Gu Yi and Ji Chi were both remarkably relaxed.

To them, rankings weren’t everything. Popularity was up to the fans—it was beyond their control.

What mattered more was ending their journey on this stage without regret.

The final episode was technically a solo showcase, but with media interviews, debut ceremonies, and all kinds of promotions packed in, the contestants were left with very little time for themselves.

Still, Gu Yi and Ji Chi spent the majority of it rehearsing.

Ji Chi chose a high-energy dance track—his strong suit.

Gu Yi picked a song titled “Xia” (The Chivalrous One)—a classic martial arts ballad.

Martial arts songs rose to popularity in the 70s and 80s, riding the wave of wuxia dramas. And just as those dramas faded, so too did the music. Even now, the only singers who could truly capture the spirit of the genre were those who had lived it in its heyday.

These songs were bold, nostalgic, rich with themes of brotherhood, loyalty, honour, and romance—every lyric steeped in the dreams of a wandering swordsman.

Technically, Xia wasn’t a particularly difficult song. The real challenge lay in capturing its spirit—that carefree defiance, the heroic air. You needed strong vocal stamina. Drag it out, sing it too sentimentally, and the whole thing would fall flat.

Gu Yi spent weeks working with his mentor, Han Xiao.

Han himself wasn’t a wuxia specialist. So he dug up old clips of veteran singers performing Xia decades ago. He and Gu Yi studied them together—examining every vocal inflection, every breath, every expression.

“Ah… ah… ah—”

“Stop!”

Han raised a hand.

“Too forceful. You’re pushing too hard—it loses that natural elegance.”

Gu Yi had also watched renditions by singers known for their vocal acrobatics. Technically, they were flawless. But something about them felt wrong. The song had all its notes, yet none of its essence. The soul of Xia had been polished out.

“Let me try again,” Gu Yi said.

Han watched him work from morning to evening, singing, listening, refining. Bit by bit, Gu Yi molded the song until it began to carry the air he wanted.

Han had the time to help because most contestants were fully focused on their group performances—or more accurately, on boosting their popularity one last time before the finale.

That’s why Gu Yi and Ji Chi stood out.
They still cared about the stage.

Other talent shows—from the viral Idol X to the career-launching Hotblood Debut—had all stumbled at the end. Despite breakout performances earlier in the season, the final episode often fizzled. Weak performances, tired routines.

To veterans like Han Xiao, the debut night was a mirror.

Yes, fame could come overnight—but the industry that awaited them afterward was merciless. Every opportunity counted. Even the smallest stage had to be treated like a battlefield.

Because if a debut night could be taken lightly—then so could every stage after.

For every contestant on Battle of the Stars, this should be the defining moment.

A weak ending here, and everything they’d promised—their dreams, their futures—would feel like empty words.

Han had seen something in Gu Yi from the very first episode, Endless City.

Audiences could sense effort.
And so could the people sharing the stage.

---

Finale Night – Battle of the Stars

The livestream had barely started, and viewership had already hit the highest in Jiangshi TV history.

The moment the contestants appeared in matching uniforms on-screen, the fans’ screams practically burst eardrums—

“Gu Yi!! Gu Yi!!”
“Ji Chi!!! Aaaaahhh!!”
“Liang Mu, you better debut—NOW!”

Orange Peel had never seen this many fans holding Gu Yi lightboards. The venue was enormous, divided into glowing sections by color. Lightboards of all shades painted the space into a living mosaic.

Usually, she chatted with like-minded fans on her homepage feed. But only now did she realize just how many fans Gu Yi had gained.

This past week, in preparation for the finale, Orange Peel had shared her entire journey as a fan on her favourite forum—from the early days, when Gu Yi had just a few thousand followers, to the long nights when she was the only name in his livestream chatroom… and now—to this.

She took pictures of the crowd and uploaded them with one line:

“Epic comeback. From underdog to triumph. This is Gu Yi.”

The contestants took the stage in reverse order of their rankings. Gu Yi performed second to last. Ji Chi, as always, closed the show.

At this point, everyone knew—regardless of how other rankings shifted—Gu Yi and Ji Chi were locked into debut. Their spots were secured.

Even just looking at the audience—the oceans of red and blue lights were the most brilliant by far.

As third-place contestant Xie Xingjia began his performance, Gu Yi calmed himself. When the MC called his name, he climbed the stairs, one step at a time.

Backstage, only a soft ambient light remained. He couldn’t see the stage, nor the crowd.

But then—

The curtain rose.

It was like being plunged from night into daylight. The ground beneath him hadn’t changed—but the lighting had. And when Gu Yi looked up…

It felt like he’d stepped into a sea of blue.

All around him, the only thing he could hear was the sound of thousands shouting his name.

The opening notes of Xia began to play.

“Wait, is he doing Xia?”
“That’s a pretty rare pick for a talent show finale.”
“He may be a shoo-in for debut, but still—this song’s a bold choice.”

In the family section, Auntie Wang and the others gasped.

“Little Gu chose that song?”

Auntie Wang had grown up during the golden era of wuxia dramas. She knew Xia by heart. Eight contestants had performed before Gu Yi—some sang, some danced—but none of their performances had really connected with the aunties.

“Like the sword slicing wind, piercing the dying sun and the fading moon.”

“!!”
“That’s beautiful!”

