Although Lu Yi has a very poor reputation online, it hasn’t stopped him from making investments and gradually expanding into the stand-up comedy industry. Even before Chengjing Video’s comedy variety show was launched, friction in offline theaters had already begun.
At a small meeting at Shanle, Bei He, who is responsible for theater performances, specifically addressed this situation.
Bei He said helplessly, “Recently, stand-up comedy has been drawing large crowds. Not only is Wenxiao Theater often fully booked, but many open mics and small theaters are also doing well. However, some new performances in Haicheng are simply riding the trend, and there have even been cases of joke theft. More than one or two actors have reported this to me.”
The popularity of stand-up comedy shows has also benefited small clubs. This is how industry prosperity works: as a leader, Shanle gets the lion’s share, while small and medium-sized clubs get their slice of the pie. Everyone makes money, allowing the industry to thrive.
However, as the spring rain of capital falls, some malicious practices have also emerged, disrupting the market and the industry.
Shang Xiaomei was taken aback. “But isn’t plagiarism universally despised in the industry? Most clubs don’t tolerate that kind of behavior.”
Jokes are a performer’s livelihood. Stealing someone else’s material to perform is no different from outright theft, and it’s something that will stain one’s reputation forever. Anyone who does this would find it difficult to get stage time at clubs or theaters and would not be accepted by others in the industry.
“While it’s true that plagiarism is universally despised in the industry, it’s more of an unspoken rule – a tacit understanding among us,” Shang Liang raised an eyebrow and analyzed, “But now that someone has backing, what does the plagiarist have to fear?”
Everyone fell into silence, well aware that with external capital support, plagiarists now had the power to confront industry insiders head-on.
Xie Shenci said, “This kind of thing is happening in Yancheng too. I’ve heard that many performers are skipping open mics and just plagiarizing others’ material for commercial shows, trying to make a quick profit while the trend is hot. Some audiences can’t tell the difference and might end up being fooled.”
Chu Duxiu asked, “Is taking legal action feasible?”
“It would take some time,” Lu Fan hesitated, “and even if we win the case, and it actually goes through…”
Xie Shenci nodded, “The process would drag on too long, and by then, the damage would already be done. These individuals and clubs would have built their reputation by then, and they might even transition from plagiarism to original work, taking over the current ticket market.”
Shanle Culture has a legal team, and its signed performers have enough visibility to wield legal weapons if plagiarized, with support from fans and audiences calling out the wrongdoing.
However, lesser-known performers who haven’t been on major shows often have unstable incomes and limited fame. When faced with such situations, they can only swallow their frustration, lacking the resources to pursue justice – and it might very well crush their dreams.
“Right now, the only thing we can do is to add more shows as quickly as possible to prevent audiences from being diverted and spending money on those plagiarized performances,” Bei He said. “The theater has also recently enlisted volunteers to promote the shows, recommending some high-quality clubs to audiences and even compiling a blacklist to warn them about performances involving plagiarism.”
Shanle has always strived to uphold industry standards, but its ability to counteract external disruptions is currently limited.
The top priority is to combat crude plagiarism with high-quality content. Only by securing the majority of the offline market can they truly wield influence within the industry.
Meanwhile, Shanle released a promotional poster online titled There’s an Inside Joke We’d Like to Share, announcing the schedule for offline performances and tour locations. The poster prominently highlighted the phrase “inside jokes,” signaling to potential ticket buyers that the show’s content would be tailored specifically to fans of the program. It advised viewers unfamiliar with the show to carefully consider their purchase and spend rationally.
This marked Chu Duxiu’s first commercial performance since signing with Shanle. Her name and photo featured prominently in the cast list, instantly capturing the attention of netizens and drawing widespread interest from onlookers!
[Is this show the Victims’ Alliance??]
[Are the inside jokes about the finals? Can someone teach me how to buy tickets? I’ve never been to a Shanle show before.]
[No can do, draw your blades, everyone – no one is allowed to compete with me for tickets!]
[I’m dying of laughter. They actually turned their roast from the finals into a full commercial show. Seems like the performers were all deeply affected by it.]
[Chu is the only one who hasn’t spoken up, right? Her Weibo still hasn’t been updated…]
[It’s updated! The Rookie Queen just reposted the promotional poster for the show with the caption: “Gonna chat a bit where there are no lights” (dog head emoji).]
[What does “where there are no lights” mean? Is she moving the commercial show back to the finals stage? (dog head emoji)]
[I’m not really into stand-up comedy, but I lowkey just want to snag tickets for the drama!]
[Will the performance be uploaded online?]
[Recording isn’t allowed in offline theaters, so they don’t have to worry about getting sued for defamation – specifically guarding against a certain someone with a heart smaller than a needle (dog head emoji).]
