The director standing nearby watched the two people inside the studio. “I feel like they really got into it when they shot the second version of the cover. The atmosphere feels just right.”
Because this version truly captured their real state. Lin Mo, who was reviewing the original footage, didn’t say anything, just smiled and glanced at Xia Xiqing, who was sitting in a chair with his head tilted back, letting the makeup artist style his hair. The lines of his neck were beautiful and elegant.
When his gaze shifted downward, it inadvertently met Zhou Ziheng’s eyes.
The hostility in this guy’s eyes was just too obvious.
Lin Mo shrugged toward Zhou Ziheng in the distance.
“It’s almost ready.”
At that moment, the lighting team leader walked over to the director’s side, “Director Zhang, they discovered a small issue while checking the voltage earlier. It might need to be addressed.”
The two had little time to rest and began the interview immediately, still in makeup. The female host who had been arranged earlier had been waiting nearby for a long time and only started the interview once they both sat down.
At first, the questions were simple. Xia Xiqing wasn’t afraid of the camera and, being accustomed to pretending, was skilled at handling others’ questions. Zhou Ziheng, on the other hand, spoke very little, with each answer rarely exceeding three sentences.
“After the first episode of ‘Escape to Heaven’ aired, it almost became a phenomenon-level reality show, with impressive ratings and a lot of online discussion. I’d like to ask Ziheng, did you anticipate such a high level of discussion when you were recording the show?”
Zhou Ziheng thought for a moment, “Um… no, at the time, I didn’t have the energy to think about anything else. I just wanted to escape.”
The host was amused by his serious answer and turned to Xia Xiqing, “What about you, Xiqing? As a fan, you got to appear on TV for the first time with your idol on a reality show. Were you excited?”
He wasn’t excited at all. Zhou Ziheng thought to himself.
“Yes,” Xia Xiqing smiled. “Don’t let my calm demeanor fool you. I was actually very excited because I’ve liked Ziheng for a long time, so having this opportunity to work with him really felt like winning the lottery.”
He sure knows how to put it nicely. Zhou Ziheng looked at his profile, his smile almost flawless.
“We all know you became an overnight sensation at the Seagull press conference. Can you share your feelings at the time with us?”
Xia Xiqing slowly blinked his eyes. “Hmm… It was actually quite a coincidence. That was my first time attending a live event as a fan,” he laughed, “so I really didn’t expect to end up on camera. After I got home that day, I just went to sleep. I had no idea I was trending on social media until my friends told me. So the whole process was a bit of a blur.”
Zhou Ziheng couldn’t help but recall the first time he met Xia Xiqing.
At the time, he was standing in the hotel corridor when his phone was accidentally knocked out of his hand by his bodyguard. He felt sorry for the bodyguard and picked up the phone, returning it to him personally.
When he looked up and met Xia Xiqing’s gaze, Zhou Ziheng had to admit that he was indeed stunned by his clean, beautiful face.
The host laughed, “To be honest, when I saw that video, I felt the same way as everyone else—that this guy is so good-looking. So, Xiqing, do you have any plans to enter the entertainment industry in the future?”
This was a difficult question to answer. Zhou Ziheng, sitting beside him, quickly realized that after all these years in the industry, he had become somewhat sensitive. If he directly answered that he had no interest, while still participating in the reality show’s recording, he would inevitably be mocked by those who disliked him for “backtracking.” If he answered that he did have such aspirations, he would be accused of being too ambitious.
Xia Xiqing tilted his head. “Well, I study art, and in my eyes, all art is interconnected. Whether it’s visual art, music, or even performance, as long as there’s something that interests me, the form of expression doesn’t matter. So since it’s all art, why bother distinguishing between different circles?”
His rhetoric was truly impressive.
“That makes sense,” the host turned to Zhou Ziheng, “Speaking of which, although you’re not very old, you’re already a senior in the entertainment industry. Can you reveal your career plans for the second half of the year? Many fans are curious about whether you’ll star in a romantic film. After all, you’ve been acting for so many years, and you’ve never had a kissing scene yet. Everyone finds that a bit disappointing.”
When asked this question, Zhou Ziheng suddenly froze, “Um… regarding romantic scenes…” He stammered for a moment, “Actually, there are no such scenes in my upcoming projects for the second half of the year. Yes, I still want to focus on realistic themes, such as marginalized groups or other overlooked issues. As an actor, I hope to use my performances and influence to draw attention to social phenomena and provide positive guidance. Yeah.”
