Demon Consort Runs into the Beijing Crown Prince - Chapter 41

According to the competition format, the Team Battle was a best-of-three series. The losing team would have to eliminate three contestants. The contestants from the winning team would vote collectively—each of the sixteen members could cast eight votes—and the three with the fewest votes would enter the Elimination Round.

To prevent everyone from colluding to eliminate the strongest contestants, the production crew also introduced a PK challenge. The three contestants with the fewest votes could each nominate a member from their own team for a one-on-one battle. The winner would stay, and the loser would be eliminated.

In the first public performance, Chu Muyun’s team emerged victorious, allowing them to sit back and enjoy the drama unfolding within the opposing team.

The competition format was cleverly designed to test human nature. Contestants might be selling “friendship” and “team spirit” in training footage one day, only to be locked in life-or-death PK battles the next.

By the time Chu Muyun finished filming, removed his makeup, and returned to the villa, it was already late.

With his back to the camera, he secretly messaged Lu Hanzhang: [Are you asleep? Little bunny pointing at you.jpg]

Lu Hanzhang replied instantly: [Not yet.]

Chu Muyun immediately ran to the second-floor bathroom, peeked inside to make sure no one was there, slipped in, locked the door, and initiated a video call.

“Still coughing? Is your cold gone?” he asked as soon as the call connected.

“Almost completely gone. No more coughing,” Lu Hanzhang answered.

“Mhm, mhm.” Chu Muyun scrutinized Lu Hanzhang, relieved to see he looked well. “Boss~ did you watch my performance today?”

“I did,” Lu Hanzhang replied, deliberately avoiding mentioning the hundred Carnival gifts he had sent. “What was that last line you said?”

“It was for you, Boss! ‘Boss, did you like it?'” The Little Demon Consort grinned. “So, did you like my dance?”

In truth, Chu Muyun had instinctively blurted out “Great King” instead of the planned line—a spontaneous expression born from the moment on stage. Explaining the concept of a “Great King” to Lu Hanzhang would be too complicated, so he had substituted “Boss” instead.

“Is that so?” Lu Hanzhang mentally replayed the scene, noticing the lip movements were similar but not quite identical. Unable to confirm his suspicion, he fell silent.

“Boss, did you like it~?” Chu Muyun pressed, determined to get an answer from his “Great King.”

“Yes, you danced very well.”

“Hehe~ Actually, I prepared a solo dance just for you! But I probably won’t get a chance to perform it on this show. There won’t be individual solos during the group rounds, and while there are solo performance opportunities after the semifinals, the competition moves too quickly. Each performance is limited to one minute, not enough time to dance the whole thing.” Chu Muyun sounded genuinely disappointed.

“Hmm,” Lu Hanzhang murmured, lost in thought.

In the days that followed, Chu Muyun endured grueling dance rehearsals as the second and third public performances drew near.

Both teams experienced victories and defeats, and many contestants were eliminated. However, as the team’s center and with his undeniable talent, Chu Muyun faced no risk of elimination.

During the third public performance, Tao Ran, the teammate who had once enjoyed a bowl of Chu Muyun’s tomato beef noodles, found himself in third-to-last place in the voting, teetering on the brink of elimination.

Tao Ran chose Chu Muyun as his opponent for the elimination battle.

The audience erupted in shock, and the host exclaimed in disbelief, “Are you certain you want to challenge Chu Muyun? If you lose this battle, you’ll be eliminated from the competition entirely!”

“Absolutely,” Tao Ran replied with a smile. “I know I can’t win against him, but I also know everyone wants to see him dance again. Let’s give him one more chance to shine, as a thank you for that amazing bowl of noodles.”

“So that’s the reason,” the host said, extending the microphone. “Then, on behalf of everyone who’s curious, I have to ask: how were the noodles?”

“Delicious! I’m not kidding, they were truly amazing!” Tao Ran’s sincerity shone through.

Standing nearby, Chu Muyun couldn’t help but smile. Despite the brutal competition format, he could still feel the warmth of others’ kindness.

Tao Ran stepped forward to compete against Chu Muyun.

Tao Ran truly lacked any dance foundation. His debut stage performance had been so stiff that netizens turned it into a meme: “Rare footage of humanity’s early attempts to tame their limbs.”

Reaching the third public performance stage was already a remarkable feat, and he was beginning to lose the will to continue.

For the competition, Tao Ran danced to a love song with a languid, decadent, and seductive melody. Yet his movements were upright and vigorous, like a military exercise routine or a sequence from the Five Animal Frolics.

