Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

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Chapter 20

What does it feel like to be an assistant to a popular star?

Before taking the job, Li Tong had countless fantasies of a glamorous and extravagant lifestyle. After becoming an assistant, there was only one feeling left—completely drained every day.

Take today, for instance. Lu Yiyao’s schedule was Beijing to Hangzhou (for a fan meeting), then back to Beijing (for a director’s dinner), and finally off to Shanghai.

He was busy with tasks throughout, and even when not busy, he had to be on standby, never able to relax.

After enduring the dinner, they rushed to the airport. Lu Yiyao was tired and slightly drunk, while Li Tong, though sober, felt as if his feet were floating from exhaustion.

Lu Yiyao originally had several assistants, but he personally requested the company reduce the size of his entourage, as he didn’t want such a big fuss made over him. Eventually, Li Tong was the only one left.

Recently, Li Tong often found himself missing his former colleagues.

“Lu Ge, stop looking at your phone and get some sleep.”

In the spacious nanny van, Yao Hong and the makeup artist were already catching up on some sleep upfront, leaving Lu Yiyao in the back, still flipping through his phone.

If he didn’t sleep, Li Tong couldn’t either, feeling the need to be ready at a moment’s notice. Even dozing felt insecure, like being sick.

“Yeah, I’m going to sleep…” Lu Yiyao hummed weakly, but his hands were still busy scrolling through his phone.

This was the third “I’m going to sleep” Li Tong had heard on the trip, and he knew better than to believe it.

What magic did the phone possess that made Lu Yiyao cling to it with the last bit of his energy, despite his exhaustion?

Li Tong could only relate when he was engrossed in a mobile game.

But Lu Yiyao wasn’t gaming; he was browsing Weibo.

Of course, Li Tong respected a Weibo addict, but Lu Yiyao wasn’t one. He had been with Lu Yiyao long enough to know that the star wasn’t even a phone addict; he spent more time holding a book than his phone in a day.

Or do people do unusual things when they’re drunk?

“Li Tong…” The reclining figure suddenly sat up, trying to get closer to the assistant. His head was a bit heavy from the alcohol, so his frown deepened. “Have you ever been scolded online?”

Li Tong paused for two seconds, then asked uncertainly, “On Weibo?”

Lu Yiyao nodded, probably intending to, but due to the car’s movement and his drunken haze, it looked more like he was shaking his head.

Li Tong sighed. “Lu Ge, I’m not like you. I only have 56 followers on Weibo.”

“Oh…” Lu Yiyao, half sober and half drunk, took a while to respond before changing his question. “What if you had 5.6 million followers, and every Weibo post had over a thousand replies, but most of them were cursing you? How would you feel?”

Li Tong swallowed hard. “Why… should I be that miserable?”

Lu Yiyao thought for a moment, and his brows furrowed even more. “No reason. You’re already in such misery. It’s a fact.”

Li Tong despaired and reluctantly imagined that dreadful scenario, becoming so engrossed that he suddenly became emotional. “I’d curse back at each one!”

Lu Yiyao: “You can’t curse back.”

Li Tong: “Why not?!”

Lu Yiyao: “Just can’t… Consider it a script setting.”

What kind of grudge against the protagonist would require such a script?

Li Tong, utterly drained, finally surrendered to fate. “Then I’d just feel miserable. What else?”

“But there’s a small part that supports you.” Lu Yiyao looked seriously at him. “I said most of them curse you, but not all.”

Li Tong seriously returned his boss’s gaze. “Ten thousand points of damage and one point of healing still leaves 9,999 points of damage.”

Lu Yiyao disagreed. “The curses are just emotional outbursts, often illogical, but the support is different. Each supportive comment is substantial and weighty.”

Unable to hold back, Li Tong turned fully to face Lu Yiyao, to make his point more convincing. “Brother, the comments are mixed. If I can pick out the fifty praising me, it means I’ve already seen the thousand cursing me. Who’s going to analyze which comment has quality after being drowned in insults? Besides, even if the praises make me look good, they can’t elevate me to the heavens. But one ‘F your mom’ is enough to set me off. Which has more weight?”

