APCF – Chapter 53 Perfume

“Brother, listen to me!”

Qi Xingchen: “Don’t say another word.”

“My female classmate told me this is exactly how she cheered for her brother!”

“Her brother?” Qi Xingchen’s face remained expressionless. “The ‘brother’ she mentioned refers to an idol, not her biological brother!”

Qi Jiaze: “…”

Qi Jiaze: “Why does she call her idol ‘brother’? Does he even acknowledge it?”

“I don’t know if he does or not, but I currently don’t feel like acknowledging you as my brother.”

Qi Jiaze: “Waaah.”

Qi Xingchen ruffled his messy bedhead, hung up the phone, and decided to let the little brat stew for a while.

He suspected that last night, it wasn’t natural sleep that overtook him—it was sheer frustration. Pairing a wrong phone number with his brother’s over-the-top cheesy support was a double knockout.

Heh.

It might have been better to pass out than to face reality.

He didn’t even want to face An Ran. He texted her, saying he was going out for a morning run, then dived straight into the swimming pool.

The cool morning pool water finally managed to quell some of his embarrassment. Leaning against the pool’s edge, he wiped his face. The executive producer, who had been away from the set for half a month, showed up out of nowhere, also carrying a robe and heading to the pool for a swim.

Seeing him, the producer burst into laughter.

“You take your time swimming; I’ll head to the set,” Qi Xingchen quickly fled the scene.

Back at home, he took a quick “combat shower,” got dressed, and got into the car. An Ran hadn’t come down yet, so Qi Xingchen sat in his seat, glancing around.

Out of the blue, he noticed several newspapers stacked near Uncle Qin. The images on the front pages looked strangely familiar.

“Uncle Qin,” Qi Xingchen asked, “Why did you buy so many newspapers?”

Uncle Qin stammered, “Uh… just trying to stay informed about national affairs from different perspectives.”

From his hesitant response, Qi Xingchen immediately sensed something was off. Pretending to adjust his clothes, he quickly snatched up the newspapers.

Sure enough, the social news section of City News Daily devoted nearly half a page to yesterday’s bizarre incident at the coastal square.

The City Morning Post reported the same.

The Life Daily echoed the story.

Even the Urban News Express followed suit.

The hot air balloon, two striking banners, and rose petals were vividly printed in the newspapers, the text as large as possible.

Priced at just 50 cents per copy, these papers were snatched up by citizens grabbing breakfast or out for morning exercise—and then passed around among families.

In short, a quarter of H City’s residents now recognized him.

Qi Xingchen finally realized that avoiding the issue wasn’t going to help. Glancing at the time—it was just past 7 a.m.—he called out, “Uncle Qin, turn on the radio and tune it to H City’s station.”

Uncle Qin complied, and a sweet female voice came through:

“Yesterday, a citizen used hot air balloons, banners, and rose petals to publicly express admiration for a celebrity named Qi Xingchen. On behalf of the city administration, I’d like to remind everyone to pursue fandom rationally and not to follow this citizen’s example.”

“…” Qi Xingchen took a deep breath.

While filming Let’s Budget Travel, Qi Xingchen had joked about Bo Ye landing on the social news section, but in the end, it was he himself who made the headlines first.

It was tough—he was having a tough time.

He figured that by now, Weibo must also be a disaster zone. After all, there were so many people at the coastal square yesterday; someone was bound to post about it online.

With a heart full of dread, he opened the Weibo app he hadn’t touched for over ten hours and checked Shang Yuliang’s apology post first.

A small minority speculated that Shang Yuliang had been coerced into publicly apologizing, but most of the comments were quite reasonable.

[“Yesterday I criticized Qi Jiaze; I’d like to apologize to him now. I hope he sees this.”]

[“I’m Qi Jiaze’s classmate. The school investigated yesterday afternoon and confirmed he didn’t intentionally harm Tao Xuan.”]

[“You can tell from the phrasing that this apology post was made voluntarily. Some people need to stop with the conspiracy theories. He’s just a high schooler—what did he ever do to provoke you?”]