When he finished, the audience erupted in laughter. The host, smiling, asked, “How do you think you performed? What score would you give yourself?”

“Ten out of ten!” Tao Ran declared.

“Very confident,” the host replied, then turned to Chu Muyun. “We eagerly await your performance.”

Both contestants performed the same song and dance. Chu Muyun’s rendition was flawless. His movements were not only alluring and sensual, but his gaze also radiated a captivating blend of seduction and innocence.

With his chin slightly raised and a casual smile directed at the camera, he lightly kissed his index and middle fingers before flicking them away—a perfect portrayal of a frivolous yet breathtakingly beautiful enchantress capable of stealing souls.

The live stream chat exploded with comments:

[Stop teasing! I can’t take it anymore!]

[Oh my god, I’m clutching my chest and collapsing!]

[Was that flying kiss meant for me?!]

[My heart’s pounding like a trapped deer!]

Lu Hanzhang, who was watching the show, had already muted the chat. He recorded the segment and skillfully saved it to his album, which was growing increasingly extensive.

After the performance, the host asked Chu Muyun, “What score would you give yourself?”

“Probably a perfect ten.”

The host then turned to Tao Ran, “And what score would you give Chu Muyun?”

“A hundred!”

“Ah, so it’s out of a hundred,” the host and audience realized.

In the end, the winner was determined by audience votes. Unsurprisingly, Chu Muyun won by a landslide.

As soon as Chu Muyun disappeared from the screen, Lu Hanzhang closed the live stream and returned to work.

He opened an email containing the marketing department’s revised advertising proposal, which they had rushed to complete after working overtime.

—A complete overhaul of the original plan, as he had requested.

As the CEO of the Lu Clan, Lu Hanzhang typically focused on broad strategies and rarely made specific demands. This time, however, the marketing team had collectively pulled late nights.

But who could complain? The Lu Clan’s compensation packages far exceeded industry standards, leaving subordinates little choice but to endure.

The online buzz surrounding Dance Storm was skyrocketing. Some contestants aimed to solidify their existing fan bases, while others hoped to use the show to revive their careers. Chu Muyun, however, reaped the greatest rewards.

Clips of his performances went viral, catapulting him from obscurity to mainstream fame almost overnight. The public, unfamiliar with him, found him refreshingly new, and his exceptional performances on the show naturally drew massive attention.

Chu Muyun had recently filmed two dramas and made a guest appearance in another, all awaiting release. Apart from his original fans and those who followed him as an actor, most people rarely pay attention to unaired shows. Through this variety program, however, they finally discovered him. His new fans came from diverse backgrounds, spanning every type of fandom.

Idol Fans, “He’s perfect for a boy group! If he ever joins an audition show, I’d vote for him with all my might!”

Appearance Fans, “Sigh… What divine beauty! This man is breathtaking!”

Drama Fans, “Chu Chu, please go back to filming dramas after the show! You’re my dream uke now—we need more danmei adaptations!”

A flood of new fans swarmed the live streams, eager to catch glimpses of his training footage.

After the third public performance, fans noticed with concern that Chu Muyun was no longer visible in the practice room footage. The only glimpses they caught of him were late at night in the villa’s common areas, as he briefly passed in front of the cameras.

Many fans left comments on the production crew’s official Weibo account:

[Is Chu Muyun going to withdraw from the competition? Why isn’t his practice footage being shown?]

The official account replied:

[He has not withdrawn. Contestant Chu Muyun will continue to participate in the competition as scheduled.]

Some fans spotted a clue:

[Haven’t they counted the contestants? Wen Haizhou’s team currently has ten members, but only nine appear in the practice room footage. This means Chu Muyun will be performing a solo dance in the next round! They’re keeping his footage secret to maintain the surprise.]

Fans:

[Ah???]

[No way??]

[Is it really a solo dance??]

[I can’t believe my idol is getting this kind of treatment. Even the popular members from rival teams haven’t had solo performances.]

While fans were reeling from this unexpected windfall, others chimed in with skepticism:

[Are you all getting ahead of yourselves? Why would they give him a solo dance during a group battle?

[He’s decent, but he’s just at the level of an average boy group member. He’s not some otherworldly talent. Have you all started believing your own hype?

Chu Muyun remained oblivious to the online chatter, his days consumed by relentless practice.

He had been genuinely surprised when Mentor Wen Haizhou approached him after the triple-stage performance, tasking him with preparing a solo dance for the next round. The shock deepened when he learned the specific requirements of the routine.

