APCF – Chapter 54 Negotiation

The life of a male college student is nothing more than attending classes, playing games, and discussing the girls they like—far easier to act out than cheesy romance scenes. Qi Xingchen handled it effortlessly and even managed to complete one and a half days’ worth of filming in a single day.

After wrapping up, An Ran quietly reminded him, “Xingxing, do you want to see the makeup artist and have them do a more formal look for you?”

Qi Xingchen hadn’t done any camera tests before, nor had the original host had any experience with brand endorsements, so he was clueless. He guessed, “I don’t think it’s necessary. They might need to test makeup there, and if I do it now, I’d just have to remove it later. That’d be a hassle.”

An Ran thought his reasoning made sense, so the two “rookie chicks” were escorted by Qin Shu, the “old hen,” to the designated location.

The flat-level studio was the local branch of après in H Province. Since it was after work hours, most employees had already left, leaving only two offices occupied.

One was the product manager’s office, and the other, occasionally flashing with light, seemed to be a photography studio for auditions.

When they entered, the man they had spoken to on the phone earlier quickly greeted them. “Mr. Qi, welcome. The manager is waiting for you. Please follow me.”

They followed the man, curiously glancing into the studio as they passed. Inside, an Asian and a Caucasian man sat across from each other. Both were dressed impeccably, with polished accessories like brooches and watches, clearly waiting for an audition.

“Wei Qin is here too…” An Ran whispered, worried Qi Xingchen wouldn’t recognize him.

“Xingxing, that Chinese guy is Wei Qin.”

“Is he a celebrity?” Qi Xingchen asked curiously.

“Yeah. He debuted as the center of My Era a couple of years ago. He’s now hovering between second- and first-tier status—basically a near-top-tier star.”

My Era is one of the top three talent shows in recent years, and trainees who stood out from it rarely struggled in their careers.

For Wei Qin to rise to near-top-tier status in just two years was a testament to his strength.

If someone with his credentials still needed to audition, it seemed après was very serious about breaking into the Asian market. Qi Xingchen had been a bit nervous before, but now he felt more relaxed.

With such a formidable competitor, all he needed to do was perform normally. If he succeeded, great; if not, he’d patiently wait for the next opportunity.

He had a clear understanding of his level—just a beginner who should focus on leveling up in the “starter village.” He’d never dreamed of instant success.

The product manager, Camille, was a beautiful Frenchwoman. When her assistant brought them in, Camille greeted them warmly with French etiquette. Qi Xingchen returned the gesture and took a seat on the sofa.

Camille spoke a few sentences in French, which the assistant translated: “The manager says she didn’t expect you to be so young and handsome.”

“Please tell Ms. Camille that I didn’t expect her to be so elegant and beautiful,” Qi Xingchen replied.

The assistant translated his words, and Camille laughed, covering her mouth. She then spoke again.

The assistant continued, “She says that the first time she saw you gliding through the water with the white whale, she immediately thought of the new summer fragrance. The top notes evoke the fresh sea breeze over the ocean’s surface, while the base notes of cedarwood and vetiver capture the tranquility and mystery of the deep sea.”

Previously, Qi Xingchen had no idea why après invited him for an audition. Now he understood—it was because Camille had seen the video of him dancing with the whale.

After some casual conversation, the assistant received a message from the studio and said, “The equipment is ready, Mr. Qi. Let’s move to the audition.”

“Alright,” Qi Xingchen nodded.

The set in the studio was minimalistic: a pure white path running through the space, leading to an oversized bathtub filled with blue water. On the floor were three bottles of perfume.

The perfume bottles were crafted from deep blue thick glass, cut into irregular polygonal shapes. The spray nozzle featured a silver pull ring, resembling a key to unlock an ink bottle from the depths of the sea.

“This season’s featured fragrance is called Siren. It’s a unisex scent,” Camille explained, pointing to the bottles on the floor. “The audition has no set theme. You’re free to interpret and express what a siren means to you.”

The Caucasian model, Wei Qin, and Qi Xingchen all nodded in acknowledgment.

