Shang Liang was left speechless, unable to come up with a rebuttal.
Xie Shenci sat beside her, watching her out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing.
Shang Xiaomei and Lu Fan both burst into laughter, surprisingly echoing Chu Duxiu’s line of thought.
Lu Fan said, “Turning the tables.”
“Exactly. This way of thinking is great – I suggest we promote it company-wide,” Shang Xiaomei said with keen interest. “All the male employees should pay more attention to their appearance, spruce themselves up a bit, and attract top-notch performers to join us!”
“What top-notch performers?” Bei He’s voice came from the doorway as he finally arrived, pushing the door open and walking in with a file in his hand.
Lu Fan said, “Perfect timing – you’re the first one we should spruce up.”
Hearing their laughter, Bei He was utterly confused. “Did I miss something?”
Shang Liang frowned, her tone full of frustration. “You’re late. Because of that, our votes got suppressed.”
Since Bei He had arrived late, the meeting ended up with more women than men present, naturally giving the other side the advantage.
Xie Shenci added, “Minority obeys the majority. The company just voted and passed a new decision.”
Bei He blinked in confusion. “What decision?”
“The decision to objectify men.”
“…”
Once everyone had finally gathered, the joking came to an end, and they turned back to serious matters – discussing the program’s progress.
Xie Shenci said, “Shang Liang and I spoke with the platform this morning. They’re quite satisfied with the first few episodes, and the number of sponsors has also gone up. If the show can maintain its current quality, they’ll push for another big round of promotion at the finale, and there’s a good chance it could surpass the popularity of Season Two.”
Shang Liang looked up at Chu Duxiu. “The real challenge now may be in the content.”
To ensure the show’s quality, everything ultimately depended on the contestants’ scripts.
Chu Duxiu nodded. “Got it.”
“The schedule for the theater open-mic sessions is also finalized,” Bei He said as he handed out A4 sheets with the dates printed on them. “Director Shang, do you have a plan for your side? Which days are set for the upcoming recordings?”
“It’s already arranged. Let’s go over it together and see if it works.”
Shang Xiaomei read aloud the recording schedule. Before each round, contestants had to rehearse their drafts at the theater, then move to the studio for the official performance. The timeline was fairly tight.
When Chu Duxiu heard the dates, something seemed to come to mind. She suddenly hesitated.
Shang Xiaomei noticed something was off and asked, “Is there a problem? Is the writing schedule too rushed?”
As the head writer, Chu Duxiu naturally had to review everyone else’s scripts, which took her more time than the others.
“No,” Chu Duxiu quickly shook her head. “I think it should be fine.”
“Good, then we’ll set it for those days.”
Once the key matters were settled, everyone moved on to their respective tasks. Shang Liang and Bei He went next door to discuss the theater budget. Lu Fan and Shang Xiaomei had other business to attend to, so after a word with the others, they left the small meeting room.
After the meeting, Chu Duxiu felt a bit thirsty. She crouched in the corner, pulled a bottle of mineral water from the box, twisted the cap open, and took a few small sips. As she straightened up, bottle still in hand, she glanced back and noticed Xie Shenci – he hadn’t left.
Though everyone else was gone, Xie Shenci still stood silently by the door, watching her take the water. She couldn’t tell whether he had something to say or was simply waiting for her.
It reminded her of his birthday.
Just now, when Director Shang read through the recording dates, Chu Duxiu had caught a detail – one of the days coincided with Xie Shenci’s birthday. With the production schedule so busy, he probably wouldn’t be able to celebrate properly, only marking the day in passing at the studio.
Chu Duxiu froze for a moment, then shook the bottle of mineral water in her hand.
“Want some?” she asked.
Xie Shenci thought for a few seconds, then walked over and reached out to take the bottle. “Sure.”
Seeing that he was about to grab hers, Chu Duxiu glared at him. “Go get one from the box!”
There was a whole box of water sitting right there, and yet he insisted on taking hers -what kind of logic was that?
Xie Shenci paused. “…Oh.”
Each of them ended up with their own bottle of water. After waving goodbye to Shang Liang and Bei He in the next room, they headed downstairs together. Since there was no filming scheduled for the day, most of the performers were resting in their rooms, leaving the hotel corridors quiet and empty.
Taking the chance, Chu Duxiu casually probed, “Mr. Meow, what do you usually like?”
Since there was no way to plan a birthday celebration, at the very least she had to prepare a gift – and that meant choosing something based on his preferences.
Xie Shenci froze. His eyes flickered, and even his voice dropped as he asked hesitantly, “What kind of ‘like’ do you mean?”
