Author Archives: sandy

Mu Xing looked at the flood of fast-scrolling comments, all shouting “buy buy buy,” and coughed lightly.
“I was actually just joking.”

[No no no, looking at your face, I find it very convincing.]
[I know you’re joking, but for Xingxing’s first time putting so much effort into selling something, I have to support it.]
[Just came back from searching—eating persimmons really does have a whitening effect.]
[You’re too honest. Good thing this isn’t a paid promotion, otherwise a naïve streamer like you would really lose money.]
[So, where’s the link? The link?]

Mu Xing said, “The first batch of persimmons will be ripe in about half a month. Since the livestream was a last-minute idea, I’m not very experienced. I’ll post the shop link when I get back later—the store is still being set up, so don’t worry.”

He glanced at the time. “It’s getting late. I need to head down the mountain to make lunch. See you all later.”

[Keep streaming! We can watch you cook!]
[And we want to see what Xingxing’s home looks like!]

Mu Xing looked puzzled. “What’s there to see about cooking? Haven’t you ever seen someone cook before? If you want to learn, there are plenty of professional cooking streamers on Yunduo Video. And my home’s nothing special, just an ordinary house.”

[We haven’t, we haven’t—show us, Xingxing!]
[Cooking itself isn’t fun to watch, but watching you cook would be very entertaining.]
[Wait, the streamer actually cooks for himself? A domestic man—my weakness.]
[They’re not being honest, but I am. I’ll be straightforward: I’m just greedy for your looks and your body. I’d watch you do anything.]

Mu Xing: “…”

Playfully, he snorted. “Don’t be greedy. No matter how greedy you are, I’m still a man you can’t have.”

[???]
[Did you hear that?]
[He’s abusing his fans! Unfollowing.]

Mu Xing said, “Alright, that’s it for today. I’ll be back tomorrow at nine in the morning for another stream. Bye.”

He waved at the camera and closed the stream.

Under the nervous gaze of the courier-slash-cameraman, he easily jumped down from the tree branch.

The courier, Liu Xue, had returned to Huaxin Town—where Xiaoxi Village is located—after graduating from university without finding a suitable job, and had opened a small courier station there.

Courier stations in small towns are usually privately contracted. Parcels with free shipping go to the county; he drives there to collect those bound for Huaxin Town and brings them back, charging a one-yuan handling fee for each.

Since he only needed to drive to fetch the parcels and his family helped with sorting and management, he had time to follow Mu Xing to film the livestream.

“Remember to find me when you ship the goods. I’ll give you a discount,” Liu Xue said, not forgetting to drum up business.

Mu Xing picked up his straw hat from the ground, dusted it off, put it on, and headed down the mountain. “Even if you didn’t say so, I’d still come to you.”

Following behind with the camera, Liu Xue handed Mu Xing his phone screen, speaking excitedly: “You’ve got over 400,000 followers!”

And the number was still climbing fast!

Mu Xing was much calmer. Plucking a blade of grass to chew on, he walked lightly. “As long as the persimmons sell out, that’s enough.”

Back home, Mu Xing went to find Old Zhang.

Xiaoxi Village only had a handful of households and had been merged with a neighboring village years ago, at least in name.

But with a mountain between them, matters in Xiaoxi were always handled internally, with Old Zhang—the eldest in the village—acting much like a village chief.

Mu Xing told him about selling persimmons online.

Since online sales meant the money wouldn’t arrive immediately, Mu Xing needed to get everyone’s consent.

Old Zhang was overjoyed. “Of course we’re willing! As long as we can sell them, even at a lower price, it’s fine. I’ll go inform everyone.”

If the fruit rotted on the trees, they wouldn’t just lose the money—they’d have to watch a whole year’s effort go to waste.

After securing the villagers’ approval, Mu Xing went home to set up the store.

The online shop already existed, called Xiaoxi Mountain Specialties, and Mu Xing didn’t plan to change the name.

He added the new product and set the price.

He had no idea that while he was busy with this, his photos and some livestream clips were blowing up online.

#ThatGodlyFaceIsBack shot straight to the top of the trending list within an hour of his stream.

Meanwhile, #MuXingLivestreamSellingGoods rocketed into the top ten.

His joining Yunduo Video had already drawn attention, but when viewers saw his current state, they couldn’t stop themselves—

Screenshot. Screenshot. Screenshot!

And of course, such beauty had to be shared.

The trending topic was soon filled with today’s freshest images.

His fan forum, silent for over half a year, was suddenly flooded with tens of thousands of new posts.

[Old fan since two years ago crying—this is the boy who stole my heart at first sight!]
[WTF, did Mu Xing eat some kind of magical elixir these past six months? Is this face even real?]
[I’ve sinned. I actually joined my roommate in trashing such a gorgeous boy.]
[From these screenshots, he’s bare-faced, right? How is he better looking than before?]
[Fan reporting in—I always said his old company’s styling was the problem. That cookie-cutter idol makeup erased all his uniqueness. This clean, fresh, natural look suits him best.]

[All I want is to get his skincare routine—naturally fair skin is too enviable.]
[With a face like this selling persimmons, I feel like the persimmons instantly became luxury goods.]

Countless newly converted fans, after screaming in excitement, tried to follow Mu Xing on Weibo, only to find his old account had been abandoned, and no new account could be found.

So, the only place they could follow him now was his freshly opened livestream account.

Downloads of Yunduo Video skyrocketed, and along with them, Mu Xing’s follower count soared as well.

Seeing this surge in popularity, Yunduo Video’s team quickly contacted Mu Xing, offering extremely generous terms to sign him as an exclusive streamer.

Mu Xing refused without hesitation: “I’ve looked into these contracts—they have fixed streaming hour requirements. My intention is only to use the platform to sell the unsold goods. I don’t want to tie myself down.”

Yunduo Video could only feel it was a pity.

And someone else who felt it was a pity—naturally—was Li Xin.

God knows how he felt looking at the trending list that day.

The MRC group he had pinned so many hopes on now couldn’t make it onto the hot search unless he paid for it himself. On their own, they had no chance.

Especially since his rival in the company—another manager—called him after seeing the trending topics, mocking him, saying he had held onto a treasure without knowing it, wasting two whole years, only for that “treasure” to shoot back to popularity the moment he left Zhongxing Entertainment.

Li Xin ground his teeth in frustration—it was unbearable!

---

The next day, 9 a.m. sharp.

Mu Xing started his livestream.

Facing the camera, he greeted: “Hey everyone, I’m Mu Xing. Joining me today are two uncles from Xiaoxi Village—they’ll be going with me to the back mountain to give everyone a close-up look at our persimmons.”

[Whoa, 110,000 viewers already? And the stream just started?]
[Must be bought numbers, right?]
[1.1 million followers now? Did this streamer just break Yunduo Video’s fastest-to-a-million-fans record? Why do I feel oddly proud?]
[Checking in—another day of being obsessed with Xingxing’s beauty.]
[Bringing two uncles along? I believe you really do want to sell these persimmons.]
[That skin tone contrast—next to the two uncles, Xingxing really does look like a piece of white jade.]
[What kind of divine filter is this? Three people in the same frame, and only one gets brightened? (dog head)]
[The comment above is peak sarcasm.]

---

The two uncles also greeted the camera a bit shyly, and the three of them began heading toward the back mountain.

“Today, the main thing is to pick a few persimmons from the tree that are a bit riper, so I can taste them in advance for you. I can guarantee that all the persimmons from Xiaoxi Village are carefully selected top-quality fruit.”

The path to the back mountain was narrow, so they walked in a line—Mu Xing in front, the cameraman in the back filming.

Suddenly, Mu Xing stopped in his tracks.

The next moment, a fierce gust of wind blew from the left, accompanied by a flurry of panicked cries:

“Gah!”
“Gah gah gah!”

❣╰(⸝⸝⸝꒳⸝⸝⸝)╯❣

Later, many fans kept that close-up of the little sparrow pecking Mu Xing’s cheek as their eternal “white moonlight” in their hearts.

It was also the moment that pulled a lot of people into the fandom.

Inside Li Xin’s office—

The middle-aged man’s face was stern. A cigarette was pinched between his fingers, burned almost down to the filter, yet he paid no mind.

His eyes were fixed on the computer screen in front of him, shock filling his chest.

This was Mu Xing?

In Li Xin’s mind, when Mu Xing announced his exit from the entertainment industry, he had been in a sorry state—a discarded failure the company had given up on.

Plenty of glamorous, polished celebrities, once they quit, quickly lost their edge—style gone, figures out of shape, looks fading fast.

The Mu Xing on screen wasn’t dressed as fashionably as before; the clothes he wore were obviously affordable brands you could see anywhere on the street. As for styling—he clearly wasn’t even wearing makeup.

But the strange thing was, anyone could see he looked better now than when he was a celebrity.

Better even than two years ago, when he first appeared in the public eye.

What the hell!

Was this so-called Xiaoxi Village some kind of magical land that could raise people like this?

Shock was quickly followed by regret.

Li Xin felt real pain in his chest—if Mu Xing had looked like this half a year ago, there’s no way he would have let him go so easily.

He should have stuck to his original belief: with a face like this, who cares if you can’t do anything? Just standing on stage would make everyone’s eyes stick to you!

While Li Xin was drowning in regret, others were feeling sour too—namely, the other three members of MRC.

When Mu Xing left, they had felt relieved and pleased—the burden was gone, and no one could hold them back from “conquering the stars and the sea.”

No more mistakes on stage dragging them into ridicule.

No more netizens saying, “That’s the group with that useless Mu Xing in it.”

They could finally break free from Mu Xing’s shadow and prove their strength on their own!

But reality is always harsher than imagination.

For two years, bolstered by Mu Xing’s contrast effect and the paid water armies they’d hired, they had convinced not only fans but themselves that they were among the top domestic idol groups.

The truth? They were utterly average in the vast sea of boy bands.

After just two gigs, bystanders began questioning their skills.

Even worse, many of Mu Xing’s haters, once he left the group, quickly unfollowed them—too disinterested to even bother criticizing.

Things weren’t going as smoothly as they’d imagined. In fact, they were even less popular than before.

This left them bewildered.

Then news broke online that Mu Xing had joined a livestream platform.

Without discussing it, all three secretly downloaded the Yun Duo Video app, curious to see what he was like now.

He must be down and out, right? Maybe regretting everything, maybe desperate to make money through livestreaming—surely miserable. They opened the stream with that smug sense of superiority.

They weren’t doing well themselves, so they craved seeing him doing worse to feel better.

But once they entered the stream and saw the vibrant, glowing Mu Xing on camera, they fell silent.

They had lived under the same roof with him for two years.

Compared to fans who only saw the heavily made-up, stage-ready Mu Xing, they knew his real offstage self best.