“Let’s begin. David, would you like to go first?”

David, the Caucasian model, stood tall at nearly 1.9 meters, with a muscular, commanding presence.

Experienced and confident, he made a playful face at the camera before suddenly removing his shirt, revealing a well-defined physique.

He picked up a perfume bottle, walked slowly to the bathtub, and showcased the product while sitting on the edge. Then, he lay back into the water, his abs glistening, exuding raw sensuality.

David’s performance was undeniably professional. His chiseled features and magnetic body would undoubtedly attract a large audience of female consumers.

“Next, Mr. Wei?”

Wei Qin nodded slightly. When David offered him the perfume bottle he used, Wei Qin declined and picked up a new one.

From his demeanor, it was clear that Wei Qin was reserved and proud. His approach to showcasing the product was entirely different from David’s—no stripping, no overt displays. Instead, he danced in the bathtub, holding the perfume bottle.

The dance began serenely, transitioned into fervent energy, and returned to stillness, as if portraying the life cycle of a siren—from awakening to activity and then back to slumber.

By the end, the hem of his clothes was slightly wet, but he didn’t seem to mind. Smiling, he held the perfume bottle as though it was a newfound treasure, caring little about the scales on his body.

Wei Qin’s performance, in terms of expression and technicality, was nearly perfect. Qi Xingchen frowned slightly.

An Ran noticed his reaction and whispered comfortingly, “Don’t be nervous. Just do your best. As long as we give it our all, that’s enough.”

Although her words were encouraging, Qi Xingchen could tell she had little hope—they were, after all, up against someone as famous and skilled as Wei Qin.

“Don’t worry. I’ll give it my all.”

He had always disliked the phrase do your best—he preferred to give it your all.

Soon, Camille called his name. Taking a deep breath, Qi Xingchen considered the essence of a siren.

A siren could be innocent yet wicked, pure yet seductive—a contradiction that drew people in, unable to resist their allure.

Placing his chosen perfume bottle in the middle of the white path, he returned to the starting point and signaled to the director that he was ready.

Camille observed his performance through the camera. Qi Xingchen strolled leisurely down the path, picking up the perfume bottle along the way. He played with it like a curious child, then cradled it gently, as if it were a cherished treasure, and continued walking.

Camille whispered to the director, “What do you think?”

“Qi has good control and camera presence, but I don’t think he performed as well as Wei.”

“Hmm…” Camille seemed uncertain. “I have a feeling he’s capable of more.”

By the time she finished speaking, Qi Xingchen had reached the edge of the bathtub, his back facing the camera.

Just when everyone thought Qi Xingchen would follow the others’ lead by stepping into the bathtub with the perfume in hand, he did something unexpected.

He raised his left hand high and suddenly let go. The heavy perfume bottle crashed to the ground, sending liquid and shards of glass flying in all directions.

Then, he turned around and faced the camera with a smirk. His skin was as white as snow, his lips crimson red, and his black eyelashes resembled raven feathers, half-concealing his amber eyes.

Through the gaps in his lashes, his gaze poured out, enigmatic and alluring.

He was nothing like the playful, innocent boy from moments ago.

Under the cold-toned set lighting, his smile was captivating, leaving Camille momentarily stunned.

Before she could react, the spreading scent of the perfume filled the air as Qi Xingchen stepped onto the edge of the bathtub and leaped gracefully into the water.

The playful boy and the bewitching siren disappeared in an instant, returning to where he belonged.

Only a silhouette remained, a fleeting image indistinguishable from a scene in a film reel.

The audience couldn’t help but let out a collective sigh of bittersweet longing. An Ran was the first to snap out of it.

She slapped her thigh. “Oh no! Could he have drowned?!” She rushed forward in a panic.

Qi Xingchen was holding himself up at the bottom of the bathtub, his lungs about to burst. Once An Ran fished him out, he took a few deep breaths and asked in confusion, “Did someone call ‘cut’? I didn’t hear it.”

“…It’s just an audition, not an actual shoot—why would they call ‘cut’?” An Ran helped the inexperienced rookie to his feet and carefully warned him, “Watch out for the broken glass.”