“?”
Caught off guard by the counter-question, Chu Duxiu blinked in confusion. Meeting his quiet, lingering gaze made her face flush hot, and she quickly clarified, “Of course I mean hobbies – what do you enjoy doing?”
What else could she possibly be asking!?
“Oh…” Xie Shenci replied.
The tone was strange, drawn out, leaving her unsure what exactly he meant.
Chu Duxiu straightened her face, forcing herself to sound serious. She gave a couple of light coughs and said, “Just casual conversation. I’m collecting material, that’s all – I want to hear about the hobbies of people around me, or maybe something you’d like to do.”
Xie Shenci was usually far too enigmatic, rarely revealing anything private. His social media circle was filled only with company updates and scenic photos; he never shared his personal life, and seldom liked or commented on others’ posts – detached, solitary, and unconstrained.
Everything she knew about him came from personal interviews or family banquets hosted in Wencheng. When she and Chu Lan asked him questions, he would answer honestly, but never volunteered information – what you might call “passively sincere.”
From time to time, people like Shang Liang or Bei He would chat about him – stories from his time studying abroad, or about the early days of the company. From those accounts, Chu Duxiu had pieced together a rough picture of Xie Shenci’s habits. But those were still others’ perspectives, not the complete Xie Shenci.
In the end, she realized, asking him directly was the best way. Besides stand-up comedy, did he have any other hobbies?
“Something I’d like to do?” Xie Shenci thought for a moment, then ventured, “I’d like to gain without working – just let the company grow bigger and stronger, with endless material and revenue. Does that count?”
Chu Duxiu: “?”
“Or do I still have to sacrifice myself?” He blinked, raising an eyebrow. “After all, you’ve already mapped out the route for me.”
“…”
The company’s top female talent had made her intentions clear – Xie Shenci figured he should be sensible, but he’d rather not fight anymore.
“Mr. Xie, you…” Chu Duxiu was dumbfounded. “That’s just too-”
Too blunt!
Too out of line with mainstream social values!
After speaking, Xie Shenci fixed his gaze on her without a flicker of expression. His lips were pressed tight, and his Adam’s apple shifted slightly.
Chu Duxiu shook her head decisively. “No. I don’t think that’ll work.”
He looked at her in surprise. “Why not?”
“Your methods are too clumsy. It doesn’t look like you’re putting in enough effort…” she stressed. “Even taking shortcuts requires skill!”
Even a pampered cat living off others had to put in some effort – how could he be so blatant about it?
“…”
Having gotten nothing useful out of him, Chu Duxiu decided she’d have to ask someone else for advice.
Inside the room, after finishing revisions on the next round’s script, Chu Duxiu, Wang Nali, and Scallion also exchanged notes with the other rookie performers. Finally, after the busy work, they had a moment to breathe, sneaking their boxed meals back to the room to eat.
At the table, the three of them chatted and laughed. Scallion, multitasking, ate while talking and at the same time tilted her phone sideways to play a game.
“Wow, again?” Wang Nali exclaimed. “Why not just finish eating first before playing?”
“I can eat later,” Scallion replied. “But she only has time during lunch break. In the evening I have to do an open mic, and then there’s no time at all.”
Recently, the recording schedule for The Stand-Up King had been packed, leaving the performers with barely any free time. Even though Scallion and Toufu were both in Haicheng, their lives felt like a long-distance relationship – one in the city center, the other on the outskirts – and they couldn’t see each other during the workweek.
So Scallion seized every spare moment to connect, spending breaks chatting with Toufu.
Wang Nali clicked her tongue and shook her head. “This duo – truly terrifying.”
Chu Duxiu asked curiously, “You two have been together for a long time, right?”
Scallion nodded. “Mm. We were together for a few years just during school. I even visited her family during New Year.”
Wang Nali sighed with admiration. “That’s really impressive. Your relationship’s solid.”
“May I ask – what’s the most memorable gift you’ve given each other?” Chu Duxiu raised her hand as if in earnest inquiry, quickly adding, “I mean for research material, to broaden my social knowledge.”
Since Scallion was a guy, his suggestions might actually be useful.
Wang Nali perked up at the topic, suddenly full of curiosity and gossip. “Right! You two have been together so long – how did it all start?”
“It was just through school activities. We naturally got to know each other, and we shared a lot of hobbies, like going out to see shows together…” Scallion raised his brows smugly. “As for how we officially got together, that had to do with one of her gifts.”
Chu Duxiu pricked up her ears, eager to copy the answer. “What gift did she give you?” she pressed.
“She said she was giving me a title.”