And that was why they couldn’t, in good conscience, say he looked miserable or depressed now.

He was doing well—better than when he was a star, and happier too.

That kind of state can’t be faked. If he’d had that kind of acting skill back then, he wouldn’t have been scolded so badly those two years.

—

Mu Xing didn’t know his former agent and teammates were secretly watching his stream.

Even if he had, he wouldn’t have cared—livestreams are meant to be watched, after all.

After taking his viewers on a virtual stroll through the mountains, he stopped at a small fork in the road.

“Now, I’m going to show you the treasure of our Xiaoxi Village.”

[Treasure? What treasure?]
[What? Isn’t Xiaoxi Village’s greatest treasure right in front of us? What could be more precious than Xingxing?]
[Bro above, you just explained why I’ve been single for twenty years.]
[I was just called over by my roommate to see a handsome guy. Don’t know much about the entertainment scene, but I heard this guy used to be a star who got scolded into quitting? Doesn’t match the fangirls I’ve met—how could they bear to curse someone like this?]

The chat was much calmer now—after an hour of streaming, most of the hired trolls had left, and Yun Duo’s promotions had brought in real casual viewers.

Mu Xing stepped over some scattered wild grass, pointing ahead. “Everyone, look.”

The cameraman adjusted the lens toward where he was pointing.

[Wow!]
[What is that? Oranges?]
[??? To the one who said oranges—common sense check? Those are clearly persimmons!]

[So pretty, I feel like you could take an art photoshoot here.]

Row after row of ten-meter-tall persimmon trees stood in neat lines, their branches heavy with golden-yellow fruit.

Unlike the wild, overgrown flowers and grass up in the hills, this place was clearly well cared for—the ground was spotless, not a single weed in sight.

“This is the treasure of our Xiaoxi Village,” Mu Xing said, pointing at the vast persimmon grove.

With that, he jogged to the nearest tree, and before viewers could even process what was happening, he used the momentum from his run to leap up and climb the tree in just a few swift moves!

[????]
[Excuse me, I just looked down to take a sip of water—how is he suddenly in the tree?]
[I didn’t look away and I still don’t know how he got up there.]
[Damn, with that speed, I think I know why he gets along so well with monkeys.]
[Hahaha found the reason for befriending monkeys.]
[That scared me—these branches must be two or three meters up. Xingxing, be careful! This is dangerous.]

Even the cameraman was startled, the livestream screen shaking twice.

Mu Xing must have seen his expression, because he grinned, waved his hand, and said smugly, “Don’t worry, don’t worry. And viewers—no need to worry either. I’ve been climbing trees since I was a kid, and I’m strong with a steady grip. I won’t fall. But I suggest you don’t try this yourselves.”

[You say that like I could even manage it (dog head).]

“Alright, now let’s get to the main point of today’s livestream.” Mu Xing cleared his throat.

The cameraman zoomed in for a close-up of his face.

Onscreen, Mu Xing switched to an extremely serious expression, opened his mouth, and began reciting with dramatic cadence:

“Our Xiaoxi Village has been planting persimmons for more than sixty years. These trees have weathered decades of wind and rain. Xiaoxi Village persimmons are big, thin-skinned, with soft, glutinous flesh, beautiful color, sweet but not cloying…”

[??? Is this… a sales pitch?]
[Wow, I just realized—after watching this long—that he’s actually a seller streamer.]
[That posture like he’s reading a speech—had me laughing.]
[That’s a long spiel, must have taken some work to memorize.]
[Hahaha I can’t hold it anymore—my impression of Mu Xing was that he was stiff, quiet, and a bit petty, with awful stage skills. Turns out he’s actually hilarious.]

Yes—Mu Xing had memorized a script. He spoke at length, finally concluding: “I’ve been eating Xiaoxi Village persimmons since I was a kid—they’re really sweet, really delicious!”

Afraid the audience wouldn’t believe him, he emphasized again: “They’re really good! If I’m lying, I’m a puppy!”

[I don’t believe you.]
[Me neither.]
[Me neither.]

The comments filled with disbelief.

Then they watched Mu Xing pull a phone out of his pocket, glance down at it, then quickly look up again, looking a little anxious: “Don’t doubt me, I’m telling the truth!”

[He didn’t touch his phone once in the past hour of streaming—guess he didn’t bring it. But the moment it’s time to sell persimmons, he whips it out. Sales streamer confirmed.]
[I’m out—thought it was a nature stream, turns out it’s just selling stuff. Boring.]
[Xingxing’s panicked expression is adorable. I’m honest—I was just joking earlier when I said I didn’t believe you.]

[User “Little Sparrow Who Kissed Xingxing” just dropped a meteor shower in the stream]
[Little Sparrow Who Kissed Xingxing: I believe you, I believe you. Babe, hurry up and drop the link!]

Link?

Mu Xing blinked. “A purchase link? I forgot to make one.”

[??? First time I’ve seen a seller streamer without a link.]
[Hahaha sales fail.]
[Man, your sponsor’s gonna dock your pay for this.]

“What docking pay? What sponsor?” Mu Xing asked, puzzled.

He hadn’t watched many livestreams, just crammed for two days. It took him a moment to realize what the viewers meant.

“You’ve got it wrong,” Mu Xing explained. “I’m not sponsored to sell anything. These persimmon trees all belong to the villagers here in Xiaoxi Village.”

“The persimmons will be fully ripe soon, but this year, the regular buyer backed out. If they can’t sell, they’ll just rot, and the villagers will have worked for nothing all year. I wanted to see if livestreaming could help sell some online.”

Only then did it click for him: “So you thought I was paid to say all that just now?”

He pursed his lips, then earnestly explained, “I didn’t take a penny. Every word I just said came from the heart. I’ve been eating Xiaoxi Village persimmons since I was little—they really taste great.”

He paused, then brightened with sudden inspiration, pointing at himself:

“I think I saw someone compliment my fair skin earlier? Persimmons can help with whitening and fading spots. I’ve never tanned in my life—maybe it’s because I’ve eaten Xiaoxi Village persimmons since I was a kid?”

[!!!]
[I know you’re talking nonsense, but I believe you.]
[I’ll buy! Is that good enough?]

❣╰(⸝⸝⸝꒳⸝⸝⸝)╯❣

The viewers: ???

[No, no, no, I do think this has everything to do with today’s stream! I just want to look at your face!]

But the audience’s shouts didn’t affect Mu Xing.

He leaned closer, seemed to take something from the cameraman’s hand, and all the viewers saw was a full-screen, flawless close-up of his face—gone in a flash.

[Holy crap, I heard Yunduo was onboarding some super-handsome celebrity streamer today. Before I came in, I thought, “How handsome can he be?” Then I clicked… yeah, he’s that handsome.]

[I came in ready to roast him, but now that I see Mu Xing, I can’t really bring myself to… And I’m wondering—was he always this good-looking?]

[+1 to wondering. How stone-hearted must I have been before, to call someone with that face a useless waste?]

[Wuwuwu, close-up his skin looks so soft, I want to pinch it.]

[My bad. I used to laugh at you for using heavy beauty filters. Now I’m thinking—not only filters—you must’ve had plastic surgery in the last six months, right?]

[Good things should be shared—don’t hog such a great plastic surgeon all to yourself.]

[Tsk, if you knew such a good doctor, why didn’t you do it earlier? If you’d looked like this a year ago, you wouldn’t have so many haters.]

[Some people are going too far—do you think our Xingxing doesn’t have fans? Go watch his videos from two years ago—his face is exactly the same, okay?]

[As a fan, I’ll admit—not exactly the same. Xingxing’s clearly grown up a bit, and gotten even better-looking, hehe, bet that stings for the haters.]

…

What Mu Xing had taken from the cameraman was a straw hat. The cameraman was a guy from the town’s delivery station, “borrowed” temporarily. When Mu Xing went to pick up his filming equipment, he’d casually asked if there was anyone in town who knew how to handle a camera. The young delivery guy had volunteered, saying he was free to help, and so Mu Xing hired him.

Mu Xing glanced at the viewer count—it had already passed 400,000 in just a short while, and was still climbing fast.

Looking at the comments, he saw an argument breaking out again.

Seeing people spreading rumors that he’d had surgery, he couldn’t help rebutting: “I can accept some viewers criticizing my lack of skill—because my stage performances were weak before. But accusing me of plastic surgery is too much. I may not think I’m especially good-looking myself, but I can say without a problem that I’ve been handsome since I was a kid.”

[…]
[…]
[…]

[Joke of the day: “X Cloud thinks money isn’t important.”]
[Joke of the day: “Mu Xing thinks he’s not his own type.”]
[Wow, so you’re the Year’s #1 Humblebrag Master.]

[Just came in from the launch screen—what kind of stream is this? Damn, the host is really handsome!]

Mu Xing happened to see that one and quickly responded: “Today’s livestream is to show you my hometown, and share the mountain scenery with everyone.”

As he spoke, he started walking forward, explaining: “This road leads up the mountain. For the past half-year living here, I’ve walked into the mountains every morning. It’s beautiful here, and the air is great.”

The comments were puzzled:

[So he’s actually streaming his hometown?]
[I’m confused—I thought the host would be showing off his looks, doing a talent performance, and maybe slipping in a casual sob story. You’re really not following the script? (doge)]

[Replying to the one upstairs—I suspect you’re shading that certain ‘barefaced’ female celeb from a few days ago (doge).]

But slowly, the chat quieted down.

The weather was perfect, sunlight poured down from the sky, filtering through layers of dense forest, creating dreamlike patterns of light and shadow.

The ground was already covered in a golden layer of fallen leaves that crunched underfoot. Wild purple flowers dotted the messy roadside grass, and somewhere in the distance, birds called in irregular patterns.

Time seemed still and beautiful in that moment.

[This is gorgeous.]
[This really hits me. I’m from the mountains too, but I’ve been away for over a decade. As a kid I’d run up the mountains every day and thought everything was fun and beautiful. Now, when I go back every few years, it’s always by car—rush in, rush out. I haven’t walked up like this in so long.]

Just then, Mu Xing, who was ahead, stopped. “There’s an orange tree here—let’s pick one and try it.”

He plucked an orange, peeled it to reveal pale yellow flesh, and popped a segment into his mouth. His features immediately scrunched up. “Ah, not ripe—way too sour, way too sour.”

[Hahaha, that moment was so fast, but I still managed to screenshot six or seven frames—did I do good, sisters?]
[Hhhh, new reaction pics acquired.]
[To those saying he had surgery—show me a plastic surgery job where the face can scrunch up like that.]
[Xingxing looks so happy—like genuinely relaxed and joyful from the inside out. I never saw him like this back in MRC.]
[Yes, yes! I’d been wondering why he seemed so different lately, but looking closely, his features haven’t changed. I finally get it—it’s his aura, his energy. Totally different.]

