“Are we even qualified to attend the Golden String Awards just for releasing a single EP?”

The Golden String Awards didn’t have the massive clout of the Greenlime Music Festival, but within the industry, it was a respected ceremony. Sure, there were always some performers who showed up just for exposure without releasing any work that year—but most came with actual projects under their belt.

To be invited with only Summer Bloom as their first and only EP, the members couldn’t help but feel a bit unworthy.

Yuan Cheng reassured them, “Don’t worry. Summer Bloom has gotten great reviews. The Golden String Awards already had a confirmed guest list—you were added later by the organizers themselves.”

After Ren Ni covered Summer Bloom on a music show, the EP’s recognition skyrocketed. It had already earned a stellar reputation among fans, and now professionals were starting to take note too.

It had been exactly a year since the last Golden String Awards. In that time, only a handful of albums had been released, and even fewer had both strong critical acclaim and sales. With Summer Bloom continuing to gain momentum, the Golden String organizers had no problem squeezing CROWN into the lineup.

Of course, the recent sales rivalry between CROWN and Korea’s boy group SEM didn’t hurt—drama made for good ratings.

The awards were being held locally in S City. Per the organizers’ request, CROWN would be performing both Summer Bloom and Reckless at the ceremony.

Early that morning, Yuan Cheng herded them into a van.

“Brother Yuan, where are we going?”

Yuan, sleeves rolled up, looked so fired-up he might sell them off to fund a startup.

“Styling.”

Though Yuan came from an engineering background and now worked in entertainment, fashion had never been his thing. Being a northern guy, he had a blunt, no-nonsense personality. Right now, he was CROWN’s manager, but style aesthetics just weren’t his passion.

But lately, the constant drama between CROWN and SEM had really pissed him off.

When SEM fans called Gu Yi ugly, Yuan had assumed the other guy must look like a literal deity. One look at the photos and he swore their household yeast packet from yesterday had been stolen—and turned into an idol.

The fans even did side-by-side comparisons, mocking how CROWN wore no-name domestic brands during their debut stage, while SEM strutted in C-brand suits, radiating elite global aura.

Yuan Cheng: “…”

Even those so-called cheap domestic brands cost enough that CROWN had to sell 3,000 EPs just to afford them.

SEM? Their luxury suits only needed a thousand EPs’ worth.

Dragged out at the crack of dawn, the members sleepwalked their way into hair and makeup. They’d been so focused on training and preparing the EP that their personal image had admittedly taken a backseat.

By the time they were done, half the day had passed. They’d tried on countless outfits. Yuan had originally wanted them to upstage SEM by walking the red carpet in an even fancier luxury brand. But after all the fittings, ironically, it was the “cheap domestic label” SEM fans mocked that actually suited them best.

“There’s no need to compete,” Gu Yi said, patting Yuan on the shoulder. “We’re here for an awards show, not a showdown.”

They might not even run into SEM face-to-face.

↑

That was what Gu Yi thought… an hour ago.

But the moment they stepped onto the red carpet, seeing the sea of fans up ahead, he knew something was off.

“Oppa! Over here!!”
“Oppa, welcome to China!!”

SEM’s members were tall, well-built, and dressed in sharp, tailored suits that highlighted their stature and “flawless” features. Even with slightly puffy faces, their fans still saw them as perfection.

They stood in the centre of the carpet, wearing faintly smug expressions.

Though SEM was still a top-tier group in Korea, the idol market there moved fast. Six months ago, their agency had already debuted a new boy group, who were rapidly rising to challenge SEM’s spot.

But that new group hadn’t yet made a push into the Chinese market—here, SEM still held massive influence. The sales of Julia were proof.

In fact, Julia had stayed on top of the Lusheng Music sales chart for so long that SEM had spent years flaunting it on Korean variety shows. Their C-brand luxury endorsement deal came off the back of it. Until recently, luxury brands like C had never considered Korean idols due to market size.

This Golden String invitation was part of SEM’s plan to prove their continued dominance in China.

They’d heard about Julia being dethroned—but didn’t take it seriously. Now that they were here in person, reclaiming the top spot seemed inevitable.

They’d seen Chinese idol groups before. And weren’t impressed.

As SEM members basked in fan cheers from all directions, one of them couldn’t help but mutter:
“If only the support in Korea was still this strong.”

They stepped forward—only for a sudden surge in screaming behind them to interrupt.

Grinning, they turned, assuming fans were just reluctant to see them go.

They smiled. Raised their hands.

And then froze mid-wave.

Because the screams weren’t for them.

Their eyes locked with another group’s—CROWN had arrived.

In that perfect moment, Glam Rhythm reporter Lin Kui slammed her finger down on the shutter, capturing the encounter forever.

