Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 7

In addition to featuring five National Boyfriends, <National First Love Drifting Story> had another gimmick: absolutely no script for the stars. Every segment and itinerary were controlled by the production team, and the celebrities were kept in the dark. It was a purely authentic reality show, showcasing celebrities in their natural state.

The official promotional slogan was:

The most unpredictable journey!

The most bizarre challenges!

The most authentic reactions!

The most interesting encounters!

You decide who is the ultimate National Boyfriend!

Any reality show daring to brand themselves as “authentic” these days was truly brave.

Because reality shows did have scripts, and they were always sent to the celebrities. The more earnest and confident production teams only outline the process, segments, and desired end results in the script, such as competition, unity, inspiration, humor, etc., leaving the rest to the celebrities’ improvisation. Other production teams’ scripts might even specify what reactions certain celebrities should have at certain moments, what props they should receive, etc.

With the former type of script, the final outcome retained at least 30% “authenticity”. With the latter, it was essentially just a “show.”

Regardless of the type, these details weren’t usually highlighted. They’d rather have the audience forget the existence of “reality show scripts” and even subtly create an “unscripted, on-the-spot authenticity” in post-production.

However, <National First Love Drifting Story> broke the norm by openly telling the audience they were doing it for real. The same attitude applied to their contracted celebrity guests: if you can’t handle it, don’t come.

Only XX Satellite TV dared to do this. They were always at the forefront of the conversation, making a killing.

Ran Lin truly didn’t receive a script. The production team only informed him about the local weather, around 10°C, and advised him to wear comfortable, warm athletic clothing.

Then, under Wang Xi’s guidance, accompanied by Liu Wanwan, his first-ever personal assistant newly appointed by the company, Ran Lin set off. Liu Wanwan, originally a company administrator, had volunteered for the role after seeing an internal job posting.

Seeing her apple-red cheeks, Ran Lin was worried she might ask for another autograph.

Filming began with him packing at home. It was Ran Lin’s first time being followed so closely by a camera, making him nervous. By the time he realized what he had said, he was already on the plane.

When the production team’s driver picked him up from the airport and brought him to a hotel in Guilin, it was already 8:30 p.m. Gu Jie and Xia Xinran’s flights were even later. Zhang Beichen and Lu Yiyao had already arrived, especially the latter, who had come a day earlier at his own expense for a day of leisure in the city. Of course, that day wasn’t filmed.

The director and production team warmly welcomed Ran Lin, chatting with him and Wang Xi, but their conversation boiled down to one message: Relax and enjoy, haha!

The director was ambitious, but Ran Lin couldn’t relax amidst his laughter.

Wang Xi and Liu Wanwan shared a room, and Ran Lin had his own. The hotel’s air conditioning was warm; he couldn’t even wear his fleece hoodie and had to switch to a T-shirt.

The cameraman didn’t seem to be resting yet, and Ran Lin wondered if he could ask him how long he planned to keep filming. There was a difference between having eaten pork and having seen a pig run*.

*Idiom used to describe people who haven’t personally experienced things but have heard about them, seen them, and have some understanding.

Ran Lin, who had never been under such close surveillance, felt quite pressured.

Considering the cameraman’s hard work, Ran Lin felt he couldn’t just sit around idly. Otherwise, the footage would just be of him staring blankly, which would be difficult to edit later. After some thought, Ran Lin decided to go greet his “partners” ahead of time.

When Zhang Beichen opened the door and saw him, he was quite surprised but quickly welcomed Ran Lin warmly.

For some reason, there was no camera following Zhang Beichen. Ran Lin guessed that Zhang Beichen might have arrived early, and enough footage of him had already been captured.

Being on camera, everyone was somewhat reserved. So, apart from initially discussing the theme song—their only common topic—the conversation was mostly just small talk with occasional awkward pauses. Soon, Ran Lin couldn’t sit still any longer and excused himself.

He originally didn’t want to visit Lu Yiyao. Since it was awkward with Zhang Beichen, it would only be more so with Lu Yiyao.

But before leaving his room, he had already told the following camera that he was going to meet his partners in advance. Having met one and skipping the other would seem odd and could attract criticism.

Reluctantly, he continued to find Lu Yiyao. However, it was his assistant who opened the door.

The assistant didn’t seem too surprised to see Ran Lin, but hesitated upon seeing the camera, then whispered, “Lu Ge is asleep. He was out all day yesterday and is quite tired.”

Ran Lin really wanted to ask why the assistant was still there if Lu Yiyao was asleep, but he held back.

Lu Yiyao’s tactic wasn’t very clever. Or maybe he didn’t intend to hide his “rejection” of Ran Lin.

