added, “Let’s go for a walk together, just the two of us.”

Chu Duxiu was taken aback, a flicker of panic crossing her face as she replied stiffly, “Where to?”

“Let’s wander the streets and walk back to the hotel. It’s only about ten kilometers.”

“…”

The next second, she flatly refused, her tone icy. “Thanks, but no thanks. If you want me dead, there are simpler ways.”

Before long, Bei He and the driver arrived in the car to pick up the two who had been waiting.

Xie Shenci stood outside the vehicle and said to Bei He in the passenger seat, “Let’s go for a walk together.”

“Huh?” Bei He looked puzzled. “The three of us? What is there to do this late at night?”

Xie Shenci said, “Let’s wander the streets and walk back—”

Bei He immediately waved his hand. “Get him in the car and don’t let him out.”

“Got it.”

Chu Duxiu pulled the car door open and unceremoniously shoved him inside.

The final episode of “King of Stand-Up Comedy” was officially scheduled, and preparations for all related matters were in full swing.

Meanwhile, the program team released the latest episode on time. As Shang Xiaomei had predicted, the semi-final content quickly surged to the top of search trends. Chu Duxiu’s performance video went viral, and the showdown among the female contestants generated significant buzz, simultaneously stirring up a storm of controversy.

While opinions were divided, there was no denying that the episode had sparked massive discussion.

[Such sharp writing! This is international special-level material!]

[At the beginning, I hesitated: “Can they really air this?” By the end, I was thrilled: “They can absolutely air this!”]

[Why did the entire female group get a free pass? Didn’t the men advance on merit too!?]

[It wasn’t a free pass—Tigress was eliminated. Sorry, I don’t remember her real name.]

[The women absolutely killed it this episode. The men were unwatchable—don’t even talk about merit; they were just coasting, one after another.]

[Tigress should make a comeback. She used to be pretty weak, but she was great this time.]

[Friends who like Tigress, please vote for Wang Nali! There’s a chance she could be revived for the finals—let Nali return to where she came from (shy).]

[Watching Chu’s performance moved me to tears—and it’s even more ironic when you consider reality. The female contestants put genuine effort into their writing every round, while the male contestants often just coast.]

[Seriously!! Bei He has always been a slacker, but even Cheng Junhua—who’s been hyped for so long—has been underwhelming except in his head-to-head with Chu. He’s not even as consistent as Lu Fan!]

[But Cheng’s peak is higher.]

[If this were a points-based competition, the rankings would’ve been decided long before the finals: champion Chu, runner-up Lu, and either Bei or Cheng for third place.]

[I didn’t like Chu’s set this time. The message felt off—beneath her usual standard, like she’s taking a cheap shot.]

[Perfect! The fact that you don’t like it is exactly why I do (sarcastic doge).]

[Is joking about killing your dad really funny?? So tasteless—it disrespects stand-up comedy as an art form.]

[Comedians abroad joke about shootings too. I don’t find her particularly sharp—is this really offensive?]

[Yeah, yeah, the Rookie Queen is slipping—yet she still won by a landslide and got the highest votes in all four semi-final rounds. She’s taking “cheap shots” while others can’t even find the target (sarcastic doge).]

[…I’m worried this might affect her. Maybe she shouldn’t have gone there.]

[Worried my ass! People spread malicious rumors about women in real-life news stories all the time—what’s the big deal if she tells a few jokes?]

[We need more female comedians. Lu and Wang didn’t address it directly, but they touched on it sideways: Lu talked about “English teachers marrying rich men,” and Wang discussed “actresses and coal tycoons.” It perfectly echoes Chu’s point about societal stereotypes toward women.]

[Why are so many people losing it? When Cheng joked about innate biological traits, nobody reacted this strongly. He talked about humans spreading viruses and warfare—isn’t that the same type of ironic social commentary as Chu’s? That’s what stand-up comedy is.]

[Criticizing humanity is fine; criticizing men is not (sarcastic doge).]

[Oh, I get it. Let me rephrase: men aren’t human.]

The outstanding performances of the female contestants left a deep impression on viewers, leading to a surge in votes for Wang Nali, who rocketed into the top three in the revival poll. Her vote count increased daily, and based on the current trend, she stood a strong chance of re-entering the finals.

After the latest episode aired, Chu Duxiu undoubtedly became the most talked-about contestant, even overshadowing Cheng Junhua in terms of buzz. Some praised her for “single-handedly elevating the show’s quality to a new level,” while others criticized her for “gaining attention through divisive and controversial themes, which is disgraceful.”

Chu Duxiu’s reception varied widely depending on the platform’s gender demographics—whether it was predominantly female or male.

Of course, whether praised or criticized, every platform was discussing her, marking a true breakthrough moment for the show.

Wang Nali and Scallion had been browsing online intensively every day, but neither expected their friend to be thrust into the spotlight of controversy. Now, they spoke to Chu Duxiu with extra caution, worried that the online public opinion might affect her emotionally.