Just then, something round suddenly fell from above and landed on Mu Xing’s shoulder, making him yelp instinctively.

The camera tilted up, but only caught the shaking treetop.

[What was that?]

Mu Xing looked down—it was another orange, but with yellow skin and noticeably bigger than the one in his hand.

He crouched down and picked it up.

[An orange falling from the sky? What kind of good luck is this?]

Mu Xing saw the cameraman looking a little nervous and about to come over, so he shook his head lightly. “I know who it is.”

Meeting the cameraman’s puzzled gaze, Mu Xing said mysteriously to the camera, “You’re in luck today—want to see a new friend I met after coming back home?”

He motioned for the cameraman to step back, farther away.

The cameraman did as told. The camera Mu Xing bought was high-resolution, so even twenty meters away, the picture stayed perfectly clear.

[Who? Some other celebrity cameo?]
[Don’t think I’ve heard of Mu Xing being close to any celebs. Maybe a relative?]
[I call dibs on this smug little smile of Xingxing’s—it’s too cute!]

The chat was clearly interested in this “new friend” Mu Xing mentioned, guessing wildly who it might be.

On screen, Mu Xing casually sat cross-legged, tilted his head up, and waved toward where the tree branches had just shaken.

[??? What, someone’s up in the tree?]
[That tree’s like ten meters tall—that’s dangerous.]

Suddenly, the camera fixed on a point among the dense leaves. A dark shape slowly emerged.

The first thing to appear was a furry hand, and then—a furry face.

[????]
[???]
[Holy crap!!]

A half-human-tall monkey cautiously poked its head out from the branches. Seeing Mu Xing smiling at it, it relaxed, swung down, and in a few quick hops landed beside him. It sat down politely on its haunches.

The camera zoomed in for a close-up of man and monkey. Mu Xing peeled an orange, popped a piece into his mouth, and squinted with a smile. “So sweet.”

He offered the other half to the monkey. “You have some too.”

The monkey didn’t take it. It just looked at Mu Xing, its expression seeming happy, and chattered twice while waving its hands. Then it suddenly turned and called loudly up into the tree.

Soon, thunk thunk thunk, several big oranges were tossed down from above, followed by two more monkeys—one big, one small.

The two monkeys sat obediently beside Mu Xing, just like the first one. The smaller one nimbly peeled an orange for itself.

Mu Xing shook hands with each of them in turn and thanked them.

Then he turned to the camera: “These are my friends, wild monkeys from the mountain. The one on the left is Dahei, her husband is Erhei, and this is their son, Xiaohei.”

The moment he said that, the screen filled with question marks.

[Oh my gosh, these monkeys are adorable—and smart!]
[Dahei? Erhei? Xiaohei? That’s… quite the casual naming method.]
[Wait, so earlier when you ate that sour orange, they saw it and went to find you sweeter ones? That’s so thoughtful!]

[Heh, how much did the host pay for these trained monkeys? You must’ve prepared for this for a long time—feels so staged.]
[Yeah, staged +1. Do you realize what gave it away? Wild monkeys on a mountain wouldn’t be this friendly with humans.]
[??? Haters, shut up. I think this footage is great. Staged or not, I’m enjoying it.]

[Think, people—this is a live stream. Even humans can slip up during a livestream, and you think monkeys could be trained this well? Plus, judging by Dahei’s family’s attitude toward the host, it’s obvious they’re genuinely close to him.]

Mu Xing finished the orange and stood up.

The three monkeys also stood and trailed after him.

The cameraman was still marveling at the scene, and when he stepped forward to follow, the monkeys all turned sharply toward the sound, chattered warily, and in a flash Dahei grabbed Xiaohei and the whole family vanished into the dense forest.

Mu Xing explained, “They’re a bit shy—if they see anyone else near me, they won’t come out.”

[So these monkeys aren’t just tame—they’re only friendly with the host?]
[These monkeys have better acting than some idols—they even remember to stick to their ‘wild monkey’ persona. (doge)]

Without looking at the chat, Mu Xing said, “Let’s keep going.”

They had barely walked a few steps when something small landed on his shoulder.

This time it wasn’t an orange—it was alive. A little sparrow.

The sparrow hopped happily along his shoulder.

The cameraman, intrigued, moved closer, catching a perfect close-up of the sparrow gently pecking Mu Xing’s cheek.

In the shot, Mu Xing seemed to find it ticklish, tilting his head and laughing.

The screen went quiet for a split second—then exploded.

[That smile… I’m done for.]
[Holy crap, I don’t even know if I’m jealous of the sparrow or of Xingxing…]
[Obviously the sparrow! At this moment I’d trade places in a heartbeat! I want to kiss that face too!]
[This close-up is unreal—you can see every feather on the sparrow, but not a single pore on Mu Xing’s face. He’s so white it’s like he’s glowing!]
[To the ones saying it’s a beauty filter—what kind of divine filter is this?]

❣╰(⸝⸝⸝꒳⸝⸝⸝)╯❣

Mu Xing quickly learned the whole story.

Xiaoxi Village was nestled against the mountains, and every household had mountain land. In the past, before the village became so desolate, everyone had made a living by growing fruit trees.

Fruit farmers worked hard all year long, relying on the harvest season to earn money.

But in recent years, it had become increasingly difficult. Xiaoxi Village was remote, with no sales channels. Fruits like persimmons grew in every household here, and they couldn’t fetch a good price even in the town or the county.

Boss Xu had been an old customer of Xiaoxi Village, buying nearly half of the village’s annual production each year. The rest would be carried to town or the county when ripe, selling whatever could be sold. The remainder would be dried and made into persimmon cakes to sell later.

Even so, a whole mountain of fruit trees could barely make any money in a year.

On top of that, the work was exhausting—fertilizing, pest control, worrying about diseases… all toil, no profit. So most of the younger generation had left to work elsewhere.

Uncle Fang said, “If Boss Xu doesn’t want our persimmons, they’ll just rot on the trees.”

He sighed. “Even if we sell them for cheaper, it’s still better than selling nothing and not getting back a cent.”

It was already September, and Mu Xing had seen that the persimmon trees in the back mountain were heavy with fruit.

He fell silent. He knew the village’s situation well. Uncle Fang’s family was doing relatively okay, but families like Old Zhang’s and Xiao Bin’s really counted on this money.

He suggested, “If we can’t find a buyer, why not try selling online? I’ve seen lots of farmers selling on Taobao.”

Uncle Fang sighed. “You think we haven’t thought of that? Two years ago, your cousin Zhilan even opened an online shop, but nothing sold.”

For a completely unknown shop with no customer base, there was almost no exposure—unless they joined platform events or paid for advertising spots.

But who in Xiaoxi Village had thousands, let alone tens of thousands, of yuan to spend on that?

It was simply impossible.

Mu Xing was speechless. He’d eaten the village’s persimmons countless times—they were big, sweet, and had excellent flavor. He’d thought that something so delicious would sell itself, but he hadn’t considered that no matter how good it was, customers wouldn’t buy it if they didn’t know about it.

But Uncle Fang’s words gave him an idea.

No exposure, no traffic—that was the village’s biggest problem.

But Mu Xing wasn’t afraid.

He had traffic. Even though most of it came from haters, hate-fame was still fame.

He hurriedly said goodbye to Uncle Fang, went home, and began searching for information.

He knew perfectly well how hot livestream selling was these days—so much so that even many celebrities were now making guest appearances in major livestream rooms to make money.

If only I’d kept my Weibo account, Mu Xing thought. If I’d known, I could’ve just quit the industry without deleting it.

Then he wouldn’t have to worry about drawing traffic.

If he’d had more time, he could have slowly figured out ways to draw an audience. But it was already September—at most a month before the persimmons would fully ripen.

He didn’t have time to build things up gradually.

After browsing several livestream platforms, Mu Xing chose a reputable one called Yunduo Video and directly contacted their partnership account.

The name “Mu Xing” still carried some weight.

Sure enough, they replied quickly.

Livestream platforms were always eager to have celebrities join. Ordinary people relied on the platform’s traffic to gain exposure, but celebrities could bring traffic to the platform.

And Mu Xing’s high-profile retirement from the industry had been all over the news six months ago—since then, he had completely vanished from the internet. If his first reappearance after quitting was on their platform, it would be a huge draw.

After confirming his identity, Yunduo Video quickly sent him a collaboration invite.

Mu Xing didn’t accept their contract offer, but he said he would join the platform and livestream and post videos there.

His only requirement was that Yunduo Video promote him and give him a certain level of exposure.

They would have done that anyway, even without him asking.

Once they settled the details, Mu Xing registered his Yunduo Video account and sent them his ID.

YunduoVideo: Alright, I’ll give you official verification right away.

Less than a minute later, a verified badge appeared next to his account.

YunduoVideo: Your verification is done. Let us know when you want to do your first livestream, and we’ll arrange promotions accordingly.

Mu Xing thought for a moment and replied: Three days from now, in the morning.

His equipment from an online order hadn’t arrived yet.

Once that was set, Mu Xing spent the next few days waiting for his gear and lurking in various livestream rooms to study how others sold products.

Yunduo Video did its part, too—one day before his debut, they put him on the app’s main banner:

#MuXingishere! Tomorrow morning at 9, join famous idol Mu Xing on Yunduo Video!

Netizens: ???

These days, celebrities joining video platforms wasn’t unusual, but the name “Mu Xing” was… different.

In fan circles, he was unpopular.

Among general video platform users, celebrities in general weren’t liked, and pretty-boy idols with “only a face and no talent” like Mu Xing were even more disliked.

His livestream room wasn’t even open yet, but the comment section under Yunduo Video’s official post was already flooded:

[Mu Xing? Didn’t he say he was quitting the industry? Why’s he doing livestreams now?]

[Lol, I knew it—no way he actually quit. He must’ve been blacklisted by the company before, and now that the heat has died down, he’s crawling back to make money.]

[Ahhh, Little Xingxing! I’ve waited half a year for you, finally there’s news!]

[How low can you go? A proper idol has now fallen to being a streamer. Everyone else is moving up in the world, but you’re going backwards. As expected, a useless person is still useless.]

[Wow, I’m really impressed with Yunduo Video—always dragging in celebrities. What can they even do? You’d be better off signing competent streamers.]

[Mu Xing livestreaming? What’s he going to do—sing and dance? And his singing and dancing is even worth watching?]

[He can sell his face. Isn’t that what these traffic-chasers all do? Like that so-and-so, the fans eat that right up.]

[Some loser guys can keep being bitter, my idol’s face is beautiful and he’s talented. You could be jealous for a lifetime and still not measure up to one strand of his hair.]

…

Seeing the insults under their post, the Yunduo Video staff, who’d been a little worried at first, suddenly felt reassured.

