Chapter 28 Zhou Yili: I’m Gay
On the day the variety show aired, "Happy Challenge" employed a panoramic live broadcast format, and even half an hour before the official start, its popularity had already reached an unprecedented peak.
“Lao Gong, our child!” The director slapped his thigh in excitement. “Born into the spotlight, our little happy baby arrived with a silver spoon in its mouth!”
The assistant director simply stared at him. “Maybe you should bow when you see Best Actor Shen later on.” He was a man of few words with a cool temperament, not interested in correcting such peculiar nicknames. His indifferent gaze flicked over the director’s hand on his trousers. “And next time, slap your own thigh.”
The director withdrew his hand in silence. “Alrighty then.”
Meanwhile, Shen Jixing happened to run into Zhou Yili, who had just finished makeup backstage. This young master had a penchant for black, yet always managed to dress flamboyantly, like a peacock displaying its feathers. Shen Jixing’s eyes swept over his lazily crossed long legs, a silver chain slung across the slim waist cinched by a black shirt, tousled black-blue hair falling rakishly over his brows.
“Like what you see?” Zhou Yili scrolled his phone languidly, not bothering to look up, but somehow he knew Shen Jixing had been watching him.
“Mhm,” Shen Jixing replied calmly, glancing at the door marked Dressing Room A. “You might want to stand up, though.”
“You’re leaning against my dressing room door.”
Zhou Yili slowly lifted his eyes, confident that if he didn’t feel awkward, Shen Jixing would have to. He straightened, the silver chain at his waist shifting to reveal the contours of his abs.
“Didn’t notice.” His tone was relaxed. “My room’s too small. Came out for some air.”
Shen Jixing’s gaze lifted from his waist, his voice cool and detached. “A thirty-six square meter dressing room is small?”
Zhou Yili, unfamiliar with the realities of soaring housing prices, replied, “I prefer three hundred and sixty square meters.”
“Planning to play soccer in there?” Shen Jixing asked, raising his brows.
Zhou Yili’s eyes flashed with a dangerous glint. “I want to spread the three million in compensation someone owes me across every tile—would that satisfy you?”
The little lion bristled.
Shen Jixing said nothing further. The conversation had lost its flavor. Zhou Yili, seeing he’d rendered Shen Jixing speechless, cheered up, slid his phone into his pocket, and prepared to leave.
“Wait,” Shen Jixing suddenly called out. “What’s our story on the show—do we pretend not to know each other?”
Zhou Yili met his aloof gaze. “Do we even need to pretend? Weren’t we never close to begin with?”
“True enough,” Shen Jixing nodded, pushing open the dressing room door and disappearing inside.
Zhou Yili was left standing there, half exasperated, half amused. “Six,” he muttered. This man never played games, just a block of ice pitching straight balls—enough to drive anyone mad.
At precisely ten o’clock, the live broadcast went nationwide. "Happy Challenge" had invited only six guests; besides the two previously announced, last night the official account revealed Fang Siqian as a surprise addition. The remaining three were all mysterious guests.
The first thing viewers saw was a black screen and the mechanical bass of a male voice:
“Welcome to the live-action game show ‘Happy Challenge.’ I am your butler, Zero-Two, but you may call me ‘Ling’er.’”
A coquettish female voice suddenly chimed in, “Brother Xiaoyao~”
The chat exploded:
“What the hell, this is so random—”
“Seriously, that made me laugh for no reason—”
“I think I see why this director’s shows always flop…”
“This show combines intelligence, mental and physical strength, charm, endurance, leadership, and teamwork in a horror-survival romance-style challenge reality show.”
“… There’s something weird mixed in here.”
“Endurance, huh? That’s… nice.”
“Horror survival romance? Is this an escape room with affairs or a dating show that turns into a horror flick?”
“What a fun setup, hurry up and move on to the next segment—”
Backstage, the director was wracked with self-doubt. “Is there something wrong with my design?”
“They said my last show was too much of a nerd fest, so I added some romance. Isn’t that good?”
The assistant director glanced over. “It’s good.”
He then switched to the guest view, revealing three enclosed, black rooms. The six guests had been locked inside in pairs.
The first group: a puppy-like boy in a mascot costume, and an icy model type tied to a chair.
The second group: a gentle, warm man locked in a cage, and a current overseas idol wrapped in red laser beams.
“A dating show—could this be the legendary dating show?”
“Who gets locked in a cage on a dating show? Poor guy.”
“It’s just a method. Do you coddle your son at home too?”
“Where’s Shen Jixing? My keyboard’s ready—let him out!”
“Don’t tell me they paired Shen Jixing with a female guest. Didn’t the rumors say he sleeps with male fans? Poor girl…”
As the third room’s segment began:
The third group: a cool actor shackled in handcuffs, and a blue-haired girl—no, a swaggering guy—with a black silk blindfold over his eyes.
The chat fell eerily silent for a moment.
“Zhou… Zhou Yili?”
“If you insist on pairing these two up, I guess that works…?”
“Zhou fans, come join us. Your guy just got served up as a ‘female guest’ to Shen Jixing. Aren’t you mad?”
“Not at all.”
“Fang fans: …”
Zhou Yili’s fan base had always been a phenomenon. They never interacted, acted sweet, or obsessed—just argued. Most had fallen for his youthful looks, but when they wanted to call him ‘husband’—
Zhou Yili had announced, “I’m gay.”
“Female fan: Oh.”
“Haha, who even likes you? I wasn’t planning on calling you husband anyway. Who cares if you like men or women, you’re so fake.”
“Zhou Yili: Oh.”
“Female fan: You’re just my mp3 player on the internet!”
“Zhou Yili: Oh.”
And so the mutual grudge was established. Except when he was being slandered, then they’d collectively defend him, or when he released a new album, they’d boost his sales, or if there was a poll, they’d either make him number one or tie with Shen Jixing. Other than that, they had nothing to do with him.
“Our relationship is just queen and mp3. (Puts on sunglasses, lifts them, tears up behind them)”
Now, not only were they not upset, it was almost time for revenge.
“Brat, you’re gay, huh? Now you’re being served to Best Actor Shen as a female guest—happy now?”
“Fang fans: … Has your fandom really evolved this far?”
“Contestants, please free yourselves from your restraints and escape within fifteen minutes.”
As the camera panned in, the guests’ faces became clear. One particular feed’s viewership outstripped all others—everyone knew who the main character was, just from the numbers alone.
Yet he was no longer the reigning king of the industry.
So the netizens gathered, ready to make his comeback as perilous as possible—
Shen Jixing leaned against a pitch-black wall, his wrists shackled to the window with silver cuffs. His features were as delicate as porcelain, clean as an ink painting—a pure white dove caged in a narrow space. He tried to pull his wrist free, the fair skin scraping red against the metal.
“Hiss…”
——
An absolutely extraordinary Omega physique? (Nosebleed)