In the studio, the blast of cool air drove away the stifling summer heat, but it couldn’t suppress the audience’s surging excitement.
Even though Chu Duxiu had stepped down from the stage, the energy of the crowd showed no sign of fading. After such a vibrant, unrestrained performance, the lively atmosphere only grew more intense.
Applause, laughter, whistles, and cheers echoed around the arc-shaped stage, completely igniting the studio. The outstanding opening performance lifted everyone’s spirits, and even the audience grew restless, eager for the next contestants to appear.
Backstage, Shang Xiaomei gazed at the noisy scene and remarked with emotion, “No need for a clapper to lead them.”
During recordings, the studio usually had staff guiding the audience to clap or laugh. But now, the atmosphere was like boiling water releasing thick steam – there was no need for such prompting at all.
The brilliant opening act had directly set off the crowd’s emotions.
Xie Shenci nodded. “That means I don’t have to joke around with the investors’ money anymore.”
Shang Xiaomei: “?”
Moments later, the third season’s contestants began appearing on stage one after another. Among them were veterans who had taken part in the first two seasons, as well as fresh faces who had never been on the show before. They shared humorous anecdotes from all kinds of professions, sending the audience into fits of laughter.
The first recording went especially smoothly. The top twenty-five contestants from the preliminary rounds advanced, and because many strong newcomers had emerged this year, three additional contestants were placed in the revival round to fiercely compete for the last spots.
After the recording ended, the live audience left the studio. Once they were home and had rested a little, they began posting anonymous comments online.
The Stand-Up King and The Greatest Funmaker were now in direct competition. The rivalry between the two shows kept discussions at a peak, with countless people closely following every move.
[Feels like the third season of Stand-Up King really leveled up. The newcomers are strong too.]
[The opening was explosive! So satisfying!]
[That opening was way funnier than the other show’s…]
[Why are there so many good contestants this year? I was so torn when voting in the revival round!]
[Seriously, I thought the other show had already scooped up all the talent, but nope.]
[First, Shanle has its own training camp. Second, the newcomers this season had script guidance. I heard veterans even helped polish their material, so the quality improved a lot.]
[Just look at who the head writer is – you’ll get it.]
[“AI Stand-Up Dog is working hard to provide you with the most effective guidance to solve your problem.” (doge)]
[But isn’t it a bit improper that she’s both head writer and a contestant? If she gets influenced, like taking ideas from the newcomers’ sets for herself, that’d be hard to explain.]
[??? What are you even talking about? She needs to steal jokes from newbies!?]
[That cracked me up. Everyone uses her for punchlines, and now you’re accusing her of plagiarism? Don’t let your hate blind you.]
[Exactly. Everyone makes Chu Duxiu jokes, but if “Chu King” makes one about her, then suddenly it’s plagiarism? (doge)]
[If it were real plagiarism, the show wouldn’t let it slide. People shouting “plagiarism” now are just showing their true colors.]
[Can you stop spreading rumors! The head writer is really nice. I’m a trainee from the camp and talked to her face-to-face. I wasn’t good enough to pass the preliminaries, but when she gave feedback, she never forced anything – she guided you to think, carefully chose her words, and was super kind!]
[I was lucky to meet her once too. She was really easy to talk to and even took a photo with me. I haven’t followed the whole show, just saw the group-recommended clips, so seeing her in person was a big surprise – nothing like the “aggressive” image she has on stage.]
[I’m just a passerby, not a fan of anyone, but honestly, be grateful. Getting personal guidance from a veteran right when you’re entering the industry is a huge privilege. Anyone who’s worked knows how rare that is.]
[…Reading all this, I guess her character is actually decent?]
[Aside from the brainless online hate, her reputation in the circle is fine. Even Cheng only exchanged a few words with her, while the colleagues attacking her have piles of dirt on themselves if you look closer.]
[Right, even the digs from the rival show were weak and toothless! Just empty shade that came off sour, hahaha!]
Amid all the noisy chatter, the two shows pressed on with their intensive recordings until the long-awaited premiere finally arrived.
Chengjing and Lingguo Video deliberately set up a head-to-head showdown: The Greatest Funmaker aired Friday night, while The Stand-Up King aired Sunday night. The competitive tension was palpable.
