After Exploding in Popularity from a Talent Show, I’m Openly Teased and Secretly Doted on by an Obsessive Big Shot - Reviews

【ccc: Add twenty percent commission.】 【Today I Also Want to Destroy the World: Deal!】 I literally laughed out loud at this exchange. The fact that both parties thought they were scamming each other and then immediately logged off like 'nope, too good, gotta go' is the funniest character moment in this entire chapter. Gu Nanci's inner monologue about feeling like she asked for too little—she's a literal music legend reborn into a body everyone hates and she's still second-guessing herself over a million-yuan deal. That's not insecurity, that's just her being human despite her talent. And then Wen Jiuyi! This guy who was supposed to drag her to practice shows up early and gets called lazy by HER. The power dynamic shift in that scene is everything. She's not the same person who couldn't even look people in the eye for two years. Fu Zhi is the only adult in this chapter who actually seems to care about her as a person rather than a product, and I love him for it. But the real character depth here is Gu Nanci herself—her past life death, her regret about dying alone, her determination to not waste this second chance. Every interaction she has now is filtered through someone who has literally died before and come back.

I keep coming back to this performance-based contract that Xi Ruqian drops like a bomb at the end of their confrontation. Less than a year left. The original owner's brother apparently signed it, but it's binding on Gu Nanci now. This isn't just a plot device — it's a symbol for everything wrong with the entertainment industry. The contract represents the ultimate commodification of a human being. Xi Ruqian has been treating Gu Nanci as a product, and this contract is the legal proof of it. He says it himself: "If your idea of alignment is being an emotionless commodity for you to manipulate, I can't agree." The word "commodity" is doing so much work here. She's not a person to him — she's an asset that was supposed to generate black publicity, a tool for controversy. And then there's the creative freedom theme, which is woven throughout this entire section. Gu Nanci spends a whole day in the recording studio and Cheng Yang assumes she's slacking off — because in this industry, visible effort (sweating in a dance studio, practicing vocals) is what counts as work. But she's actually creating. She writes an original song in ONE DAY. From lyrics to composition to arrangement. "Even capitalists would shake their heads and curse how ruthless it was!" The text literally says this. She's not just performing — she's creating, and that's her act of rebellion. The song she chose, "Punishment," is also symbolically rich. A song about punishment, being performed by someone who's been punished by public opinion, by false rumors, by an exploitative contract. And she wants to rearrange it — to take something that was written for a solo artist and make it work for a group. That's metaphorically perfect. She's taking something that was designed to constrain her and reshaping it into something that serves her. The online bashing, the hot search topics, the official media stepping in — all of this is the external manifestation of the same system that produced the contract. The industry eats people alive, and Gu Nanci is fighting to survive it on her own terms.

Okay so let me just say this — the way this chapter sets up the entire revenge arc is *chef's kiss*. Gu Nanci walking into that studio and literally mouthing "Get lost" to Gu Xiao? I SCREAMED. Like, this is the moment where the plot shifts from "oh poor victim" to "oh shit, she's actually the predator now." The confrontation scene is perfectly constructed. First, we get the buildup — Gu Xiao's internal monologue about how unfair it all is, how Gu Nanci is "just the child of a lowly woman." Classic villain self-sabotage right there. Then Gu Nanci doesn't even stand up. She just... waits. Lets him come to her. And when he grabs her collar, she flicks his wrist like she's swatting a fly. The power dynamic has completely flipped and the text makes you FEEL it. But here's what really got me — the line: "I should have been at the place you arranged, waiting to be photographed in compromising positions and ruined, right?" This is the first time we get a concrete glimpse of what happened in the past life. The framing attempt. The betrayal. It's dropped casually into a whisper but it carries the weight of an entire backstory. And then immediately after: "Don't worry, this is just the beginning. How does it feel to have your dreams shattered?" The plot is moving at a ruthless pace. Every scene advances either the revenge storyline or the competition storyline or both simultaneously. Fu Zhi noticing Gu Nanci and marking her for "special attention" is a great subplot seed — it sets up industry recognition as a future conflict vector. And the fact that Gu Nanci's three trending topics just skyrocketed the show's popularity? That's plot mechanics at its finest. The story is using real-world logic (social media virality) to drive narrative momentum. The only thing I'm slightly worried about is whether the revenge plot will get too one-sided. Gu Xiao is already being thoroughly dismantled. But then again, the text mentions "the pain from those solid dozen blows still lingered all over her body" — so the physical cost is real. The plot isn't letting her off easy. I respect that.