Qi Xingchen stepped carefully over the shards, and someone handed him a towel. He looked up and realized it was Camille.

“Dry yourself off properly. It gets chilly in China at night.”

Her assistant translated for her and then asked, “May I ask, why did you throw away the perfume?”

“A siren isn’t bound by any material possession,” Qi Xingchen replied immediately. “The entire sea belongs to him. He’s the one who controls the magical box from the depths, and he can do whatever he pleases.”

Camille nodded thoughtfully after hearing the explanation and instructed the assistant to escort the three auditioning actors out of the studio.

Before they got in the car, An Ran couldn’t resist asking the assistant, “Was Camille satisfied with our performance? Do you think we have a chance of being chosen?”

The assistant gave a diplomatic answer. “I can’t speculate on the manager’s thoughts, but I’ll inform you as soon as there’s any decision.”

“Oh, alright. Thank you so much.” An Ran thanked the assistant and shut the car door, her expression quickly falling.

She began grumbling—first about why Wei Qin would compete for a smaller endorsement, then about how it was fortunate the product manager was French, as they might prioritize a better match for the role rather than just choosing the most famous candidate.

After venting, she noticed Qi Xingchen sitting there unbothered. She grabbed a blanket from the car and draped it over his legs. “Are you cold? I should’ve brought an extra set of clothes.”

“No, I’m fine. Not cold.”

“Why are you so calm?”

“You told me, as long as we do our best, that’s enough,” Qi Xingchen said with a raised eyebrow. “I gave it my all. Now it’s up to après to decide.”

“…” An Ran was at a loss for words. “Xingxing, your mindset is way too mature for your age… But your performance today was absolutely stunning. I think we’ve got a fifty percent chance of being chosen. It’s just a shame about that perfume bottle. David and Wei Qin both got to take theirs home, but ours ended up shattered into pieces.”

The first batch of experimental perfumes was indeed worth keeping, but Qi Xingchen chuckled softly at her comment.

He didn’t feel any regret.

He already knew what scent Bo Ye liked.

After a bath back at the hotel, Qi Xingchen realized he had indeed caught a cold. His nose was stuffy, and his head felt heavy.

Not wanting it to affect the next day’s shoot, he called An Ran to bring him medicine.

Having learned from the last time he had a fever, An Ran had stashed a few pieces of ginger in the fridge. After Qi Xingchen took his medicine, she brought him a bowl of ginger tea, setting it on the nightstand. “Drink it while it’s hot.”

Qi Xingchen frowned. “…I don’t like the taste of ginger tea.”

An Ran, thrilled to discover something Qi Xingchen didn’t like, immediately perked up. She pulled up a chair and sat by his bedside. “You have to drink it. Otherwise, you’ll feel worse tomorrow.”

When “tomorrow” was mentioned, Qi Xingchen deflated, reluctantly lifting the bowl and sipping the ginger tea bit by bit.

While keeping an eye on him, An Ran scrolled through her phone. Suddenly, she let out a loud scream!

Qi Xingchen nearly dropped the bowl in shock. “What are you looking at?”

“It’s Ye-ge! Ye-ge tagged you—check Weibo right now!”

Why would Bo Ye tag him? Qi Xingchen fumbled to open Weibo, which he hadn’t touched all day out of embarrassment.

At the very top of his clean homepage was:

— Bo Ye: Qi Xingchen, let’s talk about the price.

[Image]

The image showed two censored tickets for the Dongcheng Music Festival. Qi Xingchen’s heart raced, pounding at 80 beats per second.

A thin layer of sweat appeared on his forehead—ginger tea couldn’t work as fast as this.

When did Bo Ye notice him asking for tickets?

Did Bo Ye know who he wanted to see?

A flood of questions filled Qi Xingchen’s mind. He hurriedly opened WeChat, ready to message Bo Ye. His thumb hovered over the keyboard—

And then he remembered there was still someone else in the room.

Grabbing the ginger tea, he downed it in one gulp and issued a polite dismissal: “I’m fine now, Sister An Ran, you can head back.”