He suddenly started talking more, but it was all to divert the topic.
There were no kissing scenes. Xia Xiqing thought about it and realized that was indeed the case. Before reaching adulthood, it was impossible, and after becoming an adult, the plays he acted in rarely had scenes with female celebrities.
“Is Zhou Ziheng twenty years old this year?” The host persistently focused on the emotional aspect, “Have your family members mentioned anything about allowing you to date? Everyone is curious about your romantic history, as you’ve essentially grown up under the public eye.”
Xia Xiqing couldn’t help but look at Zhou Ziheng. Zhou Ziheng’s expression was relatively calm, but Xia Xiqing noticed that he slightly pursed his lips—a gesture he only made when he was nervous.
“My schedule is very busy every day… How should I put it? I might not even have time to go home. I think matters of the heart are all about fate.” As he spoke, Zhou Ziheng smiled at the camera.
“It’s all about fate…” That’s a pretty official answer.
But does his response mean he has no romantic experience? Xia Xiqing couldn’t help but turn his head to look at him, and Zhou Ziheng’s first reaction was to avoid his gaze.
“I see.” The host asked with a smile, “Then, on behalf of all the women watching, let me ask you the question we’re most interested in: what kind of girl is your ideal type?”
Zhou Ziheng raised his hand to touch his neck, his eyes drifting off as if recalling something. “Hmm… someone who is kind, gentle, and can give people a sense of healing and warmth.”
None of that applies to me, Xia Xiqing thought with a self-deprecating smile, but his sharp intuition told him that Zhou Ziheng’s standards were meant to imply something else.
Perhaps he really did have feelings for someone in the past.
That makes sense. They’re both adults in their twenties now. After all these years, how could they not have been attracted to anyone?
“So Ziheng likes that angelic type of girl, huh? I feel like there’s a story behind this.” The host joked, but was quickly rebutted by Zhou Ziheng, “No, no.” He hesitated, then finally let go of the microphone.
“What about Xiqing? Your ideal type is…”
Before he could finish, the lights in the studio suddenly went out, plunging the room into complete darkness.
“What’s going on? Did the circuit breaker trip?” The female host was startled herself.
It felt like someone had suddenly grabbed him by the throat, making it difficult to breathe. Xia Xiqing felt a chill run through his body, and hisfingers instinctively gripped the leather surface of the sofa, like a drowning person clinging to a lifeline.
Her heartbeat grew faster and faster.
It was unbearable.
Suddenly, a warm, dry hand covered his own, and a wave of warmth spread through the darkness. But the hand seemed hesitant, lifting away quickly after covering his fingers, then retreating involuntarily before finally clasping his icy wrist.
For some reason, his breathing gradually returned to normal. Xia Xiqing endured the discomfort and forced himself to shift his focus.
Other voices began to emerge around him—the video crew shouting instructions to the lighting crew, the lighting crew apologizing repeatedly, and the interview team negotiating and communicating.
But there was no sound from Zhou Ziheng.
He was unusually silent.
But that hand continued to grip Xia Xiqing’s wrist tightly, a steady flow of warmth enveloping him, attempting to calm his erratic heartbeat.
Xia Xiqing, breathing heavily, turned his head. It was like a hallucination—in his vision, there seemed to be a faintly glowing line of starlight extending from his wrist, outlining the silhouette of a person in the darkness that swallowed everything, sparkling and shimmering.
He felt an inexplicable sense of reassurance.
“Alright, alright, the voltage has been restored.”
Almost instantly, as darkness gave way to light, the hand swiftly and silently withdrew.
One by one, the lights came back on, and everything returned to normal. What had happened in the brief darkness became a secret fairy tale. When the clock struck twelve, the magical effect completely faded.
Xia Xiqing stared blankly at his empty wrist. After a moment, he turned to look at Zhou Ziheng beside him. Still wearing his black hooded jacket, Zhou’s expression was indifferent. His left hand, which was still holding the microphone as it had been before the accident, remained distant from him, while his other hand was tucked into his jacket pocket.
“The machine is set up. We need to cut that part out and start over.”
Zhou Ziheng hummed in response and adjusted his posture in front of the camera.
