Chapter 2
—Are you willing to marry me?
The question exploded in Ji Wei’s mind like a clap of thunder. At that moment, only one thought consumed him.
His idol…
had proposed…
to him!
His entire system crashed. He swallowed hard and quickly looked around. “Are we filming a show or something?”
He couldn’t see any cameras.
Perhaps it was a hidden camera shoot?
He immediately adjusted his posture, sitting up perfectly straight.
“I seem to have scared you.”
Lu Shenxing just smiled and gently explained, “My mother isn’t in good health. She hopes I can get married within the year.”
Ji Wei understood instantly.
As expected of his idol, he had a way of phrasing “being pressured into marriage” so tactfully. Ji Wei’s entire demeanor relaxed considerably.
He was just about to offer some words of comfort…
But then the man slowly lifted his eyelids, looked into Ji Wei’s eyes, and said unhurriedly, “I think you’re quite suitable in every way.”
What did marrying his idol mean?
Ji Wei thought about it seriously.
It meant getting as many autographs as he wanted, being able to visit film sets openly, and waking up to his idol’s face every day.
Did he even need to hesitate?
There was no need to hesitate at all.
This completely obliterated Ji Wei’s initial thought of playing it cool.
The words of refusal on the tip of his tongue instantly turned into, “I do.”
Lu Shenxing lowered his eyes, his emotions unreadable, but the corners of his lips curved into a slight smile. “Then, I’m deeply honored.”
***
By the time Ji Wei finished his meal and returned to school, it was already three in the afternoon. He was still reeling from the shock of his idol’s proposal, but the shock didn’t last long before his counselor called him to the office.
The counselor was about his age, looking no older than twenty-five or twenty-six. She handed Ji Wei a form.
“Here’s the situation. Yancheng Television Station is collaborating with the Palace Museum to create a reality show promoting national style. The director was very impressed after seeing your photo and hopes you’ll participate. I wanted to ask for your opinion.”
They decided they wanted him just from a photo?
Ji Wei thought, “…Are they really that casual?”
Never mind the upcoming midterms; if he had time for some third-rate variety show, he’d rather be streaming more.
He was about to refuse when the counselor’s next words changed his mind. “The pay is eighty thousand per episode.”
Ji Wei quickly signed his name. Half an hour later, he walked out of the office, his copy of the contract in hand.
He didn’t usually follow the entertainment industry, so he was unaware that the fans of several influencer celebrities had been fighting over this reality show on Weibo for the better part of a month.
[Cream Cake] National Style is pretty much a top-tier reality show, right? I heard they’re extremely strict about the appearance of the non-celebrity participants. Anyone who’s had plastic surgery has no chance. You could say it’s a one-in-a-million selection.
[Moon Grass] Who the hell are you subtweeting? Just because my boy doesn’t get a chance, you think yours will? My boy has worked with the director before, and he praised him for being hardworking and smart. Who says he has no chance?
[Fallen Star] Just a neutral netizen here, but I wonder if Film Emperor Lu will participate. If he does, this show’s lineup will be insane.
[Overlord Flower] How could Film Emperor Lu possibly join? He never participates in activities unrelated to acting.
After returning to his dorm with the contract, Ji Wei eagerly logged onto Weibo. Having seen his idol today, he had to shower him with excessive praise. How else could he be a qualified Lu Praiser?
He used a Weibo side account.
After all, as a streamer whose main fanbase consisted of straight men, he had an “idol image” to maintain. A side account was different; he could do whatever made him happy.
He composed a long-form post.
—Saw my idol for the first time, and he’s so! much! more handsome in person than on TV! And his voice is amazing too. Aaaah, I love him so much. Looking forward to our next meeting @Lu Shenxing
After posting, his impassioned mood calmed down, and he took out his textbook to start studying.
Two long hours passed.
Ji Wei closed his book, stretched, and opened his phone to find that his Weibo private messages… had exploded.
That was no exaggeration.
Looking at the dense wall of likes and comments, he thought, Is this really necessary? All he did was post about meeting him, without even a photo. For a moment, he felt flattered and was about to respond to everyone’s enthusiasm.
But…
When he saw his own Weibo username, he thought he was seeing things.
—Ji Wei Who Plays Games.
He rubbed his eyes.
It was still those six words.
He…
had posted…
on the wrong account!
He had posted a stream of excessive praise on his main account, and all the comments below were filled with concern.
[Queen Bee] It’s over. Ji Wei has lost his mind.
[Dragon Catcher] You don’t have to be so vicious. Weiwei just can’t accept the reality for a moment. Your whole family has lost their minds (smile).
[Undead Miner] Stop arguing and comfort Weiwei, will you? Weiwei, don’t be sad. Looks really don’t matter. Even knowing you’re not good-looking, I’ve still been silently following you.
[White Dragon] The way you said that… it’s worse than saying nothing at all.
At first, he tried to seriously explain to everyone that he had used the wrong account, but no one believed him. Faced with an increasing number of concerned replies, he had no choice but to humbly post a message.
[Ji Wei Who Plays Games] Thank you all for your concern. I’m fine. I’ll be streaming as usual tonight.
Although the fans were skeptical, their words were at least not as harsh as before. He breathed a short-lived sigh of relief.
Suddenly, he shot up from his chair.
A thought occurred to him…
Lu Shenxing wouldn’t see this Weibo post, would he?
Probably… not.
He rarely even logged into Weibo, and the number of posts he’d made was pitifully small. Not to mention, so many fans tagged him every day; he definitely wouldn’t be able to see them all.
