Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 19

The programs broadcast on satellite TV channels at night, unless they are so popular that everyone is eager to watch them live by any means necessary, usually only start to see a real peak in discussions after noon the next day, or even in the evening.

Since more and more people are no longer accustomed to watching live broadcasts on TV, they prefer to wait until the show is over and then watch the full version on online platforms. They can drag the progress bar to rewatch or skip sections as they please, and if the show isn’t enough, they can even add to the fun with live comments.

For the whole day of February 15^th, aside from the show’s team releasing some cut footage to capitalize on the buzz, the five guests of the show remained silent. Their Weibo accounts mostly had posts from the previous evening, before the show aired, with content clearly promoting the show and sharing the anticipation of the premiere with their fans.

Beneath this surface calm was a collective wait-and-see from the stars’ teams. Experienced PR and marketing teams know that unless you’re only after short-term attention, you should never speak out at the peak of public opinion. For example, between a star who fights back against netizens and one who lets them mock without a word, it’s clear who’s more likely to stir up netizen backlash and who’s more likely to gain their sympathy.

Of course, fans can say, “Why shouldn’t a star fight back?” or “I like my idol’s authenticity,” but objectively, such actions actually affect the perception of neutral observers.

The general public doesn’t care about the intricacies of celebrity feuds; they just want entertainment. If a star can take mockery and criticism lying down, even if they’re full of flaws, they’re seen as likable.

Sometimes, through this mockery, they can even turn haters into fans. Conversely, if a star is constantly fighting with netizens, even if their anger is justified, they will be labeled as overly sensitive by the public.

After all, most people think that if you enjoy the huge benefits of being a public figure, you should also endure some of the unique hardships, including but not limited to being criticized, blackened, fantasized about, or turned into memes.

It’s not about whether such thinking is right or wrong; the public doesn’t need anyone to teach them how to behave. They simply follow their emotional logic, and sometimes, after a two-second rant and a scroll through their feed, they forget about it.

But management teams do summarize, analyze, and speculate, eventually deducing effective public relations rules. First, for serious issues affecting the star’s image, like marriage, dating, fighting, or scandals, if there’s no solid proof, the first step is to issue a firm denial.

Second, for issues that somewhat affect the image but are essentially true, like poor acting, overuse of stunt doubles, or questionable quality of films, TV shows, and variety shows, the strategy is to avoid forced whitewashing*. Instead, subtly shift the focus to other aspects to mine the star’s likability and gradually shift the focus, thus quelling public opinion or even turning it positive.

*Deliberately mislead people in various ways, causing them to forget a celebrity’s bad past.

Finally, for issues that don’t affect the star’s image, or rather, hot topics completely unrelated to the star, unless necessary, PR teams usually advise against capitalizing on them. Especially if the topic involves other celebrities, a successful association might earn a reputation for being decisive, but a failed one can backfire.

Now, the other four teams were facing a combination of the second and third scenarios.

Regarding the questionable reception of the show, they were watching and waiting. After all, only the first episode had aired, and there hadn’t been a wave of severe criticism—just comments about it being somewhat bland. However, there were occasional highlights that surprised the audience, so fans were still looking forward to the second episode, and many neutral viewers were willing to give it another chance.

For Ran Lin, caught in a storm of criticism, they were even more cautious. The comments were too one-sided, and this had nothing to do with Ran Lin’s actions but rather the trouble caused by his small fan base. What could have been a two-way fight ended up being a collective condemnation. The little support for Ran Lin was completely drowned out, and with his history of controversial news and buying hot searches, his team’s silence now proves that they know it wasn’t wise to confront directly, but to outsmart. Therefore, the other four must not jump out at this time, or they would become easy targets—more exciting than an 18^th-tier celebrity without a fan base standing up for Ran Lin.

