It wasn’t until the hour hand struck 10:30 that it was finally time for Gu Qichi to make his entrance.

He hadn’t previously paid much attention to who the other guests on this variety show were. He only roughly knew that Gu Yuning would be appearing—after all, the original novel existed to serve the protagonist, so it wasn’t likely to waste much ink introducing insignificant characters.

Therefore, when Gu Qichi saw Han Hao sitting in the mentor’s seat, he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, though he quickly regained his composure.

It made sense when he thought about it. Han Hao had won two Gold Awards in the film industry at his age; his status and resume spoke for themselves. The show was invested in by the Bo Corporation—wealthy and imposing—so naturally, they would select the best talent within their means.

“Strive! Actor!” featured four mentors and one teaching assistant. The mentors were the internationally renowned director Jiang An (whom Lin Shuangyi had mentioned), the Double-Gold Best Actor Han Hao, the Golden Camel Award-winning Best Actress Yi Zhiyin, and a veteran actor from the Hong Kong and Taiwan circuit, Bu Huiyang.

The teaching assistant was Luo Ning, a top-tier young actress who had exploded in popularity this year thanks to her acting skills.

The moment Gu Qichi appeared, he attracted the gaze of more than half the room. Even Bu Huiyang, accustomed to Hong Kong beauties, couldn’t help but flip through Gu Qichi’s resume, whispering to Yi Zhiyin, “This actor’s appearance is indeed outstanding.”

Because they were wearing microphones, even though their voices were low, they were clearly heard. The mentors’ conversation naturally drifted to the students waiting off-stage.

Almost visibly, Gu Yuning’s face fell. He hadn’t expected Gu Qichi to appear on this show at all.

It wasn’t enough that Gu Qichi had snatched his TV drama resources and magazine covers; now this despicable thing was here to steal screen time in the variety show, too.

It clearly wasn’t like this before…

A flash of hatred passed through Gu Yuning’s eyes. In the past, he had always used his foreknowledge to pin Gu Qichi to the ground, never suffering a single loss. But now, Gu Qichi seemed to get everything he wanted without blowing away any dust, which was truly absurd.

Yet, the private investigator he sent to the set of Xing Tianqing reported that Gu Qichi hadn’t received any special care from Bo Yu, aside from that one time he was summoned for a “visit” during a magazine shoot. This indicated that Bo Yu didn’t hold Gu Qichi in high regard just because of his looks, nor did he use the Bo family’s power to open backdoors for him.

Conversely, Gu Qichi seemed to be doing very well with Lin Shuangyi. According to the assistant beside Song Zhian, Lin Shuangyi disregarded pressure from the Song family and insisted on adding scenes for Gu Qichi. He was even seen entering and leaving Gu Qichi’s room to discuss the script…

Could it be that Gu Qichi had climbed up the social ladder to Lin Shuangyi behind Bo Yu’s back?

But that didn’t seem right either…

Gu Yuning grit his teeth resentfully, though his face maintained the innocent, pure look of a “little white flower”—frail, weak, and seemingly without scheme.

He wasn’t the only one staring. Lou Shao, who belonged to the same company as Gu Qichi, was also watching him. Lou Shao was an artist under Ada. Ever since Ada’s top star went to jail, Lou Shao became the company’s most promoted artist. Seeing an artist managed by Wen Xi—who was like fire and water with Ada—he naturally shared his agent’s hostility and found Gu Qichi an eyesore.

“Hello teachers, I am actor Gu Qichi. I have participated in Azure [xx], [xxxx] Legend, [xx] Youth, and the recently wrapped Xing Tianqing…”

The first few were not good films; they were almost exclusively trash, but Gu Qichi’s face saved them. Although his acting was disastrous at the time, it was barely watchable due to his looks.

Because they had shared a variety show recording previously, Han Hao wanted to speak first to help relieve the awkwardness. However, unexpectedly, the usually silent Jiang An suddenly looked up, his gaze burning as he stared at Gu Qichi, speaking unceremoniously:

“Gu Qichi, is it?”

Suddenly named by Jiang An, Gu Qichi straightened his back instinctively, his expression serious. “Hello, Teacher Jiang An. I am Gu Qichi.”

Jiang An flipped through the submitted resume again, his tone unkind. “Do you know that you look very much like a useless vase?”

The question was sharp, practically inciting conflict, causing a weird awkwardness to permeate the recording set.

This was the first time Director Jiang An had voluntarily spoken all morning. Gu Yuning, who had been jealous, instantly felt relieved upon hearing this. He crossed his arms, ready to watch the drama unfold. He wanted to see what Gu Qichi would say, given that everyone thought he was just a plastic surgery product.

Lou Shao was also startled by Jiang An’s question, recalling what Ada had whispered in his ear:

“Heh, does Wen Xi actually think that silicone man under her can still get famous? Ridiculous.”
“Which director would want trash like Gu Qichi? Who knows how many producers’ beds he had to crawl into to get those meager resources.”

At the time, when Lou Shao wanted to ask how Ada knew so much, she had laughed ambiguously and continued:

“Lou Shao, let me tell you, keep your distance from him on the show. He’s a plague god. However…”
She raised an eyebrow, her nails tapping ‘da-da-da’ on the table. “His heat is indeed high. Even if it’s the ‘black-red’ (infamous) route, he has huge traffic. You should manufacture some controversial topics. Ideally, lead the fire to him. I’ll talk to the marketing accounts in advance. If you step on him, you can climb up a notch…”

Returning to the present, Lou Shao watched as Gu Qichi showed no embarrassment. Instead, he smiled calmly, neither humble nor arrogant. “Mentor Jiang An, I believe that a vase also has a vase’s value. Its existence serves both an ornamental purpose and the practical utility of placement and collection, does it not?”

