The classic leaked set photo of Ying Qi leaning against a wall and gazing up at the sky, and the character portrait of Meng Zhen standing outside the imperial study in a black yesa robe.
There was also a secretly taken side profile of him on the basketball court, a candid shot of his back as he queued with a tray in the cafeteria, and even the original nine-photo grid of historical-costume set leaks that had first earned him a little popularity, which someone had dug up.
For a newcomer without a notable work to his name, this level of attention was simply absurd.
But when a big company wanted to promote someone, it could happen overnight.
Stars Entertainment's operations team quietly gave things a push, several leading marketing accounts put their weight behind it at once, and the buzz around the topic snowballed.
Song Shi'an knew nothing of what had happened that night. He was sound asleep.
When his ringing phone woke him in the morning, he felt around for ages without even opening his eyes before finally finding it. He swiped to answer, his voice a little hoarse. "Hello?"
The other end of the line went silent for quite a while.
Then a male voice, striving to remain composed, came through. "Hello, I'm your manager, Ji Shuyao. Do you have time to meet in a bit? There are some things we need to discuss."
Song Shi'an blearily opened his eyes, glanced at the time on his phone screen, then at the profile picture on the call screen, and said, "Sure."
"Let's meet right downstairs from your dorm in a bit." Ji Shuyao paused, his tone becoming a little peculiar. "Going out might be a little inconvenient for you today."
"What's inconvenient?"
Ji Shuyao did not explain. He merely said, "You'll know when you get here," then hung up.
Song Shi'an stared at the ended-call screen on his phone, his brain a bowl of mush.
What did he mean, inconvenient? What could possibly be inconvenient for him? How inconvenient could going out even be?
He yawned, climbed out of bed, and got ready to collect his clothes from the balcony and wash up.
Their dorm room was on the second floor, with the balcony facing the walkway below. Wearing his little bear pajamas, washed somewhat pale, with his hair a bird's nest, Song Shi'an groggily pushed open the balcony door.
About seven or eight people stood downstairs, both men and women, all holding up their phones and aiming them at the second floor.
A scream sliced through the morning silence.
"Song Shi'an!!! It's Song Shi'an in the flesh!!!"
"Oh my god, he looks so cute in pajamas!!!"
"He's looking at me! He's looking at me!!!"
Song Shi'an looked down at his little bear pajamas, then at the array of cameras below, and his brain crashed for two whole seconds.
Then, moving faster than he ever had in his life, he snatched his clothes off the drying rack, retreated inside with them in his arms, and shut the balcony door behind him, all in one fluid motion.
Good heavens, he was in his pajamas! He'd just grabbed that pair at a supermarket after transmigrating here, and the little bear pattern had nearly washed off!
Jiang Ye was woken by the screams and poked his head down from the top bunk, his eyes not fully open yet. "What's wrong, Shi'an? Who's shouting downstairs?"
Song Shi'an clutched the clothes to his chest and tried to keep his voice calm. "Nothing, nothing. I have something to go out for in a bit. You guys go back to sleep."
Chi Xun rolled over and mumbled, "You've got one of your pajama buttons done up wrong," then fell dead asleep again. Song Shi'an looked down, and sure enough, he did.
He hurriedly washed up, changed, put on a mask and baseball cap to cover himself thoroughly, and added a pair of nonprescription glasses. Then he furtively opened the door and peered down both ends of the hallway, only darting out after confirming no one was there.
He had just stepped out of the dorm building and had not yet had time to survey his surroundings when a hand reached out of a black minivan parked nearby, caught his arm with perfect accuracy, and hauled him inside.
The instant the door shut, the vehicle pulled away.
Song Shi'an sat in the back seat, still shaken, his brain stuck on "Who am I? Where am I? What just happened?"
The person beside him offered him a bottle of mineral water, his voice steady. "Hello, I'm Ji Shuyao."
Song Shi'an turned his head.
Sitting beside him was a man who looked to be in his early thirties, wearing a well-tailored dark gray suit, gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, his hair meticulously combed.
Everything about him, from his tie to his cufflinks, radiated the words "I am a professional." Compared with his WeChat profile picture, he looked even more like someone here to sign a merger agreement in person.
Song Shi'an took the water, removed his mask, and let out a long breath. "Hello, I'm Song Shi'an. What's going on? What's with those people downstairs?"
Faced with his features at close range, Ji Shuyao froze for a beat with the documents held in midair, then quickly averted his gaze. Only after two light coughs did he recover his usual professional tone. "Nothing major. The company announced your signing last night, and someone posted your photos in the comments. The buzz grew a little faster than expected. Those people downstairs were fans who came after hearing the news. There weren't many, only seven or eight. It's not a big problem."
He handed over a neatly bound document. "Today, I mainly wanted to discuss your current career plans and direction. This is a preliminary proposal the company developed specifically for you, including your public persona, content direction, and plans for connecting you with future resources."
Song Shi'an took the document, opened it to the first page, and immediately knitted his brows.
"A contrasting, black-bellied tease..." He read it out word by word, then looked up at Ji Shuyao. "What the hell is all this?"
He closed the document and handed it straight back. "No thanks. I'm fine the way I am."
Ji Shuyao did not take it. He adjusted his glasses, the reflected light hiding his eyes, but the curve of his lips did not shift an inch. "These are all proposals specifically tailored by the data analysis team based on your looks, your current popularity, and gaps in the market. A contrasting, black-bellied tease is currently the rarest type on the market, and you happen to..."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over Song Shi'an's face.
"You happen to have a face perfectly suited to luring people in."
Song Shi'an looked down and thought for a moment, then looked up at his own reflection in the window before turning to Ji Shuyao with an utterly sincere expression. "What does luring people in mean? Like fishing? Do I look like a fisherman?"
The vehicle fell silent for three whole seconds.
The assistant driving had shaking shoulders. In the rearview mirror, she could be seen biting her lip, her face flushed bright red from holding it in.
Ji Shuyao took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and rubbed his temples.
He had worked in this industry for eight years, managing film emperors, top stars, newcomers who shot to fame overnight, and veteran actors who toiled for ten years before making it.
He had thought he had already seen every type of artist.
But he had never seen someone who looked like this ask him, with such sincere eyes, "Do I look like a fisherman?"
"Luring people in doesn't mean fishing." Ji Shuyao opened his eyes.
"Then what is it?"
"It means being elusive, keeping people guessing, making them want to get close without letting them, giving off a sense of distance and mystery."
Song Shi'an nodded thoughtfully, then said, "My roommate Pei Zhiyan is exactly like that. Do you want to sign him?"