Gu Yi’s voice didn’t sound like the original singer’s—but after just a few lines, the spirit of the song flooded the room.

The sharpness of a blade.
The weight of a broadsword.
The fearless passion of a wanderer.

Unlike the lyrical elegance of Northern Bagpipes, Xia was fierce and swift—its soul forged in steel.

Swordlight and shadow. Revenge and redemption. Iron hearts and burning blood.
The song distilled the very essence of one word:

Xia.

From the very first episode, longtime fans of Battle of the Stars had watched Gu Yi grow. But for the new viewers brought in by the buzz around A Letter on My Desk, his finals performance was nothing short of shocking—

“Holy sh*t! This guy’s good!”

At first glance, Gu Yi might’ve seemed like just another pretty face in a sea of contestants.

But the moment he opened his mouth to sing Xia, that illusion shattered.

Liang Mu and Xie Xingjia from Baiqian Entertainment were already considered among the strongest in the competition—but what Gu Yi brought to the stage was something entirely different.

If they had to describe it, he wasn’t just performing.

He was a light source.

He didn’t need fancy stage effects or elaborate visuals. Gu Yi lit up the stage just by standing there.

“Gu Yi!!”
“So freakin’ handsome!!”
“Every stage he does is pure FIRE!!”

Auntie Wang’s phone, like the rest of her group’s, hadn’t stopped buzzing all night.

Once word got out that she had extra tickets, relatives and neighbors came knocking—everyone wanted a seat to support Gu Yi. But Auntie Wang insisted: these were Gu Yi’s tickets, given to her personally. No matter what, she had to be there for him. Everything else could wait.

It wasn’t until her daughter searched online and told her that the finals tickets were going for several thousand—VIP tickets like theirs even climbing into five-digit figures—that Auntie Wang truly understood:

Gu Yi was now a star.

But he never acted like it.
Whenever they spoke, it was always about the little things: the latest dances from the community troupe, what was going on in the neighborhood. Gu Yi listened with genuine joy, never the least bit impatient.

Auntie Wang used to think fans were crazy—swarming airports, chasing cars… The news made them sound like lunatics.

But now, hearing thousands of people scream Gu Yi’s name, she couldn’t help but feel proud.

In the group chat, she messaged proudly:

“Looking at all these young people, our Xiao Gu is still the best-looking.”

“Heh…”
“Isn’t that obvious? Xiao Gu is our community’s crown jewel.”
“Heh…”

Only Uncle Zhang remained sullen.

He hadn’t gotten a ticket.

“Am I not worthy of cheering for Xiao Gu?”

He figured he and Gu Yi were at least top-five close in the dance team. But the ladies had excluded him, saying their group was going for matching outfits and needed “visual cohesion.” Uncle Zhang, apparently, would throw off the look.

So now, every time Auntie Wang said something in the chat, he replied with a lone, bitter:

“Heh.”

During the performance, Gu Yi spotted them in the VIP section. Perhaps his gaze lingered too long—because the camera even paused there for a moment.

“Look at all those pictures of Gu Yi!!”
“They’re candids and he still looks like a model!”
“Wait—I recognize them! That’s the group of aunties who do square dancing with him!”

The aunties weren’t wearing anything flashy, but their outfits were thoughtfully chosen. Their photos? Meticulously prepared. The frames had been carefully designed, debated over, and handpicked. Their goal was simple:

Show the world the most handsome version of their Xiao Gu.

Even Ji Chi gave Gu Yi a thumbs-up after his set:

“Those photos were lit.”

The group stage featured two high-tempo tracks. Gu Yi and Ji Chi were, once again, placed in the same group—and their chemistry was undeniable. During their performance, the cheers from their fans drowned out everyone else.

Then came the long, drawn-out wait for the results.

Contestants were seated according to last episode’s rankings. Everyone—both on stage and in the crowd—knew what was coming:

The moment of truth.

Debut wasn’t the end-all, be-all. But for these fans, this was the dream. They wanted their idol to shine, to soar.

“The final rankings of Battle of the Stars—the last and most decisive—are right here in my hands.”

“Stop dragging it out!!”
“Just say it already!”

“Ranked 10th: Lei Yuxiang, from Yuanzi Interactive.”

Gasps exploded across the arena.

Lei Yuxiang had been in the debut lineup last round—now he was in 10th.

“9th place: Wu Jie, from Zhongsheng Entertainment.”

Wu Jie’s expression fell. Quiet devastation.

“8th place: Guo Yi, from Mia Culture.”

Another debut spot, gone.

“This is insane! My heart can’t take this!”

“7th place is…”

7th was the last non-debut position. Just one step from the dream.

The stage fell silent. No one spoke, but the tension filled the air like smoke.

In this moment, debut was life and death.

“7th place: Liang Mu, from Baiqian Entertainment.”

Baiqian’s two-star gamble—only one would debut. Liang Mu had given fans stages like Soul, but tonight, it wasn’t enough.

As his face fell, the arena erupted again—

“MY BIAS MADE IT!!”
“AAAAHHHHHH!!”

“Let’s give a round of applause to our six debut members!”

Gu Yi and Ji Chi turned to each other and exchanged a quiet high-five.

“Congrats on debut,” Ji Chi mouthed.

“You too.”

No need to speak. They understood each other completely.

No matter what the final ranking was—they had made it.

Together.