To seize the upper hand in public opinion, The Greatest Funmaker spent days hyping itself up, beating drums and blowing trumpets to build momentum – even squeezing into resources that normally belonged to Shanle. When shows air at the same time, this is how it goes: trending topics turn into a money-burning game. Once a competitor grabs the spotlight, it’s very hard to knock them back down.
Netizens were annoyed by the heavy-handed marketing tactics of Lu Yi and his team, yet curiosity still got the better of them, and many clicked to watch the premiere.
Whether reviews were good or bad, the new show scored a strong debut, even matching the first-episode numbers of The Stand-Up King’s second season.
That gave The Greatest Funmaker’s official account plenty of swagger – they posted multiple flashy announcements flaunting their results, brimming with a gloating tone.
Some viewers were left quite displeased. They wanted to see Shanle make a comeback, but they also worried The Stand-Up King wouldn’t be able to surpass those numbers, so they could only sulk through the two-day wait.
Sunday night finally arrived.
In the hotel, Chu Duxiu and Wang Nali finished their work and leaned back on the sofa together. They had already set up the iPad in advance, waiting for the show to officially begin. This was the launch of Season Three – after so much hard work from everyone, the results were about to be revealed.
Chu Duxiu said, “I think this is the first time I’m actually watching the show during the recording period…”
Back in Season Two, she had rarely watched the full episodes. If not for Wang Nali, Scallion, and others bringing things up, she hardly paid attention to online reactions at all.
“Just watch it with me,” Wang Nali said, curling up beside her. Her tone was anxious. “I’m so nervous. Their hired trolls are too aggressive – I’m afraid we won’t be able to beat them.”
Online, hired commenters were loudly praising The Greatest Funmaker’s “high quality,” and with its experienced team of writers providing material, the first episode had indeed been quite good – posing a real threat.
The Stand-Up King, by contrast, relied mostly on the reputation from last season. They couldn’t pour money into massive marketing campaigns; the show’s popularity had to come purely from its content.
Wang Nali kept refreshing like mad, then suddenly exclaimed in delight, “It’s here, it’s here!”
On the Lingguo Video platform, the first episode of Season Three went live. The opening act was Chu Duxiu’s performance – directly answering the challenge from The Greatest Funmaker.
In an instant, the live comment section exploded with activity. Countless onlookers jumped into the discussion, and the momentum spread like wildfire, rapidly overtaking every major platform.
[I’m just here for the drama – tear into them harder, louder!]
[This isn’t even a fight, it’s a total crush. The difference in level is obvious – no contest at all.]
[This was way sharper than the digs from the other show.]
[Can’t be helped – their material comes from real experience. Her jokes are genuine, while the other side just makes stuff up.]
[Who says the other side makes everything up? Duxiu is just naturally brilliant. I even take their petty jabs as compliments. (doge)]
[Funniest part is, the trending hashtag they bought for themselves was “yyds”! The great prophet was right all along!]
[“Making money but losing face”: looks like the boomerang has come back.]
[What self-detonating werewolves – you clearly admit you’re just being fake and smug. (doge) @The Greatest Funmaker]
In the hotel room, Wang Nali kept refreshing the show’s stats, delighted. “Looks like the views are good – higher than last season’s…”
Chu Duxiu said, “You actually remember last season’s numbers?”
“Of course, I was following right on time back then too.” Wang Nali caught sight of her phone lighting up, put down the iPad, and checked her messages. “Huh, the group chat says the show’s trending.”
Hearing this, Chu Duxiu also pulled out her phone, quickly scrolling through the updates. She hesitated. “…Wait, is this trending tag actually ours?”
To keep The Stand-Up King’s third season from exploding in popularity, The Greatest Funmaker had been running a massive publicity campaign, trying to dominate the trending charts. They had even bought the tag “yyds” (“forever the god”) to brag about their show’s production quality.
But no one expected that in Chu Duxiu’s opening performance, one of her jokes would strike right at that very thing. The coincidence between the onstage punchline and the offstage marketing instantly elevated the humor to another level, leaving netizens doubled over with laughter.
