Du Xiu Chapter 54

The studio was filled with laughter and cheers, with the live audience raising their arms and swaying their hands, thoroughly invigorated after enjoying the first performance.

The live comment section was equally lively, as the number of viewers on the live stream page continued to grow, all eagerly discussing the show they had just watched.

[Openly mixing ads into the jokes! Bei He truly lives up to being a theater pro!]

[Is Bei He stepping up his game? Really? I don’t believe it. Send him to the Knockout round for an encore (dog head).]

[What offline event?]

[Welcome to Wenxiao Theater to watch Shanle Stand-up Comedy! Choose open mic for budget-friendly options, commercial shows for quality, and sign up as a volunteer if you want to interact with the performers!]

The performance concluded, and Bei He made his way to the other side of the stage, awaiting the announcement of the first-round rankings. Seated alone, he waved to the actors across from him, his right leg bouncing leisurely with an air of relieved contentment.

The other contestants, seeing this, were momentarily speechless yet unable to do anything about it from a distance.

Lu Fan remarked, “Now he’s getting all cocky.”

“Did Bei He use his final-round material? He doesn’t just have one set, does he?”

“Send him into the Knockout round and let him dust off some other jokes!”

The group burst into laughter, easing the tension and lightening the mood.

In the first round of the open-topic competition, only the top three would advance to the final four, meaning most contestants would have to enter the Knockout round. The Knockout round followed a six-into-one elimination format, offering very slim odds of victory. As a result, many chose to use their best material early to avoid elimination before the finals, where they might never get a chance to perform it.

Bei He volunteered to take the opening slot, while the other contestants drew lots to determine their performance order, proceeding onstage in an orderly sequence.

Cheng Junhua, as usual, sat in the front row, watching the competition with unwavering focus. He always tucked himself into a corner, with someone seated only on one side and a railing marking the section boundary on the other, forming a stable triangular-like arrangement. He rarely engaged in casual chatter with the other contestants.

Chu Duxiu sat in the back row, next to Wang Nali and Scallion, forming an inseparable trio. She enjoyed the performances on stage while bantering lightly with her friends, occasionally chiming in with a remark or two, her demeanor as natural and relaxed as ever.

Though no one explicitly said it, there was a silent consensus that these two were shoo-ins for the top three.

The skill ceiling of the veteran and the rising star clearly set them apart from the rest. It was as if they were dueling at the mountaintop while the others fought on the slopes—always with a noticeable gap between them.

The only uncertainty was who would receive more votes this time.

Before long, the preceding contestants finished their performances, and it was time for the heavyweight to take the stage.

The announcement echoed through the venue: “Now, let’s welcome the next contestant—Cheng Junhua!”

Cheng Junhua rose unhurriedly, drew a slow, deep breath like a preparatory move in Tai Chi, and then made his way toward the dazzling, brightly lit stage.

The others began murmuring, “Here he comes!”

“Wonder how the veteran will perform today…”

“My guess is he’ll bring out his special material—it’s now or never!”

Amid the murmurs and whispers, Chu Duxiu held her breath, her eyes fixed intently on the stage as she awaited Cheng Junhua’s first-round performance.

In the guest area, the laughter representatives broke into unanimous applause upon seeing Cheng Junhua take the stage. Clearly familiar with his stature, they offered warm and heartfelt respect, which he humbly acknowledged with a modest wave.

Several beams of white light focused on the standing microphone, illuminating Cheng Junhua at the center of the stage. He grasped the mic unhurriedly, his voice still soft and measured, yet carrying a compelling, deliberate rhythm that captivated the audience.

“Hello everyone, I’m Cheng Junhua. After the show aired, many viewers commented that I pretend to be easygoing but don’t really interact with other stand-up comedians. Now, at the finals, I finally have a chance to clear the air.”

“Using this stage, I’d like to make a formal statement…” He lowered his head, touched his nose, and said, “The viewers are right. I am pretending to be easygoing—I’m actually genuinely socially anxious.”