Although a bit embarrassed, Ran Lin could understand Lu Yiyao’s feelings. He also felt relieved that Lu Yiyao didn’t want to see him. Otherwise, in front of the camera, he couldn’t outright say he was sorry for leeching off Lu Yiyao’s popularity. Meeting would only add to the awkwardness.

The assistant closed the door gently, but it still made a sound. After hesitating, to avoid the atmosphere being too dry, Ran Lin turned to the camera and made a light comment, “Looks like I won’t get to see my idol until tomorrow. What a shame.”

The cameraman finally seemed satisfied. As soon as Ran Lin returned to his room, the cameraman turned off his equipment and stood at the door with a simple smile, saying, “Have a good rest.”

Ran Lin was relieved and quickly grabbed an unopened bottle of water from the table to offer him, saying, “Thanks for your hard work.”

The burly, bearded cameraman suddenly became shy, quickly waving his hand. “No need. I have some in my room.”

Ran Lin didn’t insist and said, “Then you should rest well too, Sun Ge. Tomorrow might be like competing in a decathlon.”

Sun Ge was amused by the comparison. “It won’t be that bad.”

Ran Lin paused, then narrowed his eyes and asked out of the blue, “Sun Ge, do you know the script?”

The cameraman was taken aback, suddenly burping in surprise.

Ran Lin felt a bit guilty but also wanted to laugh, quickly changing the subject. “I was just asking randomly. Even if you did know, I wouldn’t want you to make a mistake. You should go rest.”

The cameraman nearly fled.

Ran Lin regretted it a bit, feeling like he had bullied an honest person.

On one hand, Ran Lin was relieved to end the day’s filming. On the other hand, Lu Yiyao was still mired in gloom over being disturbed.

He had been worried that Ran Lin would come to seek him out after his arrival. And indeed, Ran Lin did come.

But that wasn’t a big deal.

Since the airing of “Yun Zhang”, Lu Yiyao had quickly become a favorite among fans. Many colleagues he knew but had barely interacted with in the past two years started sending congratulatory messages and creating an impression of close friendship in interviews, on Weibo, and at fashion events.

Lu Yiyao usually turned a blind eye to these actions. He wouldn’t go out of his way to embarrass anyone, and even if he encountered them face-to-face and wasn’t happy about it, he would still play along.

But Ran Lin was an exception. The actions of others were predictable, and the results were estimable. At worst, it meant having one more fake friend. Everyone was busy anyway, so there wasn’t much need for interaction.

But Ran Lin was always full of surprises. In Lu Yiyao’s heart, there was an inexplicable fear of the unpredictable future.

His mind and body both resisted being in the same space as Ran Lin. Even if an encounter was inevitable, he wished it could be delayed as long as possible.

“Lu Ge.” The assistant couldn’t stand it any longer. “You’ve been staring at that screenshot for several days. Why bother? I know you’re angry, but the original post has been deleted. Don’t trouble yourself over it.”

Sitting cross-legged on the bed with no sign of sleepiness, Lu Yiyao pondered for a long time before finally putting his phone back on the bedside table and telling his assistant, “You should go back and rest too.”

The assistant was relieved to hear this and quickly left for the standard room arranged by the production team.

As the door closed, Lu Yiyao picked up his phone again, placing it on the bed in front of him. The screen still showed the screenshot saved in the gallery.

It was a Weibo screenshot of a girl named “Curly Curly Eyelashes”.

The post was filled with excited howls of “Ahhhhhhhh”, and one had to strain to make out the words. “I got my idol’s autograph today.”

Then there was a picture of a postcard with the message: [I love Lu Yiyao! – Ran Lin.]

As the assistant said, the original post had been deleted, and there was no need for Lu Yiyao to keep looking at the screenshot. But…

Lu Yiyao placed his hands on his knees, glanced at the screenshot, and took a deep breath as if the phone in front of him wasn’t a device but a martial arts manual.

Tomorrow, he would have to film shoulder-to-shoulder with Ran Lin. He had to be vigilant against any underhanded tactics from him.

So, it wasn’t that he was looking at the screenshot to disgust himself. He was etching those words into his mind—”constant vigilance”.

What was inevitable would come. It was like those two people in a math problem in school, one leaving from point A and the other from point B. Whether they were moving towards each other, away from each other, one fast and one slow, or vice versa, they were destined to meet. Then, you’d be asked how long it would take for them to meet or at which point they would meet.

The hotel lobby was the point where Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao would meet.

At 7 a.m. Beijing time, the five celebrities, who had coincidentally ordered breakfast to their rooms, gathered in the hotel lobby for the first time.

In front of the cameras, they lined up, exchanging polite greetings that seemed warm but were actually distant.