When word spread, plenty of people specifically tuned in to The Stand-Up King to gawk at the drama. Afterward, they joined in fanning the flames on the trending list.
Overnight, “zqdlw, yyds” took on a brand-new meaning – shifting from “The Greatest Funmaker, forever the god” to “a pit of money-making and shame, smug and two-faced.”
Lu Yi and his team had originally wanted to use trending tags to suppress their rival, but instead they triggered a wave of reverse publicity – unexpectedly boosting Chu Duxiu’s joke into viral fame!
No one cared anymore who had bought the trending tag. Waves of mockery flooded the trending square, which in turn drove up the views for The Stand-Up King. Season Three, which originally couldn’t even squeeze onto the trending list, suddenly rode the momentum, broke through the encirclement, and snatched a tag almost by accident. It was fate playing tricks.
[The great “Chu Studies”! The goddess who gave both seasons trending tags!]
[This is funnier than the show itself – promoting the rival’s joke, classic shooting yourself in the foot…]
[My mind is blown. Director Lu is actually the true promoter of The Stand-Up King! Spending a fortune to support Queen Chu – nothing could be more real! (doge)]
[So it turns out his viral marketing for The Greatest Funmaker was just to give The Stand-Up King a free ride. Truly painstaking effort. (doge)]
[Chengjing: So it was you who brought in the AI Stand-Up King!?]
[It’s blown up! Lingguo just put out a big announcement – the views that night surpassed two days’ worth of data! Black Light Lu really lost big this time!]
[I can’t stop laughing. What a clown. Even outside the show, this comedy war is hilarious.]
Amid the chaotic public opinion, the very first episode of The Stand-Up King caught the favorable wind, and not long after going live, it overtook its rival in views – delivering a resounding slap to the competition!
The trending tags also fell completely into enemy hands. Even though The Greatest Funmaker had paid for them, all the discussion was about Lingguo’s show, which left Lu Yi and Chengjing fuming.
Lu Yi and his team, frantic and exasperated, failed to reclaim the trending list even with hired trolls. They then tried to pull down the “yyds” tag, but buying a trend is easy – removing one is hard. In the tug-of-war, they were no match for the gleeful netizens reveling in their misfortune.
Whenever the topic dipped a little, it wasn’t long before it shot back up again, handing The Stand-Up King free heat over and over.
Netizens cheered that justice had been served, crowding around to watch the spectacle and refusing to disperse.
This victorious first battle undoubtedly boosted the morale of the Season Three The Stand-Up King team. Contestants and staff alike were energized, celebrating the unexpected breakthrough.
In a hotel room, Shanle’s higher-ups held a small meeting to briefly discuss recent work.
Chu Duxiu, Lu Fan, and Shang Xiaomei were the first to arrive, sitting around a small table and chatting while waiting for the others.
Shang Xiaomei said, “The toughest part of the publicity battle is over. What comes next is a war of endurance – whoever’s content is better will win.”
The advantage of The Greatest Funmaker lay in its marketing. As long as Shanle made it through the first three episodes and grabbed attention amidst the chaos, things would get much easier later on. The first episode’s accidental seizure of their rival’s trending tag had been a complete victory, sending view counts soaring.
Lu Fan laughed. “Mainly because Duxiu hit the right topic.”
Chu Duxiu asked curiously, “But they really have that much money? With all this kind of promotion, can they even make it back?”
She had seen Lu Yi’s aggressive publicity and was both astonished and skeptical – where did they get the confidence to throw around so much money?
“No idea. I’ve never had a budget that high. Our company’s always been frugal with productions,” Shang Xiaomei said, digging at her ear and smirking. “Spend a little extra and you’ll hear Mr. Shang yelling – my ears have calluses from it.”
“That’s called cost control. I’ve never cut corners where it actually matters.”
Just then, Shang Liang appeared at the door with Xie Shenci behind him. The two had just come from a meeting with Lingguo executives, so they were dressed rather formally. Now they had hurried back to share updates from the platform.
“Mr. Xie, Mr. Shang.”
Shang Liang glanced around the room and frowned. “Still missing Bei He? Why is he always late?”