Amid the heightened online buzz following Lu Yi’s public apology letter, Shanle announced additional performances, and tickets were instantly sold out. Many who failed to secure tickets took to Shanle’s official Weibo account, clamoring for more shows to meet the overwhelming demand.
Bombarded with inquiries, the theater staff quickly issued two or three follow-up announcements, urging audiences to remain patient. They assured everyone that more performances would be added once additional venues were confirmed and advised against paying inflated prices for scalped tickets.
As ticket sales surged and online discussions heated up, the highly anticipated premiere of the first show arrived amidst the fervor.
In Haicheng, the massive theater was packed to capacity, with every seat filled on both the first and second floors – far exceeding the scale of Wenxiao Theater. Commercial performances have always been held in larger venues than open mics, and filling such a large theater to capacity is a testament to the performers’ popularity.
The audience shuffled through the aisles, searching for their seats, filling the space with a lively buzz.
A gentle female voice echoed through the broadcast system: “Welcome, everyone, to Shanle’s special performance There’s an Inside Joke We’d Like to Share. The show will begin shortly. Please refrain from recording, filming, or taking photos during the performance, and kindly set your phones to silent mode. Thank you for your cooperation…”
Backstage, Wang Nali stole a glance at the audience and was instantly taken aback. She clutched her chest and exclaimed, “So many people! I can’t believe the entire venue is packed!”
Scallion stared blankly and murmured, “I’ve never performed in such a huge venue before.”
During the show’s finals, the live audience had only been around three hundred people. But today, the first floor of the theater alone far exceeded that number, leaving the performers utterly astonished.
Chu Duxiu joked half-seriously, “Looks like stand-up comedy has really made it big. Even infamy is still fame, I guess.”
Wang Nali peeked out stealthily, taking in the electric atmosphere inside the theater. She sighed with relief, “Good thing I’m not the one opening the show – the pressure would be way too intense.”
Before long, Bei He, as the host, took the stage to upbeat music, actively engaging the audience and sparking lively interactions.
This was a standard part of commercial performances – the host warming up the crowd and seamlessly connecting the performers’ acts. Generally, the more renowned the performer, the later they appeared in the lineup, often taking the coveted closing spot.
As a result, the audience wasn’t particularly hyped at first and needed the host to set the tone.
“I know what you’re all thinking – you’re saving your excitement for the later acts. But we’re going to defy expectations and start with a bang right away!”
Bei He announced loudly, “Let’s give a warm welcome to our first performer – Chu Duxiu!”
The moment the words left his mouth, the entire venue erupted, cheers bursting forth spontaneously.
No one had expected Chu Duxiu, who was supposed to be the headliner, to take the stage at the very beginning of the show.
In the darkness, latecomers who had been searching for their seats hurriedly quickened their pace, afraid of missing the first performance. They anxiously urged their companions, “Hurry, hurry!”
Against the deep red curtain, under the intense spotlight, the entire theater was shrouded in darkness. Only the standing microphone and the high stool on stage were illuminated, casting stark shadows.
Amidst the lively, cheerful music, a long-haired girl emerged from behind the curtain. She hurried forward with quick, light steps, moving toward the stage with her usual buoyancy yet an air of calm. Slowly, she picked up the microphone.
“Hello everyone, I’m Chu Duxiu.”
Holding the microphone, she bowed deeply to the audience, greeted by an immediate wave of thunderous applause.
Bathed in the intense spotlight, Chu Duxiu looked relaxed and composed. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on stage. Why did I choose to open the show? Because I think opening is great – you can finish your set and run, leaving yourself some escape time. I’m afraid of being chased down and beaten after the show ends.”
She raised her eyes, scanning the audience cautiously, and asked, “Before I start, I just want to ask – are there any fans of Lu Yi in the audience?”
As soon as the words left her mouth, the crowd erupted in murmurs, punctuated by occasional strange laughs.
Everyone in the audience was well aware of the dispute between Chu Duxiu and Lu Yi during the finals. In fact, most people were there precisely for the drama.
Someone deliberately jeered, “Boo-”
“What’s this? What’s this? Why are you making sounds of offended protest? I didn’t say anything insulting, did I?” she calmly reassured them. “It’s okay if there are – just protect yourselves. Coming here is like venturing into the tiger’s den.”
“As everyone knows, we in the stand-up comedy world have a long-standing feud with him. Don’t expose your fandom affiliation here.”
Laughter rippled through the audience.
Chu Duxiu said leisurely, “Today’s theme is There’s an Inside Joke We’d Like to Share. Stand-up comedy, which has always looked down on inside jokes, is now actively hosting a special performance dedicated to them. This just shows how much damage the finals have done to the industry – how far have we fallen?”
“I asked the company, ‘Didn’t we say stand-up comedy doesn’t do inside jokes?'”
“The company replied, ‘Stand-up comedy is on the verge of dying. Forget those old rules – the key is to save the industry. Who told us to cause a major medical accident during the finals?'”
