Early on February 14th, Weibo went down.
This wasn’t the first time such an incident had occurred, but it had never happened at six in the morning. Upon opening the app, it would crash repeatedly, the search bar remained blank, and the homepage failed to load any content. This state persisted for over three hours before being resolved.
Many users who had enabled push notifications from major news portals found their phone lock screens flooded with Berlin Film Festival award results the moment they woke up.
In reality, Berlin and Beijing share a nearly seven-hour time difference. The awards ceremony commenced at 7 PM local time on February 13th, with the Best Actor award presented at 8:30 PM. Many fans who couldn’t stay up to watch the live stream had set alarms to catch the results—only to be greeted by spoilers flooding their phones the moment they opened their eyes.
Headlines like [Zhou Ziheng Snatches Silver Bear as Dark Horse, Century-Defining Confession Stuns Global Audience, Zixi CP is Real!] nearly sent many fans into shock.
Those who had stayed up all night watching the festival livestream were left trembling with shock. Initially, hearts were pounding in anticipation of the awards. Finally, the Best Director award arrived—only for Kun Cheng to miss out. The outcome was disappointing, and even Director Kun didn’t win. Zhou Ziheng’s solo fans and CP shippers saw their hopes plummet further. Though they kept telling themselves that a nomination alone was already amazing, the disappointment lingered—like watching the award slip away before their very eyes.
When the host announced Zhou Ziheng’s name in broken Mandarin, the live stream’s comment section exploded. The screen flooded with multicolored [Zhou Ziheng is awesome!!!]. But as Zhou delivered his closing remarks, the comments took a bizarre turn.
[Wait, something feels off…]
[“After meeting someone”—holy shit, is Zhou Ziheng going public? No way, please don’t!!]
[Oh my god, don’t tell me it’s Song Nian!!! Song Nian, why are you crying? Don’t you dare cry!!!]
[Solo fans have given up fighting…]
[Zi-Heng, no! Mom won’t allow it!!!]
The moment Zhou Zi-Heng uttered Xia Xiqing’s name, the live stream’s comments exploded. Everything imaginable flooded the screen like a frenzy, with “Holy shit” dominating the feed.
[Holy shit!!! He just blew himself up!]
[Self-destruction is contagious!!!]
[Holy crap, is this real?!]
By the end, the screen showed Xia Xiqing’s tear-filled face. The comments suddenly turned pink, flooded with [Self-Study is Rio!] until Zhou Ziheng stepped down, watching Xia Xiqing smile as he walked back to his seat.
The emotional rollercoaster of the self-study girls was like riding a roller coaster, repeatedly reviving and dying.
Overall, the early morning Weibo crash was one-third due to the self-study CP fans’ celebration, one-third due to the CP fans and solo fans’ heated arguments, and the remaining one-third was the innocent bystanders who woke up early only to be bombarded with this spectacle.
Weibo started malfunctioning at 5:30 AM. Sleep-deprived engineers and programmers were forced to fire up their computers for an early morning overtime shift, cursing Zhou Ziheng’s masterstroke as they worked.
Of course, they weren’t the only ones working overtime. Countless media outlets, big and small, joined the fray. Even journalists couldn’t resist venting on social media: “Could celebrities please announce their relationships, marriages, divorces—anything public—during regular business hours? Seriously, Berlin Film Festival, picking Valentine’s Day for this? Thanks a bunch!”
One reply below added: “Zhou Ziheng winning the award was enough to make us work overtime. But winning it and then announcing it? That’s just too showy, way too showy.”
By the time Weibo was finally restored to a barely functional state, the trending topics were almost entirely dominated by Zhou Ziheng— [Zhou Ziheng Silver Bear Best Actor], [Self-Study is Rio], [Zhou Ziheng’s Century-Defining Silver Bear Confession], [Zhou Ziheng Stalking], [Zhou Ziheng Confesses to Xia Xiqing]. Even [Self-Study Girl] trended, along with a hilarious search term from clueless netizens: [Why Did Weibo Crash?].
Beyond these poor overworked employees, Jiang Yin suffered the most. She had flown to Berlin specifically for the awards ceremony, only to face a delayed flight. The moment she landed, her phone blew up—that’s when she learned Zhou Ziheng had confessed during the ceremony.
“Are you out of your mind?! You’re driving me crazy! You…” Jiang Yin was so furious she could barely speak. Her professional instincts kicked in, filling her mind with thoughts of how to handle the PR fallout, how to maximize the buzz from this incident, and how to counter the rival teams trying to exploit it for negative publicity. On the other end, Zhou Ziheng just kept apologizing, even laughing, showing zero remorse.
