Chapter 11: Crashing the Stage—I'm Dead Serious!

Actually, regardless of whether news of the semifinals reached him or not, Fang Xinghe had already prepared to head home.

The second semester of eighth grade was about to begin; he couldn't just keep living up on the mountain.

The next day, he packed his bags and faced the parting.

"Director, I'll be back again this summer vacation!"

The one saying this was Yu Xiaoduo, eyes brimming with tears, utterly reluctant to part.

"Mm, practice well."

Daoist Zhong nodded lightly with his hands clasped behind his back, his wide sleeves fluttering—an air of immortal grace and Daoist poise.

Fang Xinghe cupped his hands before his chest and abdomen, left hand clasping the right, thumbs tucked inward, the other four fingers pressed together, and bowed in a formal salute.

"Director, the grace of your teaching—I would never dare forget it. Please take care."

"Gatherings and partings have their season; no need to dwell on it."

Though that was what he said, Daoist Zhong stroked his beard, held back again and again, and still couldn't help adding one more line:

"Once you're back, don't slack off. When you have the time and the energy, I'll introduce you to the other two major schools of Baji—Meng Village Old Frame and Luotuan Hard Frame. After that, it'll be up to you how far you can take it."

Yu Xiaoduo: So am I actually the one with better bone structure or not? I feel like the treatment gap is a bit much…

Fang Xinghe naturally felt this deep kindness too, so he bowed deeply, holding the gratitude in his heart.

He bade farewell to each senior brother one by one, then set out on the road home.

Another forty hours of travel; by the time he set foot on the county town's soil again, it was already early spring.

Arriving home, he tossed down his things, went to the bathhouse for a thorough scrub—scraping off half a jin of dead skin—and when Fang Xinghe stood before the mirror again, he was unmistakably a strikingly handsome youth of dragonly bearing and phoenix-like poise.

Right after rebirth he had been nothing but an ordinary wild grass; but now—looks at 99, height 174, the skills panel packed full, not a moment wasted.

【Attribute Panel】

Appearance Attributes: Looks 99, Physique 72

Physical Attributes: Strength 54, Speed 80, Endurance 61, Agility 75, Flexibility 73

Hidden Attributes: Coordination 72, Perception 60, Recovery 74, Immunity 61, Health 71

Artistic Attributes: Writing 79

【Skills Panel】

Wudang Taiji Standing Post: 42

Wudang Taiji Thirteen Postures: 33

Basic Swordsmanship: 28

Basic Footwork: 27

Basic Leg Techniques: 25

Meng Village New Frame Baji: 10

Liuhe Great Spear: 12

【Starlight Panel】

【Fans: 128】

【Starlight Value: 4758】

【Stellar Radiance Value: 0】

Fang Xinghe was in his growth phase; every attribute had improved.

However, compared to the explosive rise of his physical attributes, the hidden attributes climbed far too slowly—creeping up one point, two points at a time.

There was probably no way around it: external attributes were simply easier to train, while innate talent was very hard to improve. He could only pin his hopes on Starlight.

Fans, though, were growing fairly quickly—people he encountered in daily life mostly had some goodwill toward him.

But over such a long stretch of time, 128 fans had contributed less than 5000 Starlight—truly pitiful.

And this pointed to an iron law—when nothing is happening, ordinary fans' emotional projection onto an idol is clearly insufficient.

Fair enough; everyone has their own life, why would they think of you for no reason?

Fanatics were, after all, extremely rare.

To solve this problem, he had to have enough works.

With more works, fans could glance through them in their idle moments, and naturally they'd be reminded of him.

The quantity of works could solve the issue of association—that is, trigger frequency—while the quality of works could solve the issue of emotional investment—that is, how deeply one is moved.

When works are both plentiful and good, an artistic life becomes healthy and long-lived.

But there was still one detail in this: plentiful and good works ≠ plentiful and die-hard fans—those were two different things.

The intricacies in between were enough to fill N papers; only Fang Xinghe, who had long been charging at the marketing front line, could sort them out clearly. In this day and age, even the management companies and the stars themselves were still muddled about all this.

So, gazing at his dazzlingly handsome self in the mirror, Fang Xinghe was thoroughly satisfied, deeply feeling that the future held promise.

"The first step has been taken successfully. From here on out, just crash straight through. Go for it, you gorgeous bastard!"

He returned cheerfully to the little courtyard; Baofu and Taodang had long since led the little eagles and snuck in. The moment everyone caught sight of Fang Xinghe, a chorus of exclamations erupted.

Aside from Duoyu, who was already used to it, everyone was utterly stunned.

"Holy shit!"

"Bro, how are you getting more and more handsome?"

"Right! You were handsome before you left, but not this ridiculous…"

"Your eyes even changed color?"

"Oh my god, I can't take it, my heart's pounding like crazy… Your Majesty, do you need a Lady of the Stockade? I can do anything!"

"Get lost, you shameless ugly freak!"

"You're the one who should get lost, bean sprout!"

The two mother eagles had started arguing over nothing, and although it was no big deal, Fang Xinghe still felt guilty.

Sigh, it's all because of this damned charm of mine.

He offered no explanation for his little companions' confusion.