Lu Yiyao stopped talking, looking back at his phone, his expression a mix of confusion and maybe drunkenness or the effect of his assistant’s rant.

Li Tong slowly withdrew from that mad scenario and finally returned to his professional mindset as the car bounced.

Seeing Lu Yiyao still troubled, Li Tong really wanted to say, “You never used to be so into Weibo, and it didn’t stop your rise to fame. Why bother yourself with it? Fans can be of any temperament, and the slightest thing can trigger a fight. Don’t take it too seriously.”

But that was something Yao Hong could say, not him.

Then again, would Lu Yiyao, who used “substantial” to describe fan comments, be hurt by Weibo criticism? And recently, no one was badmouthing him…

Thankfully, the star finally fell asleep with his phone.

Li Tong turned back and took a cushion to lean against the car window, his eyelids heavy as if filled with lead. After a few blinks, they closed completely.

‘Don’t drink if you can’t handle it,’ he thought. ‘Every time you get drunk, you start a scholarly debate. Last time, you discussed the truth and falseness of ideals, and now, the lethality of Weibo comments. Please, I’m just an assistant. This kind of tedious topic should come with extra pay!’

As consciousness faded, a slight sense of grievance still lingered in the sleeping assistant’s brows.

Lu Yiyao slept from the car to the airport, then from the airport onto the plane. One good thing about being drunk—it aids sleep. Unaffected by turbulence or pressure changes, he awoke to a bright new day.

They rushed nonstop to the gathering place for the fourth episode’s recording—the Oriental Pearl Tower.

Despite the hectic pace, Lu Yiyao barely made it on time. Any later, and he would have been considered late.

Lu Yiyao particularly despised tardiness, whether it was others or himself.

As soon as the car approached the tower, Lu Yiyao heard waves of screaming. Looking through the window, he saw that the base of the tower was surrounded by an impassable crowd of enthusiastic people.

Many were there to buy tickets to enter the tower but decided to stay and watch the excitement upon seeing a filming in progress.

The driver from the show’s team, who had obviously scouted the location beforehand, drove around the crowd, entering a path cordoned off by security personnel. Soon, they arrived at the base of the tower.

The program team’s equipment was already fully set up and being tested. The director, clad in a cotton coat, was discussing something with the cameraman. Upon seeing Lu Yiyao’s car, he immediately signaled for the dedicated cameraman to approach.

When Lu Yiyao got out of the car, the screams of the surrounding girls seemed to create a wave of heat.

There had been onlookers during the previous three recordings, but whether it was an illusion or the effect of the first episode’s airing, it felt like there were more people this time, and they were more enthusiastic.

As Lu Yiyao got out of the car, the other four male guests, who had been waiting in another vehicle, were also led out by the staff.

Finally, the five companions gathered at the base of the tower.

In late February in Shanghai, the sunshine was like a deceptive facade—bright to look at but offering no warmth. Perhaps due to the climate, the breeze carried a hint of moisture. Although not strong, it felt bone-chilling once it hit.

For the first time, the program team provided the guests with uniform clothing—a fleece-lined round-neck sweatshirt with the <National First Love Drifting Story> logo on the chest, in a blue and white combination. From a distance, they looked like a group of school uniforms come to life.

Lu Yiyao had already changed into the outfit in the car and had mentally prepared himself for the visual impact. However, seeing the other four companions still made him unable to suppress his smile as he approached the group.

“That’s enough.” Gu Jie felt like he was being laughed at. “You don’t look much better in it.”

Lu Yiyao tried to control his laughter, waving his hand. “It’s not bad. Just a bit… spectacular.”

To be honest, the outfit wasn’t ugly—standard design, okay print, and the colors were fresh and pleasing. It’s just that they had never worn uniforms before, and suddenly doing so made them look like a school reunion rather than a rafting group, which was visually amusing.

As they chatted and laughed, Lu Yiyao glanced at Ran Lin nonchalantly.

Ran Lin didn’t join the discussion very warmly, but his eyes were smiling at the center of the conversation. So when Lu Yiyao glanced over, their eyes met.

Ran Lin was startled, then gave a big smile to his companion as a silent greeting.

Lu Yiyao paused for two seconds before smiling back at him from a distance.

