Chapter 47: Affection

The end of April arrived with a long, whistling meteor trailing behind, and the sudden rise in temperature left people still wearing their spring clothes feeling somewhat uncomfortable.

At the Music Department of Wutong University, in the recording practice room, the deadline for submitting songs for the The Celestial Fairy endorsement audition was at the end of the month. After taking a day off, Xiao Chi hurried back to do the final recording and filming.

Shao Jingfeng, holding the sheet music, sat on the large bamboo sofa with a pot of cool tea beside him. Liu Bing paced anxiously nearby.

Shao Jingfeng hadn’t expected much from Xiao Chi. After all, emotions were a mysterious thing that couldn’t be achieved in just a day. While there were flaws, handling a theme song for an endorsement was more than enough.

As Liu Bing had said, they weren’t competing for a Golden Melody Award.

But Shao Jingfeng had always been strict with his students. Having a promising talent like Xiao Chi made him unable to stop raising his expectations, almost demanding perfection. Considering Xiao Chi’s age, this was obviously unfair.

Shao Jingfeng poured himself a cup of cool tea, intending to pass Xiao Chi no matter how he performed today.

To his surprise, halfway through the pot of tea, Xiao Chi’s performance truly brought a surprise.

Even Liu Bing, who wasn’t a professional, could hear the subtle sweetness and passion in his voice. After the song ended, Xiao Chi leaned against the window, lost in thought, with an unspoken longing swirling in his mind.

It wasn’t until Xiao Chi came out of the recording booth that he snapped back to reality.

“Rare. You did well today.” Shao Jingfeng patted Xiao Chi’s shoulder and poured him a cup of tea with his own hands. “You’ve made progress, and that’s worth encouraging.”

Xiao Chi, slightly taken aback, accepted the cup. “Does that mean I passed?”

Shao Jingfeng, for once, made a joke. “Rarely would I delay your audition opportunity.”

Liu Bing opened her tablet and quickly skimmed through the latest news about the global endorsers for The Celestial Fairy. At the forefront of the search results were virtual idol Tang Wanwan and the popular rising star Lu Sheng. News about Xiao Chi seemed to have been pushed to some forgotten corner.

Shao Jingfeng casually flipped through the audition works of the two and said faintly, “Based on my understanding of Tianyu, they probably won’t choose a virtual idol as their spokesperson.”

Liu Bing asked, “What makes you think that?”

Upon hearing these words, Xiao Chi immediately perked up his ears.

“You can tell from their ten-billion-dollar promotional investment. Tianyu has big ambitions. They want to use this holographic game to create a parallel universe, to be the first to eat the crab. They want to give players the feeling of immersion, as if this world truly exists, allowing them to do things in it that are impossible in the real world. Therefore, the advertisements specifically emphasize the word ‘real.'”

Liu Bing picked up on his point: “So, you mean, if a virtual idol endorses it, it would create a sense of distance? It would increase the barrier between dimensions?”

Shao Jingfeng paused before continuing, “The game producer of The Celestial Fairy is JK, whom you should know. He appeared on the Star CEO variety show with you. He is very focused on emotional experiences. While the popularity of the spokesperson is important, it’s even more crucial that the work itself contains something that can move him. With that in mind, the chances of being shortlisted are much higher.”

Liu Bing pondered, “No wonder you’re so strict about the emotional rendering of this song.”

“Heh, of course. This is just based on my ten years of experience working at Tianyu and my guesses. As for Lu Sheng, Rong Shan is behind him. Based on my understanding of Rong Shan, he is a person who cares deeply about winning and losing. Especially now that I’ve helped Xiao Chen, I’m certain he will spare no effort in suppressing him.”

Liu Bing frowned slightly, scrolling through the screen. “Lu Sheng’s audition song is called ‘Misty Wonderland.‘ As expected of Master Rong Shan, not only is the quality excellent, but he also manages to rally so many professional music critics, tirelessly promoting it and building momentum.”

He sighed and smiled wryly. “In the music industry, my network of connections is still lacking. Recently, several music platforms and media outlets I’ve contacted have subtly hinted to me that even if Xiao Chen’s new song gets published, it won’t make it to the high-traffic, prominent sections.”

“Don’t worry,” Shao Jingfeng pondered. “I’ll recommend this song through the Musicians’ Association channels and then send a recommendation email to Tianyu. I have some old connections with a few executives in Tianyu’s music department, so I should be able to give you a bit of a boost. I can’t do much more for Xiao Chen, and the rest is up to you.”

—

Green Screen Photography Studio

The top-tier special effects team Liu Bing hired had taken care of most of the MV scenes, but since Xiao Chi was the lead, there were still more than two minutes of footage that he had to perform personally.

The storyline for “If Immortals Had Feelings,” which Shao Jingfeng had created for him, was based on the main plot of The Celestial Fairy. It told the story of an immortal who, having forgotten all emotions, was banished to the mortal realm, where he underwent trials of love and, in the end, transcended the mortal world and ascended to immortality.

After Liu Bing saw the concept and MV costume designs, he had his doubts. With Xiao Chi’s innocent and sweet image, could he truly portray the aloof, otherworldly aura of an immortal who does not partake in worldly affairs?

But the moment Xiao Chi revealed his finalized look, Liu Bing immediately fell silent.

Wearing white robes with delicate gauze, holding a green bamboo umbrella, beneath which hung a string of jade pendants that looked like droplets of water, Xiao Chi’s entire appearance was simple and unadorned, with only the hems of his robes embroidered with dark, flowing cloud-like patterns. As he walked, it looked as though he was stepping on ripples of water.

Xiao Chi’s figure, holding the umbrella, slowly emerged into view, his flowing scarf and long black hair fluttering in the wind. He looked like a figure from a classical painting, silencing the entire studio.