His original 75 looks weren't ugly to begin with, and now that they'd developed bit by bit to their limit, a casual "he grew into his looks during puberty" would be enough to wave it off; even without bothering to explain, no one would guess the truth.

For now, just enjoy looking good.

Besides, the drab clothes and hideous haircut had capped his upper limit by at least 9 points.

Wait till I get myself sorted out, then you'll truly understand what a looks-shock is.

After horsing around for a while, Fang Xinghe treated them to skewers; a dozen-odd half-grown kids plus drinks, and it was settled for just over a hundred yuan.

The cold dishes at this time were genuinely delicious — clearly out-of-season varieties grown in greenhouses, yet the cucumbers were bursting with flavor, and the tomatoes were perfectly sweet-and-sour, soft, and yielding sand; the aroma made Fang Huai's scalp tingle.

Then he couldn't figure it out: with such delicious varieties, why on earth were they phased out?

Never mind — from now on I'll show off two every day.

After the satisfying meal, as they were wrapping up, Bao Fu sidled up and asked: "Bro, there's a new dance hall in the county…"

"What dance hall!"

Fang Xinghe felt the kid was really getting too big for his britches, and slapped the back of his head: "Isn't the computer room enough for you?"

The slightest commotion was picked up by Fang Dagan, who rushed over hopping with excitement: "Take me along! Take me along!"

Fine then, let's all go.

A rowdy dozen-plus marched into what wasn't yet called an internet café.

They booted up the machines and sat down; Fang Xinghe was busy dealing with the clingy Fang Dagan when a familiar yet strange "beep-beep" sounded from not far at the next station.

Huh? Got QQ?

Fang Xinghe turned to ask Zhang Qi: "What's that software for?"

Zhang Qi explained excitedly: "Chatting and making friends! Big bro, I'll install one for you, it's super fun!"

"Sure."

He let him fiddle around, and finally a little penguin called QICQ appeared on the desktop.

After a quick study, Fang Xinghe successfully registered an account — holy cow, five digits, starting with 1, 11588!

Is Tony Ma really doing this badly?

He was laughing when Fang Dagan and the others each set up their own accounts and started adding each other as friends.

Fang Xinghe was clumsily fiddling with the rudimentary software when some clever egg proactively sent him a message: "Hello! Are you a GG or an MM?"

Who is it? Learning this fast.

He casually replied: "I'm a GG."

Then he clicked open the other party's avatar to look… huh? 10001, QQ number one — isn't that Tony Ma's account?

Just as he was dumbfounded, Boss Ma's reply arrived: "What a coincidence, I'm an MM! Hi there."

Pfft!

Fang Xinghe nearly sprayed his iced cola all over the screen, feeling it was absurdly bizarre.

No way, bro, what's your deal?!

He figured it might be a mistake, so he tested the waters: "Really? I don't believe it."

Qiuye: "Really! Don't believe me? Look at my avatar!"

He saw — it had changed from a blue male avatar to a big-eyed female avatar with purple hair.

He's really something else…

Clearly a STEM guy, who gave you the courage to pull this stunt?

Fang Xinghe was laughing his head off, and replied: "Alright then, I'm a street boss, from now on this GG's got your back!"

Qiuye: "Really? You're so awesome! Where are you from?"

Xinghe Canlan: "Everything north of Shanhaiguan is my turf — remember, if you ever need anything done over there, just drop my name, kill whoever you want to kill!"

Tony Ma went silent — probably feeling numb…

Fang Xinghe cackled for a while, then browsed around online checking the news, found it boring, and prepared to head home.

Before leaving, Fang Dagan once again came over all clingy and mushy, pestering him: "When are you heading to Modu? Will you bring gifts for the two of us?"

"Oh, when you want a gift you remember to include Lu Tingting?"

"Well look, we're good sisters!"

"Then you should spend your own money to buy a gift for your good sister — that's called sincerity. And me, as an errand boy, charging a little service fee, that's not too much, right?"

"Huh?!"

The little girl got twisted around by Fang Xinghe's logic, and was about to mull over what was off when the water-army leader deployed his usual trick: "Probably have to leave on the 23rd, the green-skinned train is too slow, real torture."

Fang Fang Yuting felt both lost and heartbroken at this.

"That really is tiring, too bad I didn't make it past the prelims, otherwise I could've gone with you…"

Oh please, thank goodness you didn't make it.

Fang Xinghe's mind was full of silent grumbles; he soothed her and Lu Tingting together like placating little kids, then hurried off.

Thirteen years old! What a sin…

Even at home he couldn't sit still, kept on working.

Fang Xinghe drew two sketches, went to the market and found an old tailor.

"You mean you want a fitted Zhongshan suit?"

The master felt a bit sorry for his money: "But you're still growing, right? Something that fitted, you won't be able to wear it after once or twice!"

Handsome once isn't enough?

Fang Xinghe replied with a grin, "There's an important occasion—I have to dress well."

"Alright then, come pick it up in a week."

The old master tailor sighed, then muttered softly, "Not to mention, this fitted Zhongshan suit without a breast pocket actually looks quite nice…"

What did Fang Xinghe know about fashion design?

It was nothing more than a simple, minimalist, slim-fit Zhongshan suit, paired with a small stand-collar white shirt.

In a later era it would especially show off looks and physique, but here and now… tsk tsk.

I'm dead serious about stealing the show.