The playful banter among the companions gradually quieted down as the director came over to announce the theme of the day.

Lu Yiyao watched the director’s lips move but was still preoccupied with Ran Lin’s state.

He expected Ran Lin to be at least somewhat downcast, but the smile just now seemed genuinely lighthearted, although polite.

It was a good thing that Ran Lin wasn’t disturbed by those comments on the internet, but Lu Yiyao always feels uneasy. After interacting in the first three episodes, he knew that Ran Lin wasn’t a heartless person. He wasn’t like himself, who was somewhat self-centered and indifferent to external comments. On the contrary, Ran Lin probably cared a lot about the feelings of those around him, tended to empathize involuntarily, and had the unfortunate character of always hoping to make everyone around him comfortable.

Could someone like that forget about such harsh criticism overnight?

Especially since the online comments hadn’t ceased with yesterday’s formation, many were still fiercely debating.

Or did his own Weibo post really encourage Ran Lin that much?

Lu Yiyao pursed his lips, not fully believing this conclusion, but he couldn’t help feeling uplifted by it. He wasn’t sure if he was happy for Ran Lin’s brightness or proud of his own influence.

One thing was certain, though—he had been acting strangely recently.

“…And now let’s welcome today’s mystery guest!”

The director’s sudden enthusiasm finally drew Lu Yiyao’s attention back.

Everyone looked towards the entrance, and he quickly followed suit. A luxurious sponsored car drove up slowly and stopped in front of them. The door opened, and a long leg stepped out of the car.

Before the exaggerated “wow” from the Drifting team ended, a blue and white sweatshirt appeared, turning the “wow” into laughter, changing the atmosphere from excitement to humor.

No matter how handsome, no one can look cool in a cartoonish logo. But the laughter made the guest and the team seem closer. The handsome male guest jogged into the camera’s main area.

Lu Yiyao clapped, surprised—this was the second unexpected thing today.

Not only was it the first time the show had invited a guest, but it was also an old acquaintance—Tang Xiaoyu, the second male lead from “Yun Zhang.”

Tang Xiaoyu didn’t act like a stranger either. He entered the group, greeted everyone, and gave Lu Yiyao a brotherly hug. “Long time no see.”

Lu Yiyao patted his back, welcoming him. “You kept it well hidden. You didn’t even drop a hint.”

Tang Xiaoyu shrugged with a laugh. “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

Everyone then realized these two had been in the same crew for months and had many scenes together, so they must be familiar.

Gu Jie teased, “Hey, don’t go easy just because you know each other. Our show is all about real competition. First Love is a sacred title!”

Tang Xiaoyu reassuringly patted Gu Jie’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. Now that I’m here, I won’t let you be troubled. That title is definitely mine.”

Gu Jie with black lines: “……”

Xia Xinran narrowed his eyes. “Brothers, I want to beat him up.”

Unable to hold back, Ran Lin mischievously joined in the fun. “I’m with you in spirit.”

Zhang Beichen laughed heartily, telling Tang Xiaoyu, “You’ve successfully united us.”

Tang Xiaoyu blinked his eyes, looking at Lu Yiyao for help, appearing as pitiful as possible.

Lu Yiyao sighed faintly. “You reap what you sow. No sympathy.”

It was unclear whether the group’s growing synergy or Tang Xiaoyu acting as a catalyst was the reason, but from the start of the fourth episode, the atmosphere was exceptionally smooth and natural, with plenty of humor and highlights and a good rhythm.

Those involved didn’t feel it strongly, at most finding it more comfortable than before.

However, the director, as an observer, was delighted.

In fact, during the third episode’s deserted island survival and birthday party, the natural rapport among the five had already begun to show, though still imperfect.

Now, the five had completely let go, even eliminating the occasional awkwardness, whether unconscious or overly forceful, so much so that watching their interactions during filming was enough to feel the team spirit.

National First Love Drifting Story finally became the National First Love Drifting Team.

Building a team spirit wasn’t the initial direction of the director and the planning team. They originally wanted to show the real reactions of the stars facing difficulties and tasks unprepared. But the natural development led to the five becoming a team.

