Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

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Chapter 31

The fear of both gaining and losing comes from the desire to obtain something. You fear not getting it, and once you get it, you fear losing it. But if the premise of “wanting to have” disappears, so does this feeling.

More than a week had passed since returning from Iceland, and the Chen Sheng Wu Guang group chat was becoming increasingly quiet. Everyone was busily diving into new work; even Ran Lin, who usually had the least scheduled appearances, received an advertisement script for a shampoo brand and started focusing on it. By the time he snapped back to reality and thought of Lu Yiyao, he felt an unfamiliar sense of calm.

Perhaps Lu Yiyao played a role in this—since the reality show ended, he hadn’t initiated any private chats, and even in the group chats, he rarely appeared, seemingly back in his workaholic mode. Once, when Lu Yiyao did appear briefly, Ran Lin wanted to remind him not to overwork and faint, which was scary enough. But before he could finish typing, Lu Yiyao disappeared again. Ran Lin hesitated, then deleted the message he had typed.

Lu Yiyao had his agent, family, friends, and assistants; it wasn’t Ran Lin’s place to worry.

<National First Love Drifting Story> had been reversing its misfortune since the fourth episode, with ratings and reputation rising. Although it didn’t explode in popularity as Lu Yiyao had predicted, by the time the seventh episode aired, it was among the top-rated and most talked-about variety shows.

Han Ze had hit the jackpot with perfect timing. His “Black Hole” trait led the seventh episode to the highest single-episode ratings since the show’s launch, particularly after he hilariously sabotaged his teammates in two consecutive games.

Han Ze’s “sabotage” wasn’t stupidity or ineptitude, but a natural, endearing clumsiness. On camera, he looked like he was trying hard to accomplish the tasks, but inevitably, something would go wrong. The audience laughed but didn’t dislike him; instead, they found him adorable.

Even Lu Yiyao’s fans showed the utmost goodwill towards this stand-in guest. Faced with comments like “Han Ze should be a permanent guest,” they remained incredibly restrained, avoiding any major fan wars. Perhaps it was because their energy was focused on worrying about Lu Yiyao—on the night the seventh episode aired, Lu Yiyao’s team released a photo of him weakly hooked up to an IV in the hospital, successfully drawing attention to his absence.

Ran Lin wasn’t too clear about all these details; he hadn’t been checking Weibo much in the past week, busy preparing for the commercial shoot. The brand wanted to capitalize on the reality show’s popularity.

Since selecting Ran Lin as the endorser, the campaign had been in simultaneous planning. They managed to start shooting on April 1^st, just before the last episode of the reality show aired.

“Good thing I got the script and shooting schedule in advance. If they told me today, I definitely wouldn’t believe it.” On the way to the studio, Ran Lin joked with Wang Xi in the car.

Wang Xi looked at him without amusement. “Still thinking about April Fool’s Day? Your work really isn’t demanding enough.”

Ran Lin took a sip of warm soy milk from the cup holder in the door, put down the cup, and sighed almost inaudibly.

Wang Xi frowned and suddenly ruffled his hair with no tenderness in her actions. After messing it up, she looked at her handiwork, satisfied, reveling in the witch-like pleasure of teasing her much younger nephew.

Ran Lin was embarrassed, turning to look out the window. The car’s reflection showed a bird’s nest hairstyle.

“Xi Jie, do you think my hair isn’t messy enough?”

Seeing the lively look in his eyes, Wang Xi was quite pleased. Shrugging indifferently, her makeup-perfect face showed a faint smile. “Doesn’t matter. You’ll have to wash and style it anyway.”

When they arrived at the studio, the brand’s marketing director hadn’t yet arrived. Not all brands send their director to oversee an advertisement shoot; sometimes they send a manager. But this being the first ad collaboration with Ran Lin, it was clear the brand took it seriously.

Since it was a shampoo advertisement, the focus was, of course, on the hair, so as soon as Ran Lin entered the makeup room, his head was no longer his own. Halfway through the styling, the director arrived and headed straight to the makeup room.

The stylist didn’t stop working, so Ran Lin didn’t dare move, only watching through the mirror as Wang Xi greeted the director.

“It’s a surprise to see you here, Mr. He,” Wang Xi said politely to the client.

The marketing director was a man in his forties. He wasn’t tall, had a round face, and dressed in a well-tailored suit and a stylish yet tasteful shirt. He looked younger than his age, with a friendly smile that made his otherwise non-threatening features more approachable. But a closer look at his eyes revealed shrewdness and sharpness, regardless of his facial expression.

As soon as he entered, Ran Lin locked eyes with him in the mirror and caught a fleeting frown.

“No need for formalities. We are all here to work,” he said, shaking hands with Wang Xi, speaking softly but directly, his attention on Ran Lin the whole time. “How’s the progress?”

Without being named, the stylist knew the question was for him and hurriedly answered, “Another twenty minutes.”

Ran Lin doubted this because the stylist had already spent forty minutes on his hair and had only curled half of it.

Ran Lin had thick, medium-textured hair. During the reality show, he kept it about an inch long, styling it with mousse for a sleek look but not too harsh. Left natural, it gave him a fresh, sunny appearance that wasn’t too effeminate. But today, the stylist hadn’t chosen either style, opting instead for a curling iron.

The stylist didn’t use any chemical treatments, just a one-time styling. He wasn’t actually curling the hair but creating some texture and layers with a curling iron. Ran Lin rarely tried such styles, which made him look less like a student and more like a trendy hip-hop artist.

“No need for twenty minutes.” Mr. He walked behind Ran Lin, looking at him and the stylist in the mirror, his smile fading. “Wash all this off now. Forget all your creativity and just blow-dry it. The messier and frizzier, the better, OK?”

The stylist, a slender man in his late twenties with an enchanting figure and a soft, melodious voice, had almost been categorized by Ran Lin as gentle. But upon hearing that everything had to be redone, his face darkened, his chest heaving with anger before he managed to grit out, “O, K.”

His deep, masculine voice was so unexpected that Ran Lin thought he had been dubbed.

Mr. He, seemingly used to being resented, stood by with his arms crossed, calm and composed.

The frustrated stylist put down the curling iron and lightly patted Ran Lin’s shoulder.

Ran Lin got the hint and immediately went to wash his hair again, letting the texture and curls disappear with the water.

The client is king, so Wang Xi couldn’t object. She simply sat in a corner, becoming practically invisible.

After washing his hair again, Ran Lin returned to his student days. The stylist blow-dried his hair halfway, styled his bangs, and reapplied a light makeup. Once the makeup was nearly complete, the hair was let down and blow-dried again, this time according to Mr. He’s instructions: the highest setting, as messy and frizzy as possible. Ran Lin, with his eyes closed, felt like his head was in the hands of a tumble dryer.

When Mr. He finally nodded in satisfaction, exactly twenty minutes had passed.

The hairstyle had gone through several changes, and so did the shooting process.

The ad script was simple: college nerd Ran Lin confesses to a girl he likes, gets instantly rejected, then resolves to transform himself—of course, the focus is on washing his hair. In the end, with persistent determination and a completely new hairstyle—mainly the hairstyle—he wins the girl’s heart.

The shooting environment wasn’t challenging either: a studio and a bathroom, both easy to manage.

The female actress, a model, was very beautiful but lacked acting skills. Despite most shots focusing on Ran Lin, every two minutes the director would shout—

“Cut! Campus beauty, you’re rejecting him, not scared of him. Don’t keep dodging your eyes!”

“Cut! Campus beauty, why are you blushing if you don’t like him?”

“Cut! Campus beauty, you’re blocking the shot with your positioning!”

“Cut!”

“Cut!”

“Cut!”

Countless NGs left the director exhausted. Mr. He, sitting beside him and staring at the monitor, looked like a storm cloud.

Ran Lin was tired too, but seeing the female model close to tears, he couldn’t help but feel sympathy. She probably wouldn’t want to hear the words “campus beauty” for a few years.

After much difficulty, the first half of the shoot was completed, and the model could rest. She darted into the makeup room and stayed there for a long time.

Ran Lin continued with the determined transformation part—washing his hair. All close-ups focused on his foam-covered head, and in the final scene, he closed his eyes under the shower, immersed in the joy of rebirth.

“Cut!” As the director called out, he looked eagerly at Mr. He.

For Ran Lin and Wang Xi, the brand was the financier, and for the director, it was the same.

Mr. He looked serious, pondering so long that the director almost called for another take before he finally nodded slightly.

The director exhaled in relief and lifted his head from the monitor. “Good! Prepare for the next scene.”

Ran Lin, with his hair redone, looked completely different from before. His hair was smooth and natural, light as air, and his makeup had been transformed from deliberately ugly to bright and clear. His skin glowed under the intense lighting.

“You’re wasting your talent in a shampoo ad; you should be doing skin care commercials,” the stylist commented, his initial anger dissipated in the slow shooting process. He had probably forgotten about Mr. He by now and chatted affectionately with Ran Lin.

Ran Lin felt the stylist’s flirtatious eyes seemed to have seen through his “fellow-minded person”, but as the other party didn’t mention it, he played along. “I’ll definitely keep up the skincare routine when I go back.”

“Ah, your hair is so good too.” The stylist didn’t hide his envy, looking at Ran Lin in the mirror with a wistful pout. “Not like me. I lose a handful every time I wash my hair.”

Ran Lin, seeing his buzz cut in the mirror, was amused by the comment. “How do you lose a handful with that length?”

“I’m talking about before.” The stylist sighed with a nostalgic look in his eyes. “I used to have really long hair. It looked amazing, but it fell out so badly I had to cut it.”

Ran Lin almost believed him and sincerely consoled, “They say that after cutting your hair very short, the new growth will be healthier than before, so don’t worry.”

The stylist’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”

Ran Lin nodded, then added, “But you shouldn’t eat too much oily food. Something lighter and healthier is better for your scalp.”

The stylist declared resolutely, “I’ll start eating vegetarian tomorrow!”

Ran Lin laughed. “Good luck.”

The stylist quieted down and looked at Ran Lin in the mirror for a while before saying, “You’re really nice, good-natured, and kind-hearted.”

Ran Lin felt a bit embarrassed by the high praise, unsure how he’d earned it, and quickly retorted, “Eating vegetarian might not stop hair loss…”

“That’s not what I meant!” The stylist glared at him irritably, looked around to make sure there were no eavesdroppers, or if there were, they couldn’t hear, then lowered his voice and said, “That Fatty He is notoriously demanding. I’ve worked with his company many times and have rarely seen a celebrity who can meet his bizarre demands without getting upset. You hear the director calling so many cuts, most of them are for him. Last month, he even made Xue… a female celebrity so angry that she walked off the set.”

The stylist seemed to think better of saying the full name and swallowed the rest of it. But in such a small circle, just a surname is enough to make a pretty accurate guess.

“What happened then? Did they continue shooting?”

“Of course, Fatty He personally coaxed the person back.”

In fact, Director He wasn’t fat. It was just his round face put him at a disadvantage. However, Ran Lin was more surprised to learn, “He’s from the brand side, and he personally went to coax someone?”

The stylist’s expression became ambiguous, and his voice grew lower. “The relationship between that female celebrity and the brand’s CEO is extraordinary. It was a directive from the higher-ups. Otherwise, who do you think dares to just strike like that? Most bear it with gritted teeth and a grimace, but still push through.”

Ran Lin had an epiphany.

The stylist patted him on the shoulder and stepped back. “Alright, handsome. It’s your turn to go on stage!”

When Ran Lin reappeared in front of the camera, he was brimming with youth and warm eyes. Holding a guitar, he stood under a garden villa-like backdrop, pouring his heart out to a girl on the balcony.

The wind machine continuously blew gentle breezes, making his hair look suave and flowing.

This segment was to be dubbed and have music added in post-production, so in principle, Ran Lin only needed to strum randomly and howl a few lines.

Holding the guitar, Ran Lin plucked a string and suddenly felt a long-lost nostalgia.

As the crew clapped the slate, the shooting began.

Ran Lin raised his head, looking at the face of his beloved girl, and as he gently strummed his fingers, gentle guitar notes spilled out, forming a heartwarming melody…

The shooting site fell silent, and all the crew members, who were waiting to be tormented by terrible music or at least a cacophony, didn’t expect Ran Lin could actually play the guitar!

As the intro music gradually faded, Ran Lin, smiling softly at the female model, began to sing with half-hummed, half-sung lyrics—

“Recently you’ve become so cold~~ leaving me somewhat at a loss~~ I never expected much~~ but wish you could love me like before~~”

“I’m eating fried chicken in People’s Square~~ wondering where you are at this moment~~ Though you might be deceiving~~ my fatigue makes me too lazy to suspect…”

Ran Lin’s singing voice was slightly huskier than his speaking voice, adding a lazy, enticing quality to the playful melody.

The entire set seemed to freeze, with only him singing and playing.

“Cut—”

Ran Lin was singing passionately, swaying lightly with the rhythm and feeling quite handsome, when his confidence was abruptly shattered.

Before he could react, the director was already on the verge of a breakdown. “Beauty, at least react!!!”

The model, mesmerized by the song, came back to her senses, her embarrassment from being yelled at all day finally erupting. “How can I react if he doesn’t finish singing!”

No one dared to offend the client, but there was always room for contention between others.

The director took a deep breath, looking at the time, which was obviously later than planned, and muttered to himself about not fighting with women, aiming to finish early and wrap up. He then spoke gently to the female model. “You don’t have to wait for him to finish. Just react and show emotion during the song… okay?”

His last words were gentle and prolonged, paired with a strained smile from the director.

The female model pursed her lips in grievance but eventually nodded in agreement, giving face.

Ran Lin, having been tormented all day and now feeling the weight of the wooden guitar, gathered his energy for the final scene.

The wind machine continued to blow, the lights kept shining, and Ran Lin, with a loving gaze towards the female model above, strummed and sang again.

This time, the female model reacted splendidly, showing surprise, shyness, and various emotions, even including a scene where she runs downstairs to face the suitor, all passed in one take.

With Ran Lin raising the shampoo bottle towards the camera and reciting the ad, the tumultuous day of shooting finally came to an end.

Ran Lin went to the dressing room to change clothes. Wang Xi, who had been like air all day, was about to follow, but then saw Director He approaching her corner.

Wang Xi immediately changed direction and greeted him enthusiastically. “Director He, were you satisfied with our performance today?”

Director He nodded, seriously commenting, “Good temperament.”

Wang Xi, half-joking, replied, “You always care about things others don’t.”

If Ran Lin had come over at that moment, he would have realized the relationship between Wang Xi and Director He was closer than he imagined.

But work is work, and personal relationships are separate. Initially, Wang Xi didn’t try to curry favor, and the other party was strictly professional. Now that the shoot was over, they could catch up.

“You always have a way with people, and your eye for talent is accurate,” Director He said, looking at the closed makeup room door. “I think he’ll become famous.”

Wang Xi saw through the old friend’s flattery. “Of course, if he becomes famous, you’ll make a fortune.”

Director He raised an eyebrow. “Why do I feel like you’re implying our offer wasn’t generous?”