“…”
“Ahhh-” Wang Nali groaned, rubbing at the goosebumps on her arms. Half exasperated, half amused, she said, “We shouldn’t have asked! Serves us right for letting him show off!”
Scallion shrugged with deliberate swagger. “Not my fault – if she hands me the perfect setup, of course I’m going to flaunt it.”
Chu Duxiu, still unwilling to give up, asked, “But were there any other gifts later on? Ones that really stuck with you?”
“Birthdays and such, sure. But if I had to pick the most memorable, nothing tops that first one…” Scallion said helplessly. “Honestly, it doesn’t matter what the gift is – it’s about who’s giving it.”
“Boys really are like that,” Wang Nali remarked. “You rarely get genuinely moved by gifts.”
“You girls are the same,” Scallion countered. “If it’s from someone you like, anything works. If it’s from someone you don’t, nothing will.”
Chu Duxiu said, “Not necessarily. If you each gave us five million, we’d gladly accept with a smile.”
Scallion: “???”
Season Three of The Stand-Up King moved forward steadily. Performers and staff shuttled back and forth between two places – sometimes at the suburban studio for filming, sometimes back in the city office handling various tasks.
The day before recording, Chu Duxiu and the others returned to Shanle Culture specifically to sort through supplies in preparation for bringing them back to the hotel. With time running tight, they worked late into the night. At last, they managed to load everything onto the trucks one after another and send it all in an orderly fashion to the suburbs.
Inside the company, Lu Fan glanced at his phone and saw that it was nearly midnight. He asked, “That’s everything?”
“Right. The next truck won’t be here for a while,” Bei He replied. “Do you all have anything you want to grab? If not, best to fetch it now while there’s still time. Later we might not get another chance. I’m planning to head back and change the water in my fish tank.”
Everyone lived near the company, but with the show’s recording schedule, none of them had found the time to go home lately.
Chu Duxiu said, “I want to stop by the apartment to pick up a few things.”
Lu Fan chimed in, “I’ll head home too.”
“I see – Lu Fan’s on the same way as me…” Bei He hesitated, worried that Chu Duxiu might be left alone. “Why don’t we bring you along? We can all swing by together.”
Chu Duxiu said, “…I’m an adult. I can go back on my own.”
The area around the company was quite bustling, brightly lit even at night, and the security was actually pretty good.
Just then, Xie Shenci came out of the office. Hearing the conversation, he suggested, “I’ll go with her. The apartment’s within walking distance – if she goes with you two, it’s actually out of the way.”
After moving out of the apartment, Bei He and Lu Fan had rented places in a different residential complex on the other side of the company. The homes there were larger, but in the opposite direction from the apartment.
Bei He said, “Alright then. Let’s meet at the entrance later. Once we’ve all grabbed our things, we’ll head straight to the truck – no need to come back upstairs.”
With that settled, everyone split into two groups, each heading off to collect their belongings.
Though it was late at night, Haicheng was still dazzlingly alive. The streetlamps lining both sides of the road glowed a dim yellow, like a river of stars flowing across the sky.
At the corner, the 24-hour convenience store remained open. There were hardly any customers inside, but the clerk was busy, slowly restocking a cartload of goods. The wheels rattled against the floor with a clattering sound.
At the entrance of Jinze Apartments, Xie Shenci escorted Chu Duxiu to the building. He stopped first, remaining in the lobby on the ground floor. “I’ll wait for you here. Go up and grab your things,” he said.
The first floor of the apartment was a shared space – you had to take the elevator to reach the units above, and a passcode was required to enter.
Chu Duxiu froze for a second before suddenly realizing – at this hour, bringing him up into her place would indeed seem a bit strange. She hurriedly ran into the elevator.
“Wait just a moment, I’ll be quick! I’ll come right down!”
“No rush, we have time.”
That was what he said, but Chu Duxiu didn’t want him waiting long. Fortunately, the elevators were empty at night. She darted into her apartment, quickly rummaged out the gift, double-checked it, and slipped it into a cloth bag.
Her clothes and other daily necessities had already been moved out earlier; only the birthday gift she’d recently chosen hadn’t yet made its way to the hotel near the studio.
After checking everything, Chu Duxiu locked the door and practically flew back downstairs.
“So fast.” When Xie Shenci saw her reappear, his gaze dropped to the cloth bag in her hand. “That’s all?” he asked suspiciously.
The soft bag was patterned, but the lobby lighting was dim, leaving only a vague dark outline.
Chu Duxiu nodded. “Yes, that’s everything. Let’s go.”
