Chapter 41

The tips of Ji Wei’s ears turned bright red.

But how could his idol say such things so nonchalantly? He had no idea how to respond; it felt like anything he said would be wrong.

Just then, the doorbell rang. He let out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding and walked over to the video intercom. Ying Guanxiao was waiting downstairs, so he pressed the button to let him in.

A short while later, the elevator doors opened.

Ying Guanxiao walked in, greeted Ji Wei by the door, and asked with concern, “Weiwei, why is your face so red?”

Is it that obvious…

Ji Wei touched his face; the temperature was alarmingly high. He stammered for a long time without managing to explain himself. It was Lu Shenxing who changed the subject for him, “Is the interview arranged?”

Ying Guanxiao pushed Lu Shenxing toward the elevator. “It’s all set. It’s with Editor Zhou from People Weekly. You can rest assured about his professionalism.”

Lu Shenxing had never liked exposing too much of his private life to the public, so most of his interviews were arranged with familiar media outlets to avoid being asked sensitive questions that would make him clam up.

“What interview?”

Ji Wei asked curiously.

If it weren’t for the broadcast of The Forbidden City’s Little Shop, the fandom would have been quite down lately. It had been almost a year since his idol’s last movie, Sun Eater hadn’t passed the censorship review, and there was no telling when his next project would be.

Seeing how serious Ying Guanxiao was, even inviting Editor Zhou from People Weekly, could it be related to a new movie?

Ji Wei couldn’t help but feel a surge of anticipation.

Lu Shenxing, sitting in his wheelchair, spoke unhurriedly, “Just to clear some things up.”

“To stop certain people from getting ideas.”

Ji Wei wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but the tone seemed to hold a hidden meaning. Before he could dwell on it, Ying Guanxiao pushed Lu Shenxing into the elevator, and the doors quickly closed.

Ji Wei was left alone in the apartment.

Suddenly, it felt a little empty.

Bilibili’s official account sent him a message, reminding him that the event was about to start. He walked over to the computer in the study and sat down.

He had been busy reviewing for his final exams, so the last few times he’d been in the study were to read. This was the first time he was using the computer in here.

He was shocked when he turned it on.

Although the best computers were custom-built, this machine’s specs were far too luxurious. It had four AMD Core i7-3970X processors; the tower alone was worth nearly thirty thousand yuan.

The tower wasn’t even the most expensive part—the monitor was the most insane component. The Leadtek Quadro 5000 graphics card cost over eighty thousand.

His idol didn’t usually surf the web or play games, so Ji Wei silently mused that he hadn’t expected him to have such high standards for a computer.

But it certainly made things convenient for him.

A computer with these specs could run any game on the market at max settings without breaking a sweat.

He opened his Bilibili stream room. The event had started in the morning, and his turn was in five minutes. He had already received the activation code and was planning to stream The Age of Great Contention for half an hour.

He watched the time.

Five minutes later, he entered the event’s stream room.

The event stream screen was split in two. The right side was his own black screen, while the streamer on the left was… Gu Huaiyi, who was currently playing the Guqin.

The bullet comments exploded instantly.

[Why is it Ji Wei? According to the schedule, it should be Hua Zhizi.]

[I’m speechless. After buying trending topics to curse out Huaiyi all day yesterday, he shows up with his fans to stream today. Does he feel like he hasn’t cursed enough?]

[Let me just say, I’m not a Gu Huaiyi fan, but I really think Ji Wei is being a bit too petty. Huaiyi was innocent in yesterday’s incident, but he didn’t even defend himself. I’d advise Ji Wei to be forgiving when he can.]

[Huaiyi said before the stream that he just wanted to play his instrument in peace. Why does trouble always find him?]

Seeing that the bullet comments were about to erupt into a full-blown argument, Ji Wei sent a private message to the Bilibili staff to ask what was going on.

[“The Age of Great Contention” Planner]: You don’t know? A content creator had something come up last minute and couldn’t stream. I asked Gu Huaiyi first if he was willing to connect with you, and he said you two were fine with it, so I assumed you had agreed too.

[“The Age of Great Contention” Planner]: I’m so sorry, but this event is really important. Could I please ask for your understanding?

[Ji Wei]: Fine, but remember to notify me in advance next time.

He put away his phone and looked at the computer.

The argument had already started.

[Gu Huaiyi’s fans still dare to play the victim? You’re making me laugh. How many people were cursing Ji Wei yesterday, but it’s not okay to curse Gu Huaiyi? I mean, can you be any more of a double standard?]