Wang Xi shook her head. “Not implying, stating it plainly.”

Director He couldn’t maintain his aloofness, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “You’re just the contractor. If you were the client, you could swallow people whole.”

“Alright, I need to check how our kid fared after your torment. We’ll talk on the phone later,” Wang Xi said, then hurried into the makeup room.

Director He watched her leave, shaking his head helplessly.

The two had known each other for many years, meeting when he was just a publicist and Wang Xi a mere assistant to an agent. Now, in a blink, they were both forty. They had no unspeakable relationship, but they did share a friendship. The choice of the spokesperson for this ad had several options, but the final decision on Ran Lin was influenced not only by Wang Xi’s efforts but also by Director He’s input.

Capability, financial resources, relationships, and favors—in this industry, anything that can be of use is considered a resource.

“Xi Jie, how do you think I did today?” On the way back, Ran Lin, not hearing Wang Xi speak for a long time, had to ask.

Wang Xi turned to look at the expectation in his eyes, smiling lightly. “Why, starting to fish for compliments?”

Ran Lin looked pleadingly at his manager. “Xi Jie, I got cut by the director countless times today. Can’t you give me some comfort and encouragement.”

“It wasn’t you being cut.” Wang Xi finally praised, “You did well today.”

Ran Lin smiled sheepishly.

“But,” Wang Xi glanced at him lightly, “if I find out you’re hiding any more talents from me…”

Ran Lin swallowed hard, looking pitiful. “Xi Jie, leaving words half unsaid and letting people guess is really terrifying…”

Wang Xi was amused, wanting to ruffle his hair, but restrained herself.

Ran Lin was still in his rising phase; being too lenient with him now would make it difficult to control him in the future.

Wang Xi didn’t like the feeling of not being in control. One uncontrollable element was already enough for her to handle.

Ding—

A WeChat notification sound.

Ran Lin took out his phone to look, and the next second, he couldn’t help but laugh and look towards Liu Wanwan, who was sitting in the front row, turning back with a beaming smile.

The young girl had sent Ran Lin a candid photo of himself. At that time, Ran Lin had just finished his makeup and had his hair smoothly styled. Lost in thought about the script or something else, his gaze seemed a bit distant, making him look exceptionally soft and adorable.

“Not bad, right?” Liu Wanwan imitated Ran Lin’s earlier expression of seeking praise and also spoke to take credit.

Ran Lin was much more generous with his praise than Wang Xi. “Yes, professional level.”

His compliment was partly genuine, not entirely flattery. Liu Wanwan had chosen a particularly good angle for the photo. It wasn’t taken directly in front of Ran Lin but slightly to the side, capturing his most photogenic angle. Moreover, the lights of the makeup table created a halo effect in the photo, making the entire picture seem more mysterious and blending seamlessly with Ran Lin’s expression.

“It looks good.” Wang Xi leaned over to take a look and said directly, “Post it on Weibo.”

Ran Lin understood what she meant. After all, posting selfies had been a major part of his work during his long career as an unknown artist.

He uploaded the picture, didn’t say much, just added an emoji, and clicked send.

The Weibo post was instantly liked. The first to arrive were his female fans, commenting uniformly with “Ran Lin is the handsomest”. Then, a variety of comments followed. There were ones adoring him, calling him “husband”, complaining about heavy beauty filters, and all sorts.

Now, Ran Lin just found Weibo lively and didn’t take it as seriously as he did at the beginning. After scrolling for a while, he exited the app.

At 8 p.m., Beijing was still congested with traffic, and getting home seemed far away.

Ran Lin squinted for a while, unable to sleep, and then, on a whim, took out his phone and opened WeChat to post the same photo on his Moments.

There weren’t many people in Ran Lin’s Moments who could truly be called friends. He posted there mostly to reassure his mother, letting her know what her son was doing every day.

As soon as the photo was posted, he received a new message.

Ran Lin curiously clicked on it, wondering when his mother became so quick. To his surprise, it was Xia Xinran.

And just as he clicked on it, Xia Xinran, who had just liked the post, quickly left a comment: [This makeup looks good! Who is the stylist?]

Luckily, he had asked the makeup artist what his name was earlier.

Ran Lin replied to the comment: [Leo.]

Xia Xinran replied again: [💦]

Ran Lin narrowed his eyes, intuitively feeling that Xia Xinran knew this Leo and that there might be some untold story.

He imagined some unkind scenarios, but Xia Xinran didn’t reply anymore, obviously not wanting to talk about the makeup artist. Ran Lin smiled and didn’t ask further.

……

In Beijing’s Dongcheng District, in front of a certain detached villa, a matte silver sedan reflected a charming light under the moonlight.

It was Lu Yiyao’s beloved car, rarely driven by himself, but today he had the chance, although he couldn’t lift his spirits.

The dinner with his father was, as expected, hard to digest.

But still necessary.

Just like his father knew that lecturing him was useless, but still did it every time they met.

The result was him excusing himself for a schedule tomorrow, hastily leaving the table. His father knew it was an excuse but didn’t expose it, because his workaholic father probably had a busier schedule than his.

Tragic movies don’t become less sad because you know the spoilers in advance.

Similarly, knowing in advance that a dinner would end unhappily, it still ended in “unhappiness”.

He had been sitting in the car, letting the wind blow for ten minutes.

The early April night wind was still piercingly cold, gradually dispelling the suffocation in his heart.

Just as he was about to close the window and start the car, his phone rang. Lu Yiyao saw it was his sister and had an idea what it was about.

“Brother—” Lu Yimeng’s sweet, lingering voice usually only existed in the moment when the call was first connected.

Lu Yiyao’s expression softened unconsciously. “Yeah, just finished eating. About to head home.”

Lu Yimeng sounded surprised. “Just finished? I thought you were already home.”

Lu Yiyao shrugged helplessly. “Dad was on form today, making many tangential points, so it took longer than usual.”

“It’s your temper that’s improved.” Lu Yimeng could guess the situation. “If you had talked back, he would have let you leave right away.”

“I’d rather not. Auntie Zhou would have to clean up for half a day.” Lu Yiyao sighed lightly, rubbing his temples. “Anything else? If not, I’m hanging up. I need to drive.”

“Brother, you don’t love me—”

“I love you to the ends of the earth, but it’s better not to talk on the phone while driving. You too, always remember to drive safely.”

“Can’t you separate your confession to me from the traffic police’s advice!”

Lu Yiyao laughed out loud, fully imagining Lu Yimeng’s angry, hands-on-hips expression, like an infuriated Queen of Hearts.

“Alright, I forgive you.” Lu Yimeng got back to the point. “Don’t forget to come back tomorrow.”

Lu Yiyao sighed. “I dare not forget. I have a way or two to deal with Dad, but against you and Mom, I can only surrender.”

“That’s good to know. Alright, drive now. Love you.” Lu Yimeng was finally satisfied, sending a virtual kiss.

Lu Yiyao subconsciously touched his face, feeling as if the saliva from his sister’s childhood kisses still lingered there.

He was two years older than his sister. Since he could remember, their parents were always busy, and they were mainly raised by the family nanny, Auntie Zhou. Lu Yimeng used to follow him around, or more accurately, cling to him, kissing him eight times a day, leaving him with a psychological shadow for a long time, always feeling his face was wet.

But then their parents divorced, and at twelve, he was sent directly to a boarding school in England, losing the opportunity for his sister’s kisses.

Suddenly, a gust of wind blew.

The cold air stream rushed in through the window, catching Lu Yiyao off guard.

After several sneezes, Lu Yiyao hurriedly closed the window and drove back to his apartment.

When he got home, it was already past nine in the evening. The lights in the living room were off, and Li Tong was sitting on the sofa, deeply engrossed in a movie, not even noticing his entrance.

Lu Yiyao had to reach out to turn on the light, and instantly, the living room lit up brightly.

Li Tong was startled, turned around to see him, and immediately stood up. “Lu Ge, you’re back.”

Seeing Li Tong coming to greet him, Lu Yiyao quickly said, “Don’t worry about me. Keep watching your movie.”

Li Tong verbally agreed but still took his keys and bag, placing them where they belonged. He then turned around and brought over a cup of water. However, he didn’t hand it to Lu Yiyao but placed it on the table instead.

Lu Yiyao was puzzled.

Li Tong explained, “Hong Jie said that when it’s cold, you shouldn’t drink water immediately after coming in from outside. The stomach is filled with cold air, and it needs to be warmed up gradually.”

For the first time, Lu Yiyao realized Li Tong had a magical similarity with Yao Hong in terms of attentiveness.

“Why don’t you watch movies in the home theater?” Lu Yiyao asked, seeing the paused TV in the living room and thinking Li Tong was still too reserved, so he straightforwardly said, “From now on, if you want to watch something, just go to the home theater. The experience is better there.”

Li Tong glanced up at the ceiling, projecting images of “home theater horror scenes” from his memory onto the white space, as if they were flashing by on a screen. Eventually, he looked at Lu Yiyao and firmly shook his head. “No need. The living room is fine.”

Lu Yiyao nodded, assuming it was just a personal preference, and didn’t insist.

After a quick shower and changing into home clothes, Lu Yiyao entered the home theater. This time, he didn’t watch a movie but played a vinyl record.

With the lights dimmed, blues music poured out from the record player, immersing the entire home theater in a nostalgic and romantic atmosphere.

Lu Yiyao lay on the sofa, gazing at his own movie stills, slowly zoning out. His head, which had been aching all evening, finally relaxed…

Ding!

The urgent sound of a WeChat notification, amidst the tranquil blues notes, seemed very out of place.

Lu Yiyao frowned, picked up the phone from the small table beside the sofa, wondering who was ruining the mood. But when he checked, it turned out to be Huo Yuntao.

“What’s up?”

Considering the time difference, it should be just past noon in the UK.

Lu Yiyao couldn’t think of any reason why his friend, who was notoriously fond of napping at noon, would choose this time to disturb him.

“Zoning out.”

Lu Yiyao told the truth.

“Back home?”

Huo Yuntao knew about his family situation and that every time he saw his father, he needed to zone out to stabilize his emotions.

“Yeah. Stop beating around the bush. What’s up?”

With his old friend, Lu Yiyao didn’t bother with niceties or elegance. They had seen each other at their worst, and any pretense would be ridiculed.

There was silence on the other end for a while before a voice message came through. “I’m coming back to China.”

Lu Yiyao sat up suddenly, his voice involuntarily rising, mixed with surprise and joy. “When are you coming back?”

Huo Yuntao: “Next May!”

Lu Yiyao: “…It’s not even this May yet!!!”

Having one true friend in life is enough.

Any more, and you might really be driven to madness.

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

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Chapter 30

“The trip to Thailand for all you First Love male gods is about to conclude on the beautiful beaches of Pattaya. Who will be today’s Curry First Love? Some of you might still be struggling with this decision. Don’t worry. The production team has prepared a lavish dinner for you. While enjoying Thai delicacies, our male gods can ponder over whom to cast that sacred vote for. Now, let the feast begin!”

Five guests were seated in a row, each with a small dining table in front of them. At the director’s signal, a long dining cart was rolled in, bearing four dishes covered with half-spherical, shiny stainless steel covers. The true appearance of the food was hidden, but the production team thoughtfully placed name tags beside each dish—

Tom Yum Soup.

Thai Curry Shrimp.

Coconut Chicken Soup.

Basil Chicken.

Five people, four dishes—the palpable malice was unmistakable.

But having been hungry all day, they started salivating at the mere mention of the dishes.

The director, off-camera, chuckled benevolently. “No need for me to introduce further. Everyone has seen the names of the dishes. So, as usual, one person will team up with our new member, Han Ze, and the remaining three will each be in their own group. After forming groups, you can choose your desired dish… But this time, we won’t draw lots for groups. Instead, our new member will choose his own partner!”

As soon as the director finished speaking, four pairs of eyes nervously fixed on Han Ze.

Han Ze was on the verge of tears. “You don’t have to be so obviously repulsed…”

More than obvious, Gu Jie had already raised an empty plate from his small dining table as a shield, as if to ward off the black hole vibes from Han Ze.

Han Ze, calm and composed, glanced left and right at his companions’ faces, each looking like death.

With a smile, Han Ze finally chose the only one who didn’t avoid his gaze. “Ran Lin.”

Their eyes met, and Ran Lin knew he couldn’t escape. Besides, after three days, he was the only one who hadn’t been paired with Han Ze, so it seemed fair for Han Ze to choose him.

The remaining three breathed sighs of relief, as if they had narrowly escaped death.

Based on previous results, Zhang Beichen got first pick, followed by Gu Jie and Ran Lin. Xia Xinran, who had been paired with Han Ze the most over the three days, came in last and had to accept whatever dish was left.

All four dishes sounded tempting, but after seven episodes, they knew there had to be a catch.

After pondering, Zhang Beichen cautiously made his choice. “Coconut Chicken Soup.”

Gu Jie didn’t understand his logic. “Can you get full on soup?”

Zhang Beichen shook his head slowly as if to say, “You don’t understand”. “Just something to fill the stomach. Dishes that sound light like this actually offer a sense of security.”

Gu Jie: “……” That made so much sense that he couldn’t argue!

The cover was removed, revealing the coconut chicken soup. The large, transparent glass container, wide at the top and deep at the bottom, was filled to the brim with fragrant, milky white broth brimming with chicken.

“Is this coconut soup or coconut chicken?”

The others, enviously watching Zhang Beichen happily receive the soup bowl, felt a mix of envy and resentment.

It was Gu Jie’s turn.

After much thought, Tom Yum Soup was too famous and risky, and Thai Curry Shrimp was too tempting and alarming. So, he went for the seemingly humble Basil Chicken.

“That’s my pick—Basil Chicken!”

The cover was lifted to reveal a decently presented dish of Basil Chicken with white rice.

Simple in appearance yet tantalizing in aroma.

As soon as the dish was served, Gu Jie devoured it like a storm, as if his insides were singing with joy.

Now it was Ran Lin and Han Ze’s turn.

Ran Lin eyed the remaining two dishes, swallowing hard, and sought his teammate’s opinion. “Which one do you want to eat?”

Han Ze rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then decisively said, “Tom Yum Soup.”

Ran Lin, looking into his colleague’s deep eyes, negotiated softly. “How about we choose Thai Curry Shrimp?”

Han Ze’s hand slipped, nearly banging his chin on the table, then sat back up resignedly, nodding deeply. “Okay, I understand.”

Ran Lin announced loudly, “Thai Curry Shrimp!”

The stainless steel cover was lifted, revealing a large, pristine white circular porcelain plate containing… a single shrimp.

Zhang Beichen spat out a mouthful of soup.

Gu Jie nearly choked on his rice with laughter.

Xia Xinran, not to be outdone, laughed uproariously, pounding the table, his laughter echoing across half the beach.

Meanwhile, Xia Xinran’s Tom Yum Soup was unveiled—just as grand as Zhang Beichen’s coconut chicken soup and generously filled with shrimp, clams, and mushrooms.

Ran Lin slumped onto the table in despair.

