The series Rising Tide of the Blue Sea landed on Hulu TV on January 20th. The show boasted a strong cast, excellent production quality, and a dedicated team. A significant amount of money was invested in its promotion, and it secured a prime time slot during the winter holiday season on a satellite TV channel. The initial reception was promising, and the show generated a lot of buzz. However, as the series progressed and reached its tenth episode, both the discussion and the reviews noticeably started to decline.
Issues such as inflated plotlines, drastic deviations from the original work, and awkward acting by the cast became apparent. Without going into details about the two female lead actresses, the acting skills of the little fresh meat were a persistent obstacle. Even the male lead Zhong Guanhua with his million-strong fan base and heavy use of filters that could rival bulletproof glass couldn’t escape the audience’s relentless criticisms.
Xie Guan took a break and hurriedly packed his bags to return to his hometown for the New Year. His family lived in a rural area in S Province. After years of hard work, Xie Guan saved some money to build a two-story house for his family, but only his father lived there now. In the mountain village, sometimes even mobile phone signals are unavailable, and internet access is virtually nonexistent. When Xie Guan returned home, it felt like he was living in seclusion and was completely unaware of the various events occurring online.
It wasn’t until the third day after he returned home that he received an early morning call from Lin Yao: “Xie Guan! Have you checked Weibo? Rising Tide of the Blue Sea broke a 5% viewership rating last night! You’re becoming famous!”
“Hmm?” Having just finished a session of Tai Chi with his father, Xie Guan was still immersed in the serene atmosphere. He calmly said, “Sister Lin, don’t worry. Take your time and tell me, what happened? The signal isn’t great here.”
“Look, I’ve got good news,” Lin Yao deflated slightly by his lack of enthusiasm. She expected him to at least show some courtesy and share her excitement. However, Xie Guan remained unperturbed, making the experienced talent agent seem overly enthusiastic as if she was the newcomer.
“I’m telling you, you’re going to be a star,” Lin Yao huffed, “The viewership ratings for Rising Tide of the Blue Sea soared last night. Your character was introduced online the day before yesterday, and today, you’re the hottest topic on the internet. Haven’t you checked Weibo?”
Having relatively low expectations for the TV series, Xie Guan was naturally happy upon hearing the news. However, for some reason, a heavy feeling seemed to weigh on his heart. He was happy, but that joy was like the taste of alcohol in a trendy cocktail—discernible but not intoxicating.
“I’m in my hometown, and the internet connection is bad. I can’t even load a single Weibo post in an hour,” Xie Guan smiled, “I’ll call Director He to express my gratitude later.”
“Sure,” Lin Yao valued Xie Guan precisely because he was more mature than other artists of his age. He handled things with discretion, was well-versed in social etiquette, and spared his agent from unnecessary worries. “Do you have an official personal Weibo account yet? I’ll arrange to have one created for you and get it verified. You can manage it yourself or let the company handle it.”
“Thank you, Sister Lin. I’ll discuss it with you when I get back,” Xie Guan replied.
“Speaking of which,” Lin Yao inquired, “When do you plan to return? I expect we’ll receive a notice in a couple of days to schedule your commitments, so you might need to return a few days in advance.”
Xie Guan glanced toward his father, “Filming for the series starts on the 15th. I booked a train ticket for the 16th.”
“Taking the high-speed rail?”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
Xie Guan smiled, “Just a regular train.”
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“Do you know that the gossip websites have dug up the fact that you were a stunt double for Chang Jun six years ago?”
Xie Guan fell silent.
Lin Yao reminded him not to let his guard down even in his hometown. Both of their phones were continuously ringing, and after exchanging a few words with the well-wishers, they hung up. Xie Guan went to a local internet café in the afternoon to check Weibo. His alternate account “Crab Can” wasn’t exposed yet. On the trending topics list, Rising Tide of the Blue Sea was third, “Demon Sect Guardian Yue Qingluo” was seventh, and “Xie Guan Yue Qingluo” was eighteenth.
The director initially intended the character of Yue Qingluo to be a charming personality who wins fans, but unexpectedly, the audience was first captivated by his appearance. Yue Qingluo appeared in only four episodes, with a total screen time of no more than 40 minutes, yet countless screenshots and gifs of his scenes flooded the internet. Xie Guan’s entrance scene, bathed in the bloody glow of the setting sun became wildly popular, garnering thousands of reposts.
The most frequently used words in the repost comments were “stunning” and “handsome,” which were relatively normal reactions. However, there were also some comments reflecting personal quirks and unusual remarks, such as:
“Why isn’t this guy the leader of the Demon Sect when he’s so handsome?”
“I suspect I might have watched a fake version of Rising Tide of the Blue Sea.”
“Oh my god, this guardian has a charisma of 2.3 meters!!”
“To be honest, this is the only domestic antagonist I’ve seen in recent years who remains sinister and ruthless without wearing eyeliner and lipstick. With just these four episodes, he easily outshines all the episodes featuring the male lead.”
“Wow, is this character in the original work? I can’t help but want to read the original novel now!”
“Mama, I want to sleep with him!”
“What on earth is this?” When Huo Mingjun saw the last comment, he couldn’t help but speak up: “Fang Hui, what have you been doing during work hours?”
Fang Hui was taking a break during lunchtime, and was startled by the sudden voice behind her. She frantically tried to close the window in the top right corner, but due to her trembling hands, she accidentally maximized the playback window. Episode 17 of Rising Tide of the Blue Sea featuring Yue Qingluo’s cut was now displayed conspicuously under Huo Mingjun’s watchful eyes.