If they did, it wouldn’t just be a battle between fans of the show, neutral viewers, and fans of the celebrities. Teams from competing shows and stars vying for the same image and resources would also join in, both openly and secretly, hoping to strike down their competitors and benefit themselves in the chaos.

However, as clever as these star teams may be, they are still human. They can’t perfect every detail or foresee every future. Sometimes they even struggle to control their own stars and have to clean up after their impulsive actions.

Wang Xi picked just such a detail, contacting the most suitable person.

“What do you want us to do? Can you tell us again?”

Yao Hong was in the airport lounge with Lu Yiyao, waiting to board their flight, when she received the call from her “former colleague”.

Lu Yiyao’s schedule for the year was almost non-stop. Like today, right after a magazine shoot, they had to rush to the airport for a flight to Hangzhou. Tomorrow morning, there was a fan meeting there, and in the afternoon, they had to fly back to Beijing immediately for a dinner party hosted by a well-known director. These kinds of dinners often last till late at night, so as soon as it ends, they would have to rush to the airport for the earliest flight to Shanghai to start recording the fourth episode of <National First Love Drifting Story>.

If you were to ask where Lu Yiyao spends most of his time throughout the year, apart from hotels, it would be airports.

Initially, Lu Yiyao didn’t pay much attention to Yao Hong’s call, but when she looked at him and then moved to a more secluded spot to continue the conversation, it became intriguing.

“I’m saying, the fourth episode is being recorded the day after tomorrow, so everyone can jointly post a promotional Weibo tomorrow. After all, the negative reception of the show doesn’t benefit your Lu Yiyao either. Even if the relationship between the guests isn’t great, it’s better to appear harmonious on the surface.” Wang Xi, uncharacteristically devoid of her usual sharpness, spoke with all the respect of a junior to a senior.

Yao Hong had always thought that if Wang Xi had been this adaptable back in their days at Pentium, perhaps it would have been her who left. Yao Hong was a year older than Wang Xi but entered the industry much earlier. So, when both were at Pentium, Wang Xi was dead set on ousting her to become the top agent. However, due to her abrasive personality and conflicts with the higher-ups, Wang Xi eventually left.

Yao Hong didn’t like Wang Xi’s personality but always acknowledged her capabilities.

“I know your Ran Lin is getting heavily criticized, but having Lu Yiyao attract attention now isn’t very fair.” Yao Hong would have politely refused and then hung up if it were anyone else, but because it was Wang Xi, she felt the need to listen more.

Wang Xi seemed to anticipate Yao Hong wouldn’t hang up and continued in a calm, progressive manner. “I don’t need Lu Yiyao to stand up for Ran Lin, but as a guest on the show, promoting it is certainly not illegal, right?”

Yao Hong: “What do you want him to promote?”

Wang Xi: “The recording is on the 17^th, so everyone will be heading to Shanghai tomorrow night, the 16^th. At that time, post a Weibo with the topic of <National First Love Drifting Story>, something like ‘starting our fourth journey’, and tag the other four guests and the show’s team. How about that?”

Yao Hong: “Flawless.”

Wang Xi: “You understand best, Hong Jie.”

Yao Hong rolled her eyes, unsure whether to be angry or to laugh, but kept her emotions to herself. Returning to business, she said, “It’s indeed harmless to post such a Weibo, but if Lu Yiyao doesn’t post, it seems it wouldn’t make much of a difference. At such times, doing less is better than doing more.”

Wang Xi had anticipated this response. She would have had the same considerations, but Yao Hong was too conservative. Conservatism meant stability, but too much stability meant no surprises. “Have you considered that if Ran Lin’s reputation improves in future episodes, or even just gets a bit better, people will criticize your silence now, disappointing both fans and neutrals?”

“They’re already disappointed with the show.”

“But then, they’ll be disappointed with the silent guests themselves. Lu Yiyao doesn’t need a reality show; ratings don’t matter to him, but if his image collapses, how will you salvage it?”