Han Ze patted his shoulder consolingly. “Actually, think about it, you should be happy.”

Ran Lin looked up wearily at his teammate. “Where’s the happiness?”

Han Ze smiled: “I’m not a regular guest.”

Ran Lin: “……”

Not just Ran Lin, all the companions were suddenly enveloped in a sense of unexpected joy, tears welling up in their eyes.

Lu Yiyao, we miss you—

At the same time, Lu Yiyao, who was studying the performances of actors from past classic costume dramas in his apartment’s media room, shuddered, instinctively looking around, feeling as if someone was calling him.

But in the dark media room, except for the wooden frames on the wall reflecting faint light in the screen’s glow, there was nothing else.

Lu Yiyao pondered for a moment, paused the TV drama, and got up to turn on the light.

The room lit up, revealing its layout clearly.

It was a guest room converted into a media room. It wasn’t very large, with a 98-inch LCD TV almost covering one wall. On the remaining walls, one had a wooden-colored film rack and a vinyl record player, and the other two were adorned with framed photos—of Lu Yiyao in various roles: ancient, modern, contemporary, a refined swordsman, a noble young man from the Republic of China, a youthful and sunny boy, some aloof and cool, others gentle and kind. Different roles, different styles, but all had one thing in common—they were incredibly handsome.

Lu Yiyao was very pleased with the decor of the room and decided to keep updating the drama photos regularly.

The room was soundproofed, and the surround sound system installed ensured an immersive experience without disturbing the neighbors.

The room had no tables or chairs, just a double-seater English sofa in the center, with a small side table next to it for water cups or mobile phones.

The item Lu Yiyao went to grab when he turned on the light was his phone.

[The filming must have ended by now. I guess you all voted for Han Ze. 😂]

The last time he chatted with his friends was the day before yesterday, and considering today was the third day of filming, they should have wrapped up by now.

Lu Yiyao wasn’t sure if he was just bored or actually missing his friends, to the point where he had an auditory hallucination of being called, and couldn’t settle down, starting to wonder, ‘How did their filming go?’ He decided to grab his phone and ask.

After a while, the response came—

[Of course, it’s what the people want. 😏]

The reply was from Ran Lin, which made Lu Yiyao a bit happy but also surprised. Normally, the first to respond was usually Xia… Wait a minute.

Lu Yiyao’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, and he looked closely. His message wasn’t sent in the Chen Sheng Wu Guang group but in a private chat with Ran Lin.

The two chats were right next to each other, and he hadn’t realized which one he had entered. No wonder it took so long to get a reply—Ran Lin usually replied slower and having Xia Xinran’s chatter as a comparison made it more noticeable.

Since he got a reply, it wouldn’t be right to say he meant to send it to the group. Besides, Lu Yiyao also liked chatting with Ran Lin, so he decided to go with the flow and continued the conversation.

As night deepened, the VIP lounge at Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi Airport, initially bustling, gradually became quiet.

Zhang Beichen and Xia Xinran, each with their agents, were sitting on sofas by the windows, but the sofas were far apart, almost from one end of the lounge to the other. Zhang Beichen was staring out the window at a landing airplane, lost in thought, while Xia Xinran was sprawled asleep, occasionally grabbing at something, as if still fighting in his dreams.

Gu Jie, who had filmed alone this time without his manager, had a few drinks at the bar and was now dozing off there.

Ran Lin, Han Ze, and Wang Xi sat together in another corner.

Wang Xi was curled up on a single-seater sofa, listening to soft music with earplugs, already asleep. She seemed tanner than when they arrived, especially with the white earphone wire contrasting against her cheeks, making the change in skin tone more apparent. She probably sneaked off to the beach while they were filming.

Next to her, Han Ze leaned back on the sofa, his head slightly tilted back, and his eyes closed.

Ran Lin couldn’t tell if he was dozing or sleeping, and as he was pondering this, Lu Yiyao sent a WeChat message.

After that, he was too engrossed in replying to pay attention to Han Ze, typing away.

The conversation with Lu Yiyao wasn’t long. The latter was just inquiring about the filming and some interesting tidbits. Ran Lin kept his replies short and sweet, and Lu Yiyao listened sporadically.

Seeing the conversation cooling down, Ran Lin took the initiative to say goodnight.

Lu Yiyao, as usual, quickly replied with the same.

Exiting WeChat, Ran Lin suddenly missed hearing Lu Yiyao’s voice.

“Do you have a good relationship with Lu Yiyao?”

The sudden voice startled Ran Lin, and his phone slipped onto his lap.

Han Ze picked up the phone and handed it back to him with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I inadvertently saw your chat.”

Han Ze’s gaze was deep, seemingly encompassing everything, but devoid of the apology he expressed.

Ran Lin forced a smile and took back his phone. “It’s okay.”

Han Ze continued to look at him, seemingly casual, but his gaze was firmly on Ran Lin’s face. Then Ran Lin heard him say softly, “You haven’t answered my question.”

Ran Lin frowned slightly. The Han Ze in front of him, with a faint, gentle smile, inexplicably exerted a kind of pressure. This was a stark contrast to the Han Ze from the past three days of filming, overlapping with the always cold-faced First Brother* in Ran Lin’s memory.

*Refers to the (male) face of the company and who they spend the most resources and money on.

“Hmm?” Han Ze’s smile broadened, and his voice was almost a whisper.

Ran Lin was unnerved by his imagination, comparing it to the hissing of a snake. He broke into a cold sweat at his own thoughts, and Han Ze, who had dropped that unsettling smile, looked at him puzzled.

“Not really close.” Ran Lin shook off his jumbled thoughts and cautiously replied, “Just got along well after filming so many episodes together.”

He hadn’t discussed anything strange with Lu Yiyao, so whatever Han Ze saw was safe. Ran Lin didn’t want to make their work relationship awkward over a seemingly casual question, especially with Wang Xi involved.

“Rare.” Perhaps because Ran Lin’s answer matched what he had seen in the chat, Han Ze didn’t doubt it much. After commenting, he tilted his head to look at Ran Lin, then narrowed his eyes meaningfully and chuckled. “I thought Lu Yiyao would blacklist you after the way Wang Xi promoted you.”

Ran Lin avoided Han Ze’s gaze, instinctively picking up a water bottle in front of him and taking a sip.

Han Ze watched him calmly, silent with a smile.

Ran Lin put down the water bottle, still staring at the label, and said vaguely, “It’s a long story…”

“Then let’s not talk about it. You seem troubled just thinking about it.” Han Ze also opened his water bottle and took a small sip.

Ran Lin felt a bit flustered but was mostly relieved.

His interaction with Han Ze was different from that with Zhang Beichen. Facing an abnormal Zhang Beichen, although nervous, he knew the latter was just flirting, so his tension was about how to minimize the impact of rejection; but facing an abnormal Han Ze, his nervousness stemmed from not knowing Han Ze’s intentions, unsure if it was just casual conversation or something more.

More importantly, Han Ze, at this moment, had an almost undisguisedly condescending attitude towards him.

Ran Lin knew this feeling all too well. As an extra, he had often seen this kind of look from lead actors in the crew towards someone of his minor status. The only difference was that those people didn’t even bother to feign a smile.

“This industry is quite strange,” Han Ze said, crossing his legs and leaning comfortably back into the sofa. “Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, fame doesn’t come. Other times, an accident happens, and you’re suddenly famous.”

“Yeah…” What else could Ran Lin say? He was that “accident”.

“The drama that made me famous was like that. I wasn’t the original lead. Someone else was, but he dropped out, and it fell to me. One show, and I was up there,” Han Ze said, looking at Ran Lin with a barely there smirk. “But you’re luckier than me. Just standing at the airport, and opportunity knocked at your door.”

Ran Lin finally understood the discomfort that had been bothering him.

It was mockery.

And it was condescending mockery.

“Wang Xi said she sees potential in you and that fame is just a matter of time for you.” Han Ze shrugged with a faint smile on his face, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I have mixed feelings about that.”

Apart from mockery, there was hostility.

“If Wang Xi’s optimism could make me famous, I wouldn’t be waiting until now.” Ran Lin wasn’t as optimistic as Wang Xi, nor did he think he was a threat to Han Ze.

“She’s more optimistic than you are. These days, I’ve been rushing around to appointments on my own. Whenever I ask, she’s with you.”

Han Ze said it lightly, but it gave Ran Lin a splitting headache.

“I don’t understand a lot of things. Maybe Wang Xi is afraid I’ll mess up if she’s not with me.”

Han Ze looked at him, amused. “You won’t. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

With that, Han Ze suddenly extended a hand towards Ran Lin in a gesture of friendship. “We’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other in the future. Let’s learn from each other.”

Ran Lin hesitated before shaking his hand.

Han Ze’s fingers were long and pale, like those of a pianist, exceptionally beautiful.

But the palm was cold.

Ran Lin suddenly realized that what was abnormal was the “Game Black Hole” during filming—the new guest who got along well with everyone.

This person in front of him was the real Han Ze, the First Brother of Dream Without Limits.

……

The fifth trip to Dubai for “National First Love Drifting Story” sparked a second wave of high ratings and good reviews.

The increasingly in-tune five guests in Dubai, the city built on a desert, experienced the mysterious charm of a foreign land and the unique blend of ancient and modern. The audience also enjoyed a splendid journey abroad with them.

Ran Lin’s Weibo followers continued to grow rapidly, and the comments increased day by day.

Wang Xi, watching this, was quite satisfied. Although her usual attitude was more suppressive to prevent him from becoming conceited, she occasionally relaxed and envisioned a bright future for him.

Ran Lin didn’t mention what Han Ze said at the airport to Wang Xi. For one, it was difficult to bring up, as they shared a manager, and despite their different statuses, there was inevitable resource sharing and competition. Secondly, he didn’t think Wang Xi needed his hint. If he, as Han Ze said, was clear-headed, then Wang Xi was even more astute, surely aware of Han Ze’s subtle attitude.

Once interests were involved, unless one party withdrew, the conflict couldn’t be resolved.

All he could do was work hard, be kind to others, and true to himself.

The final episode of “National First Love Drifting Story” was set in Iceland. When Ran Lin saw Lu Yiyao at the airport, he wasn’t as excited as he expected, but his expression was more uncontrollable, his lips curving into a smile.

“Safe and sound, and in good shape.” Xia Xinran circled Lu Yiyao, giving his appraisal.

Lu Yiyao didn’t think any of those words were complimentary.

Ran Lin, Zhang Beichen, and Gu Jie stood together, restraining their desire to get closer.

That’s how people are. When you don’t care, it’s natural to get close. When you do care, you’re always afraid of making a mistake.

Lu Yiyao thought Ran Lin would give him a hug, or at least a couple of pats like Xia Xinran, checking in warmly. But Ran Lin just stood two steps away, smiling at him.

Ran Lin’s teeth were neat and white, his smile bright and sunny.

Lu Yiyao decided to walk over to him, for the sake of that smile. But before he could move, Yao Hong called with reminders—Yao Hong didn’t accompany him this time, staying back to handle affairs. By the time Yao Hong finished, it was time to board.

During the flight, Ran Lin and Xia Xinran competed in sleeping, as if vying for the title “Best Sleeper”. Gu Jie and Zhang Beichen excitedly discussed Iceland’s scenery, but Lu Yiyao, listening in, didn’t absorb a word.

Upon landing and stepping out of the airport, they were greeted by a snowy landscape.

Summer is the peak tourist season in Iceland, known for its beautiful and vivid scenery. In contrast, Iceland’s winter is more monochromatic but gives a more authentic feel.

Perhaps because it was the last episode, the production team finally showed some conscience, setting more enjoyable tasks and fewer hardships. Everyone had fun, like it was their last school trip.

But the legendary Northern Lights never appeared.

Until the third afternoon, during their last activity, ice cave exploration.

Ice caves are cavities formed inside glaciers. They grow and disappear as glaciers ebb and flow. Only in winter, when glaciers are stable, can one enter to witness that dreamlike world.

The production team brought in a local guide. The moment they entered the cave, everyone was stunned.

An incredible, massive glacier below, a kingdom of ice blue.

As if that wasn’t enough, when dusk fell and they emerged from the cave, still mesmerized by the enchanting blue, the sky was sprinkled with the Northern Lights.

The camera crew reacted first, setting up their equipment to capture the scene.

The five stood at the cave entrance, gazing in awe.

After a while, the production team prepared a spot for them to sit and enjoy the view.

A camera circled behind them, capturing both the Northern Lights and their silhouettes, like in a drama.

They weren’t sitting in a row, but in a staggered circle. Ran Lin sat towards the back, with Lu Yiyao in front of him at an angle, gazing into the distance. From Ran Lin’s angle, only Lu Yiyao’s profile was visible.

His nose was quite prominent, and from the side, he appeared less gentle and more angular.

Suddenly, Lu Yiyao turned his head.

Ran Lin couldn’t avoid his gaze in time, and their eyes met directly.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Lu Yiyao, thinking he was admiring the Northern Lights, asked with a smile.

Ran Lin didn’t know where he got the courage from, but he nodded vigorously. “Yes, very handsome.”

Lu Yiyao tilted his head to look at him, then turned his gaze back to the distant view.

Ran Lin pulled his scarf up to cover half of his face, trapping the warm breath inside, heating his neck, and warming his heart.

He liked Lu Yiyao.

Yes, he had fallen for him, which explained the push and pull, the anxiety of gain and loss.

Initially, the Northern Lights spread across the sky, but at some point, they split into several bands.

Ran Lin counted the bands one by one, and with each count, he silently wished in his heart, ‘Bent, straight, bent, straight…’

The bands were even in number, ending on straight.

Ran Lin was startled when he realized this.

Not by the result, but by himself.

He had actually fantasized about Lu Yiyao being gay. And then what? Even if he were, what could he do?

In the mainland entertainment industry, there were no openly gay popular stars. Even a hint of a same-sex scandal, if not handled well, could ruin a career.

Moreover, Lu Yiyao had never shown any signs of being gay; all the ambiguity was in his own imagination.

The man saw him as a friend.

Was he fantasizing about him here?

If Lu Yiyao knew, he would probably run a mile in the opposite direction.

The colorful bands of light illuminated the sky and the surrounding ice and snow. Ran Lin reached out and grabbed some snow outside the mat. The snow slowly melted in his palm, first bone-chillingly cold, then gradually numb, leaving only a faint coolness.

[It’s the last episode. I feel a bit reluctant to let go.]—This was a casual message Ran Lin sent to Lu Yiyao on WeChat before gathering in Iceland.

Lu Yiyao had replied—[The show is ending, but our friendship isn’t. When I have time, I’ll definitely find you to hang out.]

That was the first suggestive message between Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao in all their private chats.

And the last one.

The first time seeing such beautiful Northern Lights.

The first time liking such a wonderful person.

The first time giving up on a confession, accepting an unrequited love.

……

In a makeshift hut, there was only Lu Yiyao, the director, and a staff member present, with the camera fixed on a stand, capturing the guests’ most subtle expressions.