“Lu Yi had a brain freeze and didn’t press the button. The contestants were so heartbroken they refused to accept the award. If stand-up comedy itself is already choking because of one competition, why should we fear puns or inside jokes!?””
“Where there’s lingering resentment, there’s bound to be an echo.” She pointed at the stage and declared emphatically, “So today, there’s no humor or jokes – today is about saving lives and healing wounds!”
The rhyming lines, the witty rhythm, and the impassioned delivery instantly made the entire audience burst into flower-like smiles.
Backstage, Scallion heard the roaring laughter from the audience and exclaimed in admiration, “The opening is really heating up!”
Wang Nali covered her face and said, “Oh my god, this bit… I feel like laughing and crying at the same time…”
Chu Duxiu shrugged helplessly. “Listen to this – it doesn’t even sound like a stand-up comedy show anymore. It’s more like some kind of stand-up comedy ICU consultation. Everyone here isn’t an audience member; you’re all experts and scholars specializing in cardiovascular and cerebrovascular diseases, here to help us treat complex medical conditions and save the stand-up comedy industry.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I hope you can come up with a medical treatment plan soon. I’ll even help Mr. Lu book a hospital bed while I’m at it.”
The venue erupted in laughter, with some audience members waving their hands excitedly.
Someone in the crowd teased, “Oh-”
Chu Duxiu confessed helplessly, “To be honest, after the finals, I spent a long time unable to come up with anything funnier. The show had already exhausted all my techniques – writing, performance, emotion, depth – it covered everything. How could I possibly improve further?”
The next second, she suddenly fell silent, then clicked her tongue and shook her head. “That was until I read an apology letter. Then I realized there’s still room for me to improve – I definitely haven’t reached the upper limit of humor yet.”
Hearing her mention the apology, audience members in the front rows couldn’t help but cover their mouths and laugh instinctively.
“That letter was like a martial arts manual from a wuxia novel – it instantly cleared my meridians and gave me enlightenment.”
Chu Duxiu pretended to flip through pages. “I opened the apology letter and saw the words ‘Lu-style humor’ scrawled sloppily across every page. It wasn’t until I looked closely for a long time that I noticed the text hidden between the lines—the entire letter was filled with the word: ‘joke.'”
“How could it be so hilarious? How could it be so humorous?” she grumbled indignantly. “I’m so jealous. I didn’t become a cross-disciplinary youth, but Mr. Lu has become a cross-disciplinary middle-aged man, successfully breaking into the stand-up comedy world.”
“One light overshadowed my performance; one letter outshone my writing. Just how masterful is that?”
Chu Duxiu pulled a letter out of her pocket, unfolded it dramatically in front of the audience, and made a show of preparing to read it aloud. “If I recite this Weibo apology letter right now, it might surpass my entire performance today!”
“Then we could add a line to the poster at the entrance: ‘We don’t produce jokes – we’re just transporters of absurd reality!'”
The sudden twist and her effortless delivery had the audience laughing uncontrollably, their faces flushed with amusement.
The apology letter was already a hot topic, and now, with her openly addressing it, the moment felt utterly satisfying and cathartic.
Someone in the audience shouted, “Read it-”
“Read a part and roast it!”
“Don’t worry, everyone, I won’t read it. We’re all on the same side here,” Chu Duxiu said as she tucked the letter back into her pocket, adopting a deadpan expression. “Besides, how could I possibly plagiarize Mr. Lu’s material for my performance?”
“That’s something only the actors from his company would do. We still have some principles – we have to protect Mr. Lu’s copyright.”
Her tone was hilariously exaggerated, starkly contrasting with her serious expression, which sent the audience into roaring laughter.
“Life is truly absurd. The days after the finals turned out completely different from what I had imagined. In my mind, even if I didn’t win the championship, I could at least return home in glory and receive some praise from my teachers and classmates before graduation, right?”
Chu Duxiu wore an expectant expression. “Brag a little, take some group photos – the highlight of my university life!”
“But that one light ruined everything. Forget anyone praising me – even my roommates didn’t dare bring it up, afraid it might upset me.”
“Of course, if I brought it up myself, they would praise me. But after praising me, they’d comfort me, saying, ‘Don’t be sad. Life is always full of surprises. It’s just like Go – players have been competing against each other for years, but who would have thought AlphaGo would kill the game?'”
“It’s okay. After going through this, many Go players improved their skills. Stand-up comedy will surely be the same, with a bright future ahead.”
Then, Chu Duxiu looked puzzled. “After hearing that, I was confused. But Go players improved by learning from AlphaGo.”
She hissed hesitantly, “If I want to improve, does that mean I have to learn how to pretend to be crazy and act foolish?”
