The noise outside seeped into the car. It stopped and started as the driver grumbled, “Where did all these people come from?”
Reporters carrying cameras, fans, and event staff all swarmed the area, snapping pictures of anything and everything.
Gu Yaxing wasn’t worried that Luo Ding would falter. After all, his last appearance at *Fashion’s* anniversary had made headlines, and only now were the CP fans picking up on the chemistry between him and Duan Xiubo. Gu Yaxing had noticed that whenever Luo Ding appeared in a major public setting, he always handled it with unexpected calm and poise.
It was as if he was born for the entertainment industry. Mastering the art of remaining composed in the spotlight was something even seasoned stars struggled with. Many handled themselves well behind the scenes, but when faced with the overwhelming attention of the public, they fumbled. The pressure of being watched often triggered feelings of insecurity and fear that could only be overcome with experience. The presence one projected on camera was not the same as in daily life, and that was why celebrities often shone brighter in photos compared to ordinary people.
Gu Yaxing felt incredibly lucky. After years of obscurity, he’d finally landed a golden goose. This goose was easy to take care of, not picky about food or clothing, and far less high-maintenance than other stars.
At the far end of the red carpet, two hosts were reviewing the name cards for the guests and rehearsing their introductions.
This year’s lineup was truly remarkable. Every year, the roster outshone the last. Two years ago surpassed the year before, last year topped the year before that, and this year… was set to break records once again.
“Mellen, X-, Chen Dingshan, Zhang Wenwei…” As they reached the end of the list, they paused when Luo Ding’s name came up. They exchanged glances.
This name, having shot to the top of the online voting charts, had the event organizers marveling at the unpredictable turns of fate.
Luo Ding had been here before, several years ago, or maybe even earlier. No one remembered exactly. Back then, he wasn’t invited as an individual, but as part of a duo with Su Shengbai. The fact that they didn’t leave much of an impression wasn’t because of any awards they’d won—they hadn’t won any.
During that appearance, hardly any media attention was directed their way. They were just newcomers, shy and timid, quietly entering and quietly leaving.
But things had changed so quickly. In just a few years, the once-obscure duo had gone their separate ways. One was now focused on film, while the other had re-emerged from obscurity in such a dazzling way.
The veteran hosts exchanged brief words, recalling their faint memories of Luo Ding from a few years back. They vaguely remembered his handsome face, but the most vivid memory was how his hand had trembled slightly as he signed his name.
Huang Yao smiled. “Back then, he and his partner used to call us ‘Sister Huang’ and ‘Brother Ji’. I wonder if it’ll be reversed now.”
Ji Xing smirked. “Are you jealous?”
“Not at all,” Huang Yao said, casting a glance toward the far end of the red carpet. “Back when Luo Ding wasn’t around, Su Shengbai treated us like the plague. Last time I hosted another awards show, I accidentally mentioned Luo Ding, and he immediately changed the subject. Now that Luo Ding’s famous, he’s coming out of the woodwork. Such thick skin.”
“Well, he’s still got some talent. He’s in movies now,” Ji Xing shrugged.
“You’re saying you don’t follow gossip?” Huang Yao scoffed. “He’s been kept afloat by someone powerful. But that person passed away, and he hasn’t had any new projects since. Now he’s desperate, clinging to anyone who can help.”
“So, he’s planning to use Luo Ding to stir up buzz?” Ji Xing mused. “Former singing duo reunited years later… yeah, that headline would grab attention.”
With everything ready, the first car arrived at the red carpet. They stopped chatting, mics in hand, preparing for the arrival of the first guest.
Luo Ding’s spot was later in the lineup, sandwiched between Pan Yiming and Zhang Wenwei, which was the organizers’ way of acknowledging his status. Before Luo Ding’s EP blew up, Zhang Wenwei had reigned as the country’s top-selling male artist, sharing the throne with Pan Yiming, the queen of the charts. Luckily, Luo Ding’s release didn’t qualify for the official “Top-Selling King” title, or the three of them together might have made for an awkward encounter.
Wu Fangyuan hurried out of the car and opened the door. As soon as Luo Ding stepped onto the red carpet, he straightened up, and his smile became flawless.
Flashbulbs went off in waves, and the sound of camera shutters filled the air. The first fan to recognize him screamed, followed by a second, and then a third. Soon, the entire crowd erupted in cheers.
No guest so far had received such a loud reception, and even the earlier arrivals couldn’t help but turn to see what was happening.
Luo Ding waved to the fans, slowing his pace to ensure that every camera captured his image. As he approached, a voice called out to him from the front.
Pan Yiming, holding her dress, walked over with a playful smile. “Look at you, little king! You’re even later than me!”