Lu Yiyao picked up a piece of paper with questions from the table in front of the director. There were only two questions: 1. Please share your most genuine feelings about this season. 2. Give a one-sentence comment about each companion.

Lu Yiyao sat in the chair, recalling each episode from the initial awkwardness to later harmony, his serious expression slowly turning into a smile.

He said, “The biggest feeling from this whole season is that interpersonal relationships are a fascinating thing. Usually, because of busy work, it’s hard to spend so much time with the same group of people. So often, interactions with people stay at first impressions. But first impressions are rarely accurate. As you get to know people better, you discover they’re not what you thought. Like our Drifting Team, from the initial awkwardness to now being like brothers, it’s a great feeling. I’m also grateful to the production team for letting me meet these companions.”

“One sentence for each person… Xia Xinran is like a little sun, always burning brightly, enjoying himself and warming others; Zhang Beichen, youthful and vibrant, I think he’s the most like a campus first love among us; Gu Jie, a tough guy, it’s a pity this season didn’t have real-life CS or tactical-style games; otherwise, he would have been unbeatable; Ran Lin…”

Lu Yiyao thought hard before looking up at the camera. “He’s someone who makes you feel comfortable being around. His care and consideration for friends are instinctive, a natural reaction without much thought, a rare and precious quality…”

Lu Yiyao praised him for three minutes in front of the camera.

Then he asked the director, “Is that enough?”

The director nodded in satisfaction and signaled the staff member to call in the next guest.

Gu Jie was the second to enter. The director patiently waited for him to read the question paper and reminded, “For the one-sentence comment, one sentence is enough.”

Gu Jie was bewildered.

He was struggling to come up with one sentence, let alone more!

……

When the group arrived at the Capital Airport, fans who had received the news had already crowded the exit. Lu Yiyao and Xia Xinran’s fans were the most numerous, followed by Zhang Beichen, then Gu Jie and Ran Lin. Gu Jie, having become more low-key after gaining fame and shifting towards movies, didn’t cultivate a fan base or chase trends, and Ran Lin simply didn’t have many devoted fans.

The five of them were scattered upon emerging, with Lu Yiyao and Xia Xinran looking like they were in for a long haul. Zhang Beichen wasn’t in a rush either, signing autographs in the crowd, while the security guards protecting him were so anxious they almost wanted to carry him away.

Ran Lin and Gu Jie, shoulder to shoulder, finally made it to the edge of the crowd. Most fans who got their autographs turned back to surround Lu Yiyao and Xia Xinran.

“The advantage of not being too popular is evident now,” Gu Jie said, out of breath but radiating genuine happiness.

Ran Lin glanced at the harried Lu Yiyao in the distance and suddenly felt a sense of déjà vu. “The first time Lu Yiyao mistook me for a fan was here.”

Gu Jie also glanced over and joked, “Back then, you were the only one holding a light board. It’s not his fault for mistaking you. Try it now. He probably can’t even see you in the crowd.”

Ran Lin quietly withdrew his gaze and smiled faintly. “Yeah.”

The two teams walked away, while three remained behind. The distance between them grew, one side increasingly crowded, the other increasingly quiet, like two different worlds.

<National First Love Drifting Story> had wrapped up.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 29

The filming of the behind-the-scenes footage was completed, and each guest returned to their respective rooms. The trio from Dream Without Limits finally had a chance to sit down for an internal meeting.

With the assistants sent away, only Wang Xi, Ran Lin, and Han Ze were left in Wang Xi’s room.

Wang Xi wore a Bohemian-style beach vacation dress today, elegant and romantic, softening her usually sharp and efficient demeanor into that of a pretty, petite woman.

Ran Lin quite liked this version of Wang Xi, approachable and neighborly, almost making one forget her usual oppressive aura.

However, as soon as she spoke, she was back to being the straightforward agent, focusing on the essentials. “The production team wanted to capture your spontaneous reactions, so I had to keep it from you.”

“It’s not that you had to tell everything, but you could’ve given some hints,” Ran Lin said, still shaken. “When I opened the door, I thought I had time-traveled back to Dream Without Limits.”

“The chances of you seeing me as soon as you open the door in Dream Without Limits are also not high, right?” teased Han Ze, lifting his eyebrow playfully.

Ran Lin was surprised, as his impression of Han Ze was always of someone with a cold face, boasting an attitude of “I’m more famous than you.” Even in fleeting encounters at Dream Without Limits, Han Ze never spared him a glance. But now, communicating directly, Han Ze turned out to be unexpectedly natural and humorous.

“I was just joking with you. Don’t be angry,” Han Ze quickly explained, seeing Ran Lin not responding.

Wang Xi gave him a look. “Are you familiar enough with him to joke like that?”

Han Ze obediently raised his hand as if to acknowledge his mistake. “I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful next time.”

Seeing the popular Han Ze so obediently managed by Wang Xi was quite a peculiar sight. The comforting feeling of “So I’m not the only one who’s timid” was incredibly healing.

“I’m not angry.” Ran Lin finally found a chance to speak, not wanting the agent and colleague to misunderstand. “It was just too unexpected, and I need some time to digest it.”

“There was no other way.” Wang Xi shrugged. “It was sudden, and Han Ze was just coming to save the day.”

Ran Lin’s heart skipped a beat, eager to know more but afraid of exposing any flaws to Wang Xi. After a long deliberation, he cautiously repeated her words with a questioning tone. “It was sudden?”

Wang Xi didn’t think much of it and casually explained, “Yes, it seems like it was only two days ago that there was an urgent leave request from the production team. The artist coordination team was in chaos, looking everywhere for someone to fill in. They contacted me yesterday, and Han Ze just happened to have wrapped up his drama shoot, so he flew over immediately. If it had been a day earlier, we wouldn’t have been able to make it.”

Ran Lin’s heart was already anxious when he heard about the emergency leave. He bravely waited until Wang Xi finished speaking, then immediately asked, “Did something happen with Lu Yiyao?”

Wang Xi looked at him strangely. “You’re not really a fan of his, are you? Look how worried you are.”

“We’ve recorded several episodes together.” Ran Lin forced a strained smile.

Wang Xi shrugged, not thinking much of it, treating her artist like a personified angel. “The artist coordination side hasn’t leaked any information, so I’m not clear on the details. But these sudden leaves are mostly due to unexpected events disrupting the schedule. There’s a small chance it’s due to the artist’s own reasons, like throwing a tantrum or acting like a diva.”

“I don’t think Lu Yiyao is the type to lose his temper.” Han Ze interjected casually, guessing, “It must be something urgent.”

Wang Xi raised an eyebrow mockingly. “Are you that familiar with him?”

Han Ze spread his hands in a serious tone. “I don’t have to interact directly. I can observe from the sidelines.”

Wang Xi rolled her eyes angrily.

Han Ze, unfazed, shared a knowing look with Ran Lin, as if saying, “You understand my struggle.”

Ran Lin could clearly feel a more relaxed and comfortable atmosphere between Wang Xi and Han Ze. Wang Xi was still the same, but Han Ze was measured in his approach, knowing when to be humble and when to joke, very accurately gauging the agent’s mood. This was a rapport formed from long-term cooperation, something Ran Lin envied but also knew couldn’t be rushed.

Returning Han Ze’s “I understand you” look of shared empathy, Ran Lin didn’t pry further. The conversation slowly shifted towards the senior Ran Lin sharing his experience on the show with his junior.

Han Ze listened intently, and Ran Lin spoke in detail, pointing out all potential pitfalls to Han Ze, not wanting him to be tormented into questioning his life choices. However, Ran Lin’s mind occasionally drifted, especially when thinking about Lu Yiyao, until Han Ze’s questions or reminders brought him back.

Fortunately, Han Ze and Wang Xi, fully focused on the next day’s recording, noticed nothing.

What exactly happened to Lu Yiyao? This question kept Ran Lin tossing and turning all night, leading to a sleepless night. Chen Sheng and Wu Guang brothers didn’t have such concerns; Xia Xinran directly called out to Lu Yiyao in the group chat, and later Gu Jie also chimed in, but until dawn, there was no response from Lu Yiyao.

The next morning, as the recording began, they finally got a reliable update—

“Lu Yiyao couldn’t join this episode’s recording due to health reasons, but his heart is with the Drifting Team,” the director said, unusually straightforward. “So he especially recorded a video to cheer everyone up…”

As the director stepped back, the big screen on the set showed Lu Yiyao’s face. The mobile-shot footage was a bit shaky, with a white wall in the background, and the person on screen looked a bit haggard, but his peach-blossom eyes still sparkled.

“Hello, my Drifting Team buddies. I’m sorry I can’t fight alongside you this time, but my spirit is with you! So don’t miss me too much. I’ll be back next episode… and welcome Han Ze to the Drifting Team. I’m sure you’ll love this mysterious journey, and I have high hopes for you winning the Curry First Love!”

The video was short, and before Ran Lin could react, it was over. The friends expressed their alternative concern through teasing comments like “Who would miss you” and “Don’t flatter yourself,” while the director announced the next task.

But Ran Lin’s thoughts were still on the video.

Lu Yiyao welcomed Han Ze, and Wang Xi said Han Ze was confirmed to fill in only yesterday, meaning the video was recorded after Han Ze’s confirmation. The director mentioned Lu Yiyao couldn’t come due to health reasons, so if he was able to record such a clip yesterday, did that mean his situation wasn’t too serious?

Ran Lin regretted not messaging Lu Yiyao yesterday. If he had known earlier, he would have sent a video invitation right away, no matter how abrupt.

……

Ever since the fourth episode aired, Lu Yiyao felt he was shrouded in bad luck.

First, his sister called to relay their mother’s imperial command. Then, his father called to issue a direct decree.

While he racked his brains to find two days to visit the two supreme elders in the east and west of the city, the investor of a script he was recently interested in specifically asked to meet him.

Usually, investors only care about returns unless they’re specifically funding a passion project. But occasionally, some dedicated investors like to oversee the main cast for the director, purely out of love for the arts. Not wanting to offend a potential investor, Lu Yiyao had to put his parents’ ultimatum on hold and squeezed the two days’ worth of schedule into one and a half days to meet with the investor.

The investor seemed quite satisfied with him. The dinner lasted from noon until evening, accompanied by the director, producer, and several others whose roles in the project Lu Yiyao couldn’t remember. He only recalled their constant flattery toward the investor.

The investor, immodestly, first critiqued the entire entertainment industry and then elaborated on industry development and major IPs, almost as if he could revolutionize the Chinese entertainment industry’s model right at the dinner table.

The investor’s money made him the boss, an unchanging truth. Compared to him, the director seemed more principled, offering compliments sparingly and insightfully, which pleased the investor and further affirmed his professional skills—although the two weren’t directly related.

Lu Yiyao, sitting next to the director, seized opportunities to discuss the script, sparking the director’s interest. The two hit it off, chatting enjoyably.

The meal lasted from afternoon until late at night. Exhausted, Lu Yiyao staggered into his nanny car and then passed out. Yao Hong, his manager, was nearly frightened to death and immediately directed the driver to the nearest hospital, where his assistant carried him into the emergency room.

The emergency doctor, a calm thirty-something, carefully examined the unconscious Lu Yiyao while asking Yao Hong about the circumstances and any medical history. Recognizing Lu Yiyao and considering the recent schedule reported by Yao Hong, the doctor preliminarily diagnosed overexertion and lack of sleep but insisted on close observation until he woke up.

Thus, Lu Yiyao was hospitalized, unconscious. He woke up the next day, and Yao Hong had already requested leave from the program on his behalf.

Apart from exhaustion and lack of sleep, Lu Yiyao also had a fever. He thought he could recover in two days for the three-day shoot, but Yao Hong sternly refused, leaving no room for discussion. Lu Yiyao didn’t insist, acknowledging he had indeed been overworking.

Lu Yiyao spent three days in the hospital and was discharged on the third night. As Ran Lin guessed, the video was recorded the day before the shoot in the hospital, deliberately in front of a plain white wall to avoid revealing the hospital setting.

During his three-day complete break, Yao Hong forbade him from all forms of entertainment, including his phone. According to her, his sudden phone addiction was one of the reasons for his collapse. Lu Yiyao had no choice but to obey.

He didn’t touch his phone again until the night he was discharged. Yao Hong had rearranged his recent schedule, postponing what could be and spacing out the rest to ensure he had ample rest. She also arranged for Li Tong to stay at his house, on call 24 hours a day, in case of any further health issues.

Li Tong knew many assistants who often complained about their jobs. Celebrities were difficult to serve, had big tempers, and were always busy, so assistants had to be submissive, attentive, and forget about having personal time.

Lu Yiyao was the first celebrity Li Tong worked for, and his experience was different from others. Except for the “busy” part, he hadn’t encountered the rest. If some celebrities treated their assistants like employers to nannies, or worse, like masters to servants, Lu Yiyao’s relationship with him was more like a corporate hierarchy—Lu Yiyao made requests, and Li Tong fulfilled them without any arrogance or subservience.

More importantly, Lu Yiyao cared about his personal space. Not just his assistant, even Yao Hong rarely entered his apartment, often waiting downstairs with the nanny car. Lu Yiyao usually came down quickly.

Other assistants might be used to their celebrities, but Li Tong always maintained a “gossip enthusiasm” towards Lu Yiyao. Hearing that he could “live together” with him, he was so excited that he didn’t even need Yao Hong to mention overtime pay; he happily packed his bags and followed.

Knowing Yao Hong was worried about him, Lu Yiyao hesitated but eventually relented, agreeing to have the assistant closely monitor him to ease his agent’s mind.

Yao Hong had her family, husband, and son to worry about. Balancing family and career wasn’t easy, and Lu Yiyao didn’t want to add to her troubles.

Thus, on the night the first day of filming for “National First Love Drifting Story” ended, Lu Yiyao left the hospital and went home with his assistant.

As the saying goes, misfortune may be a blessing in disguise. His collapse and hospitalization, though unfortunate, loosened his otherwise relentless schedule, meaning he didn’t have to worry about finding time to visit the two supreme elders.

Dealing with his mother and sister was easy; if he really couldn’t visit, a soft apology or a little fib over the phone would suffice, as women tend to be soft-hearted. But defying his father was another matter—no, Lu Yiyao admitted he didn’t dare.

Therefore, he suspected that, besides physical exhaustion and lack of sleep, “psychological pressure” also contributed to his collapse.

“Lu Ge, your house is so big…” Li Tong, lacking grandiose words to express his feelings, simply stated his impression plainly.

Lu Yiyao smiled and gave his assistant a brief tour. “That’s the bathroom, this is the walk-in closet… Here’s the study. Next to it is my bedroom, and your guest room is over there…”

Li Tong followed Lu Yiyao around the apartment, feeling an urge to stay permanently.

“I’m going to take a shower. You can watch TV,” Lu Yiyao said, eager to wash off the hospital smell.

“Okay.” Li Tong nodded obediently. “Be careful, Lu Ge. Call me if you need anything.”

Lu Yiyao, amused but appreciative of his assistant’s sincere concern, replied, “I’ll be careful not to slip or bump into the bathtub.”