“Don’t bother,” Huo Mingjun said ominously, “Since you like TV dramas so much, why don’t I transfer you to a new company where you can work on them instead?”
Fang Hui shrank like a frightened quail and turned her chair around to face him, her expression desperate: “Boss, I’m sorry…”
Taking a short break during lunchtime wasn’t a big deal, and Huo Mingjun turned a blind eye to it in the past. However, being caught this time stemmed from the content of her slacking off—coincidentally, Rising Tide of the Blue Sea happened to be the Great Demon King’s sensitive spot.
Huo Mingjun’s recent behavior did not go unnoticed by Fang Hui. She subtly inquired about it with Zhong Heguang, who didn’t explicitly say anything but cryptically warned her not to mention “that person’s” name in front of the boss.
With several years of experience as Huo Mingjun’s assistant, Fang Hui was no novice at reading between the lines. She realized that the Demon King was upset with Xie Guan.
She found it somewhat regrettable because she interacted with Xie Guan and thought he was someone worth befriending. However, Huo Mingjun was the one paying their salaries. No matter how much she liked Xie Guan, she didn’t dare oppose Huo Mingjun openly. So, she secretly watched Xie Guan’s TV drama. Unexpectedly, after watching two episodes, she became addicted. She not only waited in front of the TV every day for the show to air but also searched online for Xie Guan’s cut to watch.
Huo Mingjun couldn’t accept the straightforward enthusiasm displayed by countless netizens. It was a strange feeling, similar to discovering a secret scenic spot that suddenly turned into a popular tourist attraction. However, he didn’t actually intend to do anything to Fang Hui. He simply mentioned it nonchalantly before dropping the topic, his attention captured by the video titles on the computer screen: “Cut? What’s this?”
“Huh?” Fang Hui was caught off guard by his question and explained incoherently, “It’s just… taking all the scenes with Xie… this person, cutting them out separately, and… putting them together. It’s sort of like a highlight reel… I think?”
Huo Mingjun said, “Get a USB drive and copy it for me.”
“Okay… Uh?!” Fang Hui was taken aback. She hurriedly downloaded the video she found and copied it onto a USB drive before delivering it to Huo Mingjun’s office. She returned to her desk and closed all the windows on her computer. She no longer dared to fish in muddy waters and diligently focused on her work instead.
An hour later, Huo Mingjun’s internal line phone came to life. “The TV series has aired up to episode 20. Why did the video only include scenes up to episode 18?”
His tone was serious and his attitude cautious, giving Fang Hui the impression that she submitted some highly confidential company information.
Assistant Fang felt like her brain stopped functioning. “Ah? Why…? Because the last two episodes just aired, no one has edited them yet.”
There was a moment of silence from Huo Mingjun’s end. Then, he spoke in the most ordinary and businesslike tone, “Go edit the latest two episodes.”
Fang Hui: “…”
Boss, did you feel a pang of conscience during that second of silence just now?!
When Xie Guan left the internet café, the sky had already darkened. Winter evenings fell early, and he was bundled up in a dark down jacket, wearing a hat, scarf, and a large mask, resembling a heavily armored brown bear. Not to mention this small town, he could walk through the square in City B without being recognized.
His phone had very little battery left after a day of constant notifications. The people he knew already reached out through various channels, and he knew he shouldn’t cling to unrealistic fantasies. Yet, he couldn’t resist checking his unread messages.
This dependency was such a dreadful habit. He only shared a piece of good news with Huo Mingjun once, and it already became a habitual expectation.
He exhaled a puff of breath, tucked his hands into his pockets, and walked towards the town’s makeshift station, which was nothing more than a sign indicating where to board the train. As the New Year approached, the streets grew increasingly deserted. The vast square was almost empty, and Xie Guan stood alone next to the sign, shivering and taking small, hesitant steps. Just then, his phone in his pocket buzzed.
Huo Mingjun sent a text: “Are you available to take a call?”
Xie Guan stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity, his fingers quickly freezing in the cold wind. He hesitated for a long time, still unsure how to respond.
Optimistically speaking, Huo Mingjun’s text message could be seen as considerate. Looking at it less favorably, it seemed cunning.
The person who said, “Let’s not interact anymore” was Xie Guan. That statement was broken on the drunken night when they met, but Xie Guan wasn’t sober, and Huo Mingjun left early. They didn’t meet when they were both clear-headed, and while there was an unspoken understanding between them, it was never explicitly mentioned. So, Huo Mingjun now sent a signal, handing the decision-making power to Xie Guan. If he wanted to keep his promise, he could ignore the message, pretending he didn’t see it. If he was willing to reconsider, this text message conveniently provided a way for Xie Guan to put down all the past grievances.
However, both of them knew deep down that after an entire night of companionship and breakfast the next morning, Xie Guan kept an account of all the favors given and received. He was the kind of person who reciprocated tenfold for every ounce of kindness shown to him. How could he overlook the feelings that Huo Mingjun invested in him?
Huo Mingjun was counting on Xie Guan not being an ungrateful scoundrel to dare to send such a hypocritical message.
Yet, in reality, Huo Mingjun already figured out Xie Guan’s temperament. If he could make Xie Guan let down his guard once, he had the ability to make him lower it a second time.
Communication is the 🗝️. When the first time was a miss ended with a heartache maybe the 2nd time would be a 🎯.
Thank you for the update!
💖💖💖💖
Time to properly communicate with each other as their own person and not as looking at someone else’s shadow <3