Chapter 54

Zhao Yu immediately changed her mind. “Forget it. No thanks. Bye!”

Shen Junyi sidled up in two quick steps. “Come on, I’ll give you the friend discount—half off, how about that?”

Zhao Yu: “Go away!”

Shen Junyi: “You’re not planning to get me for free, are you?”

Xia Yuan hurried over, raising his hand eagerly. “Pick me, pick me, pick me! Sis, pick me! I don’t need a fee! I’ll let you have me for free!”

Zhao Yu waved them off quickly and ducked into the car Lin Zhinan had driven over.

As soon as she got in, Lin Zhinan asked cheerfully, “You guys looked like you were having fun. What were you talking about?”

Zhao Yu: “Where did you see ‘fun’ in that?”

She recounted the whole thing, and Lin Zhinan laughed so hard she slapped the steering wheel. “Now that’s what I call top-tier awareness! But seriously, first figure out the appearance fee for me.”

Zhao Yu rested her temple against the window, watching the night scenery pass by, and sighed mournfully. “I must’ve had water in my brain to even ask him.”

Lin Zhinan thought for a moment. “Actually, I think it’s doable.”

The company had brought up the idea of inviting guests to her concerts a couple of years ago, but Zhao Yu had refused. Her schedule had been packed, and she’d never put much creative flair into her concerts—just stuck to the usual formula. She was starting to worry about audience fatigue.

For her revamped tour next year, bringing in one or two guests to liven things up and try something new wouldn’t be a bad idea.

There weren’t many domestic artists who could hold their own against Zhao Yu’s stage presence. The contrast would be too stark, and most wouldn’t want to play second fiddle on her turf. If she was going to invite anyone, Shen Junyi was genuinely the best choice—both for promo and for stage collaboration.

Zhao Yu thought about it. The last time she’d performed with him was back when she’d just returned to the country, on that variety show Path of Thorns.

Years had passed, and they’d both grown so much. Back then, a simple waist-grab from him could make her heart race. Now, surely, she’d be completely unfazed, right?

A few days later, Zhao Yu went to the company for the concert kickoff meeting. The higher-ups brought up the guest issue again. They’d expected her to refuse like before, but to their surprise, after a moment’s thought, Zhao Yu nodded in agreement.

The company’s preference was for Zhao Yu to bring along one of their newer artists—the exposure from performing at her concert would be huge. They’d been pushing a steady stream of newcomers over the years, but none had reached the heights they wanted. With Zhao Yu starting to transition her career, they naturally hoped to find a replacement for her traffic before she fully moved on.

But the moment they mentioned it, Zhao Yu smiled and politely declined: “I already have someone in mind.”

The higher-up asked, “Who?”

Zhao Yu: “Shen Junyi.”

The staff at the meeting were taken aback. Someone hesitated and asked, “If we’re getting him, the fee won’t be cheap, right?”

Zhao Yu propped her chin on her hand and twirled a pen. “It’s fine. He said he’d give me half off.”

The staff: “…”

She was the company’s top artist, so no one dared to object. Lin Zhinan got in touch with Shen Junyi’s side.

Bi Zhou, who used to guard against Zhao Yu like she was a wolf, now felt a bit awkward around her. His past behavior really hadn’t aged well.

Fortunately, the three biggest traffic stars had barely collaborated over the years, so they didn’t cross paths much, sparing him the embarrassment. But now, suddenly receiving a collaboration offer from Zhao Yu’s team, Bi Zhou felt a little unsettled.

He forwarded the message to Shen Junyi and asked, “Did you volunteer yourself again?”

Bi Zhou knew that his artist had always kept a close eye on Zhao Yu’s career, claiming she was like a little sister he’d watched grow up and that he’d help however he could. Shen Junyi was loyal, and Bi Zhou had let him discreetly pass along resources and recommend partners in the past. But now he was throwing himself into it too???

A concert guest? That would definitely stir up CP fans, and then the solo stans from both top-tier camps would go to war—how terrifying would that be! Fighting one top-tier fanbase, Huo Xi’s, was already consuming most of the Yiren’s energy. If they had to take on Zhao Yu’s fans too, they’d be outnumbered!

But his own golden retriever of an artist seemed thrilled when he saw the message. “She agreed again? Tsk. Says no with her mouth, but her body’s pretty honest.”

Bi Zhou: “…”

After his moment of amusement, Shen Junyi added, “And I don’t have a concert next year anyway. It’d be fun to blow the roof off her stage.”

Over the past two years, as their rival had been transitioning, Shen Junyi had never said much about it, but Bi Zhou could clearly feel the pressure mounting on him. He’d been working much harder on his acting. Making it to the Golden TV Awards nomination this year was proof of that effort.

He’d told Bi Zhou that next year he wanted to focus on film and television, so his concert would naturally have to be cancelled. With so many new faces emerging, it was actually an awkward age for a traffic idol like him. He was in that in-between state—halfway through a transition—and it was tough to figure out the best path forward.

Huo Xi had gone into seclusion for half a year and came back aiming straight for films, with a release due in a few months. It was still unclear how the box office would perform, but taking that step was already half the battle won.

When others were sprinting ahead, even someone walking at a normal pace would start to feel anxious.

Next year, Shen Junyi would probably be holed up on set. With fewer public appearances and less exposure, having a stage collaboration with Zhao Yu to keep the buzz going would be just right.