At this thought, Ji Wei sat back down.
It was almost time for his stream.
He turned on his camera and started streaming.
Most popular games in the gaming section were online games, but he was used to streaming less popular standalone games. As a result, his viewer count wasn’t high, usually hovering around eight thousand.
[Aaaah, Weiwei is finally streaming!]
[You scared me, I almost thought you were going to flake. What are you streaming today? Can we watch Stardew Valley?]
[The streamer is working too hard.]
Reading the bullet comments, Ji Wei opened Stardew Valley on his desktop. “Alright then. The creator just released a new version yesterday, so today I’ll stream Stardew Valley. I’ll start by creating a new character…” He explained patiently as he controlled his character.
At the beginning, the bullet comments were all normal.
[Weiwei’s voice is so nice. Sob, sob, I want to date you!]
[Followed. There are so few streamers who stick to doing standalone game playthroughs these days. Why isn’t such a great streamer more popular?]
[Is Stardew Valley on Steam? I want to buy it! It looks amazing.]
While answering his fans’ questions, he glanced up and saw his viewer count.
20,500…
26,000…
30,569…
It was climbing at an astonishing rate!
In just a few minutes, it had already reached forty thousand, landing him on the homepage. The bullet comments were scrolling by frantically, a stark contrast to the lukewarm atmosphere from before. It had become… a massive, surreal scene.
[Streamer, you’re about to blow up!]
[Aaaaaah, when will I ever have luck like the streamer? Please bless me to pass my midterms smoothly.]
[Go to Weibo! There’s a mysterious surprise waiting for you. Don’t get so excited you faint!]
Ji Wei pondered.
He hadn’t retweeted any lottery posts recently, nor had he bought any lottery tickets on the street. Could it be that his house on the outskirts of Yancheng was being demolished?
The possibility was small.
But not impossible.
While controlling his character to fish, he quickly opened his phone. Of course, he didn’t dare to look directly. Instead, he took a deep breath and slowly tapped into Weibo…
His hand trembled, nearly dropping the phone. He was so excited he was about to faint.
It wasn’t a surprise.
It was a shock.
Because Lu Shenxing, who hadn’t updated his Weibo in forever, had posted!
It went straight to the trending topics.
[Lu Shenxing] Got it. @Ji Wei Who Plays Games: Saw my idol for the first time, and he’s so! much! more handsome in person than on TV! And his voice is amazing too. Aaaah, I love him so much. Looking forward to our next meeting.
Having his idol retweet his own excessive praise…
It was truly… too embarrassing.
Especially since they had just met.
Ji Wei could already imagine Lu Shenxing, eyes lowered, a hint of a smile in his voice, lazily saying to him, “Got it.”
Ji Wei’s face slowly turned red.
The blush spread from his cheeks to his neck.
And then all the way down to his chest.
Meanwhile, the comments under Lu Shenxing’s Weibo post were all variations of “sob sob sob I’m so jealous of him.”
[Sashimi] The man who hasn’t posted in a million years actually posted! Sob sob sob sob sob sob sob sob I’m so envious of that blogger!
[Wild Wasabi] I know that blogger! He’s a small streamer from Bilibili’s gaming section. He just had his heart broken today and then got noticed by Brother Lu. His luck is insane.
[Oak Seed] Wow, his luck is way too good! I want to have my heart broken too!
[Strange Little Cake] Aaaaaah, I’m dying of jealousy. I’m just a jealous person who can type right now! Rubbing off some of the blogger’s good luck, hope I can pass my CET-4 exam!]
Even though he felt like dying of embarrassment.
He still had to stream.
He could only close Weibo, splash his burning face with cold mineral water, and brainwash himself into thinking it was no big deal. Then he continued his stream. “Stardew Valley has two ways to play: one is the sacrifice route, and the other is becoming a Joja member…”
By the time the stream ended, it was already midnight.
The next day, as Ji Wei walked through the corridors of the academic building, he opened his phone and was stunned to find he already had a hundred thousand fans on Bilibili. Although it wasn’t enough to be considered a major content creator, he was now somewhat famous.
Was this… effortless fame?
Suddenly, his phone rang.
He swiped the screen.
—It was an unknown number.
He hesitated for a moment before answering the call. “Hello, may I ask who this is—”
“It’s me.”
Lu Shenxing’s lazy voice came through the phone, warm and mellow. “Class is over?”
“Mr. Lu!”
Ji Wei stopped in his tracks.
Even though no one could hear him.
He still walked towards an empty corner.
The thought of yesterday’s embarrassing incident made his heart race, and his face began to flush unconsciously. “I… class is over. Is there something you need?”
“Nothing major. I just happened to be passing by your university,” Lu Shenxing said after a pause, as if adjusting his tone. “I heard you had your heart broken?”
“No.”
Ji Wei quickly denied it. “I’ve never had a boyfriend.”
“Or a girlfriend,” he added after a thought.
A short silence followed.
Lu Shenxing seemed to be amused by him, his tone carrying a faint hint of laughter. “That’s good.”
Ji Wei’s heart beat faster and faster.
He was on the phone with his idol!
And his idol was smiling at him.
“Mr. Lu, if there’s nothing else, I’ll hang up now,” Ji Wei said with difficulty.
If this continued.
He felt like he would run out of oxygen.
“There is something.”
Ji Wei’s hand, about to hang up, froze.
He heard Lu Shenxing’s voice, faint and clear in his ear. “Mr. Lu is right at your university’s gate—”
“I’d like to see you.”