The innocent tone paired with the sarcastic content created a striking contrast that electrified the venue. Subtly yet sharply targeting a certain someone, it sparked waves of roaring laughter!
Chu Duxiu continued, “The same thing happened during my thesis defense. I walked into the room with my paper, and before I could even start my presentation, I just said, ‘Good morning, teachers-‘”
“The professors across from me panicked and immediately waved their hands to stop me. ‘Hey – don’t call us teachers! We’re not the kind of ‘teachers’ you find in the entertainment industry! Thesis defenses are fair and impartial – we don’t do any bonus points here. Watch what you say – be mindful of the implications!'”
Wave after wave of laughter swept through the venue without pause.
The atmosphere was completely electrified, even drawing laughter from the performers backstage.
Bei He expressed deep admiration, exclaiming in awe, “She went back to school to gather material!”
Wang Nali added, “She’s turned it all into comedy material.”
Chu Duxiu went on, “I felt like the first half of the show was incredibly inspiring, with the slogan ‘Are kings and nobles born to their roles?’ But then the finals took a complete 180-degree turn, telling you that even kings have to wait their turn based on seniority. Ideals were utterly crushed by reality.”
She shrugged. “He said, ‘You’re still young. You have plenty of opportunities and a long road ahead. This time, let the veteran king who has persisted longer take the stage to receive the award.'”
“The old king was also stunned when he heard that. ‘How come you only increased my title but not my salary? And saying this so openly – how am I supposed to keep my reputation after this?'”
Chu Duxiu jumped up in agitation, grumbling angrily, “I was planning to remove the big shot’s label, not ruin the big shot’s reputation! Are you hard of hearing or something!?”
The callback to Cheng Junhua’s finals bit swept through the theater like a flood, unleashing waves of unrestrained laughter.
“While competing, I went up against veteran stand-up comedians, and it was really tough. I was worried about my future, thinking, ‘Will I still be fighting tooth and nail with newcomers years from now, battling over who’s funnier?'” Chu Duxiu said. “A hero’s twilight years, bleak and sorrowful – how awkward would that be?”
“But now, I don’t have that worry anymore.” She deadpanned. “I might have twilight years, but stand-up comedy might not.”
“Before that day comes, our industry could already collapse. It’s already been ruined by the finals – no need to worry prematurely.”
The audience erupted in laughter.
Bei He laughed helplessly. “Damn, that hits hard-”
Scallion added, “Finding joy in the midst of suffering – for real!”
“Lu Yi even said he wants to save our industry and make up for his mistakes. We appreciate the sentiment,” Chu Duxiu said with a frown. “But I really don’t understand. Everyone’s always saying, ‘The entertainment industry is doomed,’ but instead of saving his own industry, why does he keep targeting others?”
“Or, since amateurs are so eager to lecture professionals, why don’t we return the favor and swap roles?” she suggested. “I don’t know anything about film and television either, so I’ll just act as a representative and be in charge of pressing the button for Director Lu’s new project.”
Chu Duxiu raised one hand, hesitantly hovering it midair, mimicking the finals scenario. “Before pressing the button, I’d even say, ‘I’ve been struggling with this for a long time, but I just can’t bring myself to press it.'”
“His new project is terrible, and I genuinely hope that some other director who’s only been making movies for a few years can receive this special honor instead – and save the audience’s eyes.”
“Even though this sounds even more tactless, I’m sure no one would publicly cry foul or accuse it of being rigged. In fact, the reaction would probably be completely different.”
“People would just say…” Chu Duxiu crossed her arms, glanced sideways, casually whistled, and raised an eyebrow. “‘Wow, she knows her stuff – has some judgment. Did she study film?'”
Her vivid expressions, playful tone, and knowing smiles stirred a wave of joy in the venue. Audience members who had suffered through too many terrible shows clapped repeatedly in their seats, laughing until their stomachs hurt.
Unrestrained laughter erupted in the theater, soaring straight toward the ceiling as if threatening to make the roof buzz.
The atmosphere was completely electrified, brimming with joy everywhere, making it easier for the performers who followed to engage the crowd.
After the laughter subsided, Chu Duxiu’s face relaxed into a look of relief as she calmly shared her feelings.
“I’ve made a lot of jokes about the finals, but I just wanted to let everyone know: don’t feel sorry for me anymore. After going through those hardships, I’m doing just fine. There’s an inside joke I wanted to share.”
She said lightly, “The setbacks are behind us, and life goes on. There’s a lot of gossip online, and I’m no longer the show’s Rookie Queen, but no matter how loud the noise gets, some things haven’t changed.”
“And that is: there has never been any savior, nor do we rely on capital emperors. To create tomorrow’s stand-up comedy, we rely entirely on ourselves.”
“Thank you, everyone. I’m Chu Duxiu.”
Amid overwhelming cheers, Chu Duxiu bowed deeply and exited the stage to thunderous applause.