Bi Zhou never let personal feelings interfere with work, and since this involved Zhao Yu, he didn’t seem to have much say anyway. The collaboration was settled quickly.

Shen Junyi had joked about half price, but in the end, he didn’t ask for any money. Still, Zhao Yu sent him a red packet on WeChat. He opened it—250 yuan.

—Shen Junyi: What’s this supposed to mean? Explain yourself.
—Zhao Yu: It means thank you.
—Shen Junyi: This is how the Zhao family thanks people???
—Zhao Yu: Isn’t it uniquely special?
—Shen Junyi: [You’re no longer the you I once knew.jpg]
—Zhao Yu: [It’s time that changed me.jpg]

…

The concert was scheduled for early June. After the new year, Zhao Yu’s studio made the official announcement, and the Yu Beauties erupted in excitement all over again. The guest news was kept under wraps for now, to be revealed right before ticket sales opened.

After the holidays, the concert entered the approval process. Zhao Yu flew abroad to record a new single, shoot the music video, and do a few magazine covers, then cleared her calendar of everything else she could postpone to focus entirely on preparing for the concert.

Shen Junyi had joined a new production after the new year—a historical adaptation with a cast full of veteran actors. As a guest, he didn’t need to be involved in the whole show. Once Zhao Yu’s team finalized the entire concert flow, they’d coordinate his parts.

By early spring, the flow was set. Zhao Yu sent it to Shen Junyi and asked when he could come back to Beijing for rehearsal.

He was probably busy filming; he didn’t reply until late that night.

—Shen Junyi: No more than thirteen minutes? That’s all the stage time I get?
—Zhao Yu: You do know concert venue fees are calculated by the minute, right? If you go over, are you paying?
—Shen Junyi: So I’m coming as a guest performer, getting no pay, and I have to pay out of pocket too?
—Zhao Yu: If that’s how you want to see it, I can’t help it.
—Shen Junyi: ???

Shen Junyi was genuinely steamed by her casually heartless remark. He shot back, “Just you wait,” and flew back to Beijing in a huff the very next day.

The pink cherry blossoms on the streets were already in full bloom.

It was just past lunchtime when he arrived at the rehearsal studio. He’d driven himself. The moment he stepped out of the elevator, he heard music spilling from the practice room.

Zhao Yu had her regular band. The door was half open. She was wearing a casual pink hoodie, her hair dyed a light ash-blonde from the music video shoot. She held the mic lazily, tilted to one side, half-singing and half-smiling at the bass player as she swayed.

In front of him, she always kept up her guard. Shen Junyi rarely saw her this relaxed and languid—like the fresh green wind of spring, or the drifting cherry blossoms along the street, each petal seeming to float straight into his heart.

For some reason, his hand paused on the door. He stayed there, listening to her finish the entire song.

When the music stopped, she shifted her stance, wrapping both arms around the stand-up mic, resting her chin on her hands, and tilting her head with a smile. “Thanks, everyone. Let’s try the next one.”

Shen Junyi blinked. He glanced at his watch, then turned and walked back the way he came.

Not long after, staff started bringing in lunch.

Zhao Yu assumed her assistant had ordered it and called everyone over to rest and eat. The band members exclaimed in surprise, “Wow, extra today!”

The food was abundant—fish, meat, the works. Zhao Yu was looking over the spread with a bowl of rice in hand when Shen Junyi strolled in through the door, hands clasped behind his head, holding a receipt.

He walked straight up to her and slapped the receipt down in front of her, looking proud of himself. “Remember to reimburse me.”

Before Zhao Yu could say anything, her assistant rushed in with two staff members, panting: “The restaurant was packed today, we waited forever—huh?” The assistant looked around the room. “You guys already have food?”

Zhao Yu glanced at the lunch her assistant had bought, then at the food on the table, and squinted at Shen Junyi, who had frozen mid-pose. “Reimburse?”

Shen Junyi: “…”

In the end, everyone enjoyed an exceptionally hearty lunch. Shen Junyi had already eaten before coming, so he sat gloomily in the drummer’s seat, tapping the kit.

Every time Zhao Yu took a bite, he’d hit a beat, like a percussion accompaniment. She teased him, “Aren’t you going to have some? Otherwise you didn’t eat a thing and can’t even get reimbursed—what a waste.”

Shen Junyi: “Eat in silence! Just eat your food!”

Zhao Yu was dying of laughter.

His schedule was tight, so since he was here, they had to rehearse his parts first. After lunch, the musical director called them both over for a quick meeting and walked through the details of Shen Junyi’s segments.

As a guest performer, he had two parts. One was a two-song collaboration with Zhao Yu, and the other was a solo performance of one song. The total time for all three had to stay under thirteen minutes—concert venue fees really were calculated by the minute, tens of thousands per minute, and every second had to be planned in advance.

Once that was confirmed, the next step was song selection. His solo was easy—just pick one of his new tracks, which doubled as promotion. The tricky part was the collaboration, since the options were practically endless.

The musical director suggested, “For the two collaborative pieces, picking one song from each of you would work perfectly.”

Zhao Yu was still agonizing over it when Shen Junyi said, “I pick ‘By’.”

Zhao Yu disagreed. “We already performed that before. It’s not fresh.”

Shen Junyi: “Don’t you get the ‘back to our youth’ vibe? And performing it now would be totally different from before!”

Zhao Yu: “How is it different?”

Shen Junyi paused, then casually let his gaze drift down to her waist.

Zhao Yu: “???!!!”