When Xiao Chi wasn’t speaking or smiling, his expression was serene, as if he were a jade statue sculpted by the hands of a divine being—handsome beyond belief, almost unreal.

Liu Bing opened his mouth several times, struggling to find his voice. It wasn’t until someone shouted, “Start the camera,” that he cleared his throat a few times. Although he was unwilling to admit it, he couldn’t help but think—how could anyone resist Xiao Chi like this?

Due to time constraints, everyone in the studio was busy and rushing around.

Xiao Chi was suspended on wires, soaring through the air and performing various acrobatic stunts. Some of the more difficult moves had been planned for a stunt double, but unexpectedly, Xiao Chi handled them with ease, completing every one of them. His wide sleeves and white robe billowed in the wind as if he were walking on the peaks of clouds.

Outside the studio, Ji Chenxuan, who had come to check on the set, was wearing a simple black outfit and had already been standing quietly for a while.

Zhou Tong, following behind him, asked quietly, “President Ji, aren’t you going in?”

Ji Chenxuan smiled, watching Xiao Chi. “Let’s wait a little longer.”

He didn’t want to disturb him and was waiting for Xiao Chi to come out, planning to give him a surprise.

When the final scene wrapped up, Xiao Chi landed gracefully, quickly jogging over to Liu Bing. “How did I do?”

Liu Bing lazily raised his eyelids, scanning Xiao Chi from head to toe, clicking his tongue. “Better than I imagined, just a little bit.”

Xiao Chi shot him a sideways glance, not believing it. “Just a little bit?”

As they spoke, they walked toward the studio door.

“If you didn’t speak, it might have been even better,” Liu Bing winked at him with interest. “Did you study the secret techniques I gave you? Otherwise, how could President Shao have praised you today?”

“Oh, that.” Xiao Chi curved his eyes into a smile, his lips naturally curving upward. “Thanks to your method, I followed what it said, and it really worked. It was worth the whole day of practice with Ji Chenxuan yesterday.”

As he spoke, he was facing away from the door, so Ji Chenxuan couldn’t see his expression.

The speaker was casual, but the listener was alert. Before Ji Chenxuan had time to fully appreciate Xiao Chi’s new look, the word “practice” came out of nowhere, causing his heart to drop straight down. The smile on Ji Chenxuan’s face stiffened, gradually fading from the corners of his lips.

The past few days had passed so blissfully that he had almost forgotten that Xiao Chi was just pretending to be his lover.

Holding hands, dating, and even kissing—were they all just part of the “practice”?

But if that were the case, why would Xiao Chi go to Lover’s Bay in the middle of the night to fix the two bent arrows, just to make him happy?

Xiao Chi was still “pretending,” but Ji Chenxuan had already fallen for him, and it had become real.

Ji Chenxuan’s mind was a mess, until Xiao Chi noticed him and excitedly ran toward him.

“Ji Chenxuan, what are you doing here?”

The other staff members in the studio began glancing over frequently, and Ji Chenxuan coughed lightly, suppressing any misplaced emotions, and said calmly, “I was passing by and thought I’d check in. How’s the preparation going?”

Xiao Chi instinctively looked at him for a moment, then quickly shifted his attention. “It’s almost ready to launch.”

Ji Chenxuan absentmindedly nodded, “Change your clothes, then let’s head back.”

Xiao Chi followed him, feeling that something was off about the atmosphere. He extended his little finger from under his wide sleeve and, with the sleeve’s cover, gently hooked Ji Chenxuan’s finger.

The man trembled slightly, letting out a silent sigh, and tightly gripped his hand.

—

After countless days and nights of careful effort, Xiao Chi’s audition MV, If Immortals Had Feelings, was finally officially released.

For the first time, Xiao Chi appeared before the audience in an astonishing ancient costume, presenting a completely different style from the one at the talent competition. His cold, ethereal immortal image was so striking that it made people wonder if it was even the same person.

The long-dormant official Weibo live stream was once again overwhelmed by an explosion of comments, crashing the servers:

“Oh my god, I thought Chenchen was already handsome enough, but wow, in this outfit, he’s even more handsome!”

“Where did this immortal come from? Is it too late for me to go cultivate immortality?”

“It sounds terrible… I’ve only looped it 180 times!”

“This song makes me want to fall in love, woof woof woof!”

At a smoky internet café booth, a couple was playing games in a couple’s booth.

As the girlfriend’s character was about to die, with only a sliver of health left, the boyfriend frantically tried to draw the enemies’ attention, complaining loudly, “Hey, stop looking at your phone, you’re about to die! Pay attention!”

The girlfriend casually responded, still fixated on her phone screen, grinning at the repeated MV playing on loop.

The young man rolled his eyes and snatched the phone away. “What are you looking at? What’s so interesting?”

The MV was nearing its end, with moonlight shimmering, a crystal-clear lake rippling, and a white-clad immortal holding an umbrella, walking on water, rising with the wind.

The chorus reached its emotional peak, and at the most poignant moment, a subtle tremor in the voice carried a surge of love, the melody so beautiful it was heartbreaking. The immortal figure unfolded like a delicate painting in the night breeze.

The person suddenly turned, and beneath the bamboo umbrella, a face appeared that was unforgettable. He reached out toward the camera, his thin lips forming a faint smile, like a ripple spreading through the chaotic world.

“Come with me.”

The comments on the side went wild, flooding the screen: “Come with me!” “Take me with you!” “It’s so beautiful, I’m crying!”

The young man stared blankly, his hand loosening the grip on the mouse. “Oh my god… I… I’ve fallen in love again…”

“…Wake up! That’s a guy!”