Yao Hong paused before asking, “Do you really have that much confidence in Ran Lin’s turnaround?”

Wang Xi knew Yao Hong was seriously considering her suggestion. She just needed to reassure her. “I can’t guarantee Ran Lin’s turnaround, but as you said, posting or not posting the Weibo doesn’t affect Lu Yiyao. So why not add an extra layer of insurance to his image?”

Yao Hong pondered even longer this time. Wang Xi had patience and would wait in silence.

After a while, Yao Hong finally spoke again, not directly responding but half-jokingly, half-seriously saying, “Somehow I feel that if we stay silent and Ran Lin’s reputation improves, you’ll lead the charge to tear down people’s images…”

Wang Xi was taken aback, surprised at the misinterpretation. “I absolutely don’t mean that. You’re more experienced than me. I can’t play games with you. I genuinely want a win-win for both sides…”

“No need for a win-win. Separate wins are fine,” Yao Hong subtly reminded her. Since Wang Xi hadn’t tied Lu Yiyao to controversies recently, she left it at that. “But it’s ultimately Lu Yiyao’s Weibo. What he posts is up to him. I’ll explain the pros and cons to him. Thanks for your reminder.”

“Wait before hanging up.” Wang Xi sensed the conversation ending and seized the last chance. “Let me add one more thing…”

Yao Hong leisurely said, “Yes, go on.”

Wang Xi: “The other three teams are definitely watching too. They’re afraid of getting burned, but they also don’t want the show to flop. So, if someone takes the lead, I think they’ll be willing to follow. Creating a united atmosphere and image benefits both the show and the guests.”

Yao Hong became curious. “Then why don’t you approach the other agents? If they take the lead, Lu Yiyao will follow.”

Wang Xi immediately responded, “They don’t have your breadth of experience and insight.”

Yao Hong rubbed her temples, feeling overwhelmed. “Are you trying to make up for all the compliments you owe me from the past…”

In the end, Yao Hong didn’t commit to posting the Weibo. Wang Xi hung up, her smile fading to a more tired and serious expression. She wasn’t sure if Yao Hong would convince Lu Yiyao to post. Despite her confident words on the phone, if one thought about it, the situation wasn’t as straightforward as she made it seem.

If Ran Lin truly turned his reputation around, the four who neither supported nor criticized him would be called out, but it wouldn’t be a character-breaking level of criticism. In the end, Ran Lin’s influence and status weren’t enough.

Her bet was on Yao Hong, a classic “mother hen” agent who was extremely protective of her artist.

“Ran Lin’s agent called.” Returning to the sofa, Yao Hong shared the answer with Lu Yiyao before he could ask.

Lu Yiyao was inwardly surprised, with a mix of other subtle emotions passing quickly—too fast to distinguish between anticipation and curiosity—but he remained cool on the surface. “Does she need something from you?”

“Not from me, but from you.”

Yao Hong took the lid of the thermos cup on the coffee table—filled with water after passing security, now lukewarm—drank it steadily, capped it again, put the thermos back in her bag, and then relayed Wang Xi’s call to Lu Yiyao.

For the first time, Lu Yiyao discovered that Yao Hong’s methodical nature could be quite grinding. What frustrated him more was that he couldn’t show his impatience. No, he didn’t even know why he was impatient. Was it just because he wanted to see if Ran Lin’s reaction matched the miserable scenario he had imagined all day?

“Just… like that?” After listening to Yao Hong’s account, Lu Yiyao realized that there was no news about Ran Lin from beginning to end, only an exchange of experiences and strategic considerations between the management teams.

Yao Hong detected a hint of disappointment in her artist’s tone but couldn’t understand why. “What else did you think she would say?”

“Oh, no.” Lu Yiyao quickly regained his composure, correcting himself. “I mean, they just want me to post such a Weibo?”

Yao Hong, somewhat exasperated, wondered why her artist suddenly seemed naïve. “Asking you to post is already quite presumptuous, let alone if the content is risky. Who would listen to her?”