A lot of cursing was fine—what was scary was if nobody even bothered to curse. That would mean real obscurity.

---

At Star Entertainment, when Li Xin got a message from Chang Yiming, he confirmed, “You’re saying Mu Xing is going on Yunduo Video to livestream?”

Chang Yiming: “Yeah, they even gave him a launch-screen promo.”

Li Xin downloaded Yunduo Video, and when he saw the brightly smiling face on the splash screen, his jaw clenched so hard it hurt—pain that seemed to shoot through his whole body.

That beating he got from Mu Xing during their farewell was vicious enough to leave an eternal impression.

Over the past half-year, he’d been keeping an eye on industry gossip, but Mu Xing really had vanished completely, not a trace of news.

He asked, “So it’s just livestreaming? No other rumors?”

Chang Yiming knew exactly what he meant and nodded. “Nope, no word about him linking up with any company.”

Li Xin grunted, “Got it.”

Hanging up, he felt a mix of satisfaction at seeing Mu Xing “fall” to livestreaming, and lingering frustration. He then dialed another number.

---

The next morning at 9 a.m.

Mu Xing turned on his equipment and opened his livestream room right on time.

The moment it went live, viewer numbers skyrocketed. The comment section in the lower left scrolled so fast it was a blur, with countless messages flashing by:

[Mu Xing, get out of the entertainment industry!]

[Don’t come here and hurt my eyes!]

[Welcome everyone to watch China’s #1 talentless idol, Mu Xing, livestream!]

In perfect unison, hundreds of mocking, jeering comments flooded in within the first minute.

It was so over-the-top that even netizens who’d been drawn in by the launch-screen just to mock him were momentarily stunned.

They’d seen plenty of celebrity debut livestreams—usually the chat would be dominated by fans spamming praise and slogans, fake as anything, and unbearable for real passersby to watch.

This was the first time they’d seen a celebrity’s stream overrun by haters.

Thinking about it, it was actually kind of pitiful. And honestly, the haters were harsher than they could ever be—it almost made them embarrassed to pile on.

So instead of leaving, they decided to stick around and see what happened next.

---

Everyone assumed Mu Xing’s stream would be like any other celeb’s: sit in a chair with a beauty filter, chat with the audience, sing a couple songs, and slip in some ads.

But this stream?

The setting was clearly outdoors, with a jujube tree in the background. The video quality was sharp enough to see the branches heavy with fruit.

And the host?

As they were still wondering, a figure walked into frame.

White T-shirt, jeans, sneakers—simple as could be.

But the instant viewers saw him, their minds were filled with one thought:

Holy crap… who’s this hot guy?

Even the relentless stream of insults hit an odd pause.

Mu Xing smiled at the camera. “Hi everyone, I’m Mu Xing. Starting today, I’m officially on Yunduo Live. I’ll be streaming from time to time, so I hope you’ll support me.”

[??? Who’s this handsome guy? That’s Mu Xing?]

[I heard he used to be really popular but had no skills—people said the only thing he had going for him was his face. Honestly, that’s not wrong. With a face like that, who needs skills?]

[If I had that face, I could walk sideways through life.]

[Handsome. Seriously handsome. I usually look down on these traffic idols, but as a straight guy, I have to admit this Mu Xing looks good.]

[Yeah right, like you could get that without a million-dollar filter. We all know what Mu Xing really looks like. This is way too much P.]

[Drop the filter, let’s see reality!]

[Exactly. Can someone tell him to turn off the beauty filter before going live?]

[Half a year gone, and my idol’s gotten even better-looking!]

…

Mu Xing glanced at the chat and saw it was all about his looks.

He couldn’t help saying, “Let’s not talk about my appearance—something that has nothing to do with today’s stream. Come on, let me show you my hometown, the beautiful Xiaoxi Village.”

❣╰(⸝⸝⸝꒳⸝⸝⸝)╯❣

Mu Xing drove a small electric three-wheeler, weaving through the streets of the town.

“You’re here again, young man. What do you need today?”

“One pack of bok choy seeds, one pack of radish seeds, and two bags of fertilizer!”

After paying, Mu Xing took out a notebook from his bag and checked it:

“Aunt Zhang wants two jin of lean pork and two mangoes. Xiao Bin wants to buy a blue Ultraman schoolbag…”

An hour later, Mu Xing returned to the village with a load of goods and began delivering the things he had picked up for everyone.

“Thank you, Xing Xing. Without your help, it’s such a hassle for me to buy things.”

“Thanks, Brother Xing Xing.”

“No problem, I was going to get some supplies myself anyway.”

After finishing his deliveries, Mu Xing drove the three-wheeler back to Xiaoxi Village.

The place where he was living had completely changed. The whole house had been renovated, with bright-colored paint on the walls, and Mu Xing had added some essential home appliances.

He was not the kind of person to live in discomfort. Though supplies in the mountains were limited, online shopping was now available—only, items were delivered to the town and had to be picked up personally.

All his bedding was bought online. It didn’t have to be especially pretty, but it had to be comfortable.

Opening the door, the living room was right there. To the right were two bedrooms—one for Mu Xing himself, the other used as a study. Behind was a spacious backyard, with a semi-open kitchen in one corner and a dining area in another. On the right were two vegetable plots and a small flower bed.

He carried two bags of rice into the backyard and began rinsing rice for cooking.

By his count, it had already been half a year since he returned to Xiaoxi Village.

In this half year, Mu Xing had felt many changes in himself.

First, his strength had greatly increased. For example, just now, each of the rice bags he bought in town weighed fifty jin, and he had lifted them from the three-wheeler with one hand each, effortlessly and without even panting.

Nothing in his memories suggested that Mu Xing had such natural strength.

Then there were his senses—his vision and hearing had improved, his body felt lighter, and his sense of smell seemed sharper.

There were also changes in his appearance.

During his two years at Star Entertainment, the original Mu Xing had been under tremendous stress, developing tendencies toward severe depression and anxiety. This had led to drastic weight loss, frequent insomnia, and significant hair loss, with his hairline receding noticeably.

After returning to Xiaoxi Village, his weight had naturally recovered—especially since Mu Xing was open-hearted and spoke his mind, without letting things fester.

Never one to skimp on his own comfort, he lived well, and by the time he terminated his contract with Star Entertainment, his overly thin frame had already started to fill out. Over the past six months, he had visibly rounded out, no longer looking like a gust of wind could knock him over.

Fortunately, Mu Xing liked to roam the mountains in his free time, so he got plenty of exercise—otherwise, he might have lost even his abs.

The change in his hairline was obvious; he could see fine baby hairs growing back when he looked in the mirror.

Then there was his skin.

The original had naturally good skin. As a mountain child, he’d never had any concept of skincare, running barefoot in the sun all day yet remaining pale and tender-skinned. Only during those two stressful years had his complexion looked haggard.

In the past six months, even though Mu Xing had been running around in the mountains exposed to wind and rain, his skin hadn’t roughened at all—if anything, it had become even fairer and more flawless, smooth and lustrous like jade, with a healthy rosy glow, as if he were so fresh he could be squeezed for water.

Mu Xing thought he looked a bit too fair, almost feminine, so for a while he deliberately sunbathed in the noon heat every day. But after ten or fifteen days with no effect at all, he gave up with a sigh.

For all these reasons, Mu Xing had suspected something unusual. He went to the county hospital for a full check-up, but the results showed nothing wrong—his health was excellent.

When he cautiously explained his doubts to the doctor, a middle-aged woman old enough to be his mother gave him a look that was hard to describe.

“Young man,” she said, looking at his youthful, rosy face, “if you’re that free, go find something meaningful to do.”

Stop wasting my time here with your fussing!

Since the tests showed nothing wrong and he felt perfectly fine, Mu Xing decided to drop the matter.

“Squeak squeak squeak!”

Looking up, Mu Xing saw a monkey squatting on the fence.

“It’s you.” Mu Xing waved at it.

This monkey had first appeared in his yard more than a month ago, probably from the mountains.

At first, Mu Xing thought it had wandered there by accident—wild animals were usually very wary and avoided humans—so he pretended not to notice it.

But the monkey never left. It didn’t run around either, just sat on the fence watching Mu Xing eat, then watched him wash some fruit afterward.

Mu Xing had hesitated at the time, then held up a banana. “Want to eat?”

That was the start of their bond.

Every few days, the little monkey would visit, sometimes even bringing Mu Xing wild fruit from the mountains—it was surprisingly intelligent.

Now, seeing Mu Xing notice it, the monkey looked happy, hopping twice along the fence before pointing to the right.

Following its gesture, Mu Xing saw two large heads slowly rise above the wall.

Another two monkeys!

Mu Xing laughed. “What, you even brought friends today?”

He found it amusing and tried greeting the two newcomers. The two monkeys seemed a little shy, not as lively as the first one, but still carefully jumped down from the fence and slowly came over to shake his hand.

Mu Xing was smiling and about to say something when he suddenly heard the sound of pounding footsteps from the front.

The two monkeys seemed startled, and in a flash they jumped back. By the time Mu Xing snapped out of it, they had already leapt over the fence and disappeared.

“Brother Mu Xing! Have you eaten yet?” A boy in a blue-and-white school uniform stood at the gate of Mu Xing’s house calling for him.

Mu Xing walked to the front and smiled when he saw who it was. “Oh, it’s Xiao Bin.”

Xiao Bin’s full name was Lu Xiaobin. He was in second grade this year. His father had passed away, his mother worked in another city, and he lived with his grandfather, who was over sixty.

Grandpa Lu had trouble walking, so he usually made small handicrafts like bamboo dragonflies and sold them in the county on weekends to earn pocket money for his grandson—like the blue Ultraman schoolbag Xiao Bin had wanted for a long time.

Xiao Bin’s background was a bit pitiful, but for those still living in Xiaoxi Village—apart from Uncle Fang and Aunt Xiu, who stayed out of fondness for their old neighbors—few had it easy.

Xiao Bin handed over a small plastic jar, showing a big white-toothed smile. “My grandpa ground some chili powder. He said you probably didn’t have any this year, so he told me to bring you a jar.”

The people of Xiaoxi Village were just like that—simple and warm-hearted, always thinking of their neighbors when they had something to share.

Mu Xing accepted the gift. “Thank you, Grandpa Lu. Thank you, Xiao Bin.”

Seeing the blazing sun outside, he pulled Xiao Bin inside. “It’s hot out—come in and sit.”

He took a bottle of soda from the fridge and grabbed a handful of chocolates for Xiao Bin.

Xiao Bin blushed and quickly waved his hands. “I don’t want them.”

He said, “These things are expensive. My grandpa says you’re a good person, Brother Mu Xing, but we can’t always take advantage of you, or he won’t let me come play at your house anymore.”

