In a daze, Chu Duxiu forgot whether she had responded to Xie Shenci or not, and then she muddleheadedly walked over to the director.
She took the cue card filled with advertising copy, quickly skimmed through the text, and only then snapped back to reality, turning her head to steal a glance at someone.
In the corridor, Xie Shenci accompanied the executives of Lingguo Video as they left, leaving behind only a back as sturdy and elegant as bamboo, standing out distinctly amidst the flowing crowd. They didn’t stay here for too long, as they had to move on to the next stop.
Gone was the earlier elementary school student image, replaced once again by the big boss of Shanle Culture—truly a master of transformation.
Chu Duxiu’s eyelashes fluttered. She lowered her gaze and focused on reciting, quickly memorizing the advertising copy, thus brushing away that flicker of excitement.
After the shoot, the three of them dealt with a pile of miscellaneous tasks and finally made their way back to the studio.
Inside the venue, six performers were taking the stage in order, with bursts of laughter erupting from the audience from time to time.
After each performer finished, the Laughter Representatives would offer a few comments, giving the other performers some time to prepare and rest, and also allowing Chu Duxiu, Bei He, and Cheng Junhua, who were seated on the second level, to chat briefly.
“Perfect timing—we didn’t miss too much. There are still half the performers left,” Bei He said. “I heard that in a couple of days, at the Lingguo event, it’ll just be me, Lu Fan, and a few others. Neither of you are joining?”
Bei He had been talking with the Lingguo team earlier about an upcoming offline event.
Chu Duxiu lowered her head apologetically. “Yes, I have to fly back to Yancheng that day. My university thesis defense is about to start.”
Cheng Junhua joked, “Makes sense—you need a diploma to even apply for the civil service exam.”
Bei He asked, “And you, big shot? Got another event? That movie project?”
“Nah, I didn’t take that one. It’s a family member’s birthday, so I’m rushing back to Nancheng,” Cheng Junhua sighed lightly. “I’ve been away for so long lately, without much rest. I’ll probably take it easy for a bit before jumping back into work.”
The recording of “The Stand-Up King” was utterly exhausting, and everyone wanted to unwind a little once it was over.
“Won’t dare to come back next year,” Bei He teased. “Just like our season, it’s been brutal on so many talents.”
Cheng Junhua smiled wryly. “Next year, I’ll have to come up with all-new material. The younger generation is improving way too fast—I honestly can’t keep up.”
Chu Duxiu chimed in, “The big shot says next year he’s coming for the Rookie King title.”
Bei He laughed. “Sure, why not? Everyone gets to be king—rotating chairman is the hot new corporate culture at Shanle.”
On stage, the second round of the competition was fierce, with many performers earning four lights and having to rely entirely on audience votes to advance.
Before long, all six performers had finished their sets, and the rankings were announced.
As a seasoned veteran, Lu Fan managed to stand out among the exhausted competitors, securing the last spot in the top four.
“Congratulations to Lu Fan for advancing to the finals and claiming a spot in the top four!”
Cheers erupted from the audience below.
Upon hearing the news, Lu Fan was momentarily stunned, then a smile touched the corners of her eyes. She remained as composed and graceful as ever, neither overly humble nor arrogant. Amid the applause, she rose slowly and made her way across the stage toward the staircase leading to the second level, where she would join the other finalists.
Bei He, who had been standing on the second level, was already on his feet, visibly excited as he watched Lu Fan ascend. “Ms. Lu is still Ms. Lu! Her performance remains as steady as ever!”
“At the same time, the fifth to ninth place winners of the second season of The Stand-Up King have been decided. Let’s welcome the remaining performers back to the stage to receive their honorary medals, presented by our Laughter Representatives.”
Chu Duxiu also applauded warmly. She glanced down at Wang Nali and Scallion on the first level and watched as the Laughter Representatives rose one after another, ready to present the finalists with their medals.
Aside from the top four who had advanced, the other performers would receive their rankings for the second season based on their votes from the competition rounds.
Among them, three contestants Chu Duxiu knew well ended up placed next to each other: Scallion in sixth place, Nie Feng in seventh, and Wang Nali in eighth.
Together, they stepped onto the finals stage, accepted their medals from representatives like Qi Yunhan and Lu Yi, and delivered their acceptance speeches.