The director suspected he played a role in this, believing the notion, “We have a common enemy called the production team,” is an easy unifier.

Whether by chance or inevitability, this development was welcomed by him and the entire production team.

The stars were comfortable, and so were the viewers—a resonance rule applicable to all reality shows.

The first day of filming started at the base of the Oriental Pearl Tower, with real segments in Jing’an Temple business district and Tianzifang.

The tasks were still tricky but enhanced in overall feel and fun. With time, not only the guest team but also the production team improved.

Especially during the Tianzifang treasure hunt, Xia Xinran, who first found a treasure, was ambushed by Lu Yiyao, resulting in an alliance between Xia Xinran and Gu Jie against Lu Yiyao. But Lu Yiyao was no pushover, teaming up with Tang Xiaoyu for a two-on-two battle.

As the tussle intensified, Ran Lin happened by, observing for a while, remaining neutral despite both sides’ persuasion, and casually walked past.

When Ran Lin later uncovered another hidden treasure, the four were still without a result. Frustrated, Ran Lin said, “Why don’t we just settle it with rock-paper-scissors, a highly efficient conflict resolution method invented by our ancestors.”

Both sides, exhausted from their efforts, finally considered and agreed to the proposal. But just as they put down the treasure and were about to start the game, Zhang Beichen, like Gu Jie grabbing the badge in the Battle of Guilin, snatched the opportunity and reaped the benefits with a lightning-fast move.

Zhang Beichen swiftly made his escape, while Ran Lin found himself in a tough spot. Without needing to explain, he clutched his treasure and ran as fast as he could.

Eventually cornered in a dead end, just when everyone thought he had no choice but to tearfully hand over his treasure, Ran Lin miraculously pulled out a “Group Freeze Card”.

The four were caught completely off guard, dumbstruck, and for a moment, they looked as if they were actually frozen.

In the end, the production team’s logo on the Freeze Card forced them to face the reality—Ran Lin had discovered a magical item in some secret location.

As Ran Lin walked away proudly from the four, Bearded Cameraman Sun, who had followed the entire sequence, was out of breath, although it was unclear whether from running or from laughter.

A good variety show is the result of a good director, good planning, good segments, and good guests all coming together.

This battle in Tianzifang was much richer and more interesting than the previous adventure in Guanyan.

For Tang Xiaoyu, participating in the filming for the first time, his experience might be more telling.

His main purpose here was to promote his new drama and, secondly, to gain some fans through the show’s popularity. But having watched the first episode and the subsequent online reviews, he had modest expectations for this promotional event arranged by his agent. His main goal was to make an appearance without attracting negative attention.

However, the experience of filming for one day turned out to be beyond his expectations.

He had participated in reality shows before and knew that relationships among some guests were good both on and off camera, while for others, it was more about performance than genuine feelings. From the first episode, it seemed that this group was at a beginner level in reality shows, unable to act naturally even on camera, let alone off it.

But the filming today was harmonious and well-coordinated throughout, with everyone fully engaged in the competition, teasing each other joyfully, yet strangely enough, there was a sense of camaraderie. Even Lu Yiyao, who usually seemed a bit distant, appeared friendly and likable. He wondered if it was because the editing of the first episode focused too much on the awkward moments or if these people had really bonded so quickly, already showing a team vibe by the fourth episode.

Indeed, he felt that Lu Yiyao was somewhat cold.

He and Lu Yiyao were familiar with each other, but this familiarity was more of an objective kind. Any two people who had lived and worked together on a film set for months, spending most of that time filming opposite each other, would naturally become acquainted, unless they had particularly difficult personalities.

But they weren’t close friends.

Lu Yiyao was easy to get along with, professional, and hardworking, hardly ever losing his temper on set. He treated everyone with respect, regardless of their status, whether they were fellow actors or crew members, winning over many colleagues who were initially indifferent towards him. Producers and directors also liked such actors—easy to work with and reliable. So even before the drama <Yun Zhang> became a hit, Lu Yiyao’s good reputation had already spread within the industry.