When Mu Xing had first come back, the village children had been a bit afraid to approach him. In their eyes, this big brother was handsome, stylishly dressed, and seemed like he came from a completely different world.

But it hadn’t taken long for them to discover that he was very nice—he helped bring things back for their families and invited them to play at his house.

Brother Mu Xing’s house was clean and pretty, with lots of tasty candy—and even a computer! They could watch all kinds of movies and cartoons!

Before long, his place had become the most popular spot for kids in Xiaoxi Village.

Xiao Bin didn’t touch the snacks on the table, fidgeting with his shirt instead. He shyly asked, “Brother Mu Xing, have you eaten?”

Mu Xing nodded. “Just finished.”

Xiao Bin said, “Then let me wash the dishes for you!”

Mu Xing quickly stood to stop him. “No, no.”

He guessed the reason and asked, “It’s Sunday—Xiao Bin, have you finished your homework?”

Xiao Bin nodded. Not only had he finished his homework, but he’d also washed the bedding at home.

Mu Xing grinned. “Xiao Bin’s so good. How about I reward you with two hours of cartoons?”

Xiao Bin’s eyes lit up instantly.

As expected, Mu Xing thought with amusement, the kid obviously just wanted to use the computer but was too shy to ask.

Seeing Xiao Bin happily run toward the study, Mu Xing couldn’t help smiling, though it soon turned into a wistful look.

Life was too hard for the children in Xiaoxi Village.

He’d been outside and seen what life was like for city kids. Their everyday life was something kids like Xiao Bin couldn’t even dream of.

The people here were so kind—he hoped they could live better lives.

Unfortunately, he had no business sense.

That night, Mu Xing sat in his study, searching online—

How can mountain villagers become prosperous?

But the answers were either ridiculous, like telling you to find thousand-year-old ginseng or lingzhi deep in the mountains to get rich overnight—

Or blatant advertisements: Join XX franchise, get rich easily, earn 100,000 a month!

The next day, Mu Xing slept in unusually late.

After breakfast, seeing the nice weather, he planned to take a walk in the mountains. But then he overheard Uncle Fang and Aunt Xiu chatting next door.

Normally, this distance was too far for him to hear clearly, but Mu Xing’s hearing had become unusually sharp lately.

He was about to walk away quickly, but then he caught what they were talking about:

“Sigh, who would’ve thought Boss Xu, who’s been ordering from us every year, suddenly wouldn’t want any this time?”

“What should we do? With so many persimmons, if Boss Xu won’t buy them, we’ll never sell them all.”

“Uncle Zhang told me about it, and he’s really worried.”

…

Mu Xing changed direction, walked over to Uncle Fang’s house, and greeted them.

“Uncle Zhang, morning. What are you talking about?”

Sure enough, Uncle Fang’s face was full of worry, though he still smiled when he saw Mu Xing. “Morning, Xing Xing.”

He sighed. “I was just chatting with your Uncle Zhang this morning—this year’s persimmons will be hard to sell.”

❣╰(⸝⸝⸝꒳⸝⸝⸝)╯❣

On the day Mu Xing left with his bag, Star Entertainment’s official account posted a Weibo statement, saying that their artist Mu Xing had terminated his contract with the company and withdrawn from MRC. Both parties parted on friendly terms, wishing Mu Xing a bright future.

Coincidentally, that day the members of MRC had an event scheduled, which was canceled at the last minute. The official explanation was that several members caught colds and went to the hospital together.

A cold isn’t a serious illness, so after showing some concern, fans quickly began expressing their joy over Mu Xing’s contract termination in the comments under the Weibo post:

[Great! This useless guy finally left the group. No more worrying about him dragging the others down.]

[Congratulations, congratulations. Wonder which company’s going to be his next victim.]

[Friendly parting—those who understand, understand.]

……

Only a small portion of fans who still liked Mu Xing were asking in fan groups and on Weibo about Mu Xing’s future plans.

They soon got an answer.

Mu Xing updated his own Weibo account with a video recorded on his phone.

No professional filming, no editing.

It was clearly a selfie video. In it, the young man wearing a simple hoodie jacket had endless green mountains behind him. He faced the camera with a smile free of any gloom:

“Hello everyone, I’m Mu Xing. Consider this video my farewell to you all…”

“I won’t be renewing a contract with any company, and I have no intention of continuing to work in the entertainment industry.”

His expression was calm and steady: “Actually, many netizens are right. I’m not suited for the stage, nor for being a star in the spotlight. Life in the mountains suits me much better.”

“After I post this video, I won’t be using this account anymore.”

“Goodbye.” Finally, he waved at the camera.

The video ended there.

Mu Xing, at least, had been a black-and-red trending celebrity. And since this was also a withdrawal statement, within less than half an hour of its posting, the video quickly shot up to the top ranks of the hot search.

[Whoa, directly quitting the industry? Is this real? I’m going to do twenty test papers to celebrate such a good thing!]

[Tsk, this is definitely another round of hype. Just wait, within half a year, I’ll definitely see news of ‘Mu Xing’s comeback.’]

[Quitting the industry voluntarily? That’s just for saving face. Anyone who’s seen that earlier video knows Mu Xing was abandoned by Star Entertainment. He clearly just couldn’t make it anymore.]

[Am I the only one who thinks… Mu Xing in the video actually looks really handsome?]

[You’re not alone upstairs. I think so too, but I didn’t dare say it before.]

[+1 to thinking he’s handsome. His fans have always praised his looks, and I never got it before, but just now… I really was struck by how good-looking he is.]

[Reporting in as a long-time face-fan of Xing Xing! He’s always been good-looking, but those stage outfits never suited him. Like this—simple, even barefaced—he’s absolutely stunning!]

Following the hashtag #MuXingAnnouncesQuittingTheEntertainmentIndustry#, the hashtag #MuXingVisuals# also gradually began to gain popularity.

But Mu Xing didn’t know this, nor did he care.

After posting that video, he logged out of the account.

At this moment, Mu Xing had just finished a more than six-hour ride from the county town, returning by evening to the hometown of this body—a very remote mountain village.

There weren’t many households in the village, and compared to when Mu Xing was little, it had become even more desolate.

Carrying his luggage, he walked toward his home. From behind came a shout: “Hey, young man up front, who are you?”

Mu Xing turned around. It was an old man in a straw hat, his skin tanned dark and covered in wrinkles.

Smiling, Mu Xing called back, “Uncle Fang, it’s me, Mu Xing.”

The old man squinted, walked two steps closer, looked at Mu Xing carefully, and broke into a smile: “Oh, it’s little Xing Xing. Weren’t you in the big city being a big star?”

Then he shook his head. “You’ve gotten thinner.”

Mu Xing said with a smile, “Being a big star isn’t fun. Home is more comfortable.”

Uncle Fang’s eyes crinkled into a smile, and he came over to take the suitcase from Mu Xing’s hand. “Come on, let’s go to Uncle’s house for dinner. I’ll tell your Aunt Xiu to make a few more dishes.”

Mu Xing quickly said, “No need, no need. I was planning to go home first.”

Uncle Fang cut him off: “You haven’t been back for two years. Can your house even be lived in? No food, no drink—are you going home to eat the northwest wind?”

Mu Xing froze. He really hadn’t thought of that.

It was true—after two years of being unoccupied, the house certainly wouldn’t be ready to live in right away. Not to mention that his family’s house was already in dilapidated condition, and now it was nearly dark, which made tidying up even less convenient.

In the end, he still went to Uncle Fang’s house. Aunt Xiu even planned to kill a chicken to stew, but Mu Xing quickly refused. Even so, the elderly couple still prepared a large table of dishes.

After dinner, Aunt Xiu led him to a room. “This is your cousin Zhi Lan’s room. After she got married, she only comes back once every few months. The quilt and pillows have all been washed clean, and they were just sun-dried yesterday—they’re nice and warm.”

Zhi Lan was Uncle Fang and Aunt Xiu’s only daughter and now worked as a teacher in the county town.

Mu Xing couldn’t help saying, “I’m really troubling you, Uncle Fang, Aunt Xiu.”

Aunt Xiu waved her hand, pretending to be displeased. “What are you saying, child? Your Uncle Fang and I watched you grow up—you’re no different from our own child. You used to be so generous when you were young, how come after two years away you’ve become distant?”

Mu Xing touched his nose in embarrassment, thought for a moment, then smiled. “Then I won’t be polite.”

He stretched lazily and said with a drawl, “I have to admit, after traveling around for more than ten hours straight, I really am tired.”

Aunt Xiu quickly said, “Then why don’t you hurry and rest?”

“Okay!”

Mu Xing really was tired. After seeing off the enthusiastic aunt, he quickly took a shower, yawned, and dove into the soft, warm quilt, soon sinking into sleep.

*

Early the next morning, after eating breakfast at Uncle Fang’s house, Mu Xing finally returned to his own home.

Even though he already knew from memory what Mu Xing’s house looked like, actually opening the door and seeing it still left him a bit stunned.

It was too run-down.

There was hardly any decent furniture. The walls were mottled, with many cracks, and in one spot, a blade of grass was even growing out.

Mu Xing decisively turned around and left. Over the past two years, Mu Xing had still made some money—enough to fix the house easily. He planned to go ask Uncle Fang where he could find a builder.

Just then, he heard lively voices behind him. Turning around, he saw Uncle Fang at the front, followed by a dozen uncles and aunts, each carrying tools and smiling at him.

Uncle Fang said with a smile, “I said little Xing Xing has come back and will be staying for a while. So when I told them, everyone came to help you fix up the house.”

“That’s right, we all thought you wouldn’t be coming back, so we never touched the place.”

“It’s definitely not livable right now.”

“Little Xing Xing is getting more and more handsome, huh.”

Mu Xing stood frozen in place, looking at those weathered, not-so-handsome old faces. Suddenly, he understood why, after seeing all the splendor of the outside world, the original owner’s heart had still been tied to this backward, poor little village.

❣╰(⸝⸝⸝꒳⸝⸝⸝)╯❣

“Meow.”

From the sofa where Mu Xing was sitting, a little black head popped out—it was Mei Mei, who had hidden herself under a pillow after hearing the sound of the door earlier.

Before Mu Xing could say anything, Xu Wen’s door opened. He came out, looking anxious. “Have you seen Mei Mei?”

Mu Xing reached out and pointed beside him: the little gray ball had covered herself with the pillow, leaving only a round head sticking out.

Xu Wen let out a breath of relief, walked over, and bent down to pick Mei Mei up. “Why did you run out? You scared me to death.”

But when his hand reached out, Mei Mei swatted it away without mercy.

Xu Wen wasn’t surprised—this little princess had never been very affectionate, even toward him.