“Forget it. You two stay put. Go to the hotel and wait for me.”
Zhou Ziheng’s fanbase differed from many mainstream stars. He had previously been a nationally beloved child actor with solid skills, boasting fewer die-hard fans but a broad appeal. His national popularity truly translated into tangible viewership after the broadcast of Escape from Heaven.
This reality show and its two main guests had a mutually beneficial relationship. Consequently, most of the fans he gained from the program were CP shippers. His other fanbase was largely the opposite—predominantly toxic solo fans. Even Xia Xiqing’s solo fans and CP shippers were split almost evenly. Due to the sheer volume of online backlash he endured, many CP shippers had been driven to become solo fans. Of course, there was also a small contingent of “boyfriend fans” from the gay community.
Zhou Ziheng’s fanbase is peculiar: a large proportion of die-hard CP shippers, a moderate number of casual fans, and a small group of toxic solo shippers. This composition inevitably led to the overwhelming dominance of the “Zi-Xi Girls” across the internet.
Publicizing a romance is a risky move for celebrities, easily exploited for sensationalism—especially for young male stars with large female fanbases. To preempt rival teams, Jiang Yin took proactive measures: heavily promoting Zhou Ziheng’s Silver Bear Best Actor win while directing gossip accounts and influencers to leverage the buzz through humorous memes. The first step involved capturing footage from the late-night award ceremony livestream and posting it online alongside fan comments from that evening. The dramatic nature of the live chat itself became a major source of humor, with the phrase [Self-Study Girl on a Rollercoaster] sparking widespread amusement. Amidst the fan community’s revelry, various memes quickly spread.
A marketing account with over a million followers posted an image featuring a radiant Buddha-like glow in the background, with a silhouette of a small figure in the center bearing four characters: 自习女孩 (Self-Study Girl).
[@Gossip-Loving Fish-Eater: Retweet this Self-Study Girl, and your ship will come true!]
Riding the wave of the “self-study girl makes it real” meme, this Weibo post garnered over 30,000 reposts within an hour, shared voraciously by various shipping fan communities. Now, the self-study girl even has a persona—the lucky charm of shipping fans.
Capitalizing on the buzz, Jiang Yin highlighted Zhou Ziheng’s past achievements. Moreover, Zhou Ziheng’s most compelling trait is his personal charm, which Jiang Yin decided to emphasize in her PR strategy. Effective PR isn’t just about deflection. When public attention can be harnessed to showcase someone’s strengths and win over the masses, even if rivals later launch smear campaigns, the public is unlikely to buy into them. This is the psychological phenomenon known as the primacy effect.
Screenshots from Zhou Ziheng’s past interviews, footage of his English speech contest at P University, and videos of his team’s physics competitions were all posted online, quickly sparking public discussion.
[@FieldsOfHope: Can’t deny it—Zhou Ziheng is a true academic prodigy. His English pronunciation and logical reasoning skills are elite-level. He’d succeed even without acting.]
[@IHaveNoIdea: That physics competition is incredibly difficult.]
[@Whatever: I still remember Zhou Ziheng’s earlier discussion on the scope of the term “normal.” It was truly mind-blowing—he’s no ordinary person. Honestly, when people now call him love-obsessed, it’s laughable from an outsider’s perspective. If someone like Zhou Ziheng is labeled love-obsessed, then most of us ordinary folks must be brainless.]
[@123HoldingHands: Regardless, going public with a relationship is kinda… emmmm…]
[@TrollShouldGoPushEngines replies to @123HoldingHands: I don’t care if other celebs go public, but why shouldn’t Zhou Ziheng? He doesn’t rely on fans, he’s not an idol, and he won a Silver Bear for Best Actor at 21. What’s wrong with him going public?]
[@BambooCute: When Xia Xiqing came out, they went public soon after. That was clearly planned. Not being jealous, but they actually make a good pair.]
[@JiriJiri: Not a fan, but wasn’t Xia Xiqing’s coming out forced? How did it become “planned”? Netizens really have short memories.]
[@DingDingDingDingDing: One’s a child prodigy, youngest Silver Bear winner studying physics at Peking University. The other’s a stunning, academically gifted artist descended from a sculptor tycoon. They’re a match made in heaven—no one else could possibly be right for each other.]
