Chen Duo knew that Gu Yanqiu in this parallel universe was an obscure star. But the situation here was even worse than she had imagined.
The so-called concert was held in a café. There was a stage about three meters wide, pitifully small, with all the tables and chairs moved aside to save space.
A few girls trickled in, and by the time Chen Duo and the others arrived, there were fewer than twenty people.
Along the way, Chen Duo had already gotten to know them. The steady girl with the online name Moon was the group leader of Gu Yanqiu’s fan club. She had been a fan the longest, following him since his talent show days.
Looking at the cramped stage, Moon couldn’t help but feel her nose sting: “This stage was paid for by Qiuqiu himself. He has no commercial deals, no endorsements, no events—he’s been broke for a long time. This is his way of giving back to his fans.”
At these words, the more emotional girls nearby couldn’t hold back their tears.
It was truly heartbreaking to see the boy who once shone so brightly on stage lose his luster.
Chen Duo was different from everyone present—after all, she had crossed over from that other world.
In the past, she could never get a good spot for photos. Wherever a big star went, wasn’t it always with a huge entourage?
Now, she could get close to him. The stage was just a step away from the audience. She could witness the fan service of a major celebrity.
Chen Duo was thrilled. Over the next few minutes, more people trickled in.
Soon, Gu Yanqiu arrived as well, not even wearing sunglasses. He entered through the café’s front door and greeted each fan one by one.
He was genuinely handsome. Up close, he seemed to exist on a different plane from everyone else.
The fans erupted in a small wave of screams.
When Gu Yanqiu looked at Moon, he even spoke familiarly: “Thank you for organizing so many people. I was afraid no one would come.”
“How could that be? Everyone adores you,” Moon said, then introduced Chen Duo: “This is Duoduo, she’s a fan photographer.”
Gu Yanqiu looked at Chen Duo with a gentle smile: “Thank you for coming.”
Chen Duo was instantly exhilarated. As a ten-year devoted fan of Gu Yanqiu from another era, she was truly excited: “I really like you. Keep going, I’ll always support you.”
Accustomed to his long-standing obscurity, Gu Yanqiu’s fans were usually restrained and calm. Suddenly faced with such fervent affection, he was momentarily at a loss: “Thank you.” He didn’t know what else to say.
Chen Duo had really hit the jackpot this time. She even thought that if her fellow fans from the other parallel universe knew she could get this close to her idol, they’d probably be green with envy.
Only those who chase stars would understand how lucky she was.
Soon, Gu Yanqiu stepped onto the stage: “Thank you all for coming to my concert.” He paused, unable to continue. A stage with just one step, no band, a three-meter space where even a lead dancer couldn’t move freely.
Below, only a handful of people sat. Words like “concert” felt too grandiose, almost shameless.
There wasn’t even a staff member on stage—twenty pairs of eyes watched him press play on the accompaniment track.
It was truly a makeshift troupe—cheap, shabby.
And from below, Chen Duo could even see his unease.
Soon, the speakers crackled to life. He struck a pose on stage and began singing to the rhythm.
This song, “Heart,” was one Chen Duo knew well—it had carried him through battles and victories during his talent show days.
Many people in the audience sang along. Without glow sticks, they turned on their phone flashlights and swayed to the rhythm, while others recorded him with their phones.
Chen Duo had heard many versions of “Heart”—at concerts in stadiums packed with thousands, during Apple TV’s galas, and the acoustic guitar version on travel variety shows. Those were filled with such high spirits and confidence.
But she had never heard it like this—sorrowful, tranquil, as if it were the closing song of youth. Perhaps Gu Yanqiu himself knew that even a small stage like this was beyond his reach.
Maybe the era that belonged to him ended before it even began.
On stage, he poured his heart out, sweating profusely as he sang, danced, and rapped. He performed one song after another without showing any sign of fatigue. The audience below cheered enthusiastically; though there were only twenty people, their energy felt like a hundred. Even passersby outside the café would glance inside upon hearing the waves of excitement.
It was as if he wanted to drain himself completely, singing every song he knew. There was even a segment where the audience could request songs.
Just as everyone was at the peak of excitement, a café manager came out and said, “Sorry, your time is up. Please wrap it up soon.”
Those words felt like a bucket of cold water poured over them. Drenched in sweat, Gu Yanqiu looked awkward as he stood on stage and asked, “Has it already been two hours?”
“Yes,” the staff member replied.
Someone in the audience asked, “How much to extend the time?”
“One thousand per hour,” the staff member answered.
The fans spontaneously suggested, “Let’s add two more hours. Moon, you pay first, and we’ll collect the money in the group chat later. We can pool our resources.”