[It’s not like Ji Wei is squeaky clean either. He seems very skilled at buying trending topics. Who knows how many he’s secretly bought before? No wonder everyone calls him Bilibili’s Number One Brother.]

Ji Wei didn’t really care how others insulted him. He opened the game client, ready to stream, but then he suddenly saw a bullet comment.

[It’s not like Ji Wei is squeaky clean either, queer-baiting with Lu Shenxing. And everyone doesn’t need to praise Lu Shenxing as some old artist. Is his acting really that good? I, for one, can’t appreciate his stage-play-like performance.]

He silently tightened his grip on the mouse.

[+1, a lot of Ji Wei’s fans are also his fans. I don’t know where they get their sense of superiority from. Sorry, I’m just a common person. I can’t appreciate the acting skills of your main subject that you all praise to the heavens, nor can I get into his lengthy calligraphy and painting performances. I just want to listen to Huaiyi play the Guqin.]

Ji Wei’s game interface suddenly froze.

Gu Huaiyi glanced at the bullet comments, not sure which remark had gotten to Ji Wei, but he immediately said apologetically, “My fans aren’t very good with words. I apologize to you on their behalf.”

Although he had only met Ji Wei once, his impression was of a polite and shy kid who probably wouldn’t refuse to give him face.

Unexpectedly, he heard the young man’s emotionless voice, the end of his sentence rising with a rare, unbridled tone.

“The Guqin? I can play it too.”

[For real? If I remember correctly, he’s only nineteen, right?]

[You remember correctly. If it’s true, that’s terrifying. His learning ability is completely beyond what I can accept.]

[No way, right? National Style had an episode introducing the Guqin, and I don’t remember seeing him play.]

Ji Wei’s usual Guqin was at home, so he had to take out the one the instrument shop owner had given him last time. He opened the case, adjusted the camera and microphone, his movements as smooth as flowing water.

His Guqin skills were quite average.

But he was probably a little better than Gu Huaiyi.

[Holy crap! He really took out a Guqin! It’s the same one from Nice last time.]

[He turned on his camera! Ah, I’m dead. How does Weiwei look so good in everything he wears? But his study… it’s huge! Is this the world of the rich?]

[I think Ji Wei lives in Yancheng, right? If his study is this big, how big is his house? I’d estimate a place like that costs at least three million.]

The sound of the Guqin was very soft, and his instrument had silk strings, which made the sound even quieter. Fortunately, the room was quiet, and the microphone could pick it up clearly.

He began to play.

His left hand pressed the strings to set the pitch, while his right hand produced the sound.

But the notes he played were out of tune, even gratingly hoarse.

[This is what you call playing the Guqin? Do you have some kind of misunderstanding about playing the Guqin?]

[The Guqin is very difficult. Changing strings with the left hand is much harder than on other instruments, and there are no finger picks. Huaiyi’s Guqin playing isn’t that great either.]

[This is hilarious. I thought he was some kind of master.]

[Weiwei, are you sure you can do this? There’s no need to force yourself, really. We all know you’re amazing.]

Each Guqin has subtle differences in pitch. After listening to the notes, Ji Wei officially began to play.

The first piece was No Clothes.

It was from Lu Shenxing’s first drama, Chasing the Deer. His acting skills back then weren’t as good as they were now. He had spent a whole day and night in the rain just to film the first highlight scene of his acting career.

[This doesn’t sound like a Guqin score, does it?]

[I kneel before the master’s vibrato. That’s some serious showing off.]

[Why does this song sound so familiar?]

He ended No Clothes with a slightly trembling final note. After a ripple of harmonics, he began to play Westward Journey.

This piece was from Song of the Frontier. To play his role well, Lu Shenxing had lived with a local farming family for three months, learning to speak with a northwestern accent. The media praised his acting as completely natural.

However, because he refused to take on idol dramas, he offended Director Wang, and the role didn’t win him any television awards.

[This sounds like Westward Journey. The pitch is amazing. There’s absolutely no deviation throughout the entire piece.]

[His finger-plucking is also incredible. The tone is clear and not muddy, and he can still play with force. As a Guqin major, I think Gu Huaiyi is no match for Ji Wei.]

[Gu Huaiyi plays well enough, but compared to Ji Wei, he’s quite a bit behind.]

[Ahhhhh, Westward Journey! Everyone must go watch Film Emperor Lu’s Song of the Frontier. His acting in it is simply divine. I don’t know why some people still say his performance is too theatrical. He mastered nuanced acting a long time ago; he’s just more versatile now.]