…
The online debate raged on, while Xi Girls were still reveling in the frenzy. Most amusing was a major XiCP fan site launching a special feature: they phone-interviewed numerous Xi Girls, compiling the audio clips into a montage. The video’s sheer absurdity quickly became a viral sensation, spreading like wildfire.
The site admin first called her best friend, who’d been grinding CP fanfics since midnight and slept until 10 AM. Jolted awake by the call, she answered groggily.
Admin: “Self-study is real.”
Friend: “…” Repeated sleepily, “Self-study is real.”
Administrator, emphasizing: “The study session is real!”
Friend, thinking she wasn’t being sincere enough, echoed without conviction: “The study session is real!”
Administrator, furious: “No, I mean THE STUDY SESSION IS REAL!!! REAL IS REAL!!”
Buddy: “…What’s your problem? I just woke up, don’t bother me! Real is real, okay…”
Administrator sighed and explained in one breath without pausing: “Zhou Ziheng confessed to Xia Xiqing at the Berlin Film Festival awards ceremony. Oh, and by the way, Zhou Ziheng won an award.”
Buddy: “……… ……………Holy shit…………I don’t believe it!! Holy shit holy shit holy shit, where’s my phone holy shit holy shit Zhou Ziheng is awesome…”
Administrator: “Your phone is in your hand.” Smiled.
The second call. The administrator dialed the deputy administrator’s voice call.
Station Master: “Self-study is real.”
Deputy Station Master, weeping uncontrollably: “Waaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Deputy Station Manager suddenly shouts: “I can’t calm down!!! Ah!!! My self-study! My Hengheng, my Xiqing brother, you’re actually real wuwuwuwu, I’m going downstairs to run laps, no, I’m going to Berlin to find my self-study!”
Station Manager: “Your self-study is coming back tonight…”
Deputy Admin: “Then why did you call me?! We’re going to pick them up!! Waaah I need to prepare a wedding gift for Xueqing—don’t bother me! Get lost!”
Station Master: “……”
The entire video was a black screen with scrolling subtitles. When uploaded to Weibo, it first went viral within the fandom before accidentally breaking out into the mainstream, instantly becoming a source of joy across the entire internet.
[@CatWhoLovesFish: What kind of silly fans are these haha//@XiaDaDaWorldsCutest: The first girl is so adorable!! Still half-asleep and chanting along is just too cute!//@LemonSpirit: They’re chasing a top student CP, how can they be this silly haha, the fans and their idols are so mismatched. //@DidYouGetSourToday: The second girl screaming “Go pick them up at the airport!” had me laughing so hard—that’s me fangirling haha//@wodema: The admin stays so chill, no wonder they’re the admin haha//@LittleWhiteDragonInTheWaves: Nonstop highlights the whole time!]
With Zhou Ziheng’s acceptance speech video already shared over 250,000 times, netizens finally shifted their focus to the epic confession after endless meme-making.
[@Rainbow Pop Rocks: If this acceptance speech wasn’t ghostwritten by his team, I’d be seriously impressed.]
[@EntertainmentCircleTopDog: It wasn’t the team. The team couldn’t have written this. Zhou Ziheng’s consistent speaking style is this kind of engineering-minded thinking. If you don’t believe me, check out some of his previous public speeches.]
[@Gryffindor Little Treasure: Zhou Ziheng is absolutely stating facts. He only made realistic films before, tackling increasingly sensitive topics. He’s never made a bad movie or a romance film—that alone puts him leagues ahead of most young actors.]
[@Little Softshell Turtle: This acceptance speech is probably the most badass confession I’ve ever heard. Maybe it’s because Zhou Ziheng himself is legendary—studying physics while passionate about acting. Art and science seem worlds apart, yet they’ve merged perfectly in him. It’s romantic and utterly logical.]
[@AquariusGirl: I get Zhou Ziheng, and I get Xia Xiqing. When these two meet, falling for each other is inevitable—they’re just meant to be. Whether it’s family background or personal caliber, they’re a perfect match. P.S. Heard his mom works at the Chinese Academy of Sciences—not sure if it’s true.]
[@SelfStudyGirlLifeComplete: Fans can’t hype him like random passersby do, waaah. All I can say is, that ‘vessel’ metaphor is genius—and vice versa. Oh my god, I’m speechless.]
This CP frenzy kept building, with Zhou Ziheng’s final confession being widely imitated by netizens. It became a unique “Zhou Ziheng confession style,” and [Engineer-Style Confession] trended on social media.