I need to talk about Cheng Yang because this chapter absolutely wrecked me in the best way. Let's be real—when Gu Nanci first showed up in this group, nobody trusted her. She's the "pretty but useless" member with a reputation that precedes her like a curse. And Cheng Yang? He's the leader, the one holding everything together, and he's the one who has to make the call. So when he looks at her and says "Either don't do it, or do it to the best of your ability. We're all cut from the same cloth"—that's not just a plot decision, that's a CHARACTER REVELATION. He's saying: I see you. I see that you care about this as much as I do. And that matters more than your reputation. And then Wen Jiuyi! Oh my god, Wen Jiuyi. The guy who immediately starts stuffing snacks into her face like she's some kind of precious lab rat he's keeping alive. "I'm bringing you warmth, okay!" bro, you are NOT subtle. But the fact that he showed up with supplies, that he was genuinely shocked she could do arrangements, that he was worried about her health while also being a complete gremlin about junk food—that's the kind of chaotic friend energy that makes this group feel REAL. The dynamic between these three is so specific and well-drawn. Cheng Yang is the responsible one who still takes risks. Wen Jiuyi is the emotional support gremlin who shows love through snacks and chaos. And Gu Nanci is the reluctant genius who keeps pretending she doesn't care while absolutely caring the most. I'm not crying, you're crying. Also can we discuss Chen Zhuo? The guy who refuses to back down despite his director literally threatening his career? "If it's Gu Nanci, he definitely won't" yield. He's betting on her resilience the way Cheng Yang bet on her talent. This lawyer is the kind of character who's going to be essential later and I am already invested.

There's a line in this text that I keep coming back to: "The stage doesn't care how much effort you put in behind the scenes. It's cruel—just those few minutes." This is the thesis statement of the entire novel, isn't it? The stage is justice and injustice simultaneously. It rewards preparation but doesn't acknowledge it. It judges you on performance while ignoring process. It's a metaphor for the entertainment industry, for society, for the way the world treats people who don't have power or connections. Gu Nanci's past life is basically a case study in this philosophy. She gave the stage everything—her health, her body, her life—and the stage gave her fame and then discarded her. And yet she doesn't regret it. Why? Because the stage, for all its cruelty, was honest. It didn't pretend to care about your effort. It only cared about your output. And she made sure her output was flawless. But now she's in a new life, with new people, and the theme is evolving. It's no longer just about individual perfection—it's about trust, collaboration, shared risk. Cheng Yang trusting her with the arrangement, Wen Jiuyi showing up with snacks, Chen Zhuo betting his career on her innocence. These are all acts of faith in a world that only values results. The legal subplot adds another layer to this theme. Qian Tao represents the cynical view: "People can't fight against capital." He's not wrong about the power dynamics. But Chen Zhuo believes in something else—that justice matters even when the odds are stacked. And he believes Gu Nanci will fight, because he sees the "light in his eyes." So the stage is judgment, but it's also redemption. The internet is judgment, but it's also a weapon. The law is corruption, but it's also a tool for the righteous. This novel keeps flipping the script on what these systems mean, and I'm here for it.

Let me tell you about stakes because this novel understands them on a primal level. In a survival show, the stakes are already high—elimination means going home, failure means obscurity. But this story layers on SO much more. First layer: Gu Nanci's career. He's already a blacklisted artist with controversial popularity. One more public failure and he's done. The company knows this, which is why they're using him as a scapegoat. Second layer: Wen Jiuyi's debut. He's a top-three skilled trainee, a dik homegrown talent with multiple buffs stacked. He has everything to lose if this team-up fails. Third layer: Cheng Yang's reputation. He's already been sold out by his CP partner and now he's watching Gu Nanci get sacrificed by the system. The conflict isn't just external—the company vs. the contestants. It's internal too. Wen Jiuyi starts off seeing Gu Nanci as a burden, a "vase" he's reluctantly carrying. But by the end of these chapters, he's the one who realizes the depth of Gu Nanci's situation and feels that chest-tightening empathy. That's character conflict—someone's prejudice being dismantled by reality. And then there's the uncle conflict, which hits different. This isn't about screen time or debut spots. This is about family, about someone calling him "Little Ci" and trying to negotiate his behavior like he's a commodity. Gu Nanci's triple rejection—"Busy sleeping, no time, next time"—that's not just attitude. That's a man drawing a line in the sand between who he was and who he's becoming. The suspense in these chapters comes from knowing that all these conflicts are about to collide. The group evaluation is coming. Wen Jiuyi needs Gu Nanci to survive. Cheng Yang is watching. Si Chang is lurking. And the company is plotting on the fortieth floor. What happens when the pawns realize they can checkmate the king?