Luo Qin and Su Xinyi smiled faintly at his remark.

“I’m sure some people might doubt this—like, ‘Come on, you’re a stand-up comedian. How can you have social anxiety?’”

Cheng Junhua looked slightly embarrassed: “Well, let me ask you this: Why do you think I became a stand-up comedian instead of performing two-person manzai or group crosstalk?”

Laughter rippled through the audience.

“I can just imagine: if one day I found Aladdin’s lamp and a genie popped out—a big, blue-skinned guy—asking me, ‘Do you have any wishes?’”

“I’d probably hesitate for a few seconds, then ask him, ‘Can I just scan a QR code to place my order? Ideally without having to talk to anyone?’”

“Or maybe I’d make a wish like, ‘Could you just go back into the lamp? I’m socially anxious.’”

The first laughter indicator light lit up abruptly!

Crisp, clear laughter echoed through the studio, like a cascade of silver bells, one wave following another.

Bei He was taken aback and whispered to the person beside him, “The veteran has social anxiety? I thought he just disliked me and that’s why he usually ignored me.”

Lu Fan analyzed with deadpan seriousness. “Having social anxiety and disliking you aren’t mutually exclusive, though.”

Bei He: “?”

Feeling both amused and exasperated, Bei He replied, “Ms. Lu, if they named you ‘Fan’ (sail), it was so you could ride the winds and waves in the ocean—not so you could casually stir up trouble in the ‘he’ (river). Why pick on the easy target and avoid the tough ones?”

“Just kidding—I wouldn’t really wish for the genie to go back. That would be too hurtful,” Cheng Junhua shrugged. “After all, I’m someone who pretends to be easygoing. I can’t ruin my image.”

“I’ve noticed something interesting: the more someone lacks something, the more they tend to show it off. Like me—I don’t enjoy socializing, but I’m afraid people will notice, so I always act super friendly.”

“Occasionally, I even become talkative or perform stand-up, just to avoid hearing people say, ‘Hey, did you know? He’s socially anxious.’”

“But no matter how hard I try, it never seems to work. They still say, ‘Hey, did you know? He’s socially anxious…’”

The next second, he leaned closer to the microphone and added mysteriously, “…about not engaging in more conversations. Seriously, he’s desperate for you to bother him. It’s a cry for help.”

The second laughter indicator lit up, filling the venue with joy and amusement.

“Some people might ask, ‘Why not just speak up?'” Cheng Junhua explained. “Maybe it’s because I’m a bit odd and also somewhat insecure. I see it as a weakness that I have to overcome, which probably stems from my upbringing. In my family, speaking up never worked.”

“Many of you might have had similar experiences. When you were young and struggled with something, the adults always thought it was your fault. For example, I’ve had diarrhea from drinking milk since I was a kid. My family was convinced that my stomach just couldn’t handle ‘the good stuff,’ so they insisted on giving me fresh milk every day. Regular milk wasn’t enough—it had to be the premium, freshest kind.”

“I told them directly back then, ‘I don’t want to drink it, it makes me sick.'”

“But they were firm. They’d say, ‘Don’t be so fussy! You need to toughen up and learn to overcome difficulties. It’ll be better for you in the long run!'”

Cheng Junhua shook his head helplessly and sighed. “Listening to them, you’d think that me not drinking milk would single-handedly hinder the great rejuvenation of the Chinese nation. That wasn’t just ordinary milk—it was the very soul of our nation flowing from the Yangtze and Yellow Rivers!”

“Drink it! You must drink it! If you don’t drink it, you’re not even Chinese!”

The third laughter indicator lit up, and cheers filled the air.

Audience members in the front rows clapped in agreement, while even the fellow contestants shook their heads in admiration.

Chu Duxiu listened to the veteran’s routine, hesitated for a few seconds, and then said with a conflicted expression, “Oh no, I just thought of a bit, but I can’t say it—Bei He is sitting all the way over there, not here with us.”

