When Gu Yi brought up the idea of taking the college entrance exam, his manager Yuan Cheng didn’t object, only pointed out one issue: “Registration for next year’s exam has already closed. You’ll have to aim for the year after.”

Gu Yi, who had been imagining himself creating a high school exam miracle in six months, instantly deflated.

“As long as it’s within CROWN’s active contract period, I’ll do everything I can to support you.”

Yuan Cheng had been assigned to CROWN by Jiangshi TV. Once a full-time broadcaster himself, he was a bit more traditional than most talent managers.

To him, Gu Yi’s desire to return to his studies was admirable.

“You might want to sit in on some film-related courses too,” Yuan said. “If you plan on acting, they’ll come in handy.”

Gu Yi nodded lightly.

Yuan Cheng moved faster than expected. His wife was a teacher, and by that evening, he’d already handed Gu Yi a copy of the C Province entrance exam syllabus. “I’ve contacted a teacher as well. We’ll arrange classes according to next year’s schedule.”

“Thanks, Brother Yuan.”

“No need to thank me,” Yuan said. “Just a heads-up though—you’ll need to brace yourself for some real hardship next year.”

“…Got it.”

It had been a long time since Gu Yi last thought about the college entrance exam. In his previous life, he had studied relentlessly, gotten into his dream university, and gone all the way through grad school and a PhD. Most of those years were spent buried in exhaustion.

But… maybe giving it another shot wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Oh right,” Yuan added. “Your contract with Xingyao Entertainment has also been finalized. Just keep an eye out—the legal team will walk you through the details.”

On the last working day of the year, while the other CROWN members had already gone home for the Lunar New Year, Gu Yi’s contract termination with Xingyao Entertainment was finally settled.

Fortunately, things hadn’t escalated to a full-blown lawsuit.

Xingyao had a reputation—they were basically VIP members of the local court system in S City, with lawsuits every year against their own idols. Some were big names like Chen Zhongyao, others were completely unknown. Their legal team crushed most artists like bugs.

But Gu Yi was a different case—he had a powerful new agency lined up, one that far outmatched Xingyao’s resources.

So the two sides had no choice but to sit down and negotiate.

After all, Xingyao didn’t dare offend Sun Youming. And the contract’s terms, when scrutinized, clearly showed the obligations weren’t equally balanced—Gu Yi had poured in far more than the company ever gave back.

All in all, the final settlement was pretty favorable for Gu Yi.

He flipped through the paperwork.

He had paid a termination fee, but it was basically negligible. Since joining CROWN, the revenue Xingyao earned from him had already covered the cost.

When he got to the last page, Gu Yi frowned. “This is just petty.”

Yuan sighed. “Even I didn’t expect that one.”

The final clause detailed a list of petty demands—Xingyao wanted to reclaim the apartment they had rented for him, effective immediately. Gu Yi looked at the date—they were already past the move-out deadline.

“Can’t they at least give me a few more days?”

He had promised Auntie Wang he’d celebrate New Year’s with the neighbors.

His birth parents had passed long ago, and he had no real contact with any relatives. If not for Auntie Wang’s invitation, he truly would’ve had nowhere to go.

Now with Xingyao reclaiming the apartment, he didn’t even have a roof over his head.

“No problem. Our family still has two flats in the neighborhood. Just pick one and move in.”

Gu Yi had originally planned to call Auntie Wang and say he couldn’t make it. But as he explained about the termination, she cursed his former boss for being heartless, and within a few minutes had resolved the entire housing crisis.

Buying a home officially moved up on Gu Yi’s to-do list.

Housing in S City wasn’t cheap—especially new builds in the city center. Gu Yi wasn’t picky. The community he lived in already suited him—convenient location, good transit. He planned to buy there after the holiday.

In fact, as soon as he voiced the idea, Auntie Wang compiled a list of available flats: “I know all the agents. I’ll talk to their bosses for you.”

This year’s New Year’s was a quiet one for Gu Yi.

Though Auntie Wang invited him to join their family celebration, he didn’t want to intrude. He stayed home and had a solo New Year’s Eve dinner.