This was the first and only time SEM and CROWN appeared in the same frame.

The crowd noise slowly faded.

The fans who had just been shouting SEM’s names now couldn’t bring themselves to say “perfect visuals” again.

No matter how handsome they’d imagined SEM to be—no matter how much they’d mocked CROWN—the raw, unedited comparison was a brutal reality check.

SEM’s “flawless” physiques? CROWN matched them stride for stride.

SEM’s centre, Park Yongdae, was considered their visual ace. But… no matter how precise the surgery, it couldn’t beat original parts. Even though Park’s features were perfectly sculpted, side-by-side with Gu Yi, he lost on every front.

Even if the fans had originally come for SEM, in that moment—their momentum visibly faltered.

CROWN finished their red carpet walk without directly crossing paths with SEM. But something felt off. It seemed like SEM had sped up. By the time CROWN reached the signature wall, SEM’s members had already vanished.

Lin Kui, reporting for Glam Rhythm, swiftly uploaded a side-by-side shot of both groups in one frame.

[“Uhhh…”]
[“This is… awkward.”]
[“Is this… what we call a visual beatdown?”]
[“Yeah, I guess it counts as one.”]
[“I used to think C-pop stans were just delusional. Now I’m screaming.”]

The internet had long grown used to the arrogance of SEM fans. So seeing such an undeniable visual contrast, netizens could only find it… hilarious.

—

To SEM’s fans, their group’s stage power should’ve easily wiped the floor with CROWN ten times over.

And yet—on the Golden String stage, SEM’s performance didn’t just fall short of their prime. Even those who knew nothing about them could feel the sloppiness in their movements.

After all that jumping and spinning, not even a bead of sweat?

There had already been past online rumours about SEM slacking off during their concerts in China—showing far less effort compared to their Korean gigs.

[“Come on, oppas are jet-lagged, okay?”]
[“You don’t understand! That’s coordination! Our boys are professionals!”]
[“Time difference… of one hour?”]

SEM had never been known for powerhouse vocals. And now, with all the dancing, their breath control was visibly a mess.

After the first song, fans barely had time to feel sorry for them before SEM launched into a second number.

[“Ahhh amazing!!”]
[“As expected of a top-tier group!!”]

Broken Strings happened to be in the audience. Upon hearing this, he couldn’t help but laugh.

[“K-pop groups really are something. After gasping through the first song, they sound miraculously steady for the second?”]

The lip-syncing was shameless.

[“Would they dare pull this in Korea? They’re way too spoiled here.”]

Broken Strings had built a reputation as one of the few influencers willing to speak his mind. Naturally, SEM fans often swarmed him for it. And if even a big account like his faced pressure, it was no wonder most music critics chose to stay silent.

—

Coincidentally—or not—CROWN’s stage followed SEM’s again.

Had CROWN not been scheduled next, SEM’s performance might’ve once again been glamorized by their fanbase. But—

Summer Bloom had already been famously covered by Ren Ni, but when the original artists took the stage, it became something else entirely.

The seamless fusion of voice and emotion transformed the stage.

This wasn’t about flashy sets or high-energy choreography. What gripped the audience was pure, unfiltered music.

Compared to their debut performance of Crown, this time, CROWN’s delivery carried more weight.

No clean, delicate intro this time. Summer Bloom opened in a blaze—vivid, fiery, burning.

As the last note rang out, the audience’s applause went on and on.

Only SEM fans still tried to argue:

“Of course their vocals are steady. They’re just standing still. Try singing and dancing at the same time!”

—Then came Reckless.

Which vividly answered what real sing-and-dance ability looked like.

Even the most defensive SEM fans went dead silent.

No matter what they said, it was like CROWN had come fully prepared to slap them in the face—Reckless made SEM’s previous performance look downright lazy.

Even purely from a musical standpoint, Summer Bloom and Reckless were just better songs.

SEM’s attitude toward Chinese fans had always been lukewarm at best. No matter how hard fans worked to buy albums or shower them with expensive birthday gifts, what they got in return was always half-hearted effort.

Without comparison, they might’ve kept deluding themselves.

But the comparison tonight was just too crushing.

[“That second song—Candy—was definitely lip-synced, right?”]
[“They were probably too tired from flying in from Korea. Jet lag, you know?”]

But just as some fans began making excuses, a headline hit the trending page:

[SEM spotted clubbing all night after landing in China.]

[“But Candy was written for us! Don’t you remember when SEM first entered the China market?”]

Back then, Candy was the encore for every concert they held in China. They never performed it in Korea. That alone had made Chinese fans feel special.

Unique.

But tonight—everything changed.