“I am glad you used the word ‘vase’ to describe me; it is an affirmation of my appearance. However, vases are made of many materials. There is flashy but impractical glass, crude and low-quality clay, but also exquisite porcelain forged in high heat…”

Gu Qichi smiled, his flowing amber eyes appearing exceptionally clear and misty under the stage lights, his eyes curving as his brows relaxed. “As for which material of vase I am, I hope to let you confirm that through this variety show.”

This time, it was Jiang An’s turn to be surprised. Gu Qichi wasn’t popular, but he was certainly infamous. His past acting was trash in Jiang An’s eyes, though the current situation was unknown. However, the standard of his reply was high—not annoying, nor fawning.

Han Hao stepped in to smooth things over in time. “I spent time with this kid, Little Chi, on another variety show. Director Jiang, don’t be fooled by his appearance; he has a lot of potential…”

The mentors chatted back and forth, skillfully glossing over the awkward scene. After a brief discussion, it was time for other group members to take the stage.

Gu Qichi didn’t have any close friends in the entertainment industry. It wasn’t accurate to say he was aloof; he just liked being alone. Aside from directors like Lin Shuangyi who were serious about the craft, Gu Qichi didn’t seem to know anyone in the circle.

So, when a familiar face appeared on stage, Gu Qichi was inevitably surprised.

The person had grown taller, changed his style, and his skin was fairer. He looked full of vitality, confident and generous as he spoke: “Hello mentors, I am Wen Che, a student of the 20xx class at East City Film Academy. I am very happy to come to this program to learn knowledge I haven’t encountered before…”

Gu Qichi, who had been sitting quietly playing with the tassels on his clothes, paused his fingers abruptly upon hearing the name “Wen Che.” He adjusted the angle of his neck and looked over. It really was the food delivery boy from a few months ago.

He looked far different from the person in Gu Qichi’s memory, but looking closely, the images overlapped.

There were fifteen students in total. In the first week, each mentor would choose four students to join their group to film classic movie scenes. The actors’ fate would be decided by a combined score from the online audience and the mentors.

Later, the number of actors would be reduced, and new actors would join as “challengers” to kick others out.

This was the novelty of the show. Since no acting competition had ever included audience voting before, Strive! Actor! was setting a precedent.

By noon, the fifteen actors had assembled. Gu Qichi roughly categorized them from their introductions: eight actors, three idols, and four acting students.

The scene was harmonious as they sat in their seats, until the PD took the stage to announce the rules—

PD: “Welcome to Strive! Actor!. As everyone knows, an actor must master voice, lines, movement, and expression, but also possess strong physical stamina for difficult stunts.”

“The theme of this episode is—Sword Qi spans thirty thousand miles, one sword chills nineteen provinces.”

“The Jianghu is vast, the swordsman heroic. One man, one sword—how delightful. We invite you young heroes to display your skills outside and fly two miles with ‘light footwork’.”

“The first person to return to the recording site will gain priority in choosing a mentor and a film script.”

“Of course, it is understandable that some ladies may be physically weaker. We have checked the female guests’ health conditions beforehand. Confirming no special circumstances, everyone can hit the track. We also hope the male guests can display some gentlemanly spirit and let the ladies run a bit less…”

“The mountains are high and the road is far. Please set off—”

Because background checks were done in advance, most female guests were fitness enthusiasts or had passing sports grades in school. The program team had also tested the running times with staff beforehand to set the rules based on averages.

As soon as the PD finished speaking, the curtain behind them suddenly collapsed, revealing an open-air scene. Gu Qichi looked back and realized they were at a sports track.

Staff members in red vests were already waiting at the start and finish lines, whistles around their necks and stopwatches ready.

Gu Qichi: “…”

No wonder the director had said in the studio today that there was a surprise and they were going to a newly built recording room to play. It turned out to be a trap.

Ignoring the shocked or blank expressions of those around him, Gu Qichi stood up swiftly and ran out first.

The cameras recorded everyone’s micro-expressions. After the PD left the stage, he met with the Director. Watching the people running on the track, the PD worried, “Director, will this method really work? Aren’t you afraid they’ll complain?”

The Director glanced at him and waved his hand dismissively. “Without new ideas, what audience would watch? Besides, aren’t the scripts for those specific people already set? The rest are people with no background. So what if they complain? Can they eat me?”

If a show wants to be popular, it needs explosive points and novelty. The college students could be ignored; they were just there to fill numbers. But someone like Gu Qichi—a fading star with no fans but plenty of “heat”—was perfect for the production team to exploit for conflict and views.

Watching Gu Qichi at the front of the pack, the Director thought for a moment and instructed the PD: “Avoid Jiang An. Later, have Luo Ning steer the conversation toward Gu Yuning. Try to make all four mentors fight for him.”

“Keep the clip of Jiang An picking on Gu Qichi. The editors need to pay attention to that; it needs to smell like gunpowder…”

“Also, tell the staff to appropriately block Gu Qichi. Don’t let him steal the wind…”

Before he could finish his sentence, he saw a problem on the track. He adjusted his sunglasses with interest. “Oh? It’s only the first day of recording and someone is already making petty moves? It seems Gu Qichi’s face has made him quite a few enemies.”