Chu Duxiu found this both amusing and frustrating. In truth, she didn’t care much about others’ evaluations—just as Xie Shenci had said, she had expressed herself fully and wasn’t concerned with how people responded.

Still, her friends’ concern was heartwarming, and it inevitably went to her head a little. Occasionally, she would play the victim, sprawled on her bed pretending to be fragile and heartbroken, even managing to scam a milk tea out of Wang Nali as petty revenge for the time Wang had forgotten to order her takeout.

Of course, once her act was exposed, Chu Duxiu was duly sanctioned by Wang Nali, who treated her to dessert the next day as payback.

The finals of The Stand-Up King arrived as scheduled, and unlike the pre-recorded earlier rounds, this episode was broadcast live.

Lingguo Video took it extremely seriously, promoting it heavily on their homepage well in advance and preparing the live stream page early. Even before the competition officially began, the live stream window was flooded with viewers. They chatted enthusiastically in the live comments, spamming the still-dark screen with messages.

Backstage in the studio, Shang Xiaomei sat before a screen, having just completed the technical rehearsal and double-checked numerous details. “Has Mr. Shang finalized the product placements? Any last-minute additions?”

“The final list is out. If there are any last-minute changes, we’ll be notified, but it’s mostly just guest endorsements.”

“Is Mr. Xie already on his way to pick them up?”

“Yes, he’s fetching the top executives from Lingguo Video. He might not make it back here afterward.”

“Alright, everything is in place—all we need is the east wind.” Shang Xiaomei rubbed her hands together excitedly. “I hope we get some spectacular performances tonight. It’d be a shame to waste months of anticipation.”

This was the show’s most critical episode—the finals. Everyone was running nonstop, working tirelessly to ensure nothing went wrong.

In the dressing room, the top nine contestants were getting their makeup done, each feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. They stood before the mirrors, constantly adjusting their outfits, almost wishing for a complete transformation as they were polished into dazzling, radiant versions of themselves.

“Is this even me?” Scallion, no longer wearing his usual plaid shirt, stared into the mirror for a while before rubbing his eyes in disbelief. “This is way too stylish.”

Wang Nali, who had barely made it into the top nine through the revival vote, was once again clinging to her spot in the finals. She hurriedly warned him, “Stop rubbing your eyes! The makeup artist just said the more you rub, the more your eyeshadow will smudge. You’ll end up looking like a panda.”

Chu Duxiu had already changed and wasn’t joining her friends’ conversation. Instead, she was focused on her phone, fiddling with it quietly.

Noticing her silence, the two exchanged glances, their eyes darting around with a hint of concern.

Wang Nali asked, feigning nonchalance, “What are you looking at?”

Scallion rubbed his nose, lowered his head, and gently suggested, “I’ve been avoiding the internet lately to keep the pressure off before the finals.”

Chu Duxiu knew exactly what they were hinting at. She quickly turned her phone around to show them the screen, smiling wryly. “No, it’s not that. I’m not browsing online—I’m texting my mom.”

“What did your mom say?”

“She told me not to slouch during the live broadcast because it’ll look bad on camera.”

“?”

Wang Nali and Scallion immediately straightened their backs, took a deep breath, and suddenly carried themselves with the poise of idols putting on a confident front.

Scallion said, “She’s not wrong. We might only get this one chance to shine—it’s like a wedding video. Gotta look our best.”

Wang Nali chimed in, “The highlight moment of our lives.”

Chu Duxiu continued typing out her WeChat message, responding to her mother’s oddly specific concern before casually sending over her return flight details.

However, when Chu Lan saw the flight itinerary, she reacted with uncharacteristic resistance, awkwardly insisting that her daughter should contact Shi Qin instead and not bother sending it to her.

Lately, mother and daughter had been communicating daily, but they carefully avoided any mention of the show—especially after the online controversy surrounding Chu Duxiu exploded. Shi Qin had even comforted his daughter in the family group chat, urging her not to mind the gossip, but Chu Lan had remained silent on the matter.

Every day after waking up, Chu Lan would chat with her daughter for a bit—mostly about trivial matters, daily happenings, or amusing gossip about acquaintances.

Perhaps it was just her nature: she didn’t know how to comfort people properly, believing that kind, soothing words were useless. Instead, she dealt with potential issues by diverting attention elsewhere.

It reminded Chu Duxiu of her childhood. Back then, she’d briefly taken up painting with fleeting enthusiasm. Chu Lan had scoffed at her new hobby, but if anyone else dared say Chu Duxiu’s paintings were bad or that she had no talent, Chu Lan would fly into a rage, scolding them fiercely—com forgetting her own earlier disdain and insisting that Chu Duxiu’s work was actually quite good.

Her mother didn’t know how to say kind things—only harsh, pointed ones.

Chu Duxiu put away her phone, feeling a sudden surge of determination she couldn’t quite explain. A wave of courage washed over her, and she found herself eagerly anticipating the start of the finals.

She wanted to win a championship—just once—and hear her mother say something nice.