Lu Yiyao nodded, asking, “What do you think, Hong Jie?”

Yao Hong sighed, analyzing sensibly. “Right now, Ran Lin is being criticized so harshly that if he has any standout moments in the show, his reputation could easily rebound. A turnaround isn’t impossible.”

Lu Yiyao: “So, should I still post this Weibo?”

Yao Hong pondered for a moment, then shook her head slightly. “It’s not absolute. Ran Lin’s side definitely hopes you post as soon as possible, hence the timing before the night of the 17^th‘s recording. But the second episode airs on the 21^st, and we’ll definitely have to cooperate with the show’s team for promotion before that. Posting then and tagging everyone isn’t too late.”

“But it would be late for Ran Lin.” Lu Yiyao understood the situation after Yao Hong’s explanation.

“Yes.” Yao Hong knew Lu Yiyao got it. “A week without interaction is enough to pin him with an unpopular label. It’ll be hard to restore credibility later.”

“So,” Yao Hong left the decision to her artist, “it’s up to you what to do.”

……

On the evening of February 16^th, exactly forty-five hours after the first episode’s premiere, Lu Yiyao updated his Weibo—

[Shanghai, I’m here! #NationalFirstLoveDriftingStory @XXSatelliteTV @Gu Jie @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen]

The Weibo post was short, with a photo of Lu Yiyao’s tall figure under the Oriental Pearl Tower taken six months ago.

Before fans and onlookers could react, Zhang Beichen’s Weibo followed up twenty minutes later—

[I arrived early 😝//@Lu Yiyao: Shanghai, I’m here! #NationalFirstLoveDriftRecord @XXSatelliteTV @Gu Jie @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen]

At 8 p.m., Xia Xinran’s Weibo belatedly chimed in—

[I strongly demand a visit to Disneyland 🤪 🤪 🤪 #NationalFirstLoveDriftRecord @XXSatelliteTV @Gu Jie @Lu Yiyao @Ran Lin @Zhang Beichen]

The accompanying photo showed Mickey and Minnie Mouse holding hands and spinning around.

At 8:14 p.m., it was Gu Jie’s turn—

[Every drift makes the biceps on my arms brighter 😎 #NationalFirstLoveDriftRecord @XXSatelliteTV @Lu Yiyao @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen]

The photo was a close-up of Gu Jie rock climbing from the first episode.

At 8:19 PM, it was Ran Lin—

[I have a secret strategy 🐶 #NationalFirstLoveDriftRecord @XXSatelliteTV @Gu Jie @Lu Yiyao @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen]

The picture captured the trust fall from the first episode, with Ran Lin falling backwards from a height into the arms of his fellow participants.

At 8:32 PM, Zhang Beichen again—

[Running with the waves~ #NationalFirstLoveDriftingStory @XXSatelliteTV @Gu Jie @Lu Yiyao @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran]

The accompanying photo was of Shanghai’s Bund.

—At this point, the formation* was complete.

*Clarity: In terms of social media, this is a slang term referring to the coordinated or collective action of a group of people, especially in terms of posting online, commenting, or responding on social media.

No matter the reception of a show or the internal relationships, maintaining a united and friendly front is essential. Many onlookers and casual viewers aren’t solely looking for negativity; it’s just that negative content more easily prompts them to comment. As soon as a bit of positivity is released, regardless of its authenticity, they’re willing to buy into it.

However, fans, with their discerning eyes, see through all these promotional tactics, refusing to be fooled! Thus, objective analysts continue to analyze, front-liners continue their assault, and of course, there are the peaceful fans who focus on adoring their idols for a hundred years.

In the entertainment industry, every word and action can start a trend and influence public opinion, good or bad. Like throwing a stone into a river, it starts with a “plop”, but gradually, ripples spread out.

