Another wave of public opinion, riding the hype: Yan Ruanning, an online giant; Xu Ruanning, an offline dwarf

Early that morning, Qin Lie drove Cheng Che out for breakfast.

The car turned into an old alley and stopped outside an unassuming little shop.

Cheng Che stared at the picture of hot pepper soup on the advertising board, then turned to Qin Lie. "Old Qin, didn't you say you were treating me to a local specialty? Isn't hot pepper soup from Yuzhou?"

Qin Lie pointed at the sign. "Look closely."

Cheng Che looked up.

The sign had white lettering on a red background, with bold characters reading: Hang City Authentic Yuzhou Hot Pepper Soup.

He burst out laughing. "That counts?"

"Why wouldn't it?" Qin Lie unbuckled his seat belt and got out. "If the shop's in Hang City, it's Hang City hot pepper soup. If it's in Yuzhou, then it's Yuzhou hot pepper soup. Come on. Their pan-fried buns are unbeatable."

Cheng Che followed him out, thinking that Qin Lie sometimes said things even funnier than Guo Xin did.

The two entered the shop.

It was small, with seven or eight tables, all full.

With practiced ease, Qin Lie ordered two bowls of hot pepper soup, a serving of pan-fried buns, and two fried dough sticks.

Cheng Che lifted his bowl and took a sip. The pepper shot straight to his head, jolting him fully awake.

"How is it?" Qin Lie asked.

"Packs a punch," Cheng Che said.

After breakfast, they headed straight to the Hang City Sports Center.

The Hang City Sports Center was a comprehensive sports complex, with the tennis facilities occupying an entire section in the southeast corner.

Several regulation hard courts lay side by side, with electronic scoreboards courtside and tiered stands all around.

It could not compare to the center courts at top-tier tournaments, but it was already far better than Old Chen's tennis facility.

Registration was in the tennis center's lobby. Cheng Che handed over his ID and registration documents. After checking his information, a staff member handed him a kraft paper bag.

Inside was a light blue sports shirt, with a number printed on the back: 91.

Cheng Che shook it out and looked it over. "Number 91. Pretty lucky."

"Luck doesn't matter. Winning does," Qin Lie said.

They were about to leave when a few comments drifted over from nearby, neither particularly loud nor quiet.

"Who's that? Why'd he bring an assistant coach?"

"He's certainly got the looks. Some influencer here for a staged shoot, probably."

"The bar for this tournament just keeps getting lower. Anyone can sign up now."

Cheng Che did not turn around or even break his stride.

Qin Lie did glance at them before turning back and saying mildly, "Ignore them. Just play your tennis."

"I know." Cheng Che smiled.

He had heard far too much of that over the past few months.

If he could put up with trolls insulting him on his phone, a few sour remarks from fellow competitors were hardly worth his attention.

Not far away, a young man in black sportswear was holding up his phone, taking pictures in Cheng Che's direction.

Afterward, he ducked back and handed his phone to the middle-aged man beside him, sounding a little excited.

"Coach, look at this guy. Know who he is?"

The middle-aged man took the phone and glanced at it.

In the photo, Cheng Che had his head slightly turned as he spoke to Qin Lie.

The angle looked like a street-style shot someone had spent ages lying in wait for, making him look tall and lean, his profile almost excessively sharp.

"With looks like that, he was born to be a commercial star," the middle-aged coach murmured, his words steeped in indescribable envy.

"And that's not all." The young man knew where he stood in the looks department.

He took the phone back, swiped a couple of times, pulled up a few news stories, and handed it over again.

"Cheng Che. Top scorer on the college entrance exam, first in Caiyun Province. That high school student who said, 'Tsinghua or Peking shouldn't be much of a problem.' Now he's in Hang City playing tennis. He's all over the trending searches."

The middle-aged coach took the phone. The more he read, the more unreal it seemed.

"Top scorer? Looks like a celebrity? And he's here to play tennis?" He looked up at the boy in the distance. It took him a long while to say, "What kind of fucking life is that?"