Mid-March in Beijing still carried the chill of late winter, but the apartment was comfortably warm and stable, neither too hot nor too cold.

Li Tong flipped through channels, finding nothing of interest, so he settled on watching <National First Love Drifting Story> on the streaming service, starting with the latest episode.

When Lu Yiyao came out of the shower, he saw Ran Lin on TV asking his on-screen self, “So you don’t like the world of Pooh, but this kind of experience?”

TV Lu Yiyao coughed lightly and said, “I like Pooh, and I also like this experience.”

“This kind of ride is common. You can find it in any children’s park. What exactly do you love about it?”

“Stability,” his TV self-replied, sounding full of pretense.

Li Tong, curled up on the sofa, chuckled to himself, unaware that Lu Yiyao was standing right behind him. When Lu Yiyao tried to make a comment, he too got absorbed in the show. He stood there for a long time until Li Tong, shifting his position, caught sight of him and nearly fell off the sofa in shock.

“You scared me to death, Lu Ge!” Li Tong exclaimed, clutching his chest.

“I got too absorbed.” Lu Yiyao apologized, walking around to sit at a distance from Li Tong.

Li Tong asked funnily, “You recorded the program but are still so absorbed in watching the replay?”

Lu Yiyao shook his head, still watching the screen. “It feels different watching it than recording it.”

Li Tong, having never recorded a show, couldn’t comment, but seeing Lu Yiyao enjoying himself, he sparked up his gossiping spirit. “Lu Ge, you seem to get along well with those stars. What are they like?”

Lu Yiyao suddenly asked, “Who’s your favorite among them?”

Li Tong, thinking it was a test from his boss, replied without hesitation, “Definitely you, Lu Ge!”

Lu Yiyao laughed, adding a condition. “Besides me.”

After some thought, Li Tong answered, “Gu Jie.”

Lu Yiyao was surprised. “Why?”

“He’s cool.” Li Tong’s eyes shone. “That physique, that presence—he’s the epitome of a real man!”

Lu Yiyao, inexplicably triggered, asked, “Do you like Iron Man?”

Li Tong, confused by the topic shift, pondered seriously. “I like the Hulk.”

“Lu Ge, you haven’t answered yet. What are they like?” Li Tong brought back his original question.

Lu Yiyao opened WeChat, smiling at the group chat. “They’re all pretty good.”

His vague answer left Li Tong unsatisfied, but he returned to watching TV. Lu Yiyao typed and deleted messages, finally changing “Do you miss me?” to “Good evening, buddies.”

When the group received Lu Yiyao’s message, Xia Xinran was applying a face mask, Gu Jie was lifting dumbbells, Zhang Bei Chen was browsing Weibo, and Ran Lin was reading <Beihai Tree>. Except for Gu Jie, everyone immediately checked the message.

Then, Xia Xinran burst out laughing:

Xia Xin Ran—[Good evening? Are you on an official visit or something?]

Just after he finished complaining, his “pig teammate” undermined him:

Ran Lin—[Good evening. 😊]

Xia Xinran was so speechless that even his face mask wrinkled.

Zhang Beichen—[How’s your health? Are you okay now?]

Alright, they’re all gentlemen, except for him, the mischievous youth.

Xia Xinran sighed, took off his mask, and joined the comfort brigade.

Xia Xinran—[You looked as pale as a ghost in the video. What’s actually going on with you?]

Lu Yiyao—[Lack of sleep.]

Xia Xinran—[……]

Zhang Beichen—[💦]

Ran Lin—[Have you caught up on sleep now?]

Lu Yiyao—[I’m full of energy. 😎]

Lu Yiyao—[How was the first day of filming? Was it fun?]

When Gu Jie got to his phone, this was the first thing he saw, almost bringing him to tears—

Gu Jie—[Can I refuse to answer that question…]

Xia Xinran—[Hahahaha]

Lu Yiyao—[?]

Zhang Beichen—[He got sick from eating too much durian today.]

Lu Yiyao—[A task?]

Gu Jie—[A game, one so insane you’d be thankful you weren’t there…]

Xia Xinran—[Hahahaha]

Gu Jie—[Keep laughing, and I’ll ask the director to swap Han Ze in for you tomorrow!]

Xia Xinran—[I was wrong. 💦]

Lu Yiyao raised an eyebrow. Han Ze had such capability that he could intimidate Xia Xinran, who was normally fearless?

As if he heard his thoughts—

Xia Xinran—[Lu Yiyao, you’re definitely coming back next episode, right? Han Ze is like a black hole in games. He was a special guest today, so we drew lots to decide which regular guest would play with him. Today it was Gu Jie, and we don’t know who it will be tomorrow. Now everyone’s scared to be in the same group as him. It’s every man for himself!]

Lu Yiyao laughed out loud.

But typing it out automatically muted the onomatopoeia—

Lu Yiyao—[Don’t worry. I’ll definitely be back next episode.]

It seemed the new guest’s chemistry wasn’t bad. The variety show didn’t lack all-rounders, but they love to play black holes. The sparkle effect would be crackling when edited later.

After chatting for a while, Lu Yiyao suddenly realized that from beginning to end, Ran Lin had only sent one message, asking if he had caught up on sleep, and then remained silent throughout, not knowing if he was busy with something else or still peeking at the screen.

The chat in the group was heating up, already reminiscing about the day’s thrilling events. Lu Yiyao couldn’t quite explain it, but his thoughts kept drifting, mostly to the silent Ran Lin.

He thought the other party would at least ask a few more questions about his health.

Although this “thought” had no scientific basis.

Finding it too abrupt to interrupt the group chat, Lu Yiyao simply switched out to find Ran Lin’s private chat—[Are you there?]

Ran Lin was certainly there.

From the moment Lu Yiyao sent the first WeChat message, Ran Lin hadn’t changed his posture, holding his phone the entire time.

Lu Yiyao casually attributed his absence to “lack of sleep”, but Ran Lin understood at a glance that it was due to overworking and excessive stress. This was a common situation in the entertainment industry, affecting both male and female artists.

However, from Lu Yiyao’s messages, it seemed he had recovered and wasn’t in any serious trouble.

So, Ran Lin relaxed and watched his friends chat animatedly, his smile turning into a silly grin.

His mood, which had been down all day, brightened with Lu Yiyao’s appearance.

He didn’t need to talk one-on-one with Lu Yiyao; just watching him interact with friends in the group was enough to make him happy.

Ran Lin was used to his mood lifting as easily as it had fallen, unable to control his feelings but trying his best not to reveal them.

Then Lu Yiyao knocked on his virtual door—[Are you there?]

Ran Lin didn’t want to reply, but his fingers betrayed him—[Yeah, here.]

[Why aren’t you talking in the group?]

[Applying a face mask.]

[On your hands too?]

[Yeah, hand mask.]

[……]

[Just finished it 🤭. How’s your rest going?]

[Very leisurely. Almost don’t feel like working again.]

[Your fans would cry.]

[My manager would beat me up first.]

[😆 But seriously, there’s never an end to schedules, but your body is your own.]

[Yeah, I’ve started adjusting.]

[That’s good.]

[Any spoilers for tomorrow’s task?]

[What do you think 💀?]

[Why do I feel like I dodged a bullet by not being there for the filming?]

[You’re overthinking. The director said the most exciting part is saved for the last episode. Can’t let you down.]

[Is that last part from the director or you?]

[[A polite and cute smile.jpg]]

[Can’t you find a corresponding emoticon. Always using text versions…]

[gif animation]

[Sorry, I shouldn’t have made such an unreasonable request.]

Lu Yiyao looked at the gif of a politely smiling, slightly eerie figure sent by Ran Lin, speechless.

While he was speechless, Ran Lin sent another message—[Are you outside?]

Lu Yiyao was startled, quickly replying—[At home. Why do you ask?]

[Oh, nothing, just asking.]

Lu Yiyao frowned slightly, thought for a moment, and then understood—[Because I didn’t send any voice messages today?]

After a while, the other side replied—[Are you a mind-reading detective 💦?]

Lu Yiyao smiled proudly, glanced at his assistant nearby, and then replied to his friend—[My assistant is also at my place, monitoring my health 24/7 for the next few days.]

[Yeah, these days, it’s still important to pay more attention to your health.]

Ran Lin clicked send, then pondered perplexedly—What’s the inevitable connection between having the assistant at home and not sending voice messages? They weren’t discussing anything secretive, were they?

Equally baffled was Li Tong—Lu Yiyao was just chatting with his co-stars in a group chat. He had even heard Xia Xinran’s voice messages through the speaker, so why did he suddenly start glancing at him suspiciously from time to time?

Li Tong had no interest in gossip about friendships between male stars. Was Lu Ge being too cautious?

Finally, after chatting with Ran Lin and catching the tail end of the heated discussion in the group, Lu Yiyao contributed a few words here and there. As it was getting late, everyone gradually dispersed.

Lu Yiyao felt satisfied and began to look forward to the last episode’s filming.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 28

[I really just asked casually at the time. Who knew your fans loved you so deeply…]

Ran Lin sent this irresponsible comment back, almost able to envision Lu Yiyao rolling his eyes.

Lu Yiyao never actually rolls his eyes, perhaps finding the action disrespectful to others. But after spending time with him, you’d realize that his eye-rolling happens internally, and the more polite his smile is, the higher the internal eye-roll meter.

Unexpectedly, Lu Yiyao didn’t retort but quickly replied with a short voice message: “Have you watched the show?”

Ran Lin was taken aback, then realized that Lu Yiyao probably thought he had given up on both the show and Weibo after being criticized in the first episode.

[Yes, I watched it.]

“The last two episodes weren’t bad. Although it’s unlikely to be a huge ratings hit, the reputation should improve as it goes.”

Lu Yiyao’s tone was very objective but Ran Lin could tell he was still trying to comfort him.

He thought Ran Lin was still troubled by the negative reception of the first episode, so sharing screenshots and discussing the show’s turnaround was meant to cheer him up.

Why worry about whether someone else is straight or not?

Just as a friend, this person was already one in a hundred.

Ran Lin suppressed the warmth stirring in his heart and responded seriously: [You said the reputation will start low and go high, so the ratings will definitely rebound too.]

If he cared about the reputation, then Lu Yiyao and his team must be concerned about the ratings, especially since this was Lu Yiyao’s variety show debut. If it didn’t take off, his future in variety shows would be difficult. Nowadays, variety shows are a tool for gaining fans and popularity. Compared to well-reputed works, variety shows are easier and more effective, and almost every popular young actor or actress needs to have at least one hot variety show.

“Ratings have their own patterns, and from what we see now, a big spike seems unlikely.” Lu Yiyao’s voice didn’t carry much regret but more the tone of an objective analyst.

Ran Lin asked with a learning spirit: [How so?]

“This program has aired three episodes, and the ratings have been stable, meaning neither the bad reviews of the first episode nor the good reviews of the third have significantly impacted the ratings. The only explanation is that, from the start, the show’s viewership has been primarily fans. After the first episode’s poor reception, non-fans left, but fans stayed due to their affection for the idols. The second episode’s reputation improved, which should have solidified the fan base and brought back previous viewers, not to mention attracting new ones. But the slight fluctuations in the third episode’s ratings show that non-fans play a negligible role in the audience. So, what really affects this show’s ratings isn’t its quality or reputation, but the stickiness of the fan base.”

[If a future episode performs exceptionally well and has a breakout moment, a surge in ratings isn’t impossible, right?]

“We’ve all only signed for one season of this show, eight episodes in total. Three have aired, five have been filmed, and I haven’t seen anything that could really explode. Even if there is, it’s likely in the last three episodes. But for an eight-episode series, a late surge only benefits a potential second season.”

Lu Yiyao’s reasoning was clear and well-founded, convincing Ran Lin.

But he still felt conflicted. [If it weren’t for your voice message, I would have thought I was talking to my agent. 💦]

After a while, a reply came from WeChat. Lu Yiyao’s voice was now tinged with amusement. “Okay, I admit, compared to artistic pursuits, I am more interested in studying industry patterns. But then again, don’t you think it’s thrilling to cut through the chaos and see the essence of things?”

[Being the only sober person in a crowd of drunks?]

“I like that analogy.”

…Narcissists always do!

Ran Lin admitted that most of the time Lu Yiyao was charming, but sometimes his self-satisfaction really made one want to slap him!

The problem was he was itching to continue the conversation, especially now when the atmosphere was so good that he couldn’t bear to ruin it.

His mind was filled with snarky comments, but what Ran Lin finally typed out was innocent: [If there’s a second season, would you join it?]

Unaware, Lu Yiyao honestly replied, “Probably not. I still find acting more meaningful. So I’m looking at a script right now. If I take this role, my schedule for the next year will be completely full.”

[I just looked at my schedule, and it’s so relaxed it’s like retirement…]

“Just do well in each assignment and project.”

[“‘You will definitely become popular’—isn’t that the normal way to encourage a friend?]

“Okay, you will definitely become popular.”

[Your calm tone makes me feel even more pessimistic about my future…]

Sitting in his study’s reading chair, Lu Yiyao couldn’t help but chuckle at his phone.

His study had a deep English style, decorated mainly in dark colors. Except for the door and windows, the remaining walls were filled with deep brown wooden bookshelves. The curtains were brown too, made of the thickest material for light blocking. The chandelier and carpet were the only decorative items in the room, both retro but not overly complex. The few patterns on the carpet were the only bright colors in the room.

The large, dark gray reading chair in the center was Lu Yiyao’s favorite spot to read when he had free time. Once the door was closed and the curtains drawn, the lighted lamp created an isolated tranquility, allowing one to immerse in the world of books.

However, Lu Yiyao hardly had any holidays this past year, so he could only occasionally enjoy some time here late at night.

Tonight was the same. He had planned to read the script to calm his mind before sleeping after watching the show and browsing Weibo. But just as he sat down, Ran Lin replied to his WeChat, and their conversation put the script reading on hold.

He sent voice messages, and Ran Lin replied with text, so their conversation had a constant time lag.

With nothing else to do while waiting for replies, Lu Yiyao went to check the comments under Ran Lin’s Weibo post again. Compared to after the second episode, Ran Lin’s comment section tonight was much more harmonious. Though the number of “Burning Noodles” was still far less than “non-fans + other fans”, the latter’s comments had shifted from sarcasm to neutral and objective.

In fact, this kind of comment was good—factual, calm, and rational. It wasn’t necessary to be overly passionate or excessively critical.

Lu Yiyao picked a few good comments to screenshot and was relieved to find that he almost didn’t need to blur any of them.

Even the occasional slightly harsh comment wasn’t as extreme as last time and nestled among a bunch of positive or neutral comments, he believed Ran Lin wouldn’t be too fragile.

As they chatted back and forth, by the time Ran Lin sent a “Good night”, Lu Yiyao had already taken eight screenshots.

The number couldn’t compare with the last time, but seeing Ran Lin’s good spirits in Dubai, Lu Yiyao thought there was no need for strong measures anymore. A gentle approach would suffice.

Humming an English song unconsciously, Lu Yiyao selected all the screenshots and sent them.