He was just about to coax her when, to his shock, the cat who had just swatted him turned her head, wriggled entirely out from under the pillow, leapt into Mu Xing’s lap, and flopped onto her back with all four paws in the air, softly begging for pets.

She was as sweet and docile as could be.

Like a completely different cat!

Xu Wen suddenly turned to glare at Mu Xing. “What did you do to my daughter?”

Mu Xing spread his hands innocently.

Xu Wen turned back to Mei Mei, his eyes shining.

He crouched down, calling expectantly, “Mei Mei, I’m your dad. Come on, let Dad hold you?”

But the devoted call of this father received no response—the heartless little cat poured all her affection onto another man.

When she didn’t get Mu Xing’s petting, she let out two dissatisfied whines and rolled over his lap twice, making Xu Wen green with envy.

“You really didn’t do anything? Then why is Mei Mei suddenly so close to you?” He was baffled.

Mu Xing truly didn’t know. Looking down at the soft bundle of fur on his lap, he couldn’t resist stroking her twice—the feel was excellent.

After a moment’s thought, he said, “Could it be… because I’m better-looking?”

Xu Wen: “…”

He looked at Mu Xing with a complicated expression. “I’m realizing you’re… a bit different from what I imagined.”

Mu Xing answered casually, “Oh. You never really looked me in the eye before.”

Xu Wen: “…”

He cleared his throat. “I’m just realizing now—you’re actually kind of interesting. If you’d been like this before, maybe we could’ve been friends.”

Mu Xing shook his head. “No.”

“What do you mean, no?” Xu Wen asked, puzzled.

Mu Xing finally took his eyes off Mei Mei and looked at Xu Wen. “If I’d been like this before, we could never have been friends.”

“…Why?”

“I don’t like you.”

Xu Wen froze, as if Mu Xing had said something incomprehensible.

Mu Xing looked at him, puzzled. “Where did you get the confidence to think that, after the way you three treated me, I wouldn’t dislike you?”

When Xu Wen stayed silent, Mu Xing lowered his gaze, pinched Mei Mei’s little ears, and snorted. “For the cat’s sake, I’m speaking nicely to you now. Otherwise, since we’ve already made things clear, I wouldn’t even want to look at you three.”

He stood up, tossed the very reluctant cat back into Xu Wen’s arms, and, just as he’d said, didn’t give him another glance.

*

Mu Xing didn’t care how much his words had shocked Xu Wen. He returned to his room, washed up, and lay in bed, thinking.

Thinking about what he should do.

He didn’t know where the original owner of this body had gone, but since he had come into it, he would take responsibility for it.

Sitting cross-legged on the bed, he sorted through Mu Xing’s memories.

Mu Xing hadn’t wanted to be a big star and had no great desire for money.

He was tired of his current life.

He didn’t hate anyone; in fact, he was grateful to Li Xin for showing him the outside world’s splendor.

But after seeing the splendor, he missed the free, unrestrained life of his hometown even more.

Moreover, after being hurt by so many haters, Mu Xing cherished even more the small group of fans who still liked and supported him.

Once he’d finished sorting through it all, Mu Xing thought: this person was a naive fool, but one that made people feel oddly sorry for and fond of.

Star Entertainment really didn’t deserve him.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed.

It was a call from Li Xin.

Mu Xing had just finished recalling the original’s experiences and was still feeling annoyed with Li Xin, so he didn’t bother answering and hung up.

After a few seconds of silence, the ringtone started blaring again.

Frowning, Mu Xing picked up. “What is it?”

Li Xin’s voice came through the line: “That video’s been posted online, and it’s getting a lot of attention. Get on Weibo and make a clarification.”

Video?

Mu Xing realized it was the one from earlier backstage, recorded by those two fangirls, showing Li Xin scolding him.

“What exactly do you want me to clarify?”

Li Xin, as if it were obvious, said, “Log into your account and say you feel very guilty about your mistake tonight. As for the video, say the audio was doctored, that you and I get along well, and that I’ve always taken care of you. Say the video was maliciously edited to smear me and the company.”

Mu Xing asked doubtfully, “But the video’s real—will netizens believe that?”

Impatient, Li Xin replied, “As long as you and I both insist it’s fake, I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Oh,” Mu Xing said. “I refuse.”

He hung up decisively and, before the next call could come through, blocked his agent’s number.

Before long, someone knocked on his door.

When he opened it, Captain Chang Yiming was standing outside.

“You probably know why I’m here, right?” Chang said. “Brother Xin wants you to post something on Weibo to clear up the misunderstanding.”

Without a word, Mu Xing shut the door.

From behind the door, Chang Yiming said, “Think carefully, Mu Xing. If you refuse today, you’ll completely offend the company. Do you not want to keep working in this industry?”

Mu Xing said, “Lately I’ve been having the same dream.”

Chang Yiming: “?”

Mu Xing said sincerely, “When I wake up from it, I feel enlightened—I think going back home to farm suits me better.”

Chang Yiming: “??”

Mu Xing: “That’s right, I really don’t want to keep working in this industry.”

Chang Yiming: “…”

*

Li Xin was furious.

He was good at controlling artists—but only those who still wanted to stay in the industry.

His harshest threat was always to blacklist them.

Faced with Mu Xing, who had suddenly lost all ambition, he was completely at a loss.

He tried threatening him by canceling some group activities, but Mu Xing didn’t care at all. He even went to the members’ residence in person, only to be told that Mu Xing had been going out early and returning late every day, and the other three didn’t know his schedule.

What was Mu Xing doing?

He was exercising.

Li Xin’s cancellation of his schedule suited him perfectly. He had recently found a somewhat secluded little park, where many elderly men and women worked out in the mornings.

Young, good-looking, and sweet-talking, he quickly won the affection of the older crowd, joining them every day for Baduanjin and Wuqinxi, eating three regular meals on time.

In just a week, his cheeks had rounded a little, and his complexion had improved a lot.

Li Xin could do nothing to him, so he cut off all his activities and ignored him completely.

Which was exactly what Mu Xing wanted.

*

Four months later—

Dressed in white sportswear and wearing a baseball cap, Mu Xing walked into Star Entertainment.

He successfully obtained his termination contract.

Li Xin looked at him with a dark gaze. In four months, the man in front of him had changed a lot, almost back to the way he’d been when Li Xin had first met him—

That same startling aura and brightness that had shocked Li Xin, who was used to seeing handsome men and beautiful women.

“You’d better really quit the industry,” Li Xin said coldly. “Otherwise, no matter what new company you find, I’ll make sure you can’t stay in this circle.”

Mu Xing ignored the threat and instead extended an invitation. “I’ve already bought tomorrow’s train ticket. Before I go home, I’d like to invite you and my three teammates to dinner.”

Li Xin sneered. “At this point, you don’t need to pretend to be nice.”

Mu Xing puffed his cheeks. “But if you don’t come, I’ll feel regretful.”

He looked at Li Xin expectantly. “Brother Li, for the sake of our two years together, one last meal?”

In today’s white sportswear, he looked especially young. His delicate features and black-and-white eyes seemed to hold a spring of clear water, and for a moment Li Xin was dazed, thinking he really did look like those overly sentimental fans’ description of “deer eyes.”

Against his better judgment, he agreed.

Mu Xing then invited Chang Yiming and the other two members, booking a famous private restaurant with excellent privacy.

Then—

He neatly beat the four of them up.

“I told you, you all owe me an apology,” he said, looking at the four bruised and battered on the ground. “We need to settle the accounts before I go.”

“Now we’re even.”

“Goodbye—forever.”

❣╰(⸝⸝⸝꒳⸝⸝⸝)╯❣

The other three members of MRC had disliked Mu Xing from the very start.

Though all newcomers, Mu Xing had received extra attention from day one.

At that time, both the company’s higher-ups and the agent treated Mu Xing like a treasure, showing blatant favoritism toward him, giving him better treatment than the other three.

Mu Xing didn’t understand these undercurrents. When he tried to share with them, it was taken as pretentiousness.

They were all young and proud—who could accept such unequal treatment? The three quickly began to form their own clique, intentionally or not excluding Mu Xing. But at the time, Mu Xing was popular, and the company protected him, so they didn’t dare go too far.

Now, though they weren’t exactly famous, the three were still doing far better than Mu Xing, whose haters outnumbered his fans. He had become the one dragging the group down.

The exclusion went from subtle to blatant.

Captain Chang Yiming patted the other two on the shoulders. “Good work today, everyone. Go take a shower and get some rest.”

Xu Wen, wearing a black hoodie, gave a cold laugh. “Shame that after all that practice, the stage was still ruined by certain people.”

Seeing that Mu Xing seemed oblivious, he couldn’t hold back. He threw the bag in his hand heavily to the floor and raised his voice: “Seriously, if I were certain people, I’d be too ashamed to stay in this group. But some people have such thick skin—they can still enjoy their porridge!”

Mu Xing looked up, puzzled. “Why can’t I drink porridge?”

He disagreed with Xu Wen’s words. “My stomach’s not good. If I go hungry and make it worse, my condition will only get worse.”

Thinking of what the taxi driver had said earlier, he added, “Nothing is more important than your own health.”

“You—!” Xu Wen choked. “So you messed up on stage today, got us all scolded, and you don’t feel the least bit guilty?”

“I actually do feel very guilty,” Mu Xing said.

The original Mu Xing hadn’t just felt guilty—he’d felt so ashamed he couldn’t even face his teammates.

“Really?” Xu Wen sneered. “I sure can’t tell.”

Mu Xing paused, then asked in return, “You really can’t tell?”

Xu Wen rolled his eyes.

Mu Xing thought for a moment, then stood up and said earnestly to all three of them, “I didn’t perform well today, and I dragged you down. I really do feel guilty.”

Xu Wen: “…”

Is guilt something you just say with your mouth?

Putting on this act—who’s it for!

He snapped, “Who wants your fake apology? Do we need an apology? If you really feel guilty, go tell the company and quit the group. Stop dragging us down!”

Mu Xing nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ve already been thinking about that.”

Xu Wen: “Otherwise, don’t fake… Wait—what did you say?”

Mu Xing said, “My contract with the company doesn’t have much time left. I don’t really like life in the entertainment industry. I’ll talk to the company about it.”

Xu Wen and the other two members froze. They hadn’t expected Mu Xing to say it so naturally.

Who wouldn’t want to be a superstar in the spotlight? Especially since Mu Xing had once been so popular.

Xu Wen gave him a strange look, thinking he was acting oddly today.

But since Mu Xing usually didn’t talk much—and the three either treated him like air or mocked him—they didn’t know him well enough to guess that he now had a different soul inside.

The thing they had dreamed of was actually spoken aloud so easily?

Xu Wen thought he should be overjoyed, but looking at Mu Xing’s calm expression, he inexplicably felt stifled.