***

Ji Wei just played quietly.

The last piece was Wind of Qin.

It was from Lu Shenxing’s representative work from three years ago, also titled Wind of Qin. In this drama, he delivered a textbook-level performance and even injured his spine after being hit by a steel bar. This role won him seven major Best Actor awards.

At the time, he had been blacklisted and had only seven hundred yuan to his name.

[Holy crap, Wind of Qin! I just watched this movie yesterday. The ending almost made me depressed, but Film Emperor Lu’s performance in it truly deserved those seven awards.]

[+1, I really don’t know why some people think Film Emperor Lu’s acting is exaggerated. Good acting isn’t just about shedding tears silently. The explosive power in the final scene of Wind of Qin was just… forgive me, I can’t help but praise him.]

The bullet comments were all discussing Lu Shenxing’s works and praising his acting. Anyone who had just joined would have thought they’d stumbled into Lu Shenxing’s Super Topic, until someone posted a comment.

[Just remembered that Weiwei is a fan of Film Emperor Lu. Someone was just criticizing Film Emperor Lu’s acting, so Weiwei is silently defending him, isn’t he?]

In an instant, the stream room erupted.

[Other people’s fans can draw, do calligraphy, understand physics, and even play the Guqin. I look at myself and am filled with shame.]

[Sob sob sob sob sob sob, what kind of divine love is this? Why did the streamer have to get married so young?]

[This Lu-Wei shipper has been pondering this very question.]

***

Times Tower, reception room.

Editor Zhou had been the chief editor of People Weekly for many years and had met numerous celebrities. Yet, facing Lu Shenxing, he couldn’t help but feel a certain pressure.

When he received the last-minute interview request from Ying Guanxiao, he was overjoyed, but he was also unsure what he should ask Lu Shenxing about.

Finally, after discussing with a few deputy chief editors, they decided on the theme for this issue’s interview: Lu Shenxing’s views on acting. It was a topic that couldn’t go wrong.

After they had been talking for over two hours, he saw Lu Shenxing frown slightly.

Editor Zhou was adept at reading people and immediately stood up. “Thank you, Film Emperor Lu, for taking the time out of your busy schedule for this interview.”

Lu Shenxing raised an eyebrow. “Actually, you can ask some lifestyle-related questions.”

“Alright.”

Editor Zhou sat back down and asked cautiously, “May I ask if your usual life experiences have provided any inspiration for your acting?”

The man lowered his gaze and said faintly, “You can be a bit bolder with your questions.”

Bolder…

Editor Zhou felt that the current question was already quite bold, but since Lu Shenxing had said so, he couldn’t just ignore it.

He had no choice but to pluck up his courage and ask, “Because of your participation in the variety show, you and Ji Wei have gained a lot of CP fans online. Some fans even blocked you at the airport to give you fan works. May I ask what you think about your CP fans with Ji Wei?”

He regretted it the moment the words left his mouth. Lu Shenxing disliked marketing and hype the most, and here he was, asking about it so openly.

Just as he was about to retract the question, he heard the man let out a soft chuckle. “My ship is real.”

What does “my ship is real” mean?

Editor Zhou was stunned for a good while before he understood. His breathing immediately quickened, and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself, but the joy on his face was impossible to hide.

This was huge news!

Not only would the sales of People Weekly multiply several times over, but it would also significantly boost the magazine’s popularity among young people. He suspected he was dreaming.

He pinched himself to confirm he wasn’t dreaming, but then another worry arose.

Film Emperor Lu had always been reticent about his private life. Even if he knew this news, what could he do with it? He could probably only write a few sentences, not enough to fill a whole page.

But for the sake of this issue’s sales, Editor Zhou mustered his courage and asked, “How did you and Ji Wei meet?”

The man narrowed his eyes slightly, as if he had been waiting for this question for a long time. He began calmly, “We met on a blind date. You might have been to the restaurant, it’s called Silver Harbor…”

At first, Editor Zhou was worried he wouldn’t have enough material for a full page. But as he continued to take notes, he started to despair. Why was Film Emperor Lu so different today? Why was he so talkative, even describing what he and Ji Wei ate and wore on their first date!

Seeing the clock on the wall point to six in the evening, Editor Zhou couldn’t help but ask, “Film Emperor Lu, I already know how you and Ji Wei met. How about we call it a day?”

Who would have thought that Lu Shenxing would glance at him coolly and say in a measured tone, “That won’t do. I haven’t told you about filming the show yet.”

Editor Zhou was on the verge of tears. …Everyone already knows about that.