Lu Yiyao stood in the center, with Xia Xinran and Gu Jie on either side of him, while Ran Lin and Zhang Beichen were on the outer ends. The arrangement appeared casual but was actually based on their popularity.

During the handshake, Ran Lin barely touched Lu Yiyao before the latter quickly pulled away.

To the camera, it might have looked like a handshake, though not a warm one, but definitely polite and friendly. However, Ran Lin knew that there wasn’t any actual contact, and Lu Yiyao didn’t even make eye contact with him.

Ran Lin felt disheartened. Lu Yiyao clearly wasn’t indifferent, and it seemed a grudge had been formed.

Just as he thought about returning to his original spot, Xia Xinran suddenly pulled him back next to Lu Yiyao, then quickly moved to Ran Lin’s spot, swapping their positions. This left Ran Lin standing next to Lu Yiyao.

“You probably wanted to stand here, right? Haha,” Xia Xinran joked narrowly, with a mischievous look on his face. He wore a long red down jacket, making him look tall and beautiful.

Describing a man as beautiful might seem odd, but it perfectly suited Xia Xinran. His face was one that many girls would envy: fair, delicate, softer than most men but with more vigor than most women—a natural beauty.

Facing Xia Xinran’s prank, Lu Yiyao could only frown, and Ran Lin, seeing the teasing in his eyes, could only feel helpless.

Xia Xinran, not content with just that, leaned over Ran Lin and asked Lu Yiyao, “Did you see that Weibo post? Ran Lin’s confession to you?”

Lu Yiyao internally cursed Xia Xinran a hundred times but maintained a handsome smile on his face, asking naturally, “What Weibo?”

Xia Xinran, thinking Lu Yiyao genuinely didn’t know, blinked and explained clearly, “The one where he signed an autograph for a fan and also wrote ‘I love Lu Yiyao’. It went viral. Haven’t you seen it?”

Lu Yiyao feigned surprise as if hearing it for the first time, looking at Ran Lin. Ran Lin felt sure Lu Yiyao had seen it but was just playing along. “That was really embarrassing. I’ll explain it to you later.”

Lu Yiyao appeared unsatisfied but decided to let it go, saying, “Alright then.”

Ran Lin smiled graciously at his “idol”.

Of course, the promised explanation in the future would never happen. Both of them disliked their own actions.

The “idol” looked at the distant blue sky, thinking, ‘Lu Yiyao, when did you become so hypocritical?‘

The “fan” looked at the ground, thinking, ‘Ran Lin, can’t you ever speak the truth?‘

Xia Xinran’s mischief didn’t create the expected waves and seemed disappointed. Just when he was about to say something else, the usually quiet Gu Jie suddenly said, “Today, we just happen to represent five colors.”

Everyone looked at him, clueless. Gu Jie wasn’t particularly eloquent, but he spoke firmly. “Green, yellow, red, white, black.”

Only then did everyone realize Gu Jie was referring to their outfits. Xia Xinran wore a bright red down jacket, Zhang Beichen a bright yellow short cotton jacket, Lu Yiyao a green windbreaker, Ran Lin a white short down jacket, and Gu Jie a black leather biker jacket.

Five people, five colors. All in casual wear, the hardest to pull off was Lu Yiyao’s, whose bright green color stood out everywhere, impossible to lose in a crowd, and the outdoor windbreaker lacked any shape. Yet, he wore it with style.

It was a natural ease and composure radiating from his bones, more casual than Xia Xinran’s flamboyance, gentler than Gu Jie’s indifference. As if he was truly there for a holiday, even if slightly awkward in front of the camera, he stayed true to himself.

“So, what’s the significance of these five colors?” Xia Xinran understood that Gu Jie was talking about their clothes but still didn’t grasp the meaning.

Gu Jie slightly leaned forward from the group and explained, “In ancient times, these five colors were considered fundamental. Basically, these five colors could be used to create all other colors.”

Xia Xinran tilted his head. “So?”

Gu Jie looked at him quietly, his masculine face exuding peace and serenity.

Xia Xinran waited for two minutes, finally realizing that Gu Jie had finished speaking.

A gust of wind whistled through the revolving doors, chilling the hotel lobby. The atmosphere turned incredibly cold.

Ran Lin wanted to facepalm. Better yet, he wished the cameraman would turn off the equipment and let them all huddle in a corner for a while.

Finally, even the director couldn’t bear to watch any longer. He had originally wanted the female host to wait a bit longer, giving the guests more time to interact, especially Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin, who had such heated topics to discuss. However, the five of them had managed to turn the conversation into a frozen wasteland.

“Hello, National First Loves. I’m Bai Rong, and I’ll be with you every step of your journey! I bet the fangirls in front of their TVs have already blacklisted me, but for the sake of our idols, I’m willing to take the plunge! Without further ado, I’m sure our idols are most curious about what we have planned for today and the challenges awaiting them…”

The lively hostess said this, then suddenly turned to face the camera.