But for some reason, Tang Xiaoyu just felt that Lu Yiyao was hard to get close to. Easy to get along with, but hard to fully connect with. Perhaps it was because Lu Yiyao himself wasn’t keen on sharing his own affairs, thoughts, or feelings. So in their interactions, you might lay bare your heart, but he would remain as unmoved as a bell, only smiling at you gently.

Over time, you’d also become reluctant to open up to him, and being warm acquaintances seemed good enough.

That’s why Tang Xiaoyu felt that today’s Lu Yiyao was somewhat different from the one he remembered.

Not always keeping everything to himself, always wearing a smile, but being nice when needed, naughty when appropriate, and confrontational when necessary. He couldn’t be said to be completely spontaneous, but he seemed more like a “friend” now.

“Congratulations to all the First Love male gods! Today’s task segment is over, and next is the much anticipated… luxurious dinner!”

As the director announced, waiters carrying various dishes streamed out, instantly filling the courtyard with enticing aromas.

This was a private restaurant built in the style of a traditional garden, with pavilions, water features, and winding corridors, exuding an ancient charm. The show’s dinner was set under a stage in the back garden.

On the stage was a specially invited Pingtan performance, with soft, gentle, and slow Wu dialect singing and playing, conveying the beauty of old times even to those who couldn’t understand the words.

Below the stage was a large Eight Immortals table* where six people sat around, salivating over the rich local dishes.

*Table designed to seat eight people.

After the Pingtan performance, the artists left the stage, and without waiting for the director’s cue, the six starving people exchanged glances and said, “Let’s eat!”

It was more of a scramble than a meal, especially for the braised pork, of which there were only five pieces. Tang Xiaoyu’s chopsticks were only a second too late, leaving him with nothing but the bottom of the dish.

National First Loves?

More like a group competing for affection!

As the meal was ending, Lu Yiyao got up to go to the bathroom. Normally, the cameramen wouldn’t follow for such things, so when Lu Yiyao, having finished his business, was washing his hands in an antique blue-and-white porcelain basin, he was surprised to see Xia Xinran walk in. It was the first time that day he and a colleague were in a private space without cameras.

Xia Xinran had followed Lu Yiyao’s route, so he wasn’t surprised to see him. He looked around the bathroom and commented to his colleague, “The decor is quite uniform, even the restroom is in Chinese style…”

Everyone’s mics were off at that moment, so Xia Xinran’s joke was more down-to-earth.

Lu Yiyao didn’t play along but changed the subject. “When did you guys arrive yesterday?”

Lu Yiyao asked casually, and Xia Xinran answered naturally, “Zhang Beichen was the earliest, arriving in the afternoon, Gu Jie probably around eight, because when I arrived after nine, he was already there. Ran Lin was the latest. I don’t know exactly when he came. I was already asleep by then.”

“So you only met Ran Lin this morning?”

“Right.”

“Oh…” Lu Yiyao responded, glancing at himself in the mirror, pretending to be casual, then bent down to press more hand soap into his palm, continuing to scrub.

When Xia Xinran came over to wash his hands, he found Lu Yiyao still standing there and asked curiously, “What’s taking you so long? Is there gold in your basin?”

Lu Yiyao’s expression remained unchanged, but his heart skipped a beat. “Waiting for you.”

Xia Xinran said, “I’m not a young lady. I don’t need company to go to the bathroom.”

“Mm.” Lu Yiyao agreed smoothly, then continued the conversation. “How was it this morning when everyone gathered?”

Xia Xinran turned off the tap, drying his hands with a paper towel, and asked in confusion, “What do you mean, how was it? We just sat in the car waiting for you. What, feeling guilty?”

Lu Yiyao said sincerely, “A bit.”

Xia Xinran laughed. “No need. We already got our revenge while waiting for you. Believe me, you don’t want to see that footage.”

Lu Yiyao smiled, imagining the lively scene of everyone uniting against a common enemy. “Did Ran Lin also talk about me?”

As he asked, Lu Yiyao finally turned off the tap and came over to dry his hands, his eyes slightly downcast and his tone and demeanor casual.

But Xia Xinran sensed the truth behind the question.

In fact, had he thought more carefully earlier, he would have realized it sooner. Who would have thought that Lu Yiyao would pick such a peculiar place as a men’s restroom to let down his guard?