Ran Lin had just brushed his teeth when he heard his phone ring again. Logically, he knew the other side was probably just saying “Good night”, but he couldn’t help rushing back to the living room, foam still in his mouth, eager to check his phone.

There was a “Good night.”

But before the “Good night,” there were eight screenshots.

Ran Lin stared at the screenshots, only then remembering to tell Lu Yiyao that he had reinstalled Weibo.

To tell or not to tell, that was the question.

Telling him meant no more late-night comment screening and screenshot sending.

Not telling him meant Lu Yiyao might continue sending screenshots until the eighth episode.

Absorbed in thought, Ran Lin accidentally swallowed the toothpaste.

Amidst the tangy taste, he finally made a decision.

[Got the screenshots, but I’ve already reinstalled Weibo 🎆.]

It felt really good to have someone always thinking about you. But knowing that he had already gone through the comments while the other person was still diligently taking screenshots late into the night… he couldn’t feel at ease.

He expected Lu Yiyao to complain about not being informed earlier.

Instead, Lu Yiyao sounded genuinely happy for him. “That’s right. You don’t really need to worry too much about what others think. Knowing what kind of person you are is the most important.”

[Mm.]

Lu Yiyao sighed, realizing Ran Lin really preferred texting to voice messages.

Although talking to himself all night was a bit strange, Lu Yiyao always respected personal habits.

“Good night.” After sending this voice message, Lu Yiyao put down his phone and leaned back in his chair, fully relaxing.

“Good night,” Ran Lin whispered to his phone, but in the end, he still sent a text.

It wasn’t that he liked texting; he just feared his voice would betray his emotions.

Those feelings of excitement, shyness, and anticipation should remain unknown to others.

The discussions stirred by the third episode continued until the broadcast of the fourth episode.

It wasn’t that the third episode was exceptionally brilliant, but it left the audience with many unanswered questions:

First, what brand was Xia Xinran’s sunscreen?

Second, what was Lu Yiyao’s mood when the coconut husk fire was blown away?

Third, was Ran Lin’s apology really just about the fire-making, or was there a deeper meaning?

Fourth, was Lu Yiyao’s private residence an apartment or a villa?

Fifth, did the manly Gu Jie, who had no friends, have a girlfriend?

Ultimately, these questions never received official answers, and the enthusiastic audience and fans, after the fourth episode, completely forgot about them.

If the overall style change in the second episode was a pleasant surprise but still under observation; and the third episode’s more mature and stable guest performance and editing regained viewers’ confidence, making them slightly expectant; then the fourth episode of <National First Love Drifting Story> finally hit its first big moment since its debut.

“Lu Yiyao’s fear of heights” and “We owe Ran Lin an apology” simultaneously climbed onto the trending searches.

“National First Love Drifting Story”, “Disney”, “Lu Yiyao cosplaying Spider-Man”, “Chen Sheng and Wu Guang”, “Xia Xinran on the carousel” became hot topics.

This included some rhythm led by the program group and various celebrity teams.

But at the end of the day, it was the effectiveness of the program itself.

The pleasing amusement park, the youth-filled first love team, from the initial task-focused tension through the mid-episode stumbles and friction to the final understanding and unity, edited and post-produced for a smoother rhythm and richer emotions.

The ultimate collective decision to forgo voting and the director’s announcement of no Fairy Tale First Love but a Fairy Tale First Love Team brought the youthful spirit to its peak.

What viewers want from a program is this kind of psychological fulfillment.

When the process stirs their emotions and the outcome meets or even exceeds their expectations, the viewing pleasure doubles.

Lu Yiyao’s Weibo comments were torn between those scolding him, “If you’re paid, you should endure it. Don’t join if you’re afraid of heights,” and loyal fans arguing, “Standing and talking without back pain, physiological acrophobia can kill.”

Ran Lin’s Weibo, on the other hand, was flooded with Lu Yiyao’s fans, thanking him for understanding Lu Yiyao and apologizing for previous scolding.

Amidst the noise, an ordinary viewer’s post-viewing Weibo, short in words, unexpectedly stood out, receiving tens of thousands of replies and reposts, becoming the most dazzling scene in the hot topics:

Sad Eeyore: [I always called this program “National Male God First Love Story” and I couldn’t change it no matter how many times I tried. Today, watching them ride the carousel on TV, I understood—it was divine revelation.]

……

By the time the fourth episode aired, “National First Love Drifting Story” had already completed the filming of the sixth episode “France Romantic First Love”.

The romantic first love was awarded to Ran Lin, so as he watched Disney on TV, he was still thinking about the Champs-Élysées and the coffee aroma handed to him by Lu Yiyao.

But honestly, coffee was just for smelling; he still preferred soy milk.

That night in the group chat, Xia Xinran was still the most excited about Disney, clearly lingering on the memory. But Gu Jie obviously suffered a lot, so as Xia Xinran reminisced about a scene, he followed suit, recalling the same incident. However, the same event, as told by the two of them, appeared entirely different, like two sides of a coin—one side sunny and bright, the other dark and oppressive.

Ran Lin and Zhang Beichen also found moments to join in their discussions, adding a few comments.

It was a scene of joyful harmony.

This felt just like the atmosphere during the sixth episode’s filming, where both he and Zhang Beichen tacitly avoided mentioning Dubai, and the latter hadn’t caused any more troubling incidents.

Strangely, Lu Yiyao was silent all night.

Ran Lin was a bit tempted to send a private message to ask about the situation, considering that messaging Lu Yiyao had become quite normal for him. However, he also thought that Lu Yiyao might be busy with his tight work schedule, possibly even working overnight. Disturbing him at this time might be annoying.

His indecision led to Lu Yiyao remaining silent, but Zhang Beichen ended up sending a private message—

[There are a lot of people on Weibo saying they owe you an apology 😆]

Ran Lin was a bit surprised but replied jokingly—[I saw and burst into tears.]

[I owe you an apology too.]

Ran Lin didn’t expect him to bring up past issues or to be so direct.

[No need. It’s all in the past.]

[Still friends?]

[Of course.]

[I actually wanted to buy you a gift in Paris but considering the likelihood of not being able to give it, I decided not to waste it.]

[Smart choice. 👍]

[So, really no chance at all?]

[Ironclad straight.]

[That’s what I admire about you…]

Ran Lin smiled at Zhang Beichen’s response, his last bit of unease dissipating.

Everything’s easy once you talk it out.

With open communication, everyone feels comfortable.

In the end, Ran Lin didn’t send a message to Lu Yiyao.

In fact, this choice was correct, because that night Lu Yiyao was already overwhelmed by a barrage of calls from family and friends. Even if he received a message, he probably wouldn’t have the energy to reply.

…..

“You’ll die, you know that!?”

In the quiet VIP lounge of the airport, where even a pin drop could be heard, Lu Yimeng’s high-pitched scream pierced through the receiver, waking Yao Hong, who was dozing off nearby.

Lu Yiyao signaled Yao Hong to continue sleeping and then, covering his phone, moved to a corner to soothe his sister. “I know, I know. I didn’t go up in the end.”

“But you were seriously considering it! Don’t tell me you weren’t; I know what you’re thinking just by the way your eyes shift!”

“…”

“I’m telling you, buying a few bags won’t cut it this time. Mom said you must come over within a month for a face-to-face ideological education!”

Lu Yiyao, harangued by his little sister, felt his head spin. Lu Yimeng was only a fraction as formidable as their mother, the true master of devastating wit. Just thinking about facing both in the next thirty days drained Lu Yiyao of the will to go on.

“Brother,” Lu Yimeng finally softened her tone after venting. “Don’t take such shows next time. No one’s forcing you to be a big shot. Mom and I just want you to be safe.”

Lu Yiyao sighed, looking at the wall art. “If I had known about such tasks, I wouldn’t have taken it.”

“Nice try.” Lu Yimeng snorted, pausing before adding, “I know you’re trying to prove something to Dad, showing him your success. But there’s a limit to everything. Okay, even if you didn’t go on the roller coaster or join any dangerous activities, the fact that you’re too busy to sleep is still true. Do you know you can die from lack of sleep? If anything happens to you, what about me and Mom…”

“Stop.” Fearing being cursed to death by his sister, Lu Yiyao quickly interrupted, “I have my limits. Instead of persuading me, why don’t you persuade Mom to take a day off? She never stops working.”

“No way.” Lu Yimeng’s refusal was decisive. “I’d just hear, ‘If you’re worried about me, come help me in the company.’ I’m not digging that hole for myself.”

“You really should start helping Mom.” On this matter, Lu Yiyao stood with their mother. “After twenty-two years of fun, it’s time to be responsible.”

“Why does it always turn into you lecturing me when I’m scolding you…”

Lu Yiyao smiled tenderly. “I’ve always been the good guy.”

Lu Yimeng “tsked” at her brother’s confidence, or rather, narcissism.

“By the way, I’m not doing this out of spite towards Dad; I genuinely like this line of work.” Lu Yiyao clarified at the end of the conversation.

Lu Yimeng’s reply was brief. “Who believes you.”

Just after hanging up, before Lu Yiyao could return to the sofa, his phone rang again.

Seeing the name on the caller ID, Lu Yiyao’s smile faded, and his expression and voice became serious as he answered, “Dad.”

“You must let me see you within two weeks.” Lu Guoming’s imperative sentence was enough for father and son. There was no need for pleasantries.

Lu Yiyao lowered his eyes, perhaps full of thoughts, but his reply was simple. “Understood.”

Lu Guoming hung up, satisfied, the call lasting less than a minute.

Lu Yiyao raised his eyes, looking at the inconspicuous painting on the wall in the corner, a promotional photo for the airport or this VIP lounge, featuring models depicting a happy family of three smiling at the camera.

His family might have had a similar portrait.

He said “might” because Lu Yiyao had no physical copy. There were only vague memories from his early childhood, hazy and unclear.

Facing a packed month and needing to find two days to face off against his parents, Lu Yiyao felt not just drained of the courage to live but utterly depleted.

……

This week, Ran Lin had double joy.

The first was, of course, the turnaround in reception from the fourth Disney episode. The marketing accounts that had previously joined the bandwagon in criticizing him now flipped sides, praising him. His team also steered some narratives, and he watched his popularity steadily rise. If the online ranking of celebrity attention wasn’t clear enough, being recognized on the street for photos and autographs truly gave him a taste of fame.

Even at the peak of his early “popularity”, the number of times he was recognized on the street was few and far between. And those who did often struggled to call him by the right name, “that school heartthrob” and “Young Master Linghu” being the most common. But now, those who recognized him could accurately call out his name and express their fondness for his performance in the show. Some adorable girls even recounted specific moments from particular episodes that they couldn’t forget.

The second joy was that Wang Xi finally, after careful selection, helped him land his first advertisement in his acting career—a men’s shampoo newly launched by a certain hair care brand.

Although the brand was not the industry leader, it had a stable market share and was well-recognized among the public. The new product was advertised as a pure and non-irritating natural formula, targeting young consumers. Therefore, in choosing a spokesperson, the brand preferred someone youthful and energetic, ideally a male star who hadn’t endorsed similar products before, as this would more easily bind the star’s image with that of the brand.

Youthful and clean image, limited endorsements, high topicality recently, and cost-effectiveness—after searching around, the brand settled on Ran Lin.

The agency was also satisfied with the brand’s reputation and image. So, after several rounds of negotiations, all contract details were finalized, and the contract was successfully signed this week.

On the day the contract was signed, Ran Lin treated the whole team to a big meal.

Wang Xi teased him for spending money before even getting paid, especially since he would only receive thirty percent of the endorsement fee, with the remaining seventy percent going to the company. Ran Lin’s response was to serve Wang Xi as much food as he could, hoping that the lavish meal would temporarily distract her from her worries.

The advertisement hadn’t started shooting yet, so Ran Lin restrained himself and didn’t tell his family. After all, anything could happen before the ad was actually broadcast, and he didn’t want to give his parents false hope.

Keeping secrets was hard, especially when his parents kept calling to check on him.

Fortunately, it wasn’t long before he was immersed in a new round of work—the seventh episode of <National First Love Drifting Story> set in Thailand with the theme of “Curry First Love”, was about to start filming.

As usual, he checked into the hotel arranged by the production team the night before, and the camera crew would shoot some behind-the-scenes footage.

Ran Lin was already familiar with the routine. So, after settling his luggage and tidying up briefly, he went to greet his teammates in their rooms.

For the other four rooms, the following camera crew would give him the numbers directly, but from the second episode onwards, the production team wouldn’t tell him who was staying in each room. So, he didn’t know whom he would meet when he opened the doors.

The first door Ran Lin knocked on was Gu Jie’s. When the door opened, Gu Jie was shirtless, his muscular body glistening with sweat.

Ran Lin was startled, and so was Gu Jie, who quickly turned to put on a T-shirt, explaining, “I thought it was room service.”

Ran Lin didn’t know whether to comment on the awkward timing or Gu Jie’s casualness. Knowing that teammates could knock at any time, what meal was he ordering? No, wait, what did ordering a meal have to do with being shirtless?

“Come in,” Gu Jie said, now dressed, inviting Ran Lin and the camera crew standing at the entrance.

Upon entering, Ran Lin immediately noticed the dumbbells and push-up bars on the floor and understood where the sweat had come from.

“Life is all about exercise,” Gu Jie said enthusiastically, noticing Ran Lin’s gaze on the equipment. “Wanna try? It’s really satisfying.”

Faced with such an enthusiastic invitation, Ran Lin had no choice but to reluctantly join in.

In the past, Ran Lin might not have been able to do many, but his recent visits to the gym weren’t in vain, and he managed several sets of push-ups with ease.

Gu Jie didn’t expect Ran Lin, who appeared “frail” by his standards, to be quite skilled, not only able to do the exercises but also with proper form and no shortcuts.

Excited, Gu Jie picked up the dumbbells and started lifting them energetically.

Since Ran Lin and the camera crew didn’t close the door when they entered, Xia Xinran pushed it open and walked in, finding himself in the midst of a bustling fitness scene.

“Is there a task already, and it’s not even tomorrow?” Xia Xinran asked, bewildered, wondering if he, lacking upper body strength and agility, could get away with jumping rope.

He could do 200 jumps in a minute, even fancy ones!

“No, we’re just playing.” Ran Lin finally managed to get up from the ground, grateful for Xia Xinran’s arrival.

Gu Jie wasn’t happy about the interruption; he was enjoying his lifting.

“Playing?” Xia Xinran looked at the equipment on the floor and asked seriously, “Isn’t this recreational activity a bit… strenuous?”

Seeing Gu Jie about to enthusiastically explain the virtues of exercise to Xia Xinran, Ran Lin quickly interjected, “We can explore these later. I still need to greet the other teammates.”

“I’ll join you,” Xia Xinran said. “I’ve just arrived and haven’t seen anyone yet.”

Ran Lin looked at Gu Jie, clearly asking for his opinion.

Gu Jie shrugged. “I met the others an hour ago…”

Ran Lin nodded, not wanting to delay further, and left with Xia Xinran to knock on the next door.