An Ran: “???”

Using someone and then ditching them? Daring to kick her out right after flaunting a romance?

Seeing her indignation, Qi Xingchen decided to adopt a softer approach. “Did you see those tickets? One of them is yours.”

Finally satisfied, An Ran left without further protest.

As soon as the door shut, Qi Xingchen curled up in his blanket, his thumbs typing away furiously: [Are the tickets really mine?!]

Bo Ye: Yes, they are.

Xingxing: Which row?!

Bo Ye: The negotiable row.

Xingxing: Side or near the center? Can you show me?!

Rubbing his temples, Bo Ye replied: Why all the exclamation marks?

Qi Xingchen suddenly realized that every one of his last three sentences ended with an exclamation mark.

He was excited—but it wasn’t his fault.

It was Bo Ye’s fault for giving him the tickets.

He covered his enthusiasm awkwardly: [Exclamation marks are just easy to type.]

Bo Ye: [Image]

Bo Ye: Seats 12 and 13, off to the side. The center spots are too conspicuous—I’m worried someone might recognize you.

“12 and 13…” Qi Xingchen murmured the seat numbers, kicking his blanket happily.

He had seen the seating chart for S City Stadium on a ticketing app. Bo Ye had chosen the seats with great care. They were perfectly positioned to offer a clear view of the stage with no blind spots, while avoiding too much attention.

Qi Xingchen flipped onto his stomach and continued typing: [Will you send them to me express?!!]

Still with exclamation marks—clearly, the little fan was in an excellent mood. Bo Ye, infected by his cheerfulness, responded in kind: [We haven’t agreed on terms. Why should I send them to you?]

Terms… Oh, it was the “negotiable row.” Qi Xingchen generously replied: [Fine, name your price!]

Bo Ye: [No need to double it, I don’t want money.]

Xingxing: [Then what do you want?!]

Bo Ye thought for a moment: [After the event tomorrow, treat me to a late-night snack.]

After sending this, Bo Ye switched out of the chat to respond to a few questions from the deputy manager of Dongcheng.

Five minutes later, when he returned to the chat, his little fan still hadn’t replied.

Did he fall asleep while texting?

What Bo Ye didn’t know was that Qi Xingchen wasn’t asleep—far from it. He felt like he wouldn’t even need sleep tonight, his excitement was that overwhelming.

He would get to hear Bo Ye sing three songs and treat him to a late-night snack.

Oh my god! Was it even possible for such amazing things to happen in the world???

After calming down, Qi Xingchen firmly pressed a single character: [Deal!]

Bo Ye: [Let Allen know when you’re about to arrive tomorrow; he’ll give you the tickets.]

Once the rendezvous details were finalized, Bo Ye went back to work. Qi Xingchen stared at his ticket with glee for a long time before suddenly realizing something:

There was actually no need for Bo Ye to make a public post on Weibo. Sending the tickets privately would’ve worked just as well.

Bo Ye specifically tagged him to show those haters that he wasn’t clinging to fame or popularity.

By stepping in personally with such a familiar tone, Bo Ye shut down any further attacks from those haters or toxic fans.

What could they do? They had no choice but to accept it.

Qi Xingchen tapped into the comment section of Bo Ye’s Weibo post:

[Qi Xingchen, you’ve got your tickets now!]

[Ahhhhh Ye-ge is so good to Xingxing! Who dares say this isn’t true love? Last Night Xingxingship flag will never fall!!!]

[How dare you flaunt your couple vibes at night—unforgivable! (Knife emoji)]

[CP fans, please crawl back to your stinky dungeon. If you show yourselves again, just scram!]

The tension between solo stans and CP fans was standard, so Qi Xingchen skipped past the toxic comments. Most were congratulating him, and the Xingxingry fans were leaving messages wishing for their friendship to last forever.

Even the comments under his own “ticket request” post were filled with encouragement.

His heart swelled with warmth. Qi Xingchen wrapped himself tightly in his blanket, leaving only a little head poking out, his grin stretching so wide it nearly reached his ears.