The others were all out of town. CROWN had actually received quite a few invitations for holiday events, but Yuan had declined them all to let the boys rest.

“Look at my family’s crabs! Wanna eat?”

—Ever since getting home, Yang Ting had been showing off his seafood stash non-stop. The others had long since developed a mental filter for his flexing.

Ji Chi and Xie Xingjia lived in the warmer southern provinces. Gu Yi bundled in his down coat, shivered in the cold, and saw videos of them lighting fireworks outside in just sweaters.

He Zhao and Liu Junyuan had gone quiet after heading home. Unless tagged in the group chat, they only appeared to post videos of themselves playing home chef.

As night fell and fireworks lit up the square, Gu Yi received messages in the group chat—New Year’s wishes from the whole team. Even private messages from each of them.

“Wishing Teacher Gu grows taller and never goes bald!”
“Happy New Year, Teacher Gu!!”
“Happy New Year!!”

Gu Yi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry—because everyone had sent him New Year’s money too.

Despite being one of the older members in CROWN, he often felt like the one being looked after. The little brother.

“Happy New Year!”

He sent back red envelopes to everyone too.

“And just like that, the year is over. Not long ago, I was still unsure if this idol path was right for me. Blink once, and suddenly so many people know my name.”

“Same here…”

“I actually knew about Xie Xingjia before Battle of the Stars. I always thought he’d be aloof and cold. But after getting to know him…”

Xie Xingjia: “?”

“…turns out he’s a cat person.”

“Let’s keep pushing forward next year, partners.”

“Yes!! Fighting!”

Yuan Cheng joined in too, bringing Ke Rua on camera. The usually hyperactive cat looked a little off today.

“Someone set off firecrackers in the neighborhood. Scared the little guy half to death.”

On video, Yuan lifted Ke Rua to the camera. Seeing the pitiful, wide-eyed kitten, the boys all laughed and tried to comfort him.

Even Gu Yi couldn’t help but smile.

He was spending the holiday alone, but this warmth reached him anyway.

After the group call ended, Yuan sent Gu Yi another video invite.

Gu Yi was surprised—they had already exchanged greetings earlier, and he’d even received Yuan’s red envelope.

When he accepted the call, Ke Rua’s fluffy face filled the screen. The kitten’s eyes were round and sparkling, and he even pawed at the camera.

“Say Happy New Year to Teacher Gu, Ke Rua. He’s the one who rescued you, remember?”

Gu Yi pulled a funny face. Ke Rua meowed back.

“If you’re bored, I’ll send him over.”

“Actually, not bored at all.” Gu Yi stood up and turned the camera—“These are from all the uncles and aunties.”

His apartment had been bustling before dinner. The neighbors had delivered steaming buns, rice cakes, freshly cooked dishes—hot and cold, stacked so high the table could barely hold it. They even brought fruit and drinks.

Gu Yi had tried to refuse, but as an introvert, he had no resistance against such overwhelming enthusiasm. He could only surrender.

“Tomorrow’s going to be busy.”

The community had planned a full day of events—lantern displays at night, street stalls during the day, singing, dancing, and even calligraphy. As the community’s cultural ambassador, Gu Yi had to attend a few.

Yuan: “Good luck.”

—

Gu Yi was up early the next morning. After breakfast, he saw the group chat buzzing—neighbors were discussing the day’s parade.

Each district took part in the city’s annual New Year float parade. Every float made a lap around the main roads, showcasing their local flavor and building community spirit.

At first, the event was cheerful and festive. But over the years… it had gotten competitive.

Each neighborhood now tried to outshine the others.

Each float needed someone to represent the district. Traditionally, neighborhoods rotated the role yearly—this year was Hecheng’s turn.

Hecheng had a mostly elderly population. There were young volunteers, sure, but during the holidays, no one wanted to pull them away from family.

“We need someone with good looks and good vibes. That’s tricky…”

The chat bubbled with suggestions—then, suddenly, silence.

Gu Yi felt a chill.