It was Zhang Beichen who answered. He welcomed Ran Lin and Xia Xinran warmly.

The three didn’t chat much. Ran Lin just mentioned he had seen Gu Jie, and Xia Xinran was eager to meet the next teammate. Ran Lin, having no choice, followed along, while Zhang Beichen didn’t mind and only gave a meaningful smile as he saw them off. “There’s a surprise behind the next door.”

The only one left was Lu Yiyao.

Zhang Beichen’s mention of a “surprise” made Ran Lin a bit apprehensive.

Knock, knock—

It was still Ran Lin knocking, while Xia Xinran called out, “Yaoyao, open the door—”

Ran Lin almost choked on his laughter at this nickname, wondering how Lu Yiyao inside the room would react. As the door slowly opened, it wasn’t Lu Yiyao’s face that appeared.

“Han Ze?!” Ran Lin exclaimed in surprise, completely unguarded.

Han Ze, twenty-eight this year, had a face that suited both ancient and modern looks—handsome in historical dramas and dashing in modern attire. He rarely acted cute or youthful, always portraying a mature man. Unlike Lu Yiyao, who had a similar style, Han Ze always carried a subtle aggressiveness in his demeanor, which was both dangerous and attractive to female audiences.

At that moment, he was casually dressed, leaning against the entrance wall, smiling at his friends. “I thought I would be a surprise, but it seems more like a shock.”

Ran Lin was at a loss for words. Although he joined the company with Han Ze, they weren’t close. Soon after signing them, the company, seeing Han Ze’s potential, had Wang Xi, who had just transferred, take him under her wing. After that, Han Ze and they barely crossed paths, and as Han Ze rose to fame with idol dramas, they drifted even further apart.

“Xi Jie really didn’t let slip a word,” Ran Lin said, using someone they both knew well to start the conversation, feeling awkward about being overly familiar.

“This is something you’ll have to ask the program team about. They’re the ones who wanted it kept secret,” Han Ze replied naturally. “Don’t just stand at the door. Come in and sit down.”

Xia Xinran was a bit surprised by the distance between Ran Lin and Han Ze. Although he wasn’t close to Han Ze either, he knew they were from the same company and had the same agent. The only explanation he could think of was that Ran Lin had been too inconspicuous in the company previously.

“Welcome, newcomer,” Xia Xinran said as they entered, extending his hand warmly. “Right now, you might think life is wonderful, but tomorrow the program team will make you regret coming on this trip to Thailand.”

Unlike Xia Xinran’s beauty and Ran Lin’s youthfulness, Han Ze smiled faintly, his eyes and brows exuding steadiness and maturity. “Hearing you say that makes me look forward to it even more.”

They exchanged pleasantries harmlessly for a while. When the conversation turned to tomorrow’s activities, Ran Lin casually said, “Since there are six of us again, maybe we’ll be divided into two groups like we were at Disney.”

Xia Xinran was nodding in agreement when Han Ze expressed confusion. “Six people?”

“Yes,” Xia Xinran said, thinking Han Ze was unfamiliar with the lineup, and immediately began to enthusiastically inform him. “There’s us three, plus Gu Jie, Lu Yiyao, and Zhang Beichen.”

Han Ze seemed to understand where the misunderstanding lay. “Lu Yiyao isn’t participating in this shoot. Didn’t the program team tell you?”

Xia Xinran shook his head, bewildered.

Ran Lin blinked, feeling a mix of emotions—somewhat lost and with a faint, very faint hint of sourness.

The program team hadn’t informed them.

Lu Yiyao hadn’t told him either.

Of course, Ran Lin thought objectively, Lu Yiyao had no obligation to tell him, just like he hadn’t thought to specifically inform Lu Yiyao about his advertisement deal.

After all, they were just ordinary friends who had spent about a dozen days together, and even that was in intervals.

Ran Lin understood all this logically.

But emotions don’t follow logic; they have their own whims. When they’re down, they just sulk.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 27

During the broadcasts of the first and second episodes, Ran Lin was seated in front of the TV, ready and serious, almost to the point of performing a ritual bath and burning incense. But by the third episode, it couldn’t be said that he was entirely calm, but he definitely felt more relaxed.

On the surface, it wasn’t obvious. Ran Lin was still Ran Lin, the sofa was still the same sofa, even the posture—sitting upright with his legs crossed—remained unchanged.

Yet, as the person experiencing it, Ran Lin was acutely aware of the subtle shift in his attitude.

During the first episode, his heart was a mix of extreme nervousness and excitement, both anticipating surprises from the program and worrying about his performance. Hence, even a simple caption or voice-over would have him wide-eyed and breathing rapidly.

By the second episode, the excitement had almost vanished, leaving only unease and pessimism. Every time he appeared on the screen, he would think to himself, ‘Watch, there’s going to be another point of criticism.’

Now, it was finally the third episode.

The excitement and anticipation had receded somewhat, and the unease and pessimism had been swept away a bit, replaced by a sense of nostalgia and warmth for revisiting memories. He watched like one would a mystery movie, guessing the editing, post-production, and the director’s thought process, feeling secretly pleased when right and criticizing the director when wrong. He also watched like viewing a family video, issuing belated sighs at those past joyful moments.

It was a strange and enjoyable experience.

Ran Lin couldn’t pinpoint the origin of this change, but he was enjoying it.

“Why do we have sunscreen when we’re stranded on a deserted island and even struggling for food?”

Lu Yiyao on TV looked baffled, as if Xia Xinran was an alien.

“Right, I-I got stranded. Everything was washed away by the sea, and only it remained. Isn’t that strange?”

Xia Xinran’s unreasonable argument left earthlings defenseless.

“Can I give it back to Xia Xinran now?”

The screen showed Ran Lin, looking confident but a bit foolish.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Since it’s a treasure… then I also want to try some.”

After Lu Yiyao spoke, the subtitle team added a caption for Ran Lin in a flowery font—[What should I do if my teammate is crazy? Urgently waiting online*!]

*It’s a meme, basically meaning urgently waiting online (for a reply/answer to the question I’m asking).

Ran Lin was so amused he couldn’t close his mouth, wishing he could award the post-production team an “Understanding Sister” medal.

This was the first time Lu Yiyao joked with everyone, Ran Lin thought uncertainly. It seemed from here on, the atmosphere among the drifting team slowly moved away from awkwardness towards warmth and friendliness, although occasionally marred by love-hate moments.

On TV, Gu Jie found a coconut!

The camera shifted, and Lu Yiyao was still circling a cactus.

The subtitle team gave the cactus a line—[Little demon, you can’t escape my grasp!]

Lu Yiyao on screen radiated a desire to uproot the cactus.

Ran Lin laughed mercilessly at the TV.

No one could hear him anyway.

But as much as he mocked, his eyes couldn’t leave the screen. The directionally challenged guy on TV was adorably cute, especially when everyone finally gathered together, acting as if nothing had happened, making one want to pinch his pretentious face.

Then it was everyone working together to build a shelter out of coconut leaves.

Followed by trying to start a fire.

On screen, Lu Yiyao was focused and meticulous, while Ran Lin, assisting him, looked on in admiration.

When filming, Ran Lin hadn’t felt it, but now, seeing his own fanboy face on screen, he couldn’t imagine what Lu Yiyao would think.

Worse, the post-production team added a voice-over for him—[Wow, serious men are the most handsome…]

Just when Ran Lin thought the show’s team was fixed on cuteness and couldn’t help but feel amused, a second voice-over popped up—[I also want to become a man who stands tall and proud!]

What is this!

Ran Lin wanted to cry. Even if his face looked the youngest among the five, they didn’t have to create a vibe of a father taking his son camping…

“It’s lit!”

“Hoo—”

‘Well, if it’s a son, then let it be,’ Ran Lin thought, watching on TV as he accidentally blew out the spark in the coconut husk, suddenly finding the preschooler persona quite appealing.

After all, God forgives the mistakes of little children…

“Actually, I think… we don’t necessarily need fire… Um, do you like sashimi?”

Ran Lin on screen asked innocently.

Lu Yiyao on screen looked disheartened, but the subtitle provided a different tone—[Eh? That’s not a bad idea (⊙ o ⊙)!]

The crazy contrast brought a particularly adorable comedic effect.

Ran Lin felt that Lu Yiyao’s persona in this variety show could be established—a shy boy with rich inner thoughts.

In the program, the poor Drifting Team finally enjoyed a seafood feast. It was evident on screen that Xia Xinran loved shellfish, while Lu Yiyao preferred shrimp.

On screen, Ran Lin seemed to have discovered something. The camera followed his gaze, giving a close-up of Lu Yiyao’s full palm.

The blistered skin under the high-definition camera looked even more painful.

Ran Lin, beside the bonfire, watched Lu Yiyao for a long time, and the post-production team spoke for him—[That must hurt a lot.]

Lu Yiyao finally glanced over, which Ran Lin saw as somewhat puzzled; clearly, Lu Yiyao didn’t know what he was looking at then, but the post-production team still completed the narrative—[It’s alright. I’m a man.]

‘Lu Yiyao would definitely complain about the added drama,’ Ran Lin thought with amusement.

After thinking about it, he was a bit worried whether Lu Yiyao would notice his gaze.

At that time, it was purely admiration and sympathy.

But now… he wasn’t so guilt-free.

Lu Yiyao: “When I was in middle school, I joined the scouts; these were essential skills. Later, in college, I’d occasionally go camping with friends. It’s cheaper than traveling.”

Ran Lin: “Oh right, you studied abroad.”

Ran Lin: “Have you ever encountered a bear while camping?”

Lu Yiyao: “…”

Lu Yiyao: “Are you serious?”

Ran Lin: “Of course I’m joking.”

Lu Yiyao: “…”

Post-production voice-over—[If being serious is a mistake, then I’ll change it!]

Ran Lin was utterly charmed by the bewildered Lu Yiyao.

Who could resist this natural flirt, which left him feeling up and down? Such wicked straight-guy flirting should indeed leave someone feeling forlorn a few times!

The sun set, and the moon rose. The stars filled the sky, and waves lapped the shore, bringing a cool night breeze.

Xia Xinran was quietly called away, leaving the remaining four with new tasks assigned shortly afterward.

In the following ten minutes, Ran Lin understood what luxury meant.

Xia Xinran’s experience was akin to “a night in heaven”!

A luxurious and spacious hotel suite, a wide variety of late-night snacks, from Chinese to Western to Japanese cuisine, all for Xia Xinran, the food lover, to indulge in. Then, a relaxing, exotic spa treatment, followed by a blissful sleep in a king-sized bed.

In contrast, they spent the same ten minutes working hard—smoke and fire, fanning, grilling skewers, cooking pineapple rice—demonstrating all kinds of skills just to earn money for the person fast asleep.

Even the subtitle team couldn’t bear to watch, providing a rare, conscientious voice-over—[One night in Sanya, you’ve suffered so much…]

The scene shifted to Xia Xinran, fast asleep, with a special effect word cloud above his head—[The pineapple rice is so delicious, it’s making my mouth water…]

Clearly, Xia Xinran’s foodie character, even in dreams, was unchallenged and stood proudly.

The production team kept their promise, not revealing any exterior information about Lu Yiyao’s private residence. The scene cut directly to the villa’s living room with post-production special effects transitioning the shot.

Then came the highlight—Truth or Dare.

Ran Lin quickly sat up, not wanting to miss a single scene. As he watched, he realized the director had cut out the part where Xia Xinran asked Zhang Beichen if giving up first place in the first episode was intentional.

Ran Lin was a bit surprised. He thought that even if everything else was cut, this segment would be kept because it seemed like a topic that could ignite discussions or even controversies. Even though Xia Xinran later defused it as a joke, fans’ tendency to overinterpret wouldn’t be quelled by the idols’ clarification.

Moreover, the production team could have used crafty editing and guiding subtitles to intensify the topic and steer public opinion.

But there was none of that.

It was simply cut out, clean, and straightforward.

This kind of editing and post-production that avoided sensitive points and emphasized team spirit seemed to have started in the second episode and became clearer in the third. Ran Lin could only think of one possibility—the feedback from the first episode was so damaging that the production team decided to thoroughly change their approach.

Regardless of the truth, this blend of passion and humor was indeed much more enjoyable than competition and conflict.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?”

The sudden question pulled Ran Lin back to the present.

On the TV, Zhang Beichen was staring intently at him.

Ran Lin almost forgot about this segment, his body jolting in realization.

Zhang Beichen had already been sending signals back then, a discovery that made Ran Lin break out in a cold sweat.

Zhang Beichen had protected himself too well.

Despite a harmonious recording, he hadn’t shown much enthusiasm on the program. This could be just his personality, as not everyone is as outgoing as Xia Xinran, not to mention that they just recorded a theme song together, barely more than an acquaintance.

But now, Ran Lin tended to think he was being cautious, not necessarily of him but of everyone, of the entire program. Any hint of risk, and he wouldn’t show his hand.

The person on screen asking about love at first sight was the same, appearing so natural. In comparison, the one being asked, himself, seemed oddly uncomfortable, quickly turning the question to Lu Yiyao, fearing a follow-up.

At that time, he was only waiting for Lu Yiyao’s question and didn’t look at Zhang Beichen again.

Now, through the lens, he clearly saw the fleeting complexity in Zhang Beichen’s eyes.

There might have been disappointment, but it wasn’t just that; there were other indescribable emotions.

But that light disappeared too quickly, and the Zhang Beichen on screen remained natural, flawless, and impeccable.

When Zhang Beichen flirted in Dubai, Ran Lin thought for a moment that he had been taken over by a different soul because his behavior was completely different from the Zhang Beichen he knew.

But now, putting together these previously unnoticed details, the two Zhang Beichens seemed to overlap.

Yet this overlapped figure was still just an outline, like looking through frosted glass.

People who protect themselves too much are always hard to see through.

Being propositioned in the circle wasn’t new to Ran Lin. He wasn’t sure if it was because the proportion of gays in the circle was high or if the field itself was more open to such things. As long as mutual radar confirmation was established, most would come over to flirt, not talking about love or affection, just seizing the time between schedules to enjoy a night together—just as Zhang Beichen said, a mutual understanding, simple and not too complicated.

Ran Lin’s rejection was always consistent—sorry, I’m straight.

It was both a refusal and a way to protect himself. Like those who approached him, seeing him as someone without fame or temper and seemingly tight-lipped.

But not everyone can be as straightforward as Zhang Beichen.

Some, who persistently harassed him via WeChat or phone, Ran Lin simply blocked.

With the examples of his seniors, Ran Lin actually didn’t dislike Zhang Beichen. Even if he flirted and realized there was no hope, the man withdrew cleanly, retreating back to a comfortable friendship. If this was also due to a self-protection mechanism, then Ran Lin quite liked it—protecting oneself without causing trouble to others.

But love at first sight?

He didn’t believe in it.

Despite Zhang Beichen’s unprecedented tenderness in his eyes and tone when asking the question, Ran Lin still felt something was off. The tenderness came too quickly and left in a hurry, as if it was meant for the question itself, or the “shadow” in that question.