Luo Ding smiled politely, letting her tease him. Pan Yiming casually slipped her arm through his, and the camera shutters clicked even faster.
Oddly, the fan area that had been cheering just moments ago fell quieter. Puzzled, Luo Ding glanced toward the crowd, only to find many fans covering their faces in mock anguish.
Suddenly, a voice rang out—
“DUAN—XIUBO—IS—CRYING—IN—THE—BATHROOM—”
Though it was drowned out by the sound of the shutters, the shrill shout of the girl was still audible enough to catch everyone’s attention.
Pan Yiming couldn’t hold back her laughter and quickly covered her mouth. She let go of Luo Ding’s arm, grinning as she playfully surrendered to the fans.
“Pan—Yiming—you’re—so—beautiful!” the crowd immediately switched sides, showering her with compliments.
Pan Yiming laughed so hard she nearly lost her composure, struggling to maintain her elegant demeanor. Lips barely moving, she said to Luo Ding under her breath, “I don’t want your fans poisoning me in the middle of the night. You’re Duan Xiubo’s guy now. Haha, just kidding.”
“…”
Luo Ding was left speechless, momentarily stunned. After a beat, he asked quietly, “…Pan-jie, you…”
“How would I know?” Pan Yiming flipped her carefully styled curls, all charm and grace. “Ask anyone here. Who doesn’t know? Your quirky fanbase.”
Still grappling with how the public had so easily accepted this idea, Luo Ding couldn’t help but notice the media reporters suppressing their laughter and the knowing glances from the other guests. He coughed, feeling awkward.
That’s when he heard Su Shengbai’s voice.
At first, Luo Ding didn’t catch it, but when Su Shengbai called his name a second time, he turned and saw him approaching in a crisp white suit, looking dashing as ever.
Su Shengbai’s eyes held a mix of emotions, though his smile masked any deeper feelings. Attending an unrelated music award show was awkward enough, but at least he had a young female singer from his company as his date, offering him some cover. The cheers from Luo Ding’s fans were deafening through the car door, and for the first time, Su Shengbai truly realized a harsh truth: Luo Ding was now undeniably famous.
Famous in a way that was both swift and unstoppable. In just a few short months, the once-obscure figure had risen to a level where even Su Shengbai needed to attach himself to him for attention.
Luo Ding’s new songs were everywhere. Though Su Shengbai hadn’t purchased the EP, he had heard it. It was excellent—whether in terms of vocals, lyrics, or production quality, it was leagues ahead of the work they had produced together as a duo.
This was fate, Su Shengbai told himself.
Luo Ding’s good fortune had arrived, and no matter how much he resented it, he had to admit it. Judging by the trajectory of Luo Ding’s career, this was no fleeting moment of fame.
Why hadn’t he been blessed with such luck? First-class composers, first-class lyricists, first-class post-production teams, first-class film resources… even Duan Xiubo had lowered his status to star in Luo Ding’s music video. Now, on the red carpet, not long after his arrival, Pan Yiming had already linked arms with him.
But Luo Ding liked him. As long as he played his cards right, Luo Ding’s resources could become his own.
With these thoughts, Su Shengbai was able to comfort himself a little.
Luo Ding’s eyes were downcast as he asked, “Why are you here?”
Su Shengbai smiled bitterly. As if he wanted to be here? Circumstances had left him no choice. Luo Ding’s fanbase had become incredibly influential, constantly discussing the duo’s split online. Luo Ding, having been abroad for over a month, had no idea what was happening, but Su Shengbai had tasted the bitter consequences firsthand.
If Luo Ding’s fans had been more aggressive, attacking his official social media with insults, it would have been easier to deal with. He could take the moral high ground and clear his name. But no, his fans were too rational. They never launched direct attacks, choosing instead to have calm discussions in various online communities. These discussions gained traction, garnering more attention, and soon the forums were flooded with threads dissecting Su Shengbai’s past. Some people had even started to dig into his close relationship with Xu Zhen, which had only increased Xu Zhen’s frustration with him. Their interactions, both on and off set, had become more strained, with conversations growing shorter and more curt.
Su Shengbai was genuinely afraid Xu Zhen would cut him off entirely. He couldn’t afford to burn that bridge, not with the film’s release still pending. He needed to fix this situation, and fast. The only way to do that was to address the source of the problem.
With Luo Ding expected to remain abroad for filming until the end of the year, this awards show might be Su Shengbai’s last chance to see him.
So here he was, swallowing his pride.
“I’m here to accompany a newcomer from the company,” Su Shengbai gestured toward the young female singer ahead of them, who was awkwardly posing for photos, garnering only a few scattered flashes from the cameras.
As they approached the signature wall, they paused to sign their names and pose for photos.