Moon agreed with a hum. They wanted to resolve the situation quickly and spare the person on stage from embarrassment.
But most of the fans were students. Each person would have to contribute a hundred—money that would come straight from their meal budgets.
Gu Yanqiu was also out of money. Seeing his fans pooling money so he could fulfill his stage dreams made him uneasy. Though he hadn’t had his fill today, he had no choice but to say, “Maybe we should just call it a day. There might be other opportunities in the future.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Gu Yanqiu knew he was lying. A wave of sadness washed over him.
Suddenly, the same staff member returned and said, “The gentleman outside has paid for the entire evening. You can stay as long as you like. He also ordered coffee and snacks for everyone.” Then, he pointed outside.
Xu Kaiming was standing outside, eating ice cream with an air of boredom. Clearly, he wasn’t fond of noisy environments.
Moon recognized him instantly. “It’s Duoduo’s boyfriend.”
Everyone chimed in, “Thank you, Duoduo!”
Even Gu Yanqiu showed his gratitude. “What song would you like to hear? I’ll sing whatever I know.”
Chen Duo said, “Starship.”
He looked surprised. “How did you know I wrote that song?” Then, he explained to everyone, “I’ve never released it. This is the first time I’m singing it.”
He then sat down and began singing softly, “Many years later, I will still remember your encouragement, guiding me forward like stars in the night…”
His voice was gentle yet resolute. As he sang, he noticed tears welling up in the eyes of the audience below.
He wasn’t an idol, but he was fortunate enough to have so many people who loved him. He also remembered those days and nights from that summer, competing alongside everyone in the talent show.
Even though he was later framed by scandal, who could deny that he had once lived vibrantly and passionately in this world?
Suddenly, a flash of white light snapped him back to reality. Before he knew it, a telephoto lens-like camera had appeared—it was Chen Duo.
He remembered her—she was a fan photographer, and her boyfriend had even helped resolve the venue issue.
Chen Duo took a few more photos. Her familiarity with Gu Yanqiu was bone-deep, but she had never seen him like this—fragile yet with a hint of resilience. It was utterly captivating, so she raised her camera and shot.
Perhaps those on stage all had a bit of a “crowd mania.” Although he had already gone through a round of singing and dancing, the presence of someone photographing him revitalized his spirits, and he started performing again.
Even Xu Kaiming outside couldn’t help but feel impressed—being a star wasn’t for everyone. Performing live for four hours straight was truly remarkable.
By the time Gu Yanqiu was completely exhausted, he bowed and thanked each person who had attended.
When Chen Duo pulled out her massive camera earlier, even he was startled.
It was so unexpected that he nearly messed up his moves on stage. These fan photographer cameras were incredibly expensive—he had seen other superstars being photographed like this at the airport and had felt a twinge of envy.
He grew excited, as if a surge of immense energy had been injected into his body.
Performing the same routines he had danced thousands of times felt entirely different this time.
After finishing, drenched in sweat, he returned to a van and headed back to the company.
The only place in this city that could remotely be called home was the company’s practice room.
The lights were on 24/7, and when he was tired, he could simply lie down on the floor to rest.
His body was utterly exhausted, but his spirit was incredibly exhilarated.
He had actually self-funded a concert. Though the venue was small, the audience was real.
It was truly thrilling.
A short while later, laughter and chatter approached from outside.
The moment the door was pushed open, the voices abruptly stopped. Then, trainee Jin Yuchen remarked, “Brother Qiu, don’t tell me you went to the concert looking like this? That outfit is way too low-end.”
The clothes he was wearing were a trendy brand he had bought with his own money—stylish but of mediocre quality. He hadn’t changed outfits during the four hours of singing and dancing, and now his clothes were soaked with sweat, clinging to his skin, with some areas even showing slight discoloration.
“First time I’ve heard of a café hosting a concert. Must’ve been packed, right?” a sarcastic voice chimed in. It was Li Ziyue, who had narrowly missed debuting—ranking twelfth when there were only eleven spots available.
Yet, they were in the same company. After the one-year limited group disbanded, Gu Yanqiu had no follow-up resources and quietly faded into obscurity, while Li Ziyue landed minor roles in web dramas and was now receiving film offers—far surpassing a has-been like him.
The entertainment industry was a true arena of fame and fortune. This practice room was meant for dance rehearsals, but whenever Li Ziyue showed up, his assistant would clear Gu Yanqiu out, claiming they needed to rehearse for a new project. Yet, even with the space cleared, Li Ziyue would just bring some skewers and hang out with other trainees, eating and drinking.
The trainee who had just mocked him, Jin Yuchen, was one of Li Ziyue’s lackeys.