At 11 PM, the main cast of Stalking landed at Beijing Capital Airport. Xia Xiqing had braced himself for attention, but the crowd exceeded his expectations. By midnight, the arrival hall was packed with fans—all dressed in pink, pink jackets, pink coats, a sea of girlish pink everywhere.
Xia Xiqing emerged wearing a blue down jacket and a gray knit beanie, his bare face looking fresh and adorable. Spotting the fans, he slipped one hand out of his pocket and smiled gently at them. “You all look so girly!”
All the fans screamed in unison, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Brother!!!”
“Happy Newlywed Anniversary, Brother!!!”
Newlywed… newlywed…
“Happy Newlywed Anniversary, Brother!!! May you live in harmony for a hundred years!!!”
“May the movie be a box office smash!!!”
Director Kun stood beside Xia Xiqing, both surrounded by bodyguards. As they walked forward, Xia Xiqing addressed the fans, “Did you get tickets? Let’s catch a movie tomorrow.”
Several fans beside them screamed while filming, “Ahhh, Brother Xiqing!” Another fan joked, “Tickets are sold out!”
Xia Xiqing nudged Director Kun’s shoulder. “Director, they say tickets are sold out.” His eyes crinkled in a smile as the pom-pom on his knit hat bobbed. “Then big bro will treat you all. We’ll rent out the whole theater. It’s the holidays, after all.”
“Really?!”
Xia Xiqing adopted a serious tone. “Of course it’s true.”
“Aaaah! Chasing a rich second-generation kid is the best!!”
“So happy!!”
“Hey, where’s Ziheng?” Everyone was chatting so excitedly that finally one fan noticed something was off.
Director Kun laughed. “He’s right behind us.”
All the fans had been captivated by Xia Xiqing, assuming the two were walking together. Only now did they realize Zhou Ziheng had been left behind, surrounded by bodyguards alongside Song Nian. Zhou Ziheng wore a red down jacket, very similar in style to Xia Xiqing’s. The funniest part was the black mask covering nearly his entire face, emblazoned with a giant white cross. His hood sported a slogan: Shut Up!
Seeing his gag, the fans found it both cool and hilarious. They tugged at Xia Xiqing, asking, “Brother Xiqing, what’s up with Hengheng?”
Xia Xiqing stifled a smile. “Oh, him? He talks too much. His agent put him on mute.”
“Hahahaha, a celebrity silenced by his agent.”
“A mask-style mute, hahaha.”
Zhou Ziheng, looking thoroughly annoyed, leveraged his towering height to finally squeeze behind Xia Xiqing. But he pushed too hard and accidentally knocked off Xia Xiqing’s shoe.
“Damn it, Zhou Ziheng! You stepped on my shoe!”
“Huh? I didn’t mean to.” Zhou Ziheng immediately bent down to look for it, but the scene was too chaotic. Everyone was being pushed along; finding a shoe was out of the question, let alone bending over.
“Hard to find. Step on my foot for now.” Zhou Ziheng didn’t care about the crowd anymore. He grabbed Xia Xiqing’s leg and made him place his foot on top of his own. Xia Xiqing shot him a disgusted look, but with no other option, he stepped onto Zhou Ziheng’s sneakers and used him as support to make his way out.
The entire venue erupted in screams, nearly piercing Kuncheng’s eardrums. He felt like an innocent bystander who’d accidentally stumbled into a groundhog’s burrow.
“Aaaah! My foot! I’m gonna die!”
“Holy crap! Brother Xiqing’s feet are so pretty!”
“They’re a whole size smaller than Zhou Ziheng’s!”
Xia Xiqing was utterly depressed. He’d just mocked Zhou Ziheng, and now he was the one suffering. He pinched Zhou Ziheng’s arm hard, gritting his teeth and muttering, “I regret it now. I want my probation back…”
“Too. Late.” Zhou Ziheng grinned triumphantly. Taking advantage of Xia Xiqing’s lost shoe, he casually draped his arm around Xia Xiqing’s shoulder—openly flaunting their affection.
Just when they thought this silly public display of affection had ended, the next day a Weibo post went viral. Everyone was tagging Xia Xiqing.
[@OneLuckySelfStudyGirl: This is a serious lost-and-found notice: @Tsing_Summer Xiqing bro, do you still want your shoe?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
An inexplicable Cinderella vibe…
Seeing this post, Xia Xiqing’s face broke into a vacant smile.
You put it that way… how could I possibly take them back now?
[@Tsing_Summer: DM me your address. I’ll send you the other one too. Let’s make it a pair for the holidays.]