I need to talk about Cheng Yang because this character absolutely stole my heart in these chapters. The man got SOLD OUT by his own CP partner—Wen Jiuyi basically threw him to the wolves—and what does he do? He doesn't cry about it. He doesn't confront it dramatically. He waits. He bides his time. And then, with the calm precision of a cat playing with a very confused mouse, he drags Wen Jiuyi onto the stage, makes him hold his jacket, and seats him RIGHT NEXT TO SI CHANG. The look on Wen Jiuyi's face—horrified, trapped, unable to escape because cameras are everywhere—pure comedic gold. And then Cheng Yang casually retrieves his own jacket and drapes it over himself again? The man is a menace. A beautiful, elegant, grudge-holding menace. "Forced shipping, my foot! It's just a beautiful guy getting revenge after being sold out!" The internet thinks they're a CP. Cheng Yang knows the truth: this is personal. But here's what actually got me emotionally—the moment after everyone leaves the studio. Wen Jiuyi and Cheng Yang both look at Gu Nanci, and for the first time, these two rivals share an identical expression. Not hostility. Not competition. Something like... recognition? They've both fought their way through the trainee elimination system. They both understand gains and losses. But Gu Nanci is operating on a different wavelength entirely, one stained with the kind of darkness they've only heard about in whispers. The text says it perfectly: "This was the first time they'd seen someone like Gu Nanci—slandered by everyone yet with no way to explain himself. The extreme heaviness of reality made both of them feel an involuntary tightness in their chests." That's when I knew this story wasn't just about survival show drama. It's about three young men who thought they understood the entertainment industry, suddenly realizing there are depths they never wanted to explore. And Gu Nanci? He's already at the bottom, looking up, smiling like he's not drowning.

Everything in this chapter is about performance. The trainees perform for judges, perform for fans, perform for each other. But the real performance is the one the company puts on — the one where they pretend this is a meritocracy while quietly deciding who debuts before the first note is sung. That vase. It's such a perfect symbol because it represents everything Gu Nanci is supposed to be: decorative, fragile, breakable, replaceable. A flower vase. But when it shatters, the entire carefully constructed illusion cracks too. The points system, the competition rules, the company's narrative of fairness — all of it depends on certain people staying in their assigned roles. And Gu Nanci breaking something, anything, proves she's not just an ornament. She's a variable. The competition structure itself is a metaphor. Three parts: group stage, solo stage, free stage. Each one stripping away another layer of protection. First you need a team. Then you need popularity. Then you need to survive a one-on-one battle with nothing but your raw ability. It's a machine designed to grind people down to their essential value. And the fans — "It truly feels like watching their own child grow up bit by bit, sending it out with their own hands to face the test of the market." This line hit me so hard. The fans aren't just spectators. They're investors. Their emotional investment is another currency in this economy of fame. When they say "Fire must keep walking the flower path" even if their bias doesn't debut, they're acknowledging that the system will outlast any single person. Gu Nanci filing that lawsuit with the million yuan is the quietest rebellion in the chapter. She's not performing for the competition. She's performing for herself. "A single rumor spreads with ease, refuting it takes exhausting effort" — she truly understood the meaning of this phrase now. The novel keeps asking: who gets to tell their story, and who gets silenced while doing it?

I need to just sit with the emotional weight of this chapter for a second. Gu Nanci comes back from that devastating confrontation with Xi Ruqian — who basically threatens her career, mentions this performance-based contract with less than a year left, and walks away looking at her like she's contaminated — and what does she do? She goes to PRACTICE. She doesn't collapse. She doesn't spiral. She shows up early, gets handed lyrics by Cheng Yang, and just starts working. But the moment that really got me is Wen Jiuyi. This guy follows Cheng Yang around like a lost puppy, completely unaware that he's playing out an entire tragic drama in his head about Gu Nanci's injuries. "Man, Cheng Yang is so annoying, constantly nagging and asking about your whereabouts. If you don't recover soon, I really won't be able to keep covering for you…" Meanwhile he's the one doing all the covering! And he genuinely believes whatever she tells him. He's so pure it hurts. Then Cheng Yang's whole breakdown at the door — the way he describes meeting Gu Nanci as "his doom" and says "All gifts from fate come with a price already marked in secret" — it's funny but there's real tenderness underneath. He's been so frustrated with her that he's convinced she's useless, but he never actually abandons her. And when she surprises him by saying she CAN do the dance and wants to rearrange the song? The text says his pupils contracted and his mind went blank. That's not just surprise — that's someone whose expectations have been completely shattered in the best way. The trio name brainstorm is also just the sweetest thing. Wen Jiuyi trying so hard, Cheng Yang staring at the ceiling doing absolutely nothing, and Gu Nanci enthusiastically agreeing to "Yang Yici" just to end the suffering. I'm obsessed with these three.