“I declare here that everything that follows is unknown to our National First Loves. Like everyone else, I’m very curious to see their performances… National First Love Drifting Story, go!”

With the hostess’s lead, the atmosphere finally improved a bit. The five men, led by the hostess, exited the hotel and entered the large seven-seater SUV provided by a sponsor, waiting at the door.

One driver, one cameraman, and the temporarily taskless hostess got into the production team’s car, leaving one seat for each of the five men.

“Aren’t they even going to tell us where we’re going?” Xia Xinran, sitting behind the driver and the most indifferent to the camera, was the most talkative.

Lu Yiyao, sitting behind the co-driver’s seat, kept a gap between him and Xia Xinran.

“You’ll know when we get there,” he said, patience being something he never lacked.

“You really are something. Twenty years old with the patience of an eighty-year-old,” Xia Xinran teased and then turned to the three men in the back. “Hey, aren’t you guys curious at all?”

Zhang Beichen smiled good-naturedly. “It’s more interesting not knowing.”

Xia Xinran rolled his eyes, clearly not impressed.

Ran Lin was surprised. With his back to the camera, Xia Xinran didn’t bother to hide his disdainful attitude. He suddenly remembered that Zhang Beichen and Xia Xinran were from the same company, yet since the beginning, they had barely interacted, almost like strangers.

Zhang Beichen, seemingly used to this, naturally ignored the look, his expression unchanged.

Unaware of these undercurrents, Gu Jie only heard Xia Xinran’s question after Zhang Beichen’s response, “Aren’t you curious?”

Gu Jie replied simply, “No.”

Xia Xinran regretted asking him, even more so than asking Zhang Beichen.

“You can’t be the same as those two, right?” The curious Xia Xinran finally turned to the most transparent person.

Ran Lin, not wanting to leave him empty-handed, thoughtfully analyzed and cautiously shared his guess, “We might be going to the pier.”

Xia Xinran wondered why his answer was so specific. “Why?”

Ran Lin hesitated. Just giving an answer was one thing; if his analysis turned out to be wrong, that would be embarrassing.

Growing impatient, Xia Xinran urgently called out, “Linghu?”

This caught Ran Lin off guard. He was unsure if it was intentional or accidental.

It seemed this was unintentional. Xian Xinran’s expression changed when he realized his slip-up, quickly explaining, “I’ve seen videos of your character online recently. Your ancient costume looks really good. It’s memorable!”

Ran Lin was amused and conflicted. He disliked Xia Xinran’s attitude towards Zhang Beichen but found him to be a straightforward person without much guile, unsure what to make of this interesting character.

“Explain why you think we’re going to the pier?” Xia Xinran brought back the main topic after the digression.

Ran Lin thought since he had joined this supposedly most authentic and realistic reality show, he might as well speak his mind. If he was wrong, then so be it. “When you travel to Guilin, how can you not see the landscape? And to see the landscape, how can you not cruise on the Li River?”

Xia Xinran blinked blankly, swallowing his follow-up question.

This was because he knew nothing about Guilin, and if he let his curiosity get the better of him, his next question might embarrassingly reveal his ignorance about what the Li River was. Clearly, his present “colleague” had done his homework. Although Xia Xinran wasn’t the brightest, he knew better than to keep asking and risk exposing his lack of knowledge or making a fool of himself. So he chose to pretend to understand and keep his lack of knowledge to himself.

Ran Lin realized from Xia Xinran’s expression that he didn’t understand, but kindly didn’t point it out.

Lu Yiyao, who had been sitting upright, looking straight ahead, suddenly turned back. Ran Lin was caught off guard and met his gaze directly.

It was their second eye contact since the airport incident, and this time, Lu Yiyao initiated it.

With his handsome eyebrows slightly raised and a look in his peach blossom eyes that was anything but friendly, as if he disliked Ran Lin showing off his intelligence, he said, “Don’t be so certain. What if you’re wrong and get embarrassed?”

Ran Lin looked back at him intently, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Then I’ll just act cute.”

A moment of silence followed, with only their gazes locked in wordless conversation.

Finally, Lu Yiyao calmly withdrew his gaze, sitting upright again, chin up, looking forward. He resolved to delete that retweeted post about the airport misunderstanding when he got back!

How hard is it to maintain a good public image?

Lu Yiyao thought it depended on one’s definition of “hard”.

For him, it was like enduring a bleeding heart while still having to smile and act cute. In the end, this even became a dark joke used against him by others. Yet, he still had to maintain a composed and strong facade. This was already pushing the limits of how harshly he could treat himself.

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