And who knew if he was telling the truth?

He sneered, “Hope you keep your word. If you really dare to tell the company, I’ll admit you’re a real man, and I’ll let bygones be bygones.”

Hearing this, Mu Xing looked at Xu Wen and confirmed, “You’re saying you’ll let bygones be bygones?”

Xu Wen’s eyes widened. “What do you mean? Are you questioning me?”

Mu Xing didn’t answer, but turned to Captain Chang Yiming and the other member, Xu Zijia, and asked, “What about you? Do you feel the same way as Xu Wen?”

The two didn’t quite understand, exchanged a glance, and Chang Yiming said, “We’ve lived under the same roof for nearly two years. Although you’ve dragged us down a lot, if you can take the initiative to tell the company you want to quit, whether or not it works out, Zijia and I will respect you as a real man. Let the past be the past.”

Mu Xing looked at the three well-groomed young men in front of him and nodded. “I understand what you mean. Since you’re done, it’s my turn to speak.”

Chang Yiming frowned. “What do you want to say?”

Mu Xing reviewed the memories in his mind. “Since we’re setting things straight, before we end this, there are things that need to be made clear.

“When MRC was first formed, I was at the peak of my online popularity. Back then, the company’s marketing used me almost entirely as the hook. How much traffic did you all get just from following the name Mu Xing?”

He looked at the three of them. “Did any of you ever thank me for that?”

Without waiting for an answer, he asked again:

“These past two years, with my poor stage performance—did I really hold you back? Did I really drag you down that much?”

The three stared at him. Under the white light, the young man—barefaced and looking even younger than his real age—watched them calmly and openly with those beautiful eyes once praised by fans as clear as a mirror.

Those eyes, once clouded with dejection and gloom, had once again become clean and pure, as if they could reflect all the hidden filth in the world.

“Every time I make a mistake on stage, it doesn’t take long before the internet is filled with comments about how people feel sorry for my teammates, along with all kinds of comparisons between me and you from every possible angle.”

“Now, with me, this so-called ‘useless teammate,’ as your backdrop, the other three members of MRC have become the ‘most unfortunate idols in the entertainment industry’—supposedly possessing the strongest abilities, yet being held back by me and unable to become truly famous.”

“Every time I make a mistake, your so-called ‘strength’ gets to rise another level.”

Mu Xing stopped speaking, watching the shifting expressions on their faces, and asked, “Is that really all just a coincidence?”

He asked them, “You’re always asking me if I feel guilty—but when you stepped on Mu Xing to climb higher, did you ever feel the slightest guilt toward him?”

After a moment of silence, Chang Yiming let out a small laugh and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mu Xing shook his head. “You understand. This isn’t fair.”

He looked at the three of them. “I’ve already apologized for the ways I’ve wronged you. Now, for the ways you’ve wronged me, you should also apologize to me.”

Chang Yiming chuckled. “Mu Xing, you must be too tired today—you’re starting to talk nonsense. Let’s talk about whatever it is tomorrow. For now, let’s all get some rest.”

He was the first to step toward his room.

Xu Zijia followed behind.

Xu Wen gave Mu Xing a complicated look, opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end, closed it again and left in silence.

Three doors shut without a sound.

Mu Xing looked at the three closed doors and muttered, “You guys really aren’t the least bit honest.”

❣╰(⸝⸝⸝꒳⸝⸝⸝)╯❣

Li Xin almost thought he was hearing things.

His first reaction wasn’t even anger—it was doubt.

Through the lenses of his glasses, he comically widened his eyes and stared hard at Mu Xing, almost unable to believe that those mocking words had actually come out of the mouth of this guy who normally wouldn’t make a peep.

But there were only two people in the dressing room. After speaking, the man in front of him didn’t even look at him again, simply reached for the tissues on the table.

A beat late, Li Xin’s anger flared instantly. He shouted, “Mu Xing! What did you just say? Are you crazy?”

Mu Xing paid no mind to his anger. He pulled out a tissue, neatly folded all four corners, and wiped the water droplets off his face. Looking at him in puzzlement, he asked, “Was my voice too quiet just now? Or was I not clear enough?”

Li Xin: “…”

“Well.” Li Xin took a deep breath, looked Mu Xing up and down, and let out an angry laugh. “You’ve really grown today—you even know how to talk back. What, have you realized you don’t have what it takes to be popular and given up? Let yourself go? Or have you just always had a problem with me and finally couldn’t hold it in today?”

“I knew it—you’re not as honest as you look, you little ingrate!”

He looked at Mu Xing with contempt. “But you’d better understand this, Mu Xing—everything you have today, you have because of me, Li Xin! Without me, you’d still be in some mountain ditch playing in the mud!”

Mu Xing recalled the memories in his mind and seriously refuted him: “If I remember correctly, you were the one who grabbed my hand and wouldn’t let go, begging me to sign a contract and begging me to enter the entertainment industry.”

Li Xin: “…”

So angry he almost became clear-headed, Li Xin reined in his temper and gave Mu Xing a strange look.

A person who liked to overthink wouldn’t realize that Mu Xing was simply stating a fact.

A man who had always been silent and weak suddenly turning tough and even bringing up old grievances—Li Xin thought it over and decided there could only be one reason: Mu Xing wanted something.

“What do you want?” he suddenly asked.

Mu Xing gave him a strange look. He knew Li Xin bore him no goodwill, but he couldn’t figure out what this man was thinking now.

He shook his head and said nothing.

Li Xin, seeing this, sneered. “Fine, tough guy!”

“I won’t argue with you—this is just lowering my level. But Mu Xing, people have to pay for their impulses. From now on, don’t go to the practice room. All your activities are suspended.”

Without even looking at Mu Xing, Li Xin turned and left.

Today, he was going to teach Mu Xing a lesson: to be tough, you need to have something to back it up.

Without it, even a washed-up little nobody dared to talk tough to his face?

*

Mu Xing stood in the empty dressing room, looking baffled at the agent’s storming back.

Leaving the room, he ran into a staff member and learned that Star Entertainment’s car had just left. The staffer asked if Mu Xing needed help calling a taxi. Mu Xing shook his head and thanked him.

Just then, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Mu Xing glanced at the message—it was from his assistant, Xiao An, assigned by the company, saying that Brother Li had given him time off, so he wouldn’t be coming by for the next few days.

As for how many days, Xiao An didn’t say. This was Li Xin’s way of putting him in his place—most likely, Xiao An would only come back to work once Mu Xing went to “admit his mistake.”

Following what he remembered, Mu Xing used an app to call a ride. Once in the car, a sudden cramp twisted in his stomach, and he instinctively pressed a hand to it.

From the rearview mirror, the taxi driver glanced at him. With a hat on, the man’s face was hard to see, but from his build and clothing, the driver could tell he was a young guy.

“Young man, is your stomach bothering you?” the driver asked.

Mu Xing rubbed his belly and made a slightly displeased “mm” in reply.

The driver began to chatter away, saying that young people these days had terrible schedules—his daughter too, staying up all night and sleeping all day on vacation, no matter how much he scolded her, she wouldn’t change…

Mu Xing listened attentively and didn’t find it annoying. At least this uncle’s voice was much nicer than that of his agent earlier.

Soon they reached the destination. As Mu Xing got out, the driver reminded him, “Young man, don’t work yourself too hard. You can never earn all the money, but your health is the most important.”

Mu Xing nodded in agreement. “Makes sense.”

He watched the taxi speed away, then turned and walked into the residential complex behind him.

Opening the door, he found the apartment quiet; none of the other roommates were back yet.

To build rapport and chemistry, the four members of MRC lived together. Unfortunately, their relationship had never been good from the start.

In his room, Mu Xing found two bags of milk powder, made a big cup of hot milk, and drank it down. The cramping in his stomach eased considerably.

He ordered takeout and, while waiting for it, took a shower.

Only after taking off his clothes did Mu Xing realize just how thin this body was. Looking down, he could clearly see the lines of his ribs under his pale skin.

Li Xin said being thin looked better on camera and strictly controlled his diet—especially forbidding him from eating any staple food at night.

With the company’s heavy training load, inadequate nutrition, and the double burden of psychological stress, Mu Xing’s weight had dropped rapidly over the past two years, and his complexion had worsened. Li Xin even claimed this was good—that fans liked the pale and sickly look.

As he showered, Mu Xing thought: Star Entertainment’s decline was no mystery—you could see plenty of problems just from Li Xin, the agent.

They had no aesthetic sense of their own, blindly believing in so-called market demands, without even knowing what actually suited their own company’s artists.

This body of Mu Xing’s had very clear strengths—delicate, handsome looks, a pure and clean temperament, and the vibrant vitality of a child raised in the mountains.

Li Xin had many ways he could have created an idol with a rare style in the market.

But what did Li Xin do after signing Mu Xing?

He made him lose weight until he was unnaturally thin, polished away his natural vitality, forced heavy idol-style makeup on him, and made him “blend into the crowd,” just another background piece among countless performers on stage.

And then Mu Xing faded into obscurity.

Apart from a small handful of die-hard face-fans, most of his supporters left the fandom, and even more turned into anti-fans. Even the video that had first made Mu Xing go viral was, in their eyes, reinterpreted as a deliberate marketing ploy.

Li Xin, meanwhile, mourned the fact that Mu Xing hadn’t brought him the expected profits, while placing all the blame on Mu Xing—completely unaware of his own mistakes.

“Meow~”

The sound outside the bathroom door interrupted Mu Xing’s thoughts.

He put on his clothes and opened the door.

A round, gray “coal ball” was scratching at the door. When it saw Mu Xing come out, it let out a happy mewl, jumped to his feet, and with a “plop,” settled on the top of his foot without moving.

It had some weight to it.

Mu Xing moved his foot but couldn’t shake the cat off.

This was his roommate Xu Wen’s precious British Blue, Mei Mei—a haughty little thing who, according to memory, would only let Xu Wen hold her when she was in the mood.

What was going on now?

The little creature lying on his foot, seeing no reaction from him, let out two more dainty cries.

Mu Xing could actually hear a hint of urging in the sound. He pinched the loose skin at the back of her neck and lifted her into his arms. Sure enough, she didn’t struggle, happily clutching his collar and mewing sweetly.

Mu Xing searched his memories but found no sign of the cat ever being close to the original Mu Xing. Just then, his phone rang. He set the cat on the sofa to take the call.

“Hello?”

His hem suddenly sagged—there was a cat pendant clinging to him again.

In the end, with the cat hanging from his arms, Mu Xing went out to pick up his takeout.

When he opened the box, the rich aroma of fresh meat porridge wafted out.

Mei Mei mewed, wriggling further into his arms.

Mu Xing: “…Hungry?”

He said warily, “This is my dinner!”

