The live broadcast continued.
On the trending lists, various hashtags were boiling over. Following the pre-arranged plan, Ji Xiu’s agency released an official statement regarding the matter. The statement, written in Ji Xiu’s voice, expressed that having reached a pinnacle in his career, he wished to focus on his family and would reduce his filming frequency in the future. He apologized for the previous concealment, expressing regret toward his wife and the public.
One line in particular stood out: "I was once a good actor; now, I want to be a good husband and a good father." Ji Xiu had always been perceived as a cold, distant figure who cared for nothing but acting. This sudden display of warmth left many people stunned. Hearts softened; the initial shock and anger of being "deceived" by the news gradually calmed down. After all, this was the man they had admired for many years.
In less than half an hour, the comments on this Weibo post surpassed a million, with likes and shares also hitting the seven-figure mark.
【I was just a girl when I fell for Ji Xiu. Fourteen years have passed, my own children are grown, and my General in White finally has a family of his own. Bless you; I hope you are happy.】
【I watched the small clips; the child is very cute.】
【I don’t accept this. Hiding a marriage for four years is a character flaw. I must have been blind to be your fan!】
【You don’t need to say sorry, because you never promised to stay single. I’m your fan, and I just want you to be happy.】
【Ji Xiu isn't an idol; it’s normal to get married. Why are you all so agitated?】
【Ji Xiu is thirty-two; isn't getting married the most normal thing in the world?】
Most comments were understanding. Only a small number of radical "girlfriend fans" were lashing out. However, this backlash actually triggered a protective instinct in casual fans and passersby. You want to resist Ji Xiu? Well, I’m going to protect him. You want to curse? I’m going to praise him. What did Ji Xiu do wrong to deserve your abuse? You’re all too spoiled; who do you think you are? Public sentiment toward Ji Xiu’s announcement became increasingly positive as the gentle comments began to drown out the radical ones. Most importantly, Ji Xiu truly didn't rely on a "single persona" to earn his living. He was an actor by profession, and the public had no right to dictate his private life.
Watching the online trends, Brother Wang, the manager, breathed a sigh of relief and called Ji Xiu to relay the good news.
"Okay, I understand. Thank you, Brother Wang."
Ji Xiu sat in the back of the car. He set down his phone and looked into the camera. His eyes were soft, and his tone carried a hint of apology: "I’ve heard about the discussions on Weibo. Thank you all for your understanding."
The bullet comments flickered by:
【It’s nothing, don’t take it to heart. This isn't your mistake.】
【Marriage is a private matter.】
【Liar liar liar liar...】
【Brother has never let us down. Be happy in the future!】
【Just keep acting well; we will always support you.】
Ji Xiu smiled. Though he couldn't see the comments, he seemed to guess what they were saying. Ignoring the insults, he naturally responded to the viewers' sentiments. It felt like a real conversation. The screen quieted for a moment as fans, thinking he was actually reading the chat, became ecstatic, shifting from the hidden marriage topic to expressions of love. Even the angry fans paused, expressing their hurt and affection instead.
He looked truly happy. Perhaps his previous coldness was due to the guilt of not being able to go public? Or perhaps his family had finally given him the strength to open up his heart? Regardless, seeing a smiling Ji Xiu made them unable to stay bitter.
…
Ji Xiu didn't talk to the camera for long because the car soon arrived at the airport.
Seeing Ji Xiu talking to a strange black machine, Ji Xiaocong blinked in bewilderment. He came over and pulled at Ji Xiu’s hand. "Daddy, get out of car-car."
Since leaving the house, he had been "tsundere," refusing to call him Dad because he was mad that Ji Xiu took him away from Mommy. But at this moment, out of habit, the word slipped out. Ji Xiu snapped back to attention, looked at the adorable toddler, and felt his heart melt. He waved to the camera, got out, and led Xiaocong into the airport.
While the world outside was in an uproar, Ji Xiu and his son boarded the plane to Yunnan.
The first episode was to be filmed in a border town. It was a peaceful and beautiful place, said to be a vital stop on the Ancient Tea Horse Road. Even today, it retained the fragrance of tea and a sense of history—a secluded spot far from the internet and crowds. To protect the artists' privacy, the specific location was kept out of the frame.
Ji Xiu and Xiaocong arrived early. Only one other guest was there: Yang Qianye.
Yang Qianye was in his forties, with a deep furrow between his brows. Having spent years playing high-ranking, powerful characters, he carried an air of stern authority. Beside him stood a little girl in a pink princess dress and a tiara, looking bored as she crushed ants on the ground with the toe of her shoe.
Ji Xiaocong took one look, hugged his plush rabbit tighter, and hid behind Ji Xiu.
Ji Xiu’s expression turned subtle. He patted the boy's shoulder protectively. Through their recent time together, he realized Xiaocong was a very sensitive child. Having only had Xu Yun by his side for years, the boy was incredibly accurate at sensing the emotions of others.
If Ji Xiu looked stern at home but wasn't actually angry, Xiaocong would play fearlessly. But if Ji Xiu was truly annoyed, even if he was smiling, Xiaocong would hide in his room. Ji Xiu had learned to never get angry at home after seeing this. Now, arriving here and seeing Yang Qianye’s pair, the boy's refusal to move forward was a clear sign.
In the previous life, Yang Qianye and his daughter were the "toxins" of this show. What was supposed to be a harmonious "slow life" variety show turned into a battlefield of schemes and conflict because of them. Neither the father nor the daughter was good news.
Ji Xiu had warned Director Wang to avoid inviting problematic artists, but Wang had clearly prioritized drama over harmony. Regardless, Ji Xiu wasn't afraid. He wouldn't let Xiaocong come to any harm.
Ji Xiu shielded Xiaocong and walked over to Yang Qianye, offering a calm, polite smile. Yang Qianye turned around, his eyes flashing with a hint of disdain and dismissal as he gave a flat response.
He was from Hong Kong and had debuted earlier than Ji Xiu, winning a Best Actor award there twenty years ago when Hong Kong cinema dominated Asia. He had been incredibly famous then, so even though the industry had declined and he had few roles now, he remained arrogant toward the younger generation of mainland actors.
His daughter, Yang Zhenzhen, saw Ji Xiu and her eyes lit up. She walked up to him, scanned him with a judging look, and said in a patronizing tone: "You look really good."
Her voice was arrogant, as if a high-and-mighty princess was deigning to praise a servant, expecting him to "thank her for the favor."
Ji Xiu: "Hmm?"
The live stream bullet comments exploded:
【Even the anti-fans can't stand the Yangs' attitude! Ji Xiu might have hidden his marriage, but he's a Triple Gold Film Emperor. What is Yang Qianye? One award twenty years ago? He's a washed-up old man acting tough in front of Ji Xiu?】
【And his daughter—she has the same rugged face as her dad, wearing that Barbie pink dress thinking she’s a real princess?】
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