【Rebroadcast ratings hit #1 — Battle of the Stars emerges as the season’s breakout hit】
【Debut in the top 6 — Could Gu Yi become the next Chu Chi?】
【The second coming of idol survival shows? What defines a good one? 】

“Why is Battle of the Stars everywhere? Do these media outlets have nothing better to write about?”

Inside the green room for Take It Slow, Life, not even the assistant dared breathe too loudly. He crouched down, gingerly picking up a gift box that had just been tossed aside by Zhu Yu — it was from a sponsor. If the brand caught wind of it, they might revoke Zhu Yu’s ambassador title altogether.

This week, Battle of the Stars’ popularity had skyrocketed. Even here at Greenlime TV, people were whispering about it in the hallways.

Just last week, Zhu Yu had still been gloating that Take It Slow’s rerun ratings had beaten Battle of the Stars. But now? The reruns of Battle had shot up to first place on the charts — five times more than Take It Slow.

Zhu Yu had bent over backward for the TV execs, played nice with all the guests, and finally clawed his way into a regular spot on Take It Slow. And yet, just like that, Battle of the Stars blew up.

It just wasn’t fair.

Gu Yi? How did he deserve this?

Zhu Yu was practically grinding his teeth in frustration.

Even with his agent Shao Jing firmly in his corner, Zhu Yu couldn’t find it in him to feel happy. Nearly every day, he searched Gu Yi’s name on Weibo — watching his retweets, comments, likes, trending posts, and follower count skyrocket, outpacing his own by miles.

Just as he was about to blow up again, there was a knock at the door.

“Xiao Yu, it’s time to shoot.”

Zhu Yu immediately switched to polite mode. “Coming. Are Sister Qian, Brother Zhang, and Miss Jin here already?”

Then, turning to his assistant, his face went cold again. “Clean this mess up. Don’t mess up my shoot.”

Watching Zhu Yu’s lightning-fast change of face, the assistant felt a deep, tired sense of resignation.

Zhu Yu was a few years younger than him, but when it came to playing nice, no one in Take It Slow could compete. No matter how furious he got in private, the second the door opened, he was all sunshine and smiles, like nothing ever happened.

This season of Take It Slow was already on the decline. Last episode’s ratings had been dismal, and for the first time, it didn’t even crack Greenlime TV’s top 15. The show was originally supposed to run for seven or eight seasons, but now there were rumours the network wanted to cancel it and replace it with something new.

Zhu Yu’s standing in Vic group had been built on this show. If Take It Slow got cut, it would be almost impossible for him to find another variety show where he could be a permanent cast member.

…

Meanwhile, Gu Yi and Ji Chi were filming a commercial for Blueberry Mobile. This past week, every contestant had been busy — with new sponsors rolling in, they had extra ads to shoot. And of course, the fans eagerly awaited daily content from their faves. Every weekday at noon, contestants interacted with fans via livestream.

“OK, eyes on the camera.”

“Gu Yi, move a little closer to Ji Chi. Great. Smile — perfect.”

Blueberry Mobile was promoting their newest model on Battle of the Stars. As a young, trendy brand, their target audience overlapped perfectly with the show’s fanbase — young women hooked on idol survival content.

Ji Chi was currently ranked #1 in popularity, Gu Yi #6. But their pairing, dubbed “Memory,” had taken the CP fandom by storm, dominating all other ships in popularity and engagement.

So naturally, Blueberry’s ad specifically requested the two appear together.

The phone’s brand image was all about trendiness and cool aesthetics, and the commercial leaned hard into the contestants’ visuals. From the moment shooting started, Gu Yi felt like a prop being posed and pushed around. By the end, even his smile was starting to cramp.

“Perfect!”

The cameraman gave a small round of applause as the shoot wrapped.

He was a seasoned pro who had shot countless idol survival show commercials — including for Chu Chi, who’d gone viral from Idol X and become a top-tier star.

When it came to looks, Ji Chi and Gu Yi were in no way inferior to Chu Chi. In fact, Gu Yi’s visuals — even in an industry full of handsome faces — were truly exceptional.

To Ji Chi and Gu Yi, the shoot felt like an awkward mess of stiff poses and frozen smiles.

But through the camera lens, it was something else entirely.

The cameraman stared at the raw footage for a long time—

Even the smallest glance, a blink, a look between them — there was a kind of unspoken electricity.

