The other man’s platinum-blond short hair was slightly disheveled, the corners of his eyes tinged red, his lips pressed tightly together.
Both the mentor and Yao Shan recognized Jiang Yaolin right away and quickly called out greetings.
Hearing their voices, the corners of Jiang Yaolin’s mouth curved upward, as if he were trying to smile. But the upward tilt of his lips failed to form the perfect arc it usually did.
His manager hurried over a few steps behind and spoke up to remind him. “Yaolin, you went into the wrong dressing room. Yours and the lounge are that way…”
The manager pointed in the right direction, then flashed an apologetic smile at the people inside the dressing room. “He didn’t sleep well last night, so he’s not in the best shape.”
After his explanation, he hurried off to catch up with Jiang Yaolin.
Once Jiang Yaolin had backed out, Yao Shan withdrew her gaze.
Realizing that Ji Zhi hadn’t greeted him earlier, Yao Shan spoke up in a voice low enough for only the two of them to hear. “If you run into a celebrity you recognize, it’s still good to say hello. They might not be our collaborator, but you never know when you might cross paths, and building a good relationship never hurts.”
“Besides, some stars are especially sensitive about that sort of thing…”
Ji Zhi nodded quickly.
The reason he hadn’t spoken up earlier was that he’d been stunned the moment Jiang Yaolin appeared.
Ji Zhi’s words from yesterday had clearly left a big impact on him. Every time Ji Zhi had opened the pages for Top Fan No. 3 and the top fan lately, his screen had been flooded with “Big Bro,” to the point where he almost didn’t recognize the word anymore.
But when he checked his phone this time, the message from the other man was surprisingly short:
【Top Fan No. 3: Big Bro, don’t ignore me QAQ】
It felt like a test of Ji Zhi’s attitude.
The message sparked an idea in Ji Zhi’s mind—
This was a perfect chance to put some distance between him and Jiang Yaolin.
Jiang Yaolin had been clinging to him so tightly before, but now he was holding back because of Ji Zhi’s words and couldn’t be as clingy as usual. If Ji Zhi played it a bit cooler, maybe this setback would finally create the space he wanted.
With that in mind, Ji Zhi decided not to reply.
Jiang Yaolin didn’t send any more messages, which gave Ji Zhi hope that he might actually shake off Top Fan No. 3.
After all, Ji Zhi figured the reason Jiang Yaolin was so attached was their near-daily chats. If they spent less time talking, Jiang Yaolin’s attention would naturally shift elsewhere—to other people or pursuits.
Running into him today had been completely unexpected.
Ji Zhi had known Jiang Yaolin was Top Fan No. 3, but since the man had no idea who he was and the production base was huge, the odds of them bumping into each other seemed low. That was why Ji Zhi had come without worry. He hadn’t anticipated Jiang Yaolin barging into the dressing room.
When he sensed Jiang Yaolin’s gaze landing on him, his heart had skipped a beat, and he’d thought the man had recognized him.
Fortunately, Jiang Yaolin had quickly looked away, glancing at the others in the room. It seemed like nothing more than a casual scan.
Only after Jiang Yaolin left the dressing room did Ji Zhi’s racing heart finally settle.
But his appearance had inevitably shifted the conversation in the dressing room toward him.
The other’s speech was rapid-fire, and Ji Zhi struggled to piece together the gist—
This mentor had always been a fan of Jiang Yaolin’s music style and wanted to collaborate, so he often sought him out at the base. Jiang Yaolin, with his experience acting in foreign films, was fluent in the language and always greeted him warmly whenever they crossed paths.
But this time, when they ran into each other on the way, Jiang Yaolin had been just as out of it as when he’d entered the dressing room, lost in his own thoughts. It was only the reminder from his manager nearby that snapped him out of it.
Ji Zhi: !!!
He couldn’t be sure if Jiang Yaolin’s state had anything to do with him or if it was just lack of sleep, as the manager said. After all, he’d already noticed Top Fan No. 3’s erratic schedule.
Either way, with his goal in mind, Ji Zhi resolved to cut back on his replies.
The next day, Ji Zhi headed to the base again.
The production team had rehearsals scheduled that day, and with a class rescheduled at school, Ji Zhi tagged along with Yao Shan to help out. She was thrilled with his attitude and even said that if he wanted to join the company after graduation, she could put in a good word for him.
Compared to the leisurely pace of the day before, Ji Zhi and Yao Shan were much busier now, squeezing in lunch whenever they could.
Ji Zhi had been following Yao Shan backstage to serve as interpreter for one of the mentors.