He was not talking about Cheng Che, but Old Qin beside him.

He had instinctively assumed Old Qin was Cheng Che's coach. With everything Cheng Che had going for him, the slightest bit of promotion could make him blow up. Even a coach getting a little of the gravy could rake in a fortune.

He glanced back at the young man, who was almost twenty-eight, his heart overflowing with sour envy.

The young man leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Coach, do you think I could get famous if I beat him?"

The coach shook his head and handed back the phone.

"If you really want to get famous, you'll need to play for a few more years. Men's tennis is a niche sport here. Even when it's on TV, hardly anyone watches. Forget the qualifiers-even if you beat him in the final of the main draw, you wouldn't trend."

"Not necessarily." The young man smiled mysteriously and waved his phone. "Coach, watch me work. This guy's getting loads of attention right now. I'll take a few pictures and post something like 'Ran into the college entrance exam's top scorer at a tournament,' with a punchier headline. The likes will come pouring in, won't they? If he loses, I get to call myself the guy who beat the top scorer. If he wins, I've still ridden his hype. I can't lose either way."

The coach's eyes lit up at that. "You've got a nimble brain on you."

"Of course I do."

With that, the young man raised his phone and snapped two more pictures in Cheng Che's direction before putting it away, thoroughly satisfied.

Cheng Che, meanwhile, knew nothing about any of this.

He was leaving the tennis center with Qin Lie. On the way back to Qin Lie's place, Qin Lie was still going over things he needed to watch out for during the tournament.

Cheng Che listened closely, nodding from time to time.

Meanwhile, in a rural courtyard on the outskirts of Hang City, a slow-paced variety show called "Life Slowed Down" was being filmed.

Yan Ruanning had just finished a full day of filming and was resting in a bamboo chair in a corner of the courtyard.

She had planted vegetables, fed chickens, and cooked with the guests that day. Though tired, she was in good form.

Xiao Zhou brought over a glass of water and sat beside her.

Yan Ruanning took the water without drinking it, looking down at her phone.

There was a photo on the screen.

Cheng Che had just sent it.

He was wearing the light blue competition shirt, standing slightly sideways in a room as he took a mirror selfie.

The shirt fit well, sitting neatly across his shoulders and tapering nicely at the waist.

He had one hand in his pocket and was making a V sign with the other.

[My tournament starts tomorrow.]

Looking at the photo, Yan Ruanning's lips curved up without her realizing it.

"Xiao Zhou." She put down her phone.

"Hmm?"

"Can I take some time off tomorrow?"

Xiao Zhou froze. "Huh? Time off for what?"

"I want to watch a competition," Yan Ruanning said, keeping her tone as natural as possible. "The National Youth Games here in Hang City. Haven't I been writing sports-themed songs lately? I want to gather some inspiration."

Xiao Zhou was even more bewildered.

"The games? What competition? Since when were you interested in sports?"

A trace of awkwardness flashed across Yan Ruanning's face, but she quickly covered it up. "Just to have a look. I haven't had any inspiration for songwriting lately. I need a change of gears."

"Gathering inspiration at the games?" Xiao Zhou eyed her suspiciously. "Sister Ning Ruan, are you sure?"

"Positive." Yan Ruanning stood and pushed the glass back into Xiao Zhou's hands. "Help me ask the director for some time off. Just half a day. Please."

Her unusual behavior left Xiao Zhou rather baffled, but as her assistant, he obediently went.

The director was crouched in front of a monitor reviewing footage. When he heard Xiao Zhou say Yan Ruanning wanted time off to watch the games, his first reaction was to frown.

"Time off? We have several pickup shots to do tomorrow. How are we supposed to film without her? And since when did Ruanning enjoy watching the games?"

Xiao Zhou had no answer either.

"She said she wanted to gather inspiration for sports-themed songs."

The director waved a hand.

"No, no. Tell her she can go out after we finish filming at noon tomorrow. She can't hold up the schedule."