Determined to deliver his best performance, Chu Muyun retreated from the public eye, immersing himself in a camera-free rehearsal studio. He trained harder than anyone else, his dedication so intense that Mentor Wen Haizhou occasionally visited to warn him against overexertion and potential injuries.

Seven days later, the fourth live performance of Dance Storm commenced.

Fans entered the livestream with anticipation, while haters settled in, eager to witness the fans’ inevitable disappointment.

They didn’t have to wait long.

Chu Muyun opened the show with a solo performance, his name listed alone on the program.

As delicate silk-string music filled the air, Chu Muyun ascended onto the slowly rising stage bathed in a single spotlight. He wore a flowing Rouge Red gauze robe, his black hair adorned with a string of blood-red garnet beads.

His dance unfolded to the ancient melody, his movements graceful and ethereal, like a startled swan taking flight. The hem of his robe swirled like a blossoming skirt, carrying echoes of centuries past—from the depths of imperial palaces to the modern stage. He resembled a butterfly fluttering from an ancient painting, or a vibrant pomegranate flower blooming amidst the shadows of history.

“Great King, did you enjoy it?” Chu Muyun asked softly, his breath catching slightly after the dance. His smile was radiant, and his eyes shimmered like water.

The moment his voice faded, a trailer for the Lu Clan’s upcoming flagship phone appeared on the massive electronic screen behind him. The backdrop was a soft, elegant red, matching his gauze robe, with silhouettes of two phones—one red, one black—flanking the text:

“Spring 2024: A Stunning Debut.”

“Peerless Beauty: Rouge Red”

“Midnight Monarch: Midnight Black”

The live stream chat exploded with comments:

[Huh???]

[A phone commercial???]

[Out of nowhere!]

[Completely unexpected!]

It wasn’t until the host appeared, smiling and acknowledging the “Sugar Daddy” who had bought the naming rights halfway through the show, that viewers realized the official live stream title had been quietly changed to “Dance Storm (Huating Phones Exclusive Sponsorship).”

Huating was the Lu Clan’s premium smartphone line, and the models teased in the trailer were scheduled for release in spring 2024.

Chu Muyun stared at the massive promotional image behind him, momentarily stunned.

He had suspected Lu Hanzhang was behind this.

The music, the set design, his red gauze robe, and the dance itself… it was all meant for Lu Hanzhang’s eyes.

So, had the Great King regained his memories?

Across the screen, Lu Hanzhang pressed his fingers to his forehead, his brow furrowed in concentration, his mind racing.

He had seen this before.

He had witnessed this exact scene… but where? When?

As the live stream chat exploded with comments, online discussions reached fever pitch.

This time, Chu Muyun wore a microphone, and everyone heard his final line, “Great King, do you like it?”

[I love it! I love it! I love it! QAQ]

[I love it so much! This Great King will lavishly reward this beauty!!!]

[So, the outfit he wore for the dance is a cosplay of that historically famous Demon Consort, right?]

[Now that you mention it, Chu Muyun’s name is strikingly similar to the Demon Consort’s. They only differ by one character in the middle!]

[Our Chu Chu is truly a treasure! He even knows classical dance!]

[So beautiful, so alluring! I feel like I’ve become a cyber emperor myself!]

[+1! Watching him dance makes me understand how happy ancient emperors must have been!]

Amidst the praise, discordant voices emerged, some sour as lemons:

[So why does he get to perform solo? Just because he knows classical dance?]

Someone replied: [It’s clearly just a promotional collaboration with the brand. Huating’s new phone colors, Rouge Red and Midnight Black, seem to have an ancient Chinese aesthetic.]

A fan chimed in: [That Rouge Red is so gorgeous! I want to buy it!]

[Huating’s too expensive, I can’t afford it, sob.]

[Mark my words, next year’s Huating spring flagship phone ambassador will be Chu Chu!]

[As a Tyrant and Enchantress CP fan, I’m planning to buy both the black and red phones and switch between them. I suspect this will be the most expensive pair of CP merchandise I’ve ever bought…]

The fans’ excitement only fueled the haters’ ire, and Luo Yi’s group chat erupted in collective madness.

[Hilarious! Chu Muyun, an 18th-tier nobody, as Huating’s ambassador?]

[It’s just a dance for a promotional campaign. What are these fans even hoping for?]

[Heh, can’t wait to see their faces when reality hits.]

How could this be? The endorsement her family had coveted for years was going to Chu Muyun?!