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After the last group finished their performance, the production team selected a few of the currently most popular trainees online for solo interview segments.
Ou Xiangchen was among them.
“Don’t be nervous,” Fang Yimeng said, dressed in a cropped denim jacket and tight jeans. Her usual long wavy hair was tied up into a playful bun, making her look more like a lively college student than a celebrity. “The producer is really kind and easy to talk to. If there’s a question you don’t want to answer, just look at me—I’ll help you dodge it.”
The fake “master and apprentice” stood side by side at the entrance to the interview area. Li Ke had just finished delivering a gift when she heard Yimeng was headed for an interview. She rushed over, holding a thermos.
Ou Xiangchen had changed into his usual casual clothes—a hoodie and light blue jeans—looking like your typical energetic teen.
The two standing together made an unexpectedly perfect pair—handsome and beautiful, youthful and fresh.
A nearby female producer, holding a stack of interview questions, couldn’t help but sigh, “The visual chemistry between you two is insane—one’s cold and aloof, the other’s flirtatious and elegant. You’d be perfect for a tragic romance drama. That ‘unrequited love, doomed from the start’ vibe? Viewers would be addicted!”
“I’m holding you to that. If that’s not the next script we get, I’m not doing it,” Fang Yimeng quipped playfully.
The producer raised her eyebrows in surprise but quickly composed herself, stepping forward with her notebook to casually chat about their experience on the show.
Just as Fang Yimeng began flexing her social charm, passionately discussing her thoughts, Director Zheng’s harsh voice suddenly blared through a megaphone nearby:
“Stop the interview with Qiao Yi! Cut his segment and pack up the equipment. Go interview Min Qing and her group instead!”
Then, with a scowl on his face, he stormed into the interview set.
“Isn’t Qiao Yi Liao Ran’s favorite young actor?” the assistant beside the producer couldn’t help asking.
The producer shrugged, pulled out her phone, glanced at it, and chuckled.
“Teacher Fang, want the inside scoop?”
“Of course! Missing out on gossip is like losing a million bucks—spill!” Yimeng leaned in like a seasoned gossip connoisseur.
As she moved closer, she noticed Ou Xiangchen standing quietly behind her, seemingly forgotten. Clicking her tongue, she reached back and tugged on his hoodie sleeve, pulling him to her side.
When he looked at her, confused and surprised, she didn’t explain—just pointed at the producer and mouthed silently: “Gossip.”
The producer, too immersed in her juicy story, didn’t notice their little interaction. Once she organized her thoughts, she leaned in and whispered, “This actually involves you, Teacher Fang.”
“Me?” Yimeng raised an eyebrow in surprise.
She’d never even interacted with Qiao Yi. What kind of conflict could there possibly be?
“President Lu was reviewing the surveillance footage to investigate who tampered with the stage props, right? They found someone named Qiao Leiyue from the logistics team. She swapped out the prop tea with real boiling water. Turns out, she’s Qiao Yi’s cousin.”
The producer didn’t say anything more, but her round face was full of knowing expression—“We all know what’s going on here.”
Yimeng suddenly realized, then gasped softly.
But then she frowned again. “I’ve never even spoken to Qiao Yi. Why would he try to hurt me?”
Standing beside her, unintentionally dragged into this gossip session, Ou Xiangchen looked up at her with calm eyes—then quickly looked away again.
“He’s been trying to get in Liao Ran’s good graces. On the 21st, when you hadn’t arrived yet, she came by to rehearse. She heard from Zhu Rong that you’d been visiting the training camp often lately. She said a few nasty things. Qiao Yi probably took it to heart,” he said quietly.
Though his head remained lowered, his clear voice carried a hint of heaviness.
The producer and Yimeng exchanged a knowing glance. As seasoned gossip lovers, they easily picked up on the implication.
The producer raised an eyebrow and teased, “Wow, you even remember the exact date Yimeng didn’t show up?”
Realizing how that sounded, she quickly cleared her throat to cover her awkwardness.
Things got a little tense after that, but fortunately, Director Zheng soon returned with his megaphone.
“Teacher Fang, please get ready. We’re starting your interview now,” he said more calmly this time. His demeanor softened a bit as he ordered the lighting setup to be adjusted.
Once everything was ready, he stepped aside.
The interviewer was the same friendly producer from earlier. Since they already knew each other, the interview flowed naturally.
Most of the questions focused on new talent, especially Ou Xiangchen. Whenever he struggled to answer or seemed uncomfortable, Fang Yimeng would effortlessly redirect the attention to herself.
“Was the tea-splashing scene something your group came up with on your own?” the producer asked with a mischievous smile, looking up from the question list.
It was a bit of a trap. Ou Xiangchen remembered the recent trending rumors on Weibo accusing Fang Yimeng’s team of bullying and splashing hot coffee on a staff member. If this scene was linked to those, it’d be a PR disaster when the next episode aired.
His expression turned tense. But since his usual demeanor was cool and calm, no one noticed anything unusual.
“We’ve already been asked four questions. Everyone else only got three. Why are we getting the bonus round?” Yimeng sensed the sudden shift in energy and smoothly diverted attention back to herself.
“Let’s take a quick break—hydrate and rest a bit,” she added with a warm smile.
Though her reputation in the industry wasn’t spotless, her connections were undeniably powerful. So even if people didn’t like her personally, they wouldn’t dare disrespect her backing.
Except the camera guy, everyone visibly relaxed.
“Assistant, please get me my thermos,” she said sweetly to Li Ke.
Li Ke quickly opened the thermos and poured a cup of warm water. Just as she was about to step onto the set, Yimeng—perched casually on a tall stool—let out a soft chuckle.