Mei Mei clutched his collar, mewing a few more times, without even glancing at the bowl of porridge.

Not trying to eat?

Relieved, Mu Xing decided to let the cat hang there if she wanted.

It was at that moment that his three roommates noisily returned.

They seemed to be chatting about something, laughing loudly.

Then the laughter cut off instantly the moment they saw Mu Xing sitting in the living room.

Doors closed in silence, and the atmosphere turned cold in an instant.

❣╰(⸝⸝⸝꒳⸝⸝⸝)╯❣

WARNING: NO CP! NO CP! NO CP! Due to MC’s “true nature,” there will be no CP and no romance.

…

Translator has something to say: I only found out after uploading on NU that another translator had already started working on this project—so sorry about that! I truly didn’t mean to overlap. Much love and respect to the other translator for their hard work 💖 Our wonderful readers are free to enjoy the story from whichever site they prefer ☺️

…

ARC 1: After Leaving the Entertainment Industry and Returning Home to Farm, I Became Popular

“A perfectly fine performance, and you had to be the one to drag us down! Something this simple—you’ve practiced it so many times and still can’t do it? Did I sign a pig?”

Mu Xing had just regained consciousness when he was met head-on with a fierce scolding:

“I must have been blind back then to go to all that trouble to sign you.”

‘Trading ten brains for one face’—that’s you, isn’t it?”

“Do you think you’re worthy of the fans who like you? Worthy of all the hard work I put in to get you resources?”

“…”

Agent Li Xin was venting his pent-up anger, when suddenly, the person who had been keeping his head down and listening quietly raised his head. His black-and-white eyes stared straight at him.

Mu Xing had always been the type to accept whatever came his way. Li Xin was used to venting his emotions on him, used to seeing him with lowered eyes and a meek expression. Being stared at like this all of a sudden startled him.

“What are you doing? Not convinced?” Still smoldering, he snapped angrily.

Mu Xing pointed toward the space behind him. “Someone’s eavesdropping at the door.”

Startled, Li Xin quickly turned his head. The tightly shut dressing room door was now ajar, and at the doorway, two girls wearing masks were peeking inside, their phones pointed in this direction as if recording video.

Li Xin forgot all about Mu Xing and rushed over in a hurry.

With a bang, the door slammed shut. The agent must have gone out to talk to the two girls, leaving the man in the room frowning slightly.

He slowly and curiously looked around the room, then walked to the restroom on instinct.

In the mirror appeared the face of a young man—excellent bone structure, handsome features, all perfectly proportioned.

It should have been a clean, refined look, but the face in the mirror was covered in makeup so heavy it bordered on gaudy. Instead of achieving the intended effect, it looked awkward and mismatched.

The instant he saw that face, it was as if some long-buried thing rushed forth into Mu Xing’s mind.

They were the memories belonging to “Mu Xing.”

The owner of this body was also called Mu Xing, currently a member of the idol boy group “MRC.”

MRC’s agency, Star Entertainment, had once ridden the wave of talent shows to great success, standing as an industry leader. In recent years, though, they’d fallen behind the market and were in decline. In a desperate bid to turn things around, they poured resources into creating this boy group called MRC (aka Miracle).

Compared to the other members—most of whom had either trained overseas or graduated from professional academies—Mu Xing stood out awkwardly.

Before being signed by Star Entertainment, he had never had any contact with the entertainment industry, and knew even less about it than most young people.

The public first came to know him from a video uploaded online.

In it, a young man in a plain T-shirt, barefoot, stood in a creek. With no makeup, he was clean and beautiful, like an elf walking out of the forest—like a summer breeze that brightened viewers’ eyes.

He became an overnight sensation.

#TenMinutesToFindOutEverythingAboutTheGuyInTheVideo# shot to the top of the trending topics list.

Li Xin, then desperately searching for boy group members, immediately found his target. He didn’t care about skills—this face alone was enough to guarantee traffic.

He used every resource he had to get information on Mu Xing before anyone else, and personally drove to the remote mountain village where he found Mu Xing struggling to push home a big white goose that refused to go back.

What followed was all kinds of persuasion.

At first he tried tempting him with fame and fortune, but Mu Xing, who had grown up in the mountains and loved the life there, had no ambition to become a star. When profit failed to sway him, Li Xin turned to emotional appeals—saying that so many people liked Mu Xing, and if they couldn’t see him, they’d be very sad.

Anyone else might not have fallen for it, but Mu Xing had lost his parents young and grown up deep in the mountains, raised with help from the neighbors. He’d gone to school in the same tiny, enclosed village from kindergarten to high school graduation, with the same classmates all the way, meeting few outsiders. His personality could almost be called “naïve.”

Half-coaxed and half-tricked, he left the mountains and signed a two-year contract. Li Xin had wanted a longer one, but Mu Xing, surprisingly, had been firm on this—two years already felt like a long time to him, and he refused to sign for more in a completely unfamiliar place.

Li Xin happily brought him into Star Entertainment and invested heavily in marketing and publicity, making a grand announcement of Mu Xing’s joining the company.

His arrival indeed brought MRC huge popularity. Li Xin thought he’d struck gold, looking at Mu Xing as if at a golden money tree.

But soon he realized that Mu Xing hadn’t been lying when he’d said he knew nothing about the big city or skills like singing and dancing.

Li Xin’s plan had been simple—he didn’t expect stellar skills, just enough to scrape by, as long as Mu Xing could serve as the group’s visual centerpiece, a “flower vase” role.

But this was exactly where things got stuck.

Mu Xing was stiff on stage.

In his eighteen years, he had never received any relevant training, and had rarely been in front of large crowds. He wasn’t used to it—and in fact, he was afraid of it.

MRC’s first public appearance was not a success.

When he was standing on stage, countless eyes fell on him. Mu Xing only felt that those gazes carried the weight of a thousand catties, pressing heavily on him until he couldn’t breathe. The movements he had practiced to perfection instantly became stiff and unnatural.

On stage, even the smallest mistake could be magnified countless times—let alone such an obvious lack of presence?

…

Mu Xing’s memories were not complicated.

The first eighteen years were simple—an ordinary rural life, plain but vivid.

The following year or so seemed much more colorful, but most of the scenes were in shades of gray: endless practice, fear of the stage, his agent’s anger, and the sadness of opening social media to see strings of insults and mockery.

Mu Xing came back to himself and looked at the young man in the mirror, whose gaze was dull and lifeless. He frowned again in puzzlement.

He suddenly raised his hands, rubbed both cheeks hard twice, but still felt something was off.

He was certain that he was also called Mu Xing, but he was not this “Mu Xing” in front of him. When he viewed Mu Xing’s memories, he was purely an observer—without the slightest trace of shared feelings.

But apart from a name and the memories of this “Mu Xing,” his mind was a complete blank.

Who was he, and what was his connection to this Mu Xing?

Mu Xing thought in confusion for a while. When he couldn’t figure it out, he simply stopped thinking about it.

He seemed to have a naturally strong ability to adapt. After examining the person in the mirror for a moment, he decided that this Mu Xing was quite good-looking—he hadn’t lost out—just the makeup was a bit ugly.

He remembered that MRC had just finished a performance at a gala; this was the backstage area.

Mu Xing’s performance, as expected, was unsatisfactory. Li Xin couldn’t even wait to get back before starting to scold him right in the backstage dressing room. The two girls at the door earlier were probably fans who had snuck in.

The dressing room was well-equipped. Mu Xing found some makeup remover and happily washed his face clean.

Just after he finished and stepped out, the dressing room door opened, and Li Xin stormed in.

Seeing Mu Xing’s bare face, he paused for a moment, then immediately snapped, “You still have the mind to remove makeup here? Tonight you dragged the team down—don’t you feel ashamed? Don’t you have any sense of shame?”

These words were very familiar to Mu Xing.

In the original Mu Xing’s memories, this was one of the lines Agent Li Xin most often said to him.

From the start, it had been like brainwashing—repeating over and over: “The company has spent so much money and so many resources on you. You should remember the company’s kindness and work hard,” “I’ve never cared so much about any artist as I do you,” “The fans like you so much, you can’t rest—you have to train hard and never disappoint them.”

Later, when Li Xin finally realized he was a piece of rotten wood and stopped expecting anything, and when Mu Xing’s popularity plummeted—with haters outnumbering fans—Li Xin’s attitude took a drastic turn. His words became pure reprimand:

“Mu Xing, do you have some kind of health problem?”

“You’ve dragged the team down again—don’t you feel ashamed?”

“I can’t stand that dead-pig-not-afraid-of-boiling-water look of yours!”

“Do you know how much money the company has lost on you? Signing you was the worst luck of my life!”

Mu Xing’s personality was simple and sensitive. Under this day-after-day brainwashing, his guilt grew heavier and heavier.

He felt he had failed the company, failed the fans, failed the agent—forcing himself to practice singing until his throat was congested with blood, and to practice dancing until he collapsed from exhaustion in the practice room.

But the harder he pushed himself, the more afraid he became of disappointing others, the more cautious he became on stage, and the more mistakes he made.

Li Xin was not entirely wrong—Mu Xing was indeed sick, suffering from serious psychological problems.

But he himself didn’t realize it, and Li Xin had no patience to deal with him anymore, only thinking about how to squeeze the most out of him before the contract expired.

If it were the original Mu Xing, facing Li Xin’s scolding now, he would have simply lowered his head, meeting it with the usual guilt and silence.

But the Mu Xing now had a different soul inside.

He could very clearly sense the malice of the middle-aged man before him.

He quickly understood the reason and suddenly realized, “Those two girls just now—you didn’t manage to deal with them?”

This was Li Xin’s nature—he liked to bully the weak. If he was this angry now, something must have happened that displeased him. Thinking back to what had just happened, the reason was obvious.

Without thinking, Li Xin cursed, “It’s all trouble you, this useless thing, caused! Those two fans ran off! We still don’t know whose they are. If that video gets out, the company’s reputation will suffer again!”

Li Xin liked to pass the blame. Whenever things didn’t go his way, he’d vent on those around him—and unpopular, meek Mu Xing was naturally the perfect target.

Hearing him say this, Mu Xing was neither surprised nor angry.

But he completely disagreed: “That’s not true.”

“What did you say?” Li Xin glared at him impatiently.

Mu Xing counted it off for him: “First, the rude one shouting insults just now was you—this is clearly trouble you caused yourself.

“Second, you know this place well and always brag about knowing lots of people, but you couldn’t even catch two ordinary female fans who don’t know the area.” He shook his head, looking innocent. “If this gets out, it has nothing to do with me—it just means you’re useless.”

“This pot, I’m not carrying!”

❣╰(⸝⸝⸝꒳⸝⸝⸝)╯❣

Sandy: Wooooo first novel after a long hiatus. Hope you guys love it as much as I do 😘