Sure enough, the next moment, everyone started tagging him:

“I nominate Little Gu!”
“Me too!”

Gu Yi: “…”

Though not technically a community worker, he’d become a staple in the “One Big Hecheng Family” group chat. He was even one of the admins.

With great power came… parade duties.

The truth was, Gu Yi didn’t participate in as many events as the other cultural ambassadors.

“It’s easy! Just ride the float, wave to the citizens, and read the introduction. We’ve already got the script.”

Gu Yi… would rather perform a dozen stage numbers than do this.

He told the other members about his strange New Year duty.

“Is there a livestream? I want to watch.”
“Camped for the stream.”
“Even Ke Rua wants to tune in.”

Gu Yi: “Don’t bully the kitten.”

In the end, Gu Yi had no choice but to climb aboard.

It was cold, so the parade didn’t start until around noon. The route passed the city square, shopping district, and stadium—about two hours in total.

Other floats had people in costumes or teams of dancers. Gu Yi wore a suit. Auntie Wang stuck multiple heat pads on him to keep him warm.

Before the parade started, all was quiet. But as they neared the square, drums and music broke out—it was Good Luck Comes.

“Xx Street, located in the southeast, population of…”

As the drums roared, cheers followed. A staff member behind Gu Yi muttered, “Their float starts at the square. Totally unfair.”

The second float had a full-on square-dance performance. Fans twirled, red scarves flew—the festive energy soared.

Gu Yi asked, “Uncle, are we… kind of underpowered?”

The staffer hesitated. “Don’t worry. You’re worth a hundred men.”

Gu Yi: “…”

Don’t think he didn’t catch that pause.

Then it was his turn. As the float in front pulled away, the music started. Gu Yi read from the script, waving stiffly at the crowd.

Honestly?

He had never been this nervous—not even walking red carpets or waving at fans.

He could swear that over the blaring music, he heard people murmuring:

“Why’s there only one guy?”

Gu Yi: “…”

Yes, that’s right. It’s me. One man army. I fight alone.

—

Mai Qi’s eyes nearly popped out of her head.

The person in that float looked… exactly like Gu Yi.

She’d just wanted to sleep in, but her parents had dragged her out to watch this dumb parade. The weather sucked too—gloomy skies, freezing wind. She could barely feel her legs.

She was ready to leave when she suddenly heard a voice—so familiar.

She thought she was imagining things.

But as a veteran Battle of the Stars viewer, a Summer Bloom stan, and hardcore CROWN fan—there was no way she’d mistake Gu Yi’s voice.

Then she looked closer at the figure on the float. Too familiar. Way too familiar.

Mai Qi: “…”

The real question wasn’t whether that was Gu Yi.

It was: How the hell did Gu Yi end up on a parade float?

She snapped dozens of photos, trailing the float from the square to the shopping district. Along the way, she imagined poor, innocent Teacher Gu being tricked into this with sweet talk.

She started spotting fellow fans in the crowd—hidden among the masses, whispering his name.

She was almost sure—Gu Yi had been bamboozled.

But looking at the high-def real-life Gu Yi, just a few steps away… she had to admit—if this was a scam, the world needed more of them.

The final stretch from the shopping district to the stadium was usually the quietest. That area wasn’t as busy during the New Year.

But as they continued, something felt off.

Why were more and more people gathering?

And why were they all crowding around that one float?

Theirs had dozens of performers!

And that guy was alone!

…Wait. Was he shaking hands now?

He had to be a plant.

Mai Qi posted everything she saw that day to Weibo:

[“Aaaaahhh I hate that I don’t live in S City!!”]
[“What kind of chaos gremlin is Teacher Gu? Almost died laughing.”]
[“This might be one of his most iconic performances. I want a handshake too!!”]
[“God it’s freezing and I’m snotting icicles. How is this man STILL so good-looking?!”]

Fans agreed: this float moment rivaled even the Hecheng Community’s viral LED board appearance. Absolute legend.

[“Dead (ᗒ ᗨᗕ) Already camping my own district’s event schedule. What if we get a surprise Teacher Gu cameo?”]