There must be someone who made Zhang Beichen fall in love at first sight.

Ran Lin didn’t know who it was, but it definitely wasn’t him.

“I’m sorry.”

The result of thinking aimlessly and too much was that Ran Lin had already apologized to Lu Yiyao on screen.

The jokes and banter from the companions delayed a few minutes, also lightening the atmosphere suddenly.

Then came Lu Yiyao’s response. “Forget it.”

Revisiting this scene, Ran Lin felt increasingly that this person was gentle.

He didn’t need to speak softly or smile like a gentleman; his gentleness came from within, a kind of warm kindness that everyone around could feel.

If this man were married, he would surely spoil his wife to the heavens.

Even after the program ended, Ran Lin still envied the hypothetical lucky lady.

“How do you feel?” Wang Xi’s call was almost inevitable, usually within fifteen minutes after the program’s end.

“It was okay…” Ran Lin typically reserved his true feelings when talking to his agent to avoid being criticized too harshly.

“It really got better with each episode. If you had performed like this in the first episode, you wouldn’t have been torn apart so badly. What a waste of your good looks.”

Although it was meant as a compliment, it always sounded like criticism when it came from Wang Xi.

“But what was that apology about?” Wang Xi’s tone grew serious. “If it weren’t for the other guests and the subtitle team diverting to the daytime fire-making, fans would definitely have linked it to previous speculations.”

Ran Lin: “…”

Wang Xi: “Are you passively resisting?”

Ran Lin, flustered, quickly said, “I had no excuse. I could only admit my fault.”

Wang Xi sighed. “Do you really feel so sorry for Lu Yiyao that you apologized on camera?”

Looking back now, Ran Lin also felt he had been impulsive, but perhaps the atmosphere was too good at the time, and he unconsciously spoke his heart…

“Lucky Lu Yiyao didn’t react weirdly, and he actually let it go.” Wang Xi couldn’t stand it. “You two naive sweethearts are a perfect match; even meeting at the airport seems like fate.”

Ran Lin grinned sheepishly, his voice sweet. “Really?”

Wang Xi detected the laughter but was confused. “What are you laughing about?”

Ran Lin came back to his senses, cleared his throat, and changed the subject without answering. “Xi Jie, I’m planning to reinstall Weibo.”

Wang Xi was surprised. “Oh, recovering so soon? Aren’t you afraid of being shattered by haters* again?”

*Black powder. Note: Powder refers to fans/fandom, while a black powder is an anti-fan.

Ran Lin held his forehead and said, “Sister, considering I’ve just painstakingly pieced together my glass heart, could you be a bit gentler with your teasing?”

“You shouldn’t have uninstalled it in the first place—such a small matter.” Wang Xi scoffed.

But Ran Lin knew she was happy, remembering her understanding when he had uninstalled it.

“Thank you for all your help these days,” Ran Lin sincerely said.

“There weren’t many Weibo posts. Besides, we’re all working towards the same goal. Don’t think it’s because we love you.”

Ran Lin chuckled. “Using love as motivation is so cute.”

Wang Xi didn’t want to talk to her artist anymore; it was a strain on her IQ.

Ran Lin didn’t lie to Wang Xi. After ending the call, he immediately redownloaded the Weibo app.

The familiar big eyes appeared on his phone screen, and Ran Lin found himself actually missing it.

The new messages and @mentions on the homepage weren’t many, probably because Wang Xi had checked the comments during the program’s broadcast.

Skipping the comments—too unpredictable and risky, best saved for last—Ran Lin first opened his own profile.

Having been away for half a month, aside from the regular reposts of trailers and behind-the-scenes from the program, there were actually four real interactive Weibo posts. Arranged in chronological order from oldest to most recent—

The day before the fourth episode’s filming:

[I’ve already made a secret strategy 🐶 #NationalFirstLoveDriftingStory# @XXTV @Gu Jie @Lu Yiyao @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen]

Five minutes after the second episode’s broadcast, with a picture of panda babies from Chengdu Panda Base:

[“Tumbling” through the red dust. 😏 [Image] #NationalFirstLoveDriftingStory# @XXTV @Gu Jie @Lu Yiyao @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen]

The day before the fifth episode’s filming:

[What tasks await us in the desert~~ Ah, just thinking about it feels so thrilling. 🐶 #NationalFirstLoveDriftingStory# @XXTV @Gu Jie @Lu Yiyao @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen]

Nine minutes after the third episode’s broadcast, just before Wang Xi’s call:

[Someone sneakily enjoying a dreamy night doesn’t get photo edits. 🐶 //Xia Xinran: Can’t you edit it before posting!!! //Lu Yiyao: [Image] #NationalFirstLoveDriftingStory# @XXTV @Gu Jie @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen]

These few posts should have taken just a glance to go through, but Ran Lin stared at them for a long time.

He thought his Weibo would be dismal except for the promotional posts for the program, but surprisingly, there was a bit of prosperity.

The last post was clearly reposted by Wang Xi, with her favorite dog-head icon. In this post, the picture Lu Yiyao uploaded was a group selfie they took at the beach villa after filming the third episode. Birthday boy Xia Xinran, wearing a paper crown, was flanked by his four guardians, laughing like a kid, devoid of his usual beautiful looks.

Ran Lin hurriedly checked Xia Xinran’s Weibo to see if it was just him or if the others had also spoken up.

Sure enough, every post could be matched on Xia Xinran’s page.

[I strongly request to go to Disneyland. 🤪 🤪 🤪#NationalFirstLoveDriftingStory# @XXTV @Gu Jie @Lu Yiyao @Ran Lin @Zhang Beichen]

[I love spicy hot pot so much. 🥲 #NationalFirstLoveDriftingStory# @XXTV @Gu Jie @Lu Yiyao @Ran Lin @Zhang Beichen]

[Rich guy, let’s be friends! 🤑 #NationalFirstLoveDriftingStory# @XXTV @Gu Jie @Lu Yiyao @Ran Lin @Zhang Beichen]

[Can’t you edit it before posting!!! //Lu Yiyao: [Image] #NationalFirstLoveDriftDiary# @XXTV @Gu Jie @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen]

But there was also a new post, just two minutes ago—

[I also feel sorry for your blister just like @Ran Lin 😭 😭 But then again, why didn’t you say anything at the time? Did you think you are Captain America or something? 😠 @Lu Yiyao”

Compared to the previous posts tagged with the show’s name and TV station, this one had turned into a casual interaction and teasing among friends, especially evident when compared to the earlier posts—the format was more relaxed and the tone more familiar.

Ran Lin’s heart started beating faster.

Taking a deep breath, he sneakily clicked into Lu Yiyao’s Weibo.

[Shanghai, here I come! #NationalFirstLoveDriftingStory# @XXTV @Gu Jie @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen]

[Of course, a visit to Chengdu must include Wuhou Shrine and Du Fu Thatched Cottage 👐#NationalFirstLoveDriftingStory# @XXTV @Gu Jie @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen]

[Hearing that I’m going to Dubai, my family has already sent me a shopping list and style pictures 🤷 #NationalFirstLoveDriftingStory# @XXTV @Gu Jie @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen]

[[Image] #NationalFirstLoveDriftingStory# @XXTV @Gu Jie @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen]

When Ran Lin saw the third post, he instantly remembered Lu Yiyao’s desolate struggle with packing, which was hilariously pitiful.

Seeing the fourth post, his smile faded a bit, feeling a warmth in his heart.

Clicking on the image in the fourth post again, Ran Lin somewhat understood why Xia Xinran was so frustrated. The photo wasn’t just about being barefaced; due to the angle needed to fit everyone in, the image was somewhat distorted, reducing everyone’s handsomeness by a factor of four. Plus, with everyone laughing unrestrainedly, even Xia Xinran had a rare appearance of a double chin. It was a testament to their friendship that he didn’t throw a metaphorical dagger at Lu Yiyao.

That photo was shared in their WeChat group that night, so everyone had it.

But Ran Lin didn’t expect Lu Yiyao to post it, tagging all four of them.

Although it still looked like a promotional format, he felt that there must be some camaraderie formed over several episodes.

Ran Lin spent more time on Lu Yiyao’s Weibo than on his own or Xia Xinran’s combined.

He was so engrossed that when he finally remembered to go back to his homepage and refreshed it, two new posts with Lu Yiyao’s avatar appeared—

[Is it me you pity, or my blister? 💦 //Xia Xinran: [I also feel sorry for your blister just like @Ran Lin 😭 😭 But then again, why didn’t you say anything at the time? Did you think you are Captain America or something? 😠 @Lu Yiyao]

[Here, let you have a good look [Image] @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen @Gu Jie]

Ran Lin was stunned by the two fresh Weibo posts. Especially the last one, where he was the first to be tagged, different from the usual order. Normally, it would mean Lu Yiyao wasn’t particular about the order, just casually tagging four people, regardless of sequence. But in a more imaginative interpretation, he felt Lu Yiyao really wanted to tag him first, hence only typing “you” instead of “you all” in the original text, and later perhaps thought it was too conspicuous, so he tagged everyone.

Ran Lin was startled by his own thoughts, feeling like he’d go crazy if he continued this way.

Not knowing what to do, he clicked on Lu Yiyao’s picture…

And all thoughts vanished.

It was a close-up photo of a hand with a ruptured blister. The fresh skin underneath streaked with blood, making it truly heart-wrenching to see, and made one want to scold the person who posted it.

Refreshing the homepage again.

Sure enough, one of their friends had already expressed what everyone was thinking—

[Crazy, I just finished my late-night snack!!!! //Lu Yiyao: Here, let you have a good look [Image] @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen @Gu Jie]

Through the phone screen, Ran Lin could imagine Gu Jie’s fiery reaction.

Refreshed again, and Xia Xinran and Zhang Beichen chimed in—

[Do I have company to beat him up? //Crazy, I just finished my late-night snack!!!! //Lu Yiyao: Here, let you have a good look [Image] @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen @Gu Jie]

[😏 //Xia Xinran: Do I have company to beat him up? //Crazy, I just finished my late-night snack!!!! //Lu Yiyao: Here, let you have a good look [Image] @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen @Gu Jie]

Ran Lin couldn’t help his lips curling up and finally decided to contribute to the group’s effort—

[Count me in 🤖 //Zhang Beichen: 😏 //Xia Xinran: Do I have company to beat him up? //Crazy, I just finished my late-night snack!!!! //Lu Yiyao: Here, let you have a good look [Image] @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen @Gu Jie]

The homepage finally calmed down.

The number of new messages had multiplied several times.

Ran Lin didn’t delay any further, took a deep breath, and opened all the new messages—

Muxi Clan Society: [After three episodes, I’ve turned into a fan of yours. Keep it up!]

For You Alone: [Time reveals a person’s heart. You’re truly a warm-hearted man!]

Staying Up Before Exam Watching Variety Show: [Been a fan since the first episode. Idols who love to laugh can’t be bad people!]

Angel’s Little Wings in Summer: [Thank you for choosing Xiaxia’s favorite Black Forest cake ❤️ ❤️]

Lu Manman’s Eternal Heart: [Thank you for accompanying God Lu in fire-making. Being under the sun for hours, even though you blew out the spark of hope in one breath, since God Lu said it’s okay, then it’s okay. I criticized you before, but you did ride God Lu’s coattails. Let’s call it even, from black to fan~]

Heart Flying in Burning Noodles: [I just want to ask those who previously criticized Ran Lin, shouldn’t you come and apologize?]

Beauty Like Jade: [Climbing over the wall to ask, what brand is Xiaxia’s sunscreen? Really want to know 😂]

No More Shopping or I’ll Chop My Hands Off: [Replying to @Beauty Like Jade: I knew I wasn’t the only one curious about the sunscreen! The program’s pixelation was too cruel, torturing my OCD! 🤪 🤪 🤪]

A Man Who Doesn’t Strip: [So is the Green Forest CP over? Why were the last two episodes all about righteous camaraderie? 😭]

My Idol Definitely Doesn’t Weigh 200 Pounds: [What’s the Green Forest CP?]

A Man Who Doesn’t Strip: [Replying to @My Idol Definitely Doesn’t Weigh 200 Pounds: Green (Lu 陆) Forest (Lin 霖)*, you know 😃]

*Clarity: The Lu from (陆) Lu Yiyao and Lin (霖) from Ran Lin doesn’t actually mean Green Forest. This person is referencing Green Forest [Lu Lin] (绿林) which is a homophone [Lu Lin] (陆霖).

No Fun Without Lu: [Replying to @A Man Who Doesn’t Strip: CP fans, get lost! Was about to turn from black to fan, but seeing you guys, I won’t. Forever black for CP shippers!]

My Idol Definitely Doesn’t Weigh 200 Pounds: [Replying to @No Fun Without Lu: No need to get so angry…]

Treasure Green Forest and Nestle in My Heart: [Replying to @No Fun Without Lu: Sorry, didn’t manage well. I’ll take them back to the forums. Please don’t involve the idols. Turn into a fan as you should, muah.]

Wishing Lantern: [I’m a sole fan of Ran Lin and also don’t support CP shipping, but why do I feel a little sorry for the CP fans quietly returning to their corner…]

Wind Blows Clouds Moving the Unmoved Heart: [Anyone with clear eyes can see the main characters’ relationship is getting better. Fans continuing to fight will only be embarrassing.]

Little Fan of Burning Noodle’s House: [Replying to @ Wind Blows Clouds Moving the Unmoved Heart: Right, right, everyone should just support their own favorites. As long as there’s no malice, and the celebrities themselves have a good relationship, it’s all taken as a joke. On the contrary, hurtful words are the worst. Kind words warm for three winters, harsh words chill to the bone.]

Ran Lin felt particularly fond of the ID ” Little Fan of Burning Noodle’s House” as if he had seen it before.

Thinking for a moment, Ran Lin exited Weibo, opened WeChat, and indeed found this ID in the photo shared by Lu Yiyao.

It really was a little fan who had been supporting him all along.

“Good,” Ran Lin announced solemnly to his phone screen. “You’ve successfully caught my attention.”

As soon as he finished speaking, before he could laugh, a new message came from Lu Yiyao.

Ran Lin, staring at Lu Yiyao’s chat window, was startled when the message appeared, feeling as if he’d been caught red-handed.

Lu Yiyao sent another picture, but this time it was just one, without any mosaic, revealing all the details. The moment Ran Lin opened the enlarged image, he was startled by the imposing formation of Yiyao’s fans—

Love Yao for Life: [God Lu, your bewildered expression when Ran Lin asked if you had ever encountered a bear was so adorable!!! So, did you ever encounter a bear while camping? 🐶]

Dreaming of Iceland: [God Lu, did you encounter any bears while camping? 🐶]

Mr. Lotus-Mouthed: [God Lu, did you encounter any bears while camping? 🐶]

Hail Comes Lalala: [God Lu, did you encounter any bears while camping? 🐶]

Black Coffee: [God Lu, did you encounter any bears while camping? 🐶]

……

As the initiator of this question, Ran Lin felt deeply guilty.

But—

The fans, with their devilish charm, had the idol take the blame!

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