But these effects require time to ferment. And Ran Lin was still oblivious to all this.

Half an hour before Zhang Beichen posted his final formation Weibo—at 8 p.m., Xia Xinran was still editing his Weibo, and Wang Xi had just returned from visiting Han Ze’s set, pulling out her phone, which had been neglected all afternoon and evening.

“…Since we decided to post, couldn’t you remind me so I wouldn’t die?” Seeing the timing of Lu Yiyao’s post, Wang Xi was beyond exasperated. Sure enough, she and Yao Hong would never see eye-to-eye.

But Lu Yiyao’s Weibo tagging was impressively meticulous, arranged alphabetically by surname, showing incredible attention to detail.

After going through Lu Yiyao’s Weibo, Wang Xi checked the other three guests’ accounts. Except for Zhang Beichen, there was no activity from the others. Zhang Beichen’s interaction wasn’t what she wanted. Such one-on-one interactions were meaningless for Ran Lin unless he was the one being tagged, but obviously, the reply was to Lu Yiyao.

Frustrated, Wang Xi saw Xia Xinran’s Weibo pop up on her homepage.

Seeing that formation, she almost wanted to kiss Xia Xinran through the screen. That’s why not just any genuine personality can thrive like Xia Xinran. You see him being carefree, but you buy into his freedom; that’s not just compatibility; it’s his intelligence, with a bit of natural audience appeal.

With Xia Xinran’s assist in queuing, the rest became easier.

Wang Xi immediately called Ran Lin.

After a long ring, the call was finally answered. The voice, though not particularly energetic, wasn’t as downcast as imagined. “Xi Jie?”

Wang Xi felt slightly relieved and returned to her usual assertive tone. “Why did you take so long to answer?”

Ran Lin said, “I was studying strategies.”

Wang Xi frowned. “What?”

“Uh, the Disneyland map, and some strategies written by people who’ve been there. Just in case it comes in handy…”

Wang Xi laughed. “Looks like you’re really gearing up for a fight, all spirited.”

The other end finally laughed. “All forced by the show’s team.”

“Alright, back to business.” Wang Xi became serious. “No matter what you’re doing now, put it down and immediately post a Weibo. The format should be…”

“Promotion?”

Wang Xi frowned; it was rare for Ran Lin to interrupt someone while they were speaking. “Yes, why? Don’t you want to post?”

“No.” There was a moment’s hesitation on the other end. “I’ve already uninstalled Weibo. If it’s for promotion, could you post it for me?”

Wang Xi was taken aback by the unexpected answer. After a two-second pause, she said, “It’s not just for promotion…”

The context was a bit complex, and Wang Xi didn’t know where to start explaining, especially since she wasn’t fond of giving explanations.

“It’s okay, Xi Jie, you handle it. I… want to take a break from Weibo for a while.”

“Alright then.”

Wang Xi didn’t know what else to say. Compared to explaining, she was more amateurish at persuading.

After hanging up, Wang Xi was about to ask the publicity team to work overtime but hesitated before dialing. In the end, she decided to log into Ran Lin’s Weibo herself and post the formation.

Within the next fifteen minutes, Zhang Beichen finally caught up, completing the formation.

Wang Xi, who had been staring at her phone for a long while, finally felt accomplished.

“Learn a bit from Xia Xinran.” Pointing at Zhang Beichen’s avatar, Wang Xi muttered to herself, giving him a lesson in absentia.

At the same time, Lu Yiyao, sneaking a break from the increasingly lively dinner party under the pretense of visiting the restroom, was hiding in the washroom, browsing Weibo.

He didn’t know why, but ever since posting that “Shanghai, I’m here,” he kept wanting to open Weibo every so often.

Finally, his homepage showed the activity he was looking for.

“Secret strategy…” Lu Yiyao stared at Ran Lin’s avatar in the white shirt, falling into a murmuring contemplation. “Did the show team give him spoilers?”

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