Back when Gu Yanqiu was in the group, Jin Yuchen would greet him morning and night, acting more devoted than a real brother. But now that Gu Yanqiu had fallen out of favor, he immediately latched onto Li Ziyue and grew increasingly dismissive of him.
Gu Yanqiu detested this so-called high-EQ socializing and turned to leave.
His tolerance was seen by others as a sign of weakness. Li Ziyue said, “So what if you debuted? You still don’t have any performances.”
Gu Yanqiu originally didn’t want to speak with him, but today was his happiest day recently: “Don’t make me hit you on my happiest day.”
His expression immediately changed.
Gu Yanqiu stood at 185cm tall, and as a main dancer, he was quite robust—completely not on the same fighting level as those who had starved themselves to the point of gauntness for the camera.
After saying this, Gu Yanqiu walked away. The few people who had just been intimidated by him were immediately displeased. Who did he think he was?
“Pfft, what’s he pretending for? Does he really think he’s some superstar? Look at his unlucky face—he’ll never make it big.”
“Exactly.”
Chen Duo returned to the hotel and spent the entire time editing photos on her computer. In another timeline, she had also captured godly photos of the super celebrity Gu Yanqiu.
Now, her feelings were the most complicated. She had witnessed Gu Yanqiu’s glorious moments and also seen his sincere performances during his struggles.
All her thoughts and emotions converged and poured into the photographs.
Thus, another picture was born. In the play of light and shadow, the young man’s eyes blazed with intensity. Even in a coffee shop, even on the simplest of stages, he still gave his all. The light fell on his face, and in one fleeting moment, it even overlapped with the Gu Yanqiu from another timeline.
So dazzling. Like a star out of reach.
She directly opened a fan site for him: Gazing at the Stars.
Then she uploaded an extra-large high-definition photo.
In this picture, Gu Yanqiu seemed to gaze across time, meeting the eyes of the superstar Gu Yanqiu from a parallel universe.
A fan photographer’s lens carries emotion and warmth. Moreover, Chen Duo was Gu Yanqiu’s ten-year fan.
After uploading it, she reposted it to her own Weibo. Glancing at the time, it was already 3 a.m. She was exhausted and fell asleep as soon as she lay down.
Completely unaware of the shock her newly posted photo had brought to the night owls still awake.
“Holy shit, who is this? I need all his information in ten minutes.”
“I knew staying up late would bring heavenly rewards. He’s so handsome.”
“Who understands, folks? I refreshed my screen and this huge photo of my husband dropped from the sky.”
“With such an incredible face, he can’t be unknown. Find him for me.”
“Oh my god. Has domestic entertainment restocked? I declare this is my new crush.”
Chen Duo, the fan photographer, slept soundly. But Gu Yanqiu, the subject of the photo, was shaken awake by his company staff.
His manager, Chen Abiao, stared intently and asked, “Do you know who took this?”
Gu Yanqiu took one look and was stunned. It was the same face he saw every day in the mirror, yet in the lens, it seemed to glow, radiating star quality.
It was clear the photographer had poured love into this shot.
Of course, he knew it was taken by the fan photographer named Duoduo.
Now fully awake, Gu Yanqiu looked at his manager with some wariness. “Why are you asking?” he said, adopting a protective stance.
The manager looked at him as if he were a fool and said one sentence: “You’re about to blow up.”
Then the manager’s phone rang. The entire company staff drove back to the office building at 3 a.m. “Okay, okay, I’ll bring Gu Yanqiu to the conference room right away to discuss the next packaging plan.”
The internet truly is all-powerful. In less than an hour, Gu Yanqiu’s complete information had been exposed. Some public accounts even started working in the middle of the night.
Night owls scanning through Gu Yanqiu’s profile felt somewhat bewildered.
“So it’s him.”
This was the same obscure star who had recently been bombarded with demands to “get out of the entertainment industry.” Who would have thought he’d be this good-looking?
Many fans drawn to his appearance found themselves conflicted: “He must have had his reasons…”
“Hey now, where’s your sense of justice?” Other bystanders couldn’t stand this attitude.
Even his social media accounts were dug up, including his Xiaohongshu alt account which showed nothing but dance practice routines. The intensity of his training regimen made even non-professionals gasp in astonishment.
Even Korean entertainment fans were shocked: “You always complain that domestic entertainment lacks good idols. Well, here’s one – yet you still treat him poorly.”
The meeting dragged on until 6:30 AM. Many people in the conference room were surviving on black coffee alone.
The marketing department presented the overnight search data: “One hundred million views!”
“Can we get in touch with that fan photographer? Her single photo accomplished what would normally take us a full year’s work.”
Hearing this, Gu Yanqiu felt an inexplicable sense of pride.