Wang Nali asked curiously, “What’s the bit? Go on, tell us.”

Lowering her voice conspiratorially, Chu Duxiu whispered, “If you don’t want to drink the milk, you can give it to Bei He. It’s like heaven itself is rewarding him with milk.”

“HAHAHAHAHA!”

Cheng Junhua continued, “How long did this go on? Well, it lasted until I went abroad and learned a foreign language. That’s when I discovered that the word for ‘difficulty’ isn’t just ‘difficulty’—it has another name: ‘rutangbunai.”

“Rutangbunai?” Qi Yunhan repeated the English pronunciation with a puzzled look, tilting his head as he asked, “What does that mean?”

“What does it mean? Lactose intolerance,” Cheng Junhua replied calmly. “It wasn’t that I was just feeling unwell—I was lactose intolerant. That’s why I had diarrhea.”

Qi Yunhan’s expression shifted to sudden understanding, followed by an amused laugh as he leaned back in his seat.

“But even after I learned all this, I kept the old habit. I still drink milk occasionally—it’s too deeply ingrained. In fact, I was shocked when my foreign friends told me they couldn’t eat nuts, eggs, seafood, chicken, tomatoes, or celery because they’d feel sick or have allergic reactions.”

“After all, I’m just lactose intolerant. They seem to be intolerant of… everything.”

“I’d cautiously ask them…” he said with a mix of surprise and hesitation, “‘Are you a vegetarian? Or perhaps you’re a plant—surviving on photosynthesis?’”

The room erupted in waves of laughter.

“If we were particularly close, I’d even offer them the same warm, familial advice: ‘Don’t be so fussy! You need to toughen up and learn to overcome difficulties. It’ll be better for you in the long run!’”

“This isn’t just any ordinary nut—this is the very torch held by the Statue of Liberty! If you don’t eat this nut, how will you illuminate the prosperous American Dream?”

“Eat it! You must eat it! If you don’t eat it, you’re not a true American!”

All four laughter indicators lit up across the stage, and the audience roared with cheers.

The laughter representatives grinned from ear to ear, unable to resist clapping or waving their hands in admiration for the performance.

Cheng Junhua continued leisurely, “Of course, they weren’t like me. They’d rather let the Statue of Liberty blow up like in a Hollywood blockbuster than eat something they’re allergic to and let their stomachs blow up.”

The other contestants watched the electrifying scene and rose to their feet, exclaiming in awe, “So solid! Absolutely solid!”

“I bet his votes will land him in the top three!”

“No doubt he’ll make top three. Now we just wait for the Rookie Queen…”

The veteran’s performance tonight was strong, completely shaking off the slump from the last episode. There was a palpable sense that he was poised to make a run for first place.

On stage, even after seeing all four lights ignite, Cheng Junhua remained unhurried. He gazed out at the audience and spoke thoughtfully, “It’s a fascinating difference, isn’t it? Why are we so afraid to expose our weaknesses?”

“I think it’s because we know all too well that once we’re labeled in a certain way, we risk being eliminated. We feel we must overcome our flaws and become flawless.”

“Take, for example, those leaderless group discussions in job interviews. They rarely care what introverts have to say—they’re filtered out from the start. Everyone has to pretend to be outgoing. Even when describing weaknesses on a résumé, we carefully sugarcoat them. Something like, ‘I work too hard and tend to be overly meticulous.’ It still carries that familiar undertone: toughen up, overcome your difficulties.”

“But sometimes, revealing a weakness isn’t a weakness at all. Only by letting go of rigid labels can we truly come alive.”

“That’s why I wanted to shed the label of ‘the veteran’—and why I came here.”

“Thank you, everyone. I’m Cheng Junhua.”

With calm composure, Cheng Junhua bowed deeply to the audience, concluding his first-round performance amid thunderous applause.