Xie Shenci held out a hand. “Want me to carry it for you?”
“No need.” She declined at once, then sneaked a glance at the time. “It’s not time yet.”
It wasn’t the moment to give it to him.
The two of them left Jinze Apartments and followed the narrow path outward. Chu Duxiu walked on the inside of the road, while Xie Shenci kept to the outside. As they passed the brightly lit convenience store, they noticed two tall stacks of cardboard boxes.
The boxes, piled on a wheeled cart, were filled with neatly packed drinks and snacks. A store clerk was unloading them one by one – restocking time, with the shelves slowly filling up again.
The cart rattled loudly. Before Chu Duxiu could react, she suddenly felt a strong gust of wind brush past her cheek.
The next second, there came a loud crash – cardboard thudding against the ground, followed by the clatter of bottles spilling everywhere.
Startled, Chu Duxiu turned back and saw that Xie Shenci had, at some point, moved to the inside of the road. It seemed he had blocked something just now, casually flicking his hand as if nothing had happened.
She glanced at the fallen boxes, then at the mess of bottles scattered across the ground, and realized she might have almost been hit.
“Are you alright?!” The clerk, hearing the commotion, poked his head out from behind the tall stack of boxes, panicked. “Did it hit you? Are you hurt?!”
Xie Shenci flexed his arm and said calmly, “I’m fine. It wasn’t very heavy.”
The box hadn’t been completely full – otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to block it. He’d only reacted on instinct, afraid it might hit her.
The clerk rushed out from the blind spot, flustered. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry! Where did it hit you? Are you really okay?”
“Really, it’s nothing.” Xie Shenci didn’t lose his temper. Instead, he simply stepped inward, switching places with her so that she was farther away from the boxes.
The clerk, deeply guilty and flustered, only felt worse in the face of Xie Shenci’s calm generosity, to the point he nearly wore out the words “I’m sorry.” He fetched cold water and some medicine from the store, and even gave them his contact information, stressing that they should get it checked, and to come back anytime if there was a problem.
Xie Shenci clearly wasn’t comfortable with the fuss either. He was forced to exchange polite words with the clerk for quite a while before Chu Duxiu stepped in to smooth things over, allowing them to finally leave the store.
Once the two had walked some distance, away from the convenience store, Chu Duxiu finally had the chance to ask, worried, “Are you really alright?”
She was afraid he was just putting on a brave face, unwilling to let others worry. After all, he was the kind of man who could remain expressionless even with a mountain collapsing in front of him – masking his emotions behind a poker face, impossible to tell truth from bluff.
“I’m fine,” Xie Shenci said after a pause. “It shouldn’t be fatal.”
“What kind of thing is that to say!” she exclaimed. “Show me – where did it hit you?”
She thought it must have struck his forearm. He had shaken his arm earlier, so it was likely bothering him at least a little.
“No.”
“Let me see.”
He avoided her gaze, even shifting his arm aside to hide it, mumbling, “It’s fine, no need to check…”
She grew exasperated. “Let me see! What could you possibly have that I can’t look at?”
“…”
Seizing the moment when Xie Shenci was at a loss for words, Chu Duxiu firmly reached out, yanked up his sleeve, and began examining carefully. “Is it here? Did it hit your arm?”
“Tsk, it’s too dark here – I can’t see clearly…”
Normally gentle-tempered, she now revealed rare irritation. She pulled out her phone, switched on the flashlight, and shone the bright beam across his skin, searching for any marks or bruises left by the accident.
She had no idea how heavy the box had been. She only hoped he was truly fine, though she still feared a hidden fracture. Her fingertips brushed lightly against his arm, guiding him to lift it with care. Her gaze followed, focused intently on his bare, smooth skin, tracing over it with earnest precision.
“It doesn’t look like it’s bruising yet. Where does it hurt?”
A tingling sensation spread along his arm. At first, only the spot of impact had felt warm, but now, with her touch, the heat seemed to rise, like willow branches stirring the still waters of a spring lake.
Her fingertips brushed over his skin as lightly as feathers, yet even such nothingness sent tiny currents running through him, a faint, elusive shiver.
Perhaps it was the way her gaze brimmed with concern and focus – so intent that it felt like soft silk wrapping tightly around him, leaving him no choice but to sink into it.
“I don’t know.”
Chu Duxiu looked up, dissatisfied. “How can you not even know where it hurts?”
Meeting her luminous eyes, Xie Shenci quickly turned his gaze aside, his voice low as he repeated, “…I don’t know.”
Aside from his racing heartbeat, he felt perfectly fine. Nowhere hurt at all.