“He wouldn’t talk about you. You posted that Weibo yesterday like a timely rain. Now he probably sees you with a halo over your head.”

Sometimes Lu Yiyao found Xia Xinran’s bluntness annoying, but other times he had to admit that his straightforward manner was refreshing.

With the subject out in the open, he asked directly, “How was Ran Lin’s mood this morning?”

Xia Xinran sighed helplessly. “How could I ask with cameras everywhere in the car? Anyway, he seemed normal, not good or bad.”

“Not good or bad, huh… I thought he seemed quite normal during the whole day’s filming.”

“In situations like this, being normal is abnormal.” Xia Xinran analyzed. “It’s his first time facing such widespread criticism. Unless he has a heart of steel, no one would be completely unaffected. But that’s how it is with filming shows; you can’t exactly look miserable on camera.”

Lu Yiyao thought about it and agreed. “Makes sense.”

“I apologize to you,” Xia Xinran suddenly blurted out.

Lu Yiyao looked puzzled. “Hm?”

Xia Xinran threw the paper towel into the bin and walked up to Lu Yiyao, looking him in the eye. “I used to think you were too aloof, but after you offered your villa for the task last time and helped Ran Lin this time, regardless of your motives, it’s commendable. So I take back my previous dislike of you, and from now on…” Xia Xinran raised his hands and fired imaginary “friendship bullets”. “I have high hopes for you!”

“……” Lu Yiyao instinctively stepped back, his palms against the washbasin.

“But your house decoration is too cold; it’s a seaside view, not the Northern Lights. Doesn’t living there long-term get depressing?”

Lu Yiyao didn’t know how to respond. His feelings were teetering on the edge of love and hate. Perhaps this could be described as… the friendship of the entertainment industry?

……

“Next, we’re heading to the hotel where we’ll stay tonight…” the director said, looking at the messy table with his eyes shining. “Do you want to guess where we’ll be staying tonight?”

The six handsome guys looked at each other. Ran Lin was the first to raise his hand timidly. “Disneyland Hotel?”

The director’s smile froze, and he glanced at the planning team!

The planner looked innocent, indicating he hadn’t leaked anything and had signed a confidentiality agreement!

Xia Xinran saw through the ruse and cheered instantly.

The director, though reluctantly, delivered his prepared line. “Yes, it’s Disneyland. Surprised or not, excited or not?”

The six wanted to play along, but under such circumstances, any more forced enthusiasm would be an insult to the audience. So amidst awkward and quiet smiles, Gu Jie raised his hand second. “Director, are there other surprises?”

The director narrowed his eyes, radiating an arrogance of “you’re still too green to play with me”.

The six felt a chill down their spines as the staff brought out a box for drawing lots.

“We are grateful for Disney’s support of our show, but due to the hotel’s limited availability, we can only provide three rooms. However, don’t worry, they are all double-bed deluxe rooms with a view. All you need to do now is let fate decide your roommates in this magical box!”

The six were unimpressed. “It’s just sharing a hotel room…”

Despite the grumbling, Xia Xinran was the first to reach into the box, loving these lottery-like activities.

“Elsa?” Xia Xinran pulled out a round tag with the main character of <Frozen> on it.

Zhang Beichen, the second to draw, was full of anticipation and ended up with Mickey Mouse.

Ran Lin drew third. His face wasn’t overly expressive, but his eyes shone with curiosity and excitement, and he ended up with Winnie the Pooh.

The three men, each with a cartoon character, looked at each other, not seeing any resemblance to roommates.

Tang Xiaoyu, as a guest, calmly waited for the last draw. Gu Jie wasn’t much interested in such childish games, and Lu Yiyao, seeing his remaining companions, stood up fourth.

As he approached the box, Ran Lin, who had just drawn, stepped back to give him space.

Lu Yiyao glanced at him, but Ran Lin was too engrossed in studying his tag to look up.

Shrugging, Lu Yiyao reached into the box.

After fumbling around, the tags all felt similar, and eventually, Lu Yiyao picked the one at the very bottom. Pulling it out, he saw the lively character on the tag seemed ready to leap off the paper—Winnie’s friend, Tigger.

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