Xiao Zhou acknowledged him and turned to relay the message.

He had just reached the courtyard gate when his phone vibrated.

It was a message from the director.

[Director: Xiao Zhou! Come back! Hurry back!]

Utterly confused, Xiao Zhou retraced his steps.

The director was sitting in front of the monitor, eyes wide, holding his phone in front of him as his finger swiped rapidly across the screen.

"Look at this." He handed over the phone.

Xiao Zhou took it and looked.

A hashtag was trending: #Caiyun Province's College Entrance Exam Top Scorer Cheng Che Competes in Tennis at the National Youth Games#

The accompanying picture showed Cheng Che registering at the Hang City Sports Center.

He wore light blue sportswear, with a tennis bag on his back and sunlight tracing a halo around his profile.

Xiao Zhou's eyes instantly widened.

"Cheng Che? He's in Hang City? And he's competing?"

"You know him?"

The director's eyes lit up. He had thought Cheng Che looked familiar just now, which was why he had called Xiao Zhou back.

Xiao Zhou nodded, his mind racing.

He finally understood what Yan Ruanning had meant by "gathering inspiration."

So coy.

So very coy.

But he did not expose her, merely smiling as he said:

"Yes. We worked with Cheng Che on the 'Midsummer Reply' music video, remember? Sister Ning Ruan personally chose him for the role. Besides, his hometown is right next to hers. Their families are old friends."

"Old family friends?" The director perked up.

Only then did he realize that this handsome young man was Cheng Che, who had gone viral on the strength of a single shot.

Quite a few people had asked for his information, but they had all been turned down.

The director had been busy filming lately and had not looked into it.

Who knew he was this popular?

"Yes. They've known each other since childhood." Xiao Zhou lied without batting an eyelid.

The director slapped his thigh, brimming with excitement.

"That's fantastic! What great material! We wouldn't dare dream of a world champion, but a college entrance exam top scorer, an internet celebrity, and a music video lead? Stack those identities together and the hype goes through the roof!"

He stood and paced back and forth a couple of steps.

"Xiao Zhou, tell Ruanning she can have the whole day off tomorrow! No, half a day! Let her go! Have her take plenty of photos, preferably one with Cheng Che. Imagine if we edited that into the show!"

Xiao Zhou silently griped, You old fox. A moment ago, you wouldn't let her go. Now you've spotted the hype, you've changed your tune.

"Sure, I'll tell her right away."

He took two steps away, then turned back. "Director, Sister Ning Ruan said she's going to gather inspiration."

"I know, I know." The director smiled until his eyes narrowed to slits. "Gathering inspiration, gathering inspiration. For sports songs, gathering inspiration is very important."

Xiao Zhou returned to Yan Ruanning and plopped down beside her.

"Your time off's approved," he said.

Yan Ruanning's eyes lit up instantly, but she still tried to sound composed. "Oh. What time are we leaving tomorrow, then?"

"The director said you could have the whole day off." Xiao Zhou looked at her and said slowly, "Sister Ning Ruan, did you already know Cheng Che was competing in Hang City?"

"What?" Yan Ruanning blushed. "I didn't know."

"Really?" Xiao Zhou handed over his phone. "Then would you like to take a look at this trending search?"

Yan Ruanning looked down.

Cheng Che's registration photo was right there on the screen, tagged with "National Youth Games."

Her face reddened further.

"I'm doing this for work," she insisted.

"Mm-hmm. Work." Xiao Zhou nodded. "Remember to put on your prettiest dress to go work at the tennis courts."

Yan Ruanning nearly choked on a grape.

In a hotel room.

Cheng Che leaned against the headboard, his phone vibrating nonstop.

Guo Xin had sent him a whole string of screenshots, all of trending searches and online videos.

Some marketing accounts said he was "the college entrance exam's top scorer boldly charging into the tennis world." Some independent media accounts were digging into his journey "from academic slacker to top scorer." Others had taken photos of him registering and captioned them, "Even more handsome in person than on video."