On screen, Ji Chi exuded control — he had a presence that naturally overshadowed anyone standing next to him. But with Gu Yi by his side, the intensity balanced out, creating a surprisingly harmonious frame.

Gu Yi thought he hadn’t done well. But to the cameraman, his presence alone made him impossible to ignore. Wherever he stood, the lens found him.

That’s talent — the kind of innate charisma born to be under the spotlight.

…

After the ad shoot, Gu Yi was approached by the production staff.

He’d thought the Blueberry ad was his only shoot that day. But from the staff’s expression, he realized he’d just become the first contestant to land a solo commercial.

“What kind of ad is it?”

They handed him a phone. On screen, a cutesy-looking app loaded up. Gu Yi stared, a big question mark practically stamped on his forehead.

“Kitty Quiz?”

Had cats in this world evolved to this point?

He tapped on the app — turned out it was a trivia and exam prep tool.

In his previous life, Gu Yi had never seen this kind of software before. He immediately got curious.

It had functions to scan and search questions. Snap a photo or enter keywords, and answers popped up instantly. The database covered everything from high school entrance exams to postgraduate prep, civil service tests, and even language learning.

“Play around with the app for a bit. I’ll be back to walk you through the project.”

The staff member went off to grab the campaign brief. He’d planned to return quickly — but got pulled into a long chat with the commercial director about Battle of the Stars’ business roadmap.

When he finally returned, he half expected Gu Yi to be secretly Googling himself — standard contestant behaviour after getting phone access.

But Gu Yi—

He was hunched over a piece of paper, pen in hand (the one he’d just used to sign the contract), which was now completely filled with equations. He was solving the app’s homepage questions and entering the steps on his phone.

“…What are you doing?”

“You told me to get familiar with the app,” Gu Yi said. “So, I tried answering the homepage quiz. It’s actually pretty good.”

“…”

“Hang on — I’ve done five questions already. Just one more left.”

And with that, he earnestly continued solving, scribbling calculations and tapping on his phone.

The staffer accidentally glanced at the paper.

A wave of childhood trauma hit like a flashback.

He instinctively took a step back from Gu Yi.

Then he grabbed his phone and called the media team. “You guys got that shot just now, right? Send it to me before this afternoon. We can use it.”

“What for? Why the rush?”

“We’re upping the budget. The sponsor needs to see how devoted our contestants are. That level of sincerity and faith? Easily worth an extra 500,000 in ad spend.”

Kitty Quiz rep: “…”

Entertainment people. So greedy. For true honesty and simplicity, you had to look to education.

When Kitty Quiz received the clip, one of their staff cautiously asked:

“Did Gu Yi really solve the homepage quiz set?”

“Seems like it.”

“How many questions?”

“Six. That’s what he said.”

Silence.

The Battle of the Stars team got nervous. The 500K was just a joke — the real goal was to show commitment and hopefully build a long-term relationship.

After all, other shows’ celebs took seven-figure fees just for name-dropping the app. No one went this hard like their contestants did.

Still, if the sponsor was the sensitive type…

Had they said anything inappropriate?

Finally, the Kitty Quiz rep spoke:

“The questions on our homepage are all user-submitted and fairly advanced. Most people need at least two to three days to solve them.”

“…Can’t say I relate. I wasn’t that smart in school.”

Another pause, then:

“Actually, Gu Yi only has a high school diploma.”

“…Excuse me?”

The staffer, who had majored in liberal arts, graduated from a top 20 business school, and completed a postgrad degree at a C9 university, felt personally attacked.

The rep continued, slowly:

“If Gu Yi’s willing to go get a bachelor’s—preferably from a strong STEM university—we can say he used Kitty Quiz to pass. Great for branding.”

“…That’s borderline fraud.”

“I mean, yeah, but—there’s a lot of bonus money on the table.”

“…”

Truth be told, the Battle of the Stars commercial manager had the lowest bonus package of anyone working in Jiangshi TV’s variety division.

Ever since the show picked up steam, he’d been calculating potential bonuses with a fervour that made up for his weak math grades in school. He could now compute down to two decimal places.

At that moment, his cash-loving heart aligned perfectly with Kitty Quiz’s vision.

In short, after the pitch, the sponsor was pleased — and agreed to increase the ad budget.

From that point on, the Battle of the Stars production team became more convinced: Gu Yi was their lucky charm. Every time they gave him more screen time, or looped him into commercial deals, the results exceeded all expectations.