Scallion held his medal in one hand and the microphone in the other, declaring, “May all lovers in the world end up together, just like the perfect pairing of scallions and tofu!”
Wang Nali’s eyes widened instantly, and she stared at him in disbelief, as if she hadn’t expected such a remark.
Upon hearing this, Chu Duxiu’s face scrunched up in secondhand embarrassment. “Oh my god, cracking jokes in everyday life is one thing, but even on the awards podium? A bit too much.”
Cheng Junhua deadpanned, “Even AI couldn’t handle this.”
“This kid—” Bei He was both annoyed and amused. “Can I just rush down and smack him? I don’t even care about the top four anymore; I just want to challenge him right now.”
In stark contrast to Scallion’s overly affectionate display, Nie Feng’s speech was far more normal. “If there are any audience members from Yancheng here, you’re all welcome to visit Typoon Transit. We’ve got drinks, music, and comedy—hoping more friends can support live shows, our open mics, and stand-up comedy clubs.”
Applause broke out across the venue.
Wang Nali kept her speech brief. Raising her honorary medal with one hand, she proclaimed loudly, “No need for long speeches—next season, I’ll keep bringing the fierceness!”
The atmosphere in the venue was electric, with live comments flooding the screen and excitement radiating everywhere.
After the five performers received their awards, only the battle for the top four remained.
“After a short break, we’ll welcome the final round of the themed competition—the last showdown of the night.”
In the studio, the large screen began playing advertisements. The four finalists were confined to the second level, separated from those on the first floor like the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl across the Milky Way. [1]
Wang Nali, Scallion, and the others sat in the audience seats, unanimously raising their honorary medals and waving them toward the second floor. The medals glittered brilliantly under the lights as they proudly showed them off. With no more pressures weighing them down, those downstairs were now carefree, simply awaiting the finals—and they couldn’t have been happier.
Chu Duxiu lamented, “Wow, they already got their medals, and we’re left empty-handed.”
Lu Fan remarked, “It’s just us now.”
Bei He added, “No worries. I heard we’re getting trophies—way bigger ones. We’ll just scoop up all their medals later.”
Just then, a staff member hurried over with a paper box and said, “Everyone, please draw lots to determine the order for the finals.”
Cheng Junhua, being closest to the box, reached in and pulled out a slip. He unfolded it to reveal the number “3.”
“Big shot’s got some luck! Let’s see what I get,” Bei He said as he grabbed a slip and opened it to find the number “1.”
Lu Fan commented, “You’re kicking things off again.”
Bei He replied, “I know it’s not exactly gracious, but part of me really hopes this ends up being the final ranking too.”
Chu Duxiu also drew a slip. She slowly unfolded the thin paper and stared at the number for a solid two seconds, momentarily stunned.
Moments later, the program logo reappeared on the screen, and the hosts returned to the stage.
Luo Qin announced, “Welcome back to the finals of the second season of The Stand-Up King! The theme for the third round is Where Laughter Begins. Our four finalists will take the stage one by one to compete for this season’s ultimate ranking.”
Su Xinyi continued, “The order of performances has been determined by draw. Let’s take a look at the big screen—”
- BeiHe
- Lu Fan
- Cheng Junhua
- Chu Duxiu
Down in the contestant area on the first level, Wang Nali and the others had fully transitioned into audience members, waiting for the top four to perform while discussing the progress of the finals.
Wang Nali paused, surprised. “She’s going last.”
Nie Feng remarked, “The first two going back-to-back is pretty interesting too.”
Scallion added, “The first half is like a clash of past grudges—revenge from the first season. The second half is a showdown of the present—the battle of the second season.”
“Now, let’s welcome our first performer—Bei He!”
Warm applause erupted from the audience as Bei He swiftly made his way to the stage.
Up on the second level, the seats were relatively farther back. Chu Duxiu, Lu Fan, and Cheng Junhua joined in the applause, but unlike the relaxed and relieved atmosphere among the contestants below, the top four wore slightly tense expressions. They occasionally stretched their backs and shoulders, quietly awaiting their turns to compete.
Especially since Bei He wouldn’t return to his seat after performing—instead, he waited on the first level for the results—making the second level feel even more isolated and quiet.