Just as no one knew about the secret handholding in the darkness, no one knew that his right hand, hidden in his pocket, was covered in fine beads of sweat.
He couldn’t control his body subconsciously. The conditioned reflex had already formed in the darkness, just like he couldn’t control his heartbeat. As soon as he gripped it, he began to tremble. The effect lasted so long that even when the light returned, his heart still beat rapidly with a sense of guilt.
“Back to the previous question,” the female host asked with a smile, “Xiqing, what is your ideal type?”
Xia Xiqing, who had already composed himself, looked up at the camera with a smile. “Well… actually, before the lights went out, I had already thought of an answer. My ideal type is someone who is as captivating as a work of art.” His fingers tapped lightly on the microphone, and his left wrist felt slightly warm. “But now I have a different idea.”
Zhou Ziheng couldn’t help but purse his lips, clenching his right hand in his pocket.
“Do you want to change your answer? What about now?”
“Now…” Xia Xiqing’s lips curved slightly, the curve soft, “a person radiating light.”
Compared to the boundless night sky, the light of a single star is so faint.
But as long as he is there, it is not pure darkness.
“No wonder you study art; your descriptions are so abstract and literary. But I also feel that such a sunny personality can give people great strength. In this regard, I think your ideal types actually have some similarities.”
The host looked at the cue cards, “Now it’s time for questions from the audience. Before this interview, we collected some questions from the audience, and here we’ve selected the ones with the most likes to ask you two. The first question: After the broadcast of Escape from Heaven, the audience gave your CP a name, Self-Study CP. Do you know about this?”
Zhou Ziheng nodded, “Yes, I know.”
“I also know they call themselves the Self-Study Girls.” Xia Xiqing laughed, “That’s probably the most studious fan nickname I’ve ever heard.”
“So should we choose the library as the location for our meetup?” Zhou Ziheng, who had been silent all along, suddenly switched to a dry humor mode.
Although the joke was dry, Xia Xiqing graciously caught it, “We all received nine years of compulsory education, so why are the Self-Study Girls so outstanding?”
“Haha, you two are so funny.” The host also laughed along, “The second question is from a netizen asking Xiqing, why did you like Sui Rui and your CP blog? Are you also close with Sui Rui in private?”
Upon hearing this question, Zhou Ziheng instinctively wanted to frown, but quickly realized they were recording, so he managed to maintain a calm expression.
With the current CP frenzy involving the three of them at its peak, such questions were almost inevitable.
Surprisingly, Xia Xiqing, who was asked the question, paused for a moment, looking confused as he asked, “Who liked it? Me?”
“Huh? No…” The host was amused by his initial reaction, opened his phone, and navigated to Xia Xiqing’s Weibo homepage. “Yes, look, it’s still on your homepage.”
Xia Xiqing took the phone and glanced at it. Sure enough, he had liked this CP post, and it had been there for so many days. It was a huge mistake.
“This… I think I accidentally liked it.” Xia Xiqing returned the phone to the host and joked, “Eating watermelon has its risks; be careful not to slip.”
“So it was an accidental slip?” the host teased with a laugh, “Then your CP fans with Sui Rui might be heartbroken.”
For some reason, hearing his response, Zhou Ziheng suddenly felt a sense of relief—no, to be precise, it should be a sense of clarity.
“No, no,” Xia Xiqing hurriedly explained, “Siri and I have a good relationship. He’s like my younger brother, very cute. We chat privately too.”
Well, Zhou Ziheng’s mood, which had just improved, plummeted again after his explanation.
Like a roller coaster.
“Right, Si Rui even posted the drawing you made for him online. You’re really good friends.” The host chimed in.
Xia Xiqing nodded.
The host asked Zhou Ziheng several more questions, but Zhou Ziheng, whose mood was fluctuating wildly, wasn’t in the right state of mind. Each of his answers was brief and official, significantly shortening the interview time. Despite this, it was Zhou Ziheng’s usual state during interviews, so no one thought anything of it.
“The final question is from a netizen asking Xiqing: Why did you choose to keep your hair long? According to our country’s aesthetic standards, most normal men would opt for short hair. While long hair may look good, it lacks masculinity—in other words, it’s a bit feminine. Wouldn’t short hair make you more manly?”
This question was a bit awkward, and even the host’s tone softened. After reading the question, he smiled professionally and subtly, “Um, this netizen might be more into a masculine aesthetic, haha.”