They were fine-tuning stage details today, so the mentors were reviewing the trainees’ performances and correcting their posture and movements.
When Ji Zhi arrived, one mentor’s group was on stage, while the other mentors and trainees waited backstage.
That’s where he spotted Jiang Yaolin again. Even in a crowd of mentors and trainees, his striking looks stood out, impossible to miss.
Ji Zhi could sense some of the trainees’ gazes lingering on Jiang Yaolin, their expressions a mix of envy and admiration. But Jiang Yaolin ignored them all.
He stood not far away, one hand in his pocket, chatting casually with another mentor.
Seeing Jiang Yaolin reminded Ji Zhi of the messages he’d sent.
There had been quite a few today.
【Top Fan No. 3: Big Bro, good morning =v=】
He hadn’t asked why Ji Zhi hadn’t replied yesterday. Instead, he’d jumped straight into a new topic, his eagerness palpable even through text.
Ji Zhi had been mulling over whether to respond, but once they got to the base and things picked up, he had no time to think about it.
Since Jiang Yaolin had no clue who he was and wasn’t paying him any attention, Ji Zhi relaxed.
Just then, Ji Zhi saw a staff member leading over a foreign trainee who looked mixed-race.
The staff member, who only half-understood the situation, immediately came to Ji Zhi and Yao Shan for translation help.
Ji Zhi quickly grasped what was going on.
It turned out this trainee’s roommate had somehow gotten hold of a new phone after the production team confiscated theirs. He’d already leaked some program details, which this foreign trainee had discovered and reported to the staff.
Ji Zhi’s heart jolted.
Yao Shan had explained the rules during a meeting, so he knew the production team collected all phones to ensure secrecy during filming and to keep trainees focused. They couldn’t contact the outside world except in approved special cases.
The team enforced strict phone controls, with random spot checks. He hadn’t expected a trainee to sneak one in—and worse, leak info, apparently from an insider. Ji Zhi could already imagine the fallout.
Just having a phone was a major violation. If the leak was confirmed, it wouldn’t stop at a warning or reduced screen time; they could be kicked off the show entirely.
No wonder the foreign trainee was so eager to report it—it meant one less competitor.
The accused trainee was summoned too. Faced with the accusation, he flatly denied hiding a phone and dared them to search.
With the two at an impasse, the staff notified the dorm supervisor to check their room.
The search results came back fast: they found a phone.
The trainee was in for punishment now. How severe it would be—whether expulsion or not—depended on what info had been leaked.
The accused trainee looked dumbfounded, his expression suggesting he was genuinely clueless.
After a brief silence, he seemed to realize something and blurted out, “He framed me! I don’t have a phone!”
Ji Zhi hadn’t considered that twist.
But with the cutthroat competition among trainees, framing was plausible.
He recalled his own livestream days, when self-proclaimed scouts had approached him about debuting or joining a survival show. Back then, still under contract with his streaming company and lacking talent for it, he’d turned them down.
Good thing he had, or he might be in this mess now.
As the trainee ranted, he shoved the mixed-race trainee beside him in agitation. The other stumbled back, then shoved right back in anger.
What started as pushing quickly escalated to full-on fighting, too fast for the staff to intervene.
The scuffle erupted so suddenly that Ji Zhi tried to pull Yao Shan back. But before he could, one of their swinging arms caught him hard on the shoulder.
A sharp jolt shot through him, shoving him stumbling backward until he crashed into someone. He turned instinctively to apologize.
But the moment he saw who it was, Ji Zhi froze.
He’d collided with Jiang Yaolin.
The commotion had drawn eyes, and some people were already crowding closer. Jiang Yaolin must have been one of them.
Ji Zhi had already sensed Jiang Yaolin was tall; now, at such close range, it was even more obvious.
Snapping back to himself, Ji Zhi stepped back to apologize.
But as he moved, a hand clamped tightly around his wrist.
Alarm flared in Ji Zhi’s chest, a bad feeling rising.
When their eyes met, he realized the problem—
The reflection in Jiang Yaolin’s pupils showed him without his black-rimmed glasses.
They must have knocked off during the fight; he had no idea where they’d landed.
Ji Zhi instinctively wanted to cover his face, but it was too late.
The moment Jiang Yaolin saw him, confusion flickered across his face. “Big Bro?”
His voice rose at the end, uncertainty lingering.
Ji Zhi reflexively wanted to deny it, but Jiang Yaolin’s eyes widened, his pupils trembling violently. “Big Bro…”
His voice wavered too, as if struggling to contain his excitement, though it still leaked through in the rising inflection.