His Super Topic community was buzzing, too.

Things like, "My fave isn't just a top-tier beauty and academic ace, he's also a sunny athletic boy!"

Reading them gave Cheng Che goosebumps.

What the hell was "top-tier beauty" supposed to mean?

And the person who had taken that registration photo had joined the fray himself.

His Weibo ID was Zhou Kaiyue, and his verified title was "National Youth Games Tennis Competitor."

He had posted on Weibo, attaching the photo of Cheng Che in the registration lobby.

The accompanying text was quite artfully written.

[Saw Cheng Che at the Hang City Sports Center today.

He looks even better in person than in photos. No wonder he's so popular online. As a newcomer to tennis, I really admire him for setting aside his top-scorer halo to join a grueling tournament like ours. That said, tennis really isn't a sport you can figure out just by being handsome and running fast.

I hope we meet in the first round of qualifiers.

I'd quite like to experience what losing to the top scorer feels like.

And if I win... does that mean I get to bask in a little of an academic ace's glory? Hahaha, just kidding. Anyway, welcome to the world of tennis, Cheng Che.]

Less than half an hour after the Weibo post went up, the comments section exploded, flooded with over ten thousand comments.

"Bro Zhou, that mouth of yours is vicious. You clearly want to ride his wave of popularity, but you make it sound like a welcome speech."

"Hahahaha, I'm with Zhou Kaiyue on this one. He's trained for over a decade, and some internet-celebrity Zhuangyuan shows up thinking tennis is that easy?"

"Let's be fair, so what if he topped the college entrance exam? Ball sports really depend on training from childhood. Taking it up halfway through at his age, he should burn incense in thanks if he can even return a ball."

"Don't be so sour. I've seen the music video he shot with Yan Ruanning. His forehand looked pretty good. He didn't look like he was just messing around."

"What good is a pretty swing? Results are what count in a match. If they meet in the qualifiers, I bet he won't even win two games in any of the three sets."

"I've seen Zhou Kaiyue in tournament livestreams before. He really does have some skills. If he actually beats Cheng Che, just imagining that scene makes me laugh."

"I'm already looking forward to it. Zhuangyuan versus young tennis player-isn't that better than a variety show?"

There were also people speaking up for Cheng Che.

"Seriously, what's your problem? He's just entering a tournament. Is all this sneering really necessary?"

"Cheng Che never said he could win the championship. He's competing fair and square, and losing would be normal too. But this Zhou Kaiyue, posting something like this? He couldn't be more obvious about riding the hype."

"Sure, he's riding the hype, but he's a competitor too. He has the right to talk. If you're so good, go do it yourself."

Guo Xin sent him a message.

[Guo Xin: Does that dumbass Zhou Kaiyue have water in his brain? Calling himself a senior, the old fart!]

[Guo Xin: I think he just wants to get famous. Want to fire something back at him?]

Cheng Che thought for a moment, then typed a reply.

[Cheng Che: No. See him on court.]

Cheng Che sent no further replies.

He put his phone away, folded his match uniform and placed it at the head of the bed, then checked everything he would need tomorrow once more.

Racket, wristbands, tennis shoes, towel, water bottle-nothing was missing.

Then he opened his laptop and watched a match recording Qin Lie had sent him.

It was a quarterfinal in the tennis event at last year's National Youth Games.

Two young players traded heavy shots from the baseline for nearly two hours.

The ball traveled fast, the rallies were long, and the physical toll was immense.

Cheng Che watched intently, pausing and replaying now and then, jotting a few words in his notebook.

As he watched the later stages, he suddenly realized he was actually a little excited.

He really wanted to see what it would feel like to play a match against people who had "seriously been playing for over a decade."

The sky outside the window slowly darkened.

Cheng Che closed his laptop, put his notes and pen away, washed his face, and lay down on the bed.

He closed his eyes.

The night in Hang City was quiet. In the distance, a car passed, its sound as faint as a sigh.

Let the wind howl and the rain lash outside; he would get a good night's sleep first.