What I do with my hair is none of your business.
That was Xia Xiqing’s first reaction.
Although he wasn’t very happy, putting on a show was his specialty. Xia Xiqing maintained his composure and smiled gently as he explained, “Actually, I’m just too lazy. I was busy with an art exhibition abroad and didn’t even have enough time to sleep, let alone get a haircut. Plus, a lot of guys abroad have long hair, so it’s pretty normal. I think aesthetics are a very personal thing. If everything were standardized, the world wouldn’t be as interesting.”
The host also felt that Xia Xiqing was already quite polite and well-mannered, so he quickly added.
“Right, aesthetics should be diverse. Actually, regarding the question earlier about normal guys not choosing short hair, I also feel a bit… how should I put it? I once read a sentence in a book: ‘The constant expansion of the definition of ‘normal people’ is one of the most outstanding contributions of modern civilization,’ so…” The host was trying to smooth things over, but Zhou Ziheng suddenly spoke up.
“Normal people,” Zhou Ziheng’s voice was calm and composed, “who defines the category of ‘normal people’?”
His tone didn’t really have much emotional fluctuation, as if it were the most commonplace question, but for some reason, it had a kind of intimidating power, and even the female host sitting across from him didn’t react for a moment.
Zhou Ziheng’s deep-set eyes fixed on the camera as he articulated his viewpoint, “If this evaluation system is determined by a portion of our peers, can I also redefine a new set of standards? For example, men can grow long hair and wear skirts, choosing to stand on the side that is protected, while women can break free from long-standing biases and constraints and do whatever they want.”
No one in the studio had expected Zhou Ziheng to ask such a question, and the host’s professional composure was completely thrown off by his presence.
Even Xia Xiqing was deeply shaken.
Up until that moment, Xia Xiqing had been confident that he had figured Zhou Ziheng out. In his mind, this man had a naturally charismatic face and build, but his heart was as pure and even naive as a child’s.
But now, he realized he was wrong. He hadn’t seen through the truly powerful core of this man’s heart.
Zhou Ziheng leaned back against the sofa, his expression calm as he ignored the camera, then continued with his previous line of reasoning, “Just like the classic ‘color blindness paradox,’ how can we prove that we are normal people, rather than abnormal people under another set of evaluation criteria?”
The interview scene suddenly fell silent, the topic suddenly becoming profound and sensitive—something no one had anticipated.
Xia Xiqing, however, smiled, his tone casual and unconcerned.
“Exactly.”
“We are born to be ourselves, not just to become ‘normal people.’”
Author’s Note: Science Popularization: What is the color blindness paradox?
There was a man with a peculiar form of color blindness. The two colors he saw were different from those seen by others—he perceived blue as green and green as blue.
However, he himself was unaware that he was different from others. While others saw the sky as blue, he saw it as green, but both used the same term, “blue”; while others saw grass as green, he saw it as blue, but he referred to blue as “green.” Thus, neither he nor others realized his difference.
First question: How can we make him aware that he is different from others?
Second question: How can you prove that you are not the protagonist in the above scenario?
This is a very classic paradox in history. Zhou Ziheng, the “university tyrant,” cited this paradox here to refute the netizen’s view that “normal boys don’t grow long hair” and to question what constitutes a “normal person” and how one can prove that they are normal. This demonstrates that the question itself is meaningless.
This is not about whether we should choose to be part of the majority; that is a matter of choice, a matter of the individual.
Zhou Ziheng is discussing the validity of the category of “normal.” In other words, whenever the term ‘normal’ is used, there must be an opposite category labeled as “abnormal.” For example, if society were to recognize homosexuality as normal, would that make heterosexuality abnormal? (Here, I am referring to the notion that the two are opposites in most people’s minds, but in reality, sexual orientation does not have opposites and may even overlap.)
In Zhou Ziheng’s view, the existence of the term “normal” is a paradox, and its rationality cannot be proven. Of course, we must exclude human nature from the discussion, otherwise we may end up with the sophistry that “antisocial personality disorder” is also normal.
It has nothing to do with personal choice; everyone has the right to choose any lifestyle they want. This is a micro-level concept.
In my personal opinion, no one should be restricted by any category in terms of the possibilities of life. There is no need to become a “normal person” just to be “normal.”