Huang Yao and Ji Xing, having clearly rehearsed this moment, didn’t let them leave right away. They deliberately called the two back for a brief interview.
Luo Ding and Su Shengbai were placed side by side.
Huang Yao eyed Luo Ding, feeling a bit lightheaded. The young man who had once left such a faint impression on her had transformed into someone extraordinary. Now, standing before her, Luo Ding radiated an aura so strong that, had she not been tasked with this interview, she might have hesitated to approach him.
“I remember the two of you used to be a duo, right? Now, after so many years apart, what’s it like to reunite here?” Huang Yao extended the microphone toward Luo Ding but hesitated, ultimately handing it to Su Shengbai first.
Su Shengbai smiled warmly. “Of course, I’m happy. When Ah Ding and I first came here, we were just rookies. Now, so much has changed. It’s hard not to feel emotional, right, Ah Ding?”
Luo Ding glanced briefly at the two hosts before offering a slight smile. “Sister Huang and Brother Ji were always so kind to me. It’s nice to see you both again.”
Huang Yao and Ji Xing were taken aback, not expecting Luo Ding to address them so familiarly. Their hearts softened instantly.
Who wouldn’t appreciate being shown respect? Watching a once-shy newcomer grow into someone who now outshone them could leave a bitter taste, but being greeted with such warmth melted away any lingering resentment.
Compared to Su Shengbai’s attempt to steer the conversation toward a harmonious reunion of the former duo, Luo Ding’s response was far more charming, winning over the interviewers.
Huang Yao felt a pang of guilt, and the more probing questions she had planned to ask suddenly felt inappropriate. It was Ji Xing who, after a brief hesitation, softened the line of questioning. “So, after seeing each other again, do you still feel as familiar as before?”
Su Shengbai’s smile remained gentle. “Of course. Ah Ding will always be my good brother.”
Luo Ding turned his head slightly, looking silently at Su Shengbai while keeping an eye on the hosts’ reactions. Something felt off.
He didn’t rush to respond, maintaining his polite smile. “Yes.”
“Recently…” Huang Yao’s voice grew strained as she forced herself to ask, her eyes filled with silent apology as she glanced at Luo Ding. “…there have been some rumors online about the split of your duo. Some of these comments have been quite unfavorable toward Su Shengbai. How do the two of you feel about that?”
Su Shengbai frowned slightly. “I tend to just laugh those things off. After all these years, attacks on me are nothing new. I trust that time will prove my innocence. And besides, Ah Ding and I have always had a great relationship. We won’t let these rumors affect us. Wise people don’t believe gossip.”
Ji Xing extended the microphone toward Luo Ding, keeping a cautious distance as if afraid to get too close.
Luo Ding didn’t bother hiding his complicated emotions as he gazed at Su Shengbai.
So, that’s what this was all about.
He hadn’t expected it to be like this. Now, he found himself at a loss for how to respond. Most people in the industry would publicly maintain a facade of harmony to avoid burning bridges. But doing so would mean slapping the fans who had supported him in the face. Was Su Shengbai expecting him to sacrifice himself for Su Shengbai’s reputation?
Caught off guard, Luo Ding hadn’t been given any prior warning. His words would soon be set in stone, and there would be no taking them back. Su Shengbai must have banked on the original Luo Ding’s feelings for him, knowing he wouldn’t tear him down in public.
Su Shengbai clenched his fists, waiting for Luo Ding to speak.
Luo Ding had liked him so much before. Surely he would step up and defend him now. Even though Luo Ding had changed, Su Shengbai trusted that Luo Ding’s basic character remained the same. Luo Ding wasn’t malicious. He was smart enough to understand that maintaining a positive public image was important for both of them.
But Su Shengbai had overlooked one key factor: external influence.
As Luo Ding opened his mouth to respond, Gu Yaxing stormed onto the stage, his face a mask of barely contained anger. Ignoring Ji Xing’s outstretched microphone, he walked straight to Luo Ding, offering a quick, apologetic smile to Pan Yiming before stepping up to the mic himself. “Whatever happened with the duo in the past is ancient history. Su Shengbai has his own career now, and Luo Ding has risen from the ashes. Let’s hope everyone does well moving forward. After all, they did work together for quite a long time. Isn’t that right, Su Shengbai?”
Su Shengbai’s knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists tighter, the smile on his face growing more forced by the second.
“…Right.” His voice trembled as he spoke into the mic. “Let’s hope everyone does well.”
Gu Yaxing ushered Luo Ding off the stage, but not before Luo Ding cast one final glance at Su Shengbai.
Su Shengbai gritted his teeth, seething with hatred.
Gu Yaxing! Again! Every time, it’s him! He’s probably behind those online attacks too!
How could he be such a snake?!
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