Chu Duxiu hesitated. “Mr. Shang, Bei He is busy handling contestant matters – and besides, it’s not even time for the meeting yet…”
She felt compelled to defend Bei He, since everyone else was always the one starting the meetings early.
Xie Shenci smoothly took a seat, pulling out his phone as he said calmly, “I’ll send him a WeChat.”
That day, Xie Shenci was dressed sharply in a suit. He sat right down beside Chu Duxiu, and before she could react, another voice exploded.
Shang Liang’s eyes widened. “Why are you sitting there?”
Everyone looked up in surprise at his outburst, puzzled by the sudden change in tone.
Xie Shenci asked, “What’s wrong?”
Shang Liang saw the other man feigning innocence and irritably waved him over. “Sit over here. They’re contestants – we should avoid suspicion.”
In the past, when he hadn’t known the truth, he’d felt no pressure about such things. But now, seeing this scene left him uneasy, worried that the third season of the show might be jeopardized.
Shang Xiaomei raised her brows in confusion. “That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”
Lu Fan asked doubtfully, “Mr. Shang, do you just not want to sit next to Bei He?”
There were only so many seats around the table. The only open spots were beside Chu Duxiu and Shang Xiaomei. With Xie Shenci filling those, Shang Liang and Bei He would have to sit together on the other side.
“That’s not necessary.” Shang Xiaomei tried to smooth things over. “Don’t keep picking on Bei He.”
“Who’s picking on him…” Shang Liang scratched his head in frustration, feeling like the only sober one among drunkards. With a frown, he muttered, “Men on the left, women on the right – wouldn’t it be better to sit separately?”
Shang Xiaomei leaned forward. “Let me see your queue.” [1]
Shang Liang asked, “What braid?”
She glanced behind him and teased, “That Qing Dynasty queue – you really should’ve cut it off by now.”
“…”
Forcing himself to stay calm, Shang Liang said, “We should be cautious during recording – don’t let any messy rumors break out. Too many people are watching our contestants right now.”
After listening for a long while, Chu Duxiu suddenly understood. “Ah, I get it. Mr. Shang means well – he’s worried about us being slandered.”
Though Shang Liang’s words were vague, she caught the deeper meaning: he was afraid outsiders might start speculating and question the fairness of Season Three’s competition.
“Exactly.” Shang Liang nodded. “At least someone here is sensible. Once the season’s over, whatever news comes out doesn’t matter. But until then, we have to avoid it.”
Shang Xiaomei argued back. “Aren’t you overthinking this a bit? Who would doubt her abilities now…”
Last season, Chu Duxiu had been robbed of the championship. This season, she was the head writer, mentoring every contestant in crafting their sets, and she had already generated a hot trending topic with the very first broadcast, single-handedly lifting the whole production team.
Even those who weren’t fans of hers knew perfectly well that her participation was meant to make the show more exciting. It was a deliberate strategy to go head-to-head with The Greatest Funmaker. Winning or losing inside the show was secondary – the key was beating the rival program.
Shang Liang insisted, “Still, we need to be careful.”
“It’ll be fine, don’t worry – nothing like that will happen,” Chu Duxiu reassured him. She glanced at Xie Shenci, then added with a lighthearted tone, “Besides, it’s not like they filmed his face.”
Everyone looked puzzled at that remark, and Xie Shenci turned his head to glance at her.
Chu Duxiu gave him a once-over. His features were striking, with broad shoulders and long legs, and in a suit he looked every bit the dignified, polished elite – the very image of a tall, handsome, wealthy professional.
She had to admit, he really was good-looking, someone who could make a living off his face alone.
Anyone unfamiliar with him would probably be fooled by that cool, aloof aura, never realizing he was, at heart, a comedian.
“As long as they catch Mr. Xie’s face on camera, all their doubts will vanish. They might even think I’m amazing,” she said drily. “Like – my stand-up is so good, the company’s shows can’t run without me, to the point where the boss sacrifices himself, going to such lengths just for me.”
Xie Shenci: “…”
Shang Liang: “???”
Translator’s Notes:
[1] Queue is something men were required to wear during the Qing dynasty (1644–1911). After the fall of the Qing, cutting off the queue symbolized abandoning outdated rules and backward thinking.