There's this one passage where Gu Nanci thinks about her past life—how she performed through fevers, through rain, through a body that was literally falling apart, and how she never regretted a single moment because she gave everything to the stage. And then she thinks about her teammates and realizes: "Others had no obligation to gamble alongside her." I had to put the book down for a second. That's the kind of emotional honesty that hits different. She spent her whole career alone at the top, burning herself out, and now she's in a situation where she has to consider other people's risks alongside her own perfectionism. That's growth. That's maturity. That's also kind of heartbreaking because it means she spent years thinking she HAD to carry everything by herself. But then—here's the thing that made me actually emotional—Cheng Yang reads her exactly. He sees that she's not just being difficult about the music, she's being difficult because she CARES. And he says they're "cut from the same cloth." Not "you're talented," not "I trust your skill"—but WE ARE THE SAME. That's the line that got me. And Wen Jiuyi, in his own chaotic way, is also showing care. The snack-stuffing, the worried looks, the fact that he showed up immediately when he heard about the changes—it's his love language. Loud, messy, slightly annoying love language, but love nonetheless. The emotional arc here isn't about romance (though I'm sure that's coming eventually), it's about belonging. Gu Nanci spent her first life alone at the top. Now she's finding out what it feels like to have people who will trust you, feed you snacks at 2 AM, and fight for you in court. And the fact that she thinks "having like-minded teammates... actually felt... not bad?" before immediately taking it back because Wen Jiuyi was eating chips loudly? That's the most realistic emotional response I've ever read. She's not ready to admit she's happy yet. But we see it.

Okay so this confrontation between Gu Nanci and Xi Ruqian is EVERYTHING. Like, up until now he's been this smooth-talking, gentle-faced PR director who everyone trusts, but here he just completely drops the mask. The way he says "You've gotten this far because of my planning" like it's some kind of ownership claim is genuinely chilling. He literally views her as a PRODUCT he created. A rose full of risks, no matter how vibrant, he wouldn't dare cultivate — that line gave me actual chills. This man has been manipulating her for TWO YEARS and he's not even pretending anymore. But what I love most is Gu Nanci's response. She doesn't break. She doesn't cry. She just looks at him with these dark gleaming eyes and says "If your idea of alignment is being an emotionless commodity for you to manipulate, I can't agree." Cold. So cold. And then she refuses his "suggestion" to withdraw from the competition. This is the moment the original owner would've probably folded, but THIS Gu Nanci? She's not having it. And then Cheng Yang's arc in this section is honestly the sweetest thing. He's been so frustrated with her, calling her a soft persimmon, rolling his eyes at her all day — and then he shows up at the door completely defeated, ready to just put her on a stool and let her be "pretty decoration." But underneath all that exasperation he actually CARES. He didn't cancel her part until the absolute last second. He's harsh in speech but soft at heart, and that moment when she tells him she can do the dance and wants to rearrange the whole song — his pupils contract, he's stunned. I love how their dynamic shifts from pure frustration to this weird respect.

The atmosphere in this chapter is absolutely electric and I need to talk about how the author builds tension through setting. Let me start with the studio entrance scene. Gu Nanci walking in at twenty-nine minutes, the cameraman already positioned at the door because of Fu Zhi's signal, the minute hand pointing to twenty-eight... this tiny detail of checking the time creates such immediate suspense. We're counting down to something. And then she stops at the doorway. Her gaze locks onto a particular seat. Twenty-nine minutes. The boy in that seat looks up. The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. And the visual contrast! Gu Xiao charging out "disheveled and undignified" while Gu Nanci moves with "graceful steps and a composed demeanor, breathtakingly beautiful, as if every strand of her hair glowed." The camera naturally draws to her. This isn't just description — it's cinematic choreography. The author is directing a scene in your mind. Then the studio interior falls into "eerily silent" shock when everyone realizes who Gu Nanci is. The text captures this perfectly: "In a space usually filled with dozens of noisy boys giving everyone headaches, an unexpected quiet descended for several seconds." That silence is SO loud. It's the sound of every person in that room recalculating their entire understanding of who Gu Nanci is. And the live broadcast element adds another layer — the cameras are rolling, the audience is watching, and all this confrontation is happening under the glare of public scrutiny. The production staff's internal panic when Gu Xiao charges out, their relief when he's taken away, then their shock when they realize WHO the key prospect actually is... it's a whole mini-narrative within the scene. The author also does great work with Yin Yue on stage — "an ice-cold beauty, her professional skills were just as icy" with "a face praised by the internet for its authenticity but actually arrogant as hell." This establishes the hierarchy of the show's world in one paragraph. The cameras stay on her because she's the biggest star, and nobody dares pan to the audience for fear of "casting a negative light on Yin Yue's zero-skill, pure script-reading performance." The world-building here is sharp and satirical.