[“OMG, are all high schoolers this handsome nowadays? What are they eating to grow up like this? AWSL!”]

Seeing these comments, Qi Xingchen felt somewhat comforted. At least the brother in the original post, who had been cyberbullied into a mental breakdown and drove to his death, could now continue living well.

Next, he opened the trending topics, and his mood took a sudden nosedive. He wanted nothing more than to strangle his brother with his own hands.

For a small-time celebrity, landing even one trending topic was a big deal. But Qi Xingchen’s situation was unique:

Smack in the middle of the list were two phrases neatly side by side: “Super Freaking Handsome Qi Xingchen” and “Walk the Flower Road, Qi Xingchen.”

He clicked in:

[“This is definitely a contender for the annual dumbest news award, right?”]

[“Annual? Monthly for sure.”]

[“LOL! I’ve screenshotted the banner and set it as my lock screen.”]

[“After seeing Qi Xingchen’s photo, I, a casual observer, can confirm: ‘Super Freaking Handsome’ is not an exaggeration. 🤤”]

Underneath, fans were even fighting over which phrase should rank higher, determined to push their preferred hashtag to the top.

Qi Xingchen despaired and closed the app. Still, there was a silver lining: because of this silly viral video, he’d shifted from being hated for clout-chasing to being laughed at.

A bittersweet kind of comfort.

“Oh my~”

At this moment, An Ran came down and was surprised to see Qi Xingchen ready before her. “Have you had breakfast, Super Handsome Qi Xingchen?”

“…Call me by my name!” Qi Xingchen collapsed. “No, I haven’t eaten!”

An Ran, guessing as much, handed him some food with a grin. “Are we skipping the aquarium today?”

“Yeah, heading to H University to film campus scenes.”

“Then we’ll wrap up in about a week.” She counted on her fingers.

At the mention of “a week,” a strange silence filled the car.

Most celebrities have detailed schedules, knowing exactly what’s next after finishing their current commitments. But Qi Xingchen, without a manager, had no idea what lay ahead.

Sensing his unease, An Ran broke the silence. “Xingxing, what’s your work email? I’ll check for you.”

Qi Xingchen gave her the email address and password, knowing there’d likely be no job offers.

Chen Noah was aware of his identity and wouldn’t dare assign him work carelessly. Without a manager to demand resources, his schedule would inevitably dry up.

“Let’s see…” An Ran skimmed through the junk emails, deleting them as she went. After scrolling through two pages, she suddenly exclaimed, “Oh!”

“What is it?” Qi Xingchen asked curiously.

“‘Apelle’… why does that sound so familiar?” An Ran mumbled to herself. “Apelle… après…”

“Oh, right!” she said excitedly. “It’s après, the perfume brand! They sent you an email four days ago!”

Qi Xingchen vaguely remembered. Après was a niche French salon perfume brand—not very famous, but known for its quality and craftsmanship. He’d heard Qi Yijie mention it before.

“What did après say?” he asked.

“Wait, I haven’t opened it yet.” An Ran read through the email from top to bottom. “The sender introduced himself as après’ product manager. He asked if you’d be interested in becoming the Asian regional ambassador for their new perfume… Wow, Xingxing! You’re getting an endorsement deal!”

“Aren’t you excited?!” An Ran nearly jumped with joy.

But Qi Xingchen wasn’t as optimistic.

He had no major works and wasn’t particularly famous. What could they possibly see in him to offer an endorsement?

“An Ran, did they leave a contact number?”

“They did.”

“Can you call them for me and say I’m interested in collaborating?”

“Alright,” An Ran thought about how to phrase it, then dialed the number and put the phone on speaker.

It seemed like an assistant or translator answered. After An Ran stated the purpose of the call, the person on the other end explained that the product manager was in meetings that morning but could schedule a casting session for the afternoon or evening if it was convenient.

Hearing the words “casting session,” Qi Xingchen immediately understood. They hadn’t selected him yet; he was just one of the candidates.

He gestured for An Ran to schedule it for the evening. The other party readily agreed, and after ending the call, they sent over the address and time.