After Lu Fan took the stage, only Chu Duxiu and Cheng Junhua remained on the second level. Neither spoke, both lost in their own thoughts as they prepared for their performances.
Chu Duxiu, scheduled to go last, still had the mental space to enjoy the shows. Seeing both Bei He and Lu Fan receive full lights, she occasionally clapped softly, cheering on her seniors.
Cheng Junhua, up earlier in the order, eventually stopped sitting altogether. He turned to face the wall, pacing in a small circle while muttering to himself, running through his final performance.
Before long, only Chu Duxiu remained in the seats on the second level.
“Let’s welcome our next performer—Cheng Junhua!”
Cheng Junhua took a soft breath, then made his way downstairs at a measured pace. He waved and said, “See you soon, Rookie Queen. It’s all on you later.”
Chu Duxiu replied, “Alright, go get ’em, big shot.”
As the finals drew closer to the end, the energy in the venue grew more and more electric. Every time a contestant took the stage, the audience greeted them with enthusiastic cheers.
The moment Cheng Junhua appeared, the audience below broke into applause—even the Laughter Representatives joined in.
He began softly, “Hello everyone, I’m Cheng Junhua. The theme for the finals is Where Laughter Begins, but for someone who’s pessimistic and socially anxious, truly laughing freely is really hard—and leaving home to embark on a journey is even harder.”
Light laughter rippled through the audience.
Cheng Junhua spoke in a soft, unhurried tone, delivering his material with practiced ease—a clear sign of his extensive experience on stage. It didn’t take long for him to earn his first light.
Bei He hissed softly, hesitating before saying, “The jokes are solid, but it feels a bit…”
Lu Fan chimed in, “Not closely enough tied to the theme. These bits are probably from his solo show.”
The assigned theme for the round was Where Laughter Begins, but Cheng Junhua’s performance barely touched on it. He’d only mentioned it briefly at the beginning, and the rest of his set felt loosely connected at best, coming across as somewhat forced.
He had never been particularly strong at themed performances, as his highly distinct personal style often shone brighter when he had free rein—aside from his decent showing in the semi-themed round, he was consistently at his best when improvising.
Even so, despite the weak thematic link, Cheng Junhua’s set was still strong enough to earn four lights, and he exited the stage to waves of applause.
Nie Feng remarked, “It all depends on how the live audience feels—whether they care about the finals theme when voting.”
The contestants murmured quietly among themselves, while live comments flooded the screen with heated discussions.
[Funnier than the first two!]
[So skilled! Such a polished performance!]
[But does this have anything to do with the theme? I only remembered after I finished laughing.]
[The timing was too tight. Bei He stuck to the theme, but his material felt rushed—the creative pressure was just too intense.]
[This performance solidly places him in second place with a shot at first. If the ones after him are both humorous and on theme, the championship might slip right out of his hands.]
Up in the contestant seating area on the second level, Chu Duxiu had long since risen to her feet. She watched as Cheng Junhua exited the stage, then stationed herself near the staircase, waiting for her turn. She took two or three deep breaths, steadying her increasingly restless heartbeat, striving to bring her body to its optimal state while repeatedly flexing her fingers.
Over in the production control area, Xie Shenci had appeared at some point behind Shang Xiaomei.
Shang Xiaomei jumped in surprise. “I thought you couldn’t make it? Weren’t you supposed to be with the Lingguo team?”
Xie Shenci replied, “They’re in the audience seats. I just came by to take a look.”
As he spoke, his gaze shifted to the screen, watching as she descended from the second level.
The girl’s long hair was tied into a ponytail, which took on a deep chestnut hue under the lights. Though fine and soft, it now seemed like a dynamic whip, swinging and swirling through the air with her agile movements, looking both spirited and precise.
Once stumbling and unsteady, she had now grown her wings—strong and full—finally soaring into the vast skies above.
On stage, the host’s introduction rang out: “Now, please welcome our final performer—Chu Duxiu!”
The next second, the entire venue erupted into a roaring tsunami of cheers, welcoming the final performance of the night.
Translator’s Notes:
[1] The “Cowherd and Weaver Girl” is a famous Chinese folktale about two lovers who are separated by the Milky Way and allowed to meet only once a year on a bridge of magpies.