City S was a 40-minute flight from City H. After landing yesterday, Bo Ye had gone straight to the City S sports arena for rehearsal, working late into the night.

This morning, after completing an interview, Dong Cheng Entertainment insisted on hosting a welcome dinner for him, using the opportunity to discuss plans for their talent show. Bo Ye knew he couldn’t decline and instructed the staff to take him to the restaurant booked by Dong Cheng after leaving the studio.

Allen, who had been accompanying him for two days and was thoroughly exhausted, yawned while playing on his phone in the car.

Suddenly, Allen burst out laughing, clutching his stomach. “Boss, you’ve got to see this! It’s hilarious!”

Bo Ye was reviewing the final cut of his new song’s music video and wasn’t in the mood to respond, continuing his work with his head down.

“Come on, take a look,” Allen urged, knowing how absorbed Bo Ye could get while working. “It’s about Xingxing.”

“Hm?”

Bo Ye took the phone from Allen’s hand. After watching the entire hot air balloon performance, his brows furrowed slightly.

Most people wouldn’t know the orientation of a fan’s window if they hadn’t been to their room. But he had, and the position of the hot air balloons in the video was directly in line with that fan’s window.

It wasn’t a fan support display; someone had deliberately sent those hot air balloons to express admiration for the fan.

Bo Ye tapped the armrest of his seat twice with his finger, then used Allen’s phone to pull up Qi Xingchen’s profile page.

Naturally, he saw the story behind the ticket request.

He said nothing and returned the phone to Allen.

Half an hour later, they arrived at the restaurant. Dong Cheng TV’s deputy manager was there with the talent show’s director, coordinator, and producer, all ready and waiting. After some pleasantries, they got down to business.

“Xiao Bo,” the deputy manager said, “have you finished reading the contract for My Era?”

My Era was the name of the talent show. Bo Ye nodded. “I’ve read it. My lawyer said all the terms are favorable to me. No issues.”

“We wouldn’t dare offer unfavorable terms to someone like you… Alright, I’ll ask the lawyer to draft the final contract. Let’s find a time to sign it—no backing out last minute!”

“I won’t,” Bo Ye replied with a smile. “Don’t worry.”

Hearing this, the deputy manager relaxed visibly, exhaling deeply. “With you onboard, My Era is already halfway to success. Finally, I can get a good night’s sleep and move on to finalizing the remaining mentors.”

As he played the sympathy card, Bo Ye asked casually, “How many have you secured so far?”

“You’re the headliner. Dance, vocal, and acting mentors will be finalized within three days. The Star Observer role is tricky, though. We’ve reviewed a few candidates but haven’t found anyone particularly suitable yet. If you have time later, maybe you could give me some advice.”

“The Star Observer…” Bo Ye mused. “What qualifications are required?”

“They should be well-rounded since there’s a supporting performance segment later on,” the deputy manager explained. “But they don’t need to be an expert. The main task is to objectively assess whether contestants are debut-ready, so it doesn’t become biased—like the dance mentor favoring dancers or the acting mentor pushing actors.”

After hearing this, an idea sparked in Bo Ye’s mind.

He traced the rim of his teacup with his finger, his pale skin seeming even whiter than the porcelain, drawing the attention of all the women present.

“Have you been following Let’s Budget Travel?” Bo Ye asked. “There’s a guest named Qi Xingchen who fits the bill quite well. You might want to consider him.”

“I’ve heard of Qi Xingchen… Alright, I’ll look into his profile more thoroughly.”

Having said enough, Bo Ye left it at that. Once the broader topics were covered, he and the Dong Cheng team discussed the details of the show.

The dinner was a resounding success. As it wrapped up, Bo Ye called out to the deputy manager, “By the way, save me two front-row tickets to the music awards ceremony.”

“You’re really pulling strings now, asking the deputy manager for tickets,” the deputy manager said with a laugh. “Alright, I’ll squeeze out two for you. Who are they for?”

Who were they for?

Recalling the Weibo post about the ticket request, Bo Ye couldn’t help but chuckle. “They’re for my fan—to watch the concert.”