As Wu Sheng and Qian Ai were locked in a “deep gaze” with the lion, the sky outside the airplane window suddenly darkened. The darkness was abrupt, as if someone had draped a black cloth over the entire plane.
Caught off guard by this change, Wu Sheng was momentarily bewildered until a gust of wind suddenly hit him face-on.
“Watch out—”
Before he could react, Qian Ai had tackled him into the seat. At the same time, something whizzed over their heads and landed down nearby with a thud!
The lights in the cabin flashed on!
Looking past Qian Ai, Wu Sheng saw the lion on the floor of the aisle. Had they been a second slower, they would now be under its claws. But even now, it was only a step away!
“Roar—”
The lion, having missed its pounce, growled furiously. It slightly arched its body, ready to leap up like lightning for a fierce attack!
This time, from a higher vantage, Wu Sheng and Qian Ai were wedged in between seat gaps, seemingly without any chance of a lucky escape.
However, contrary to Wu Sheng’s expectation, Qian Ai, who usually prioritized self-preservation, showed fear but no despair. Instead, there was a determined glint in his eyes—a desperate gamble.
Wu Sheng’s heart skipped a beat. In a life-or-death moment, you shout out a dish’s name?! But his ever-racing brain instantly conjured up a bowl of steaming Shaanxi belt noodles, thanks to Kuang Jinxin—the night before, the trio had dined at a nearby inn, and Kuang Jinxin had picked out this uniquely named dish from the menu.
Wait.
Wu Sheng stopped his mental image, starting to understand. He had always believed that “stationery is disposable”, but given the current situation, were Qian Ai’s [Words Like Pearls and Jade] not yet used up?!
As if to confirm his guess, right after Qian Ai’s roar, three wooden, three-dimensional characters appeared out of thin air above the seat! Aside from the character for “面” the remaining two identical characters were so complicated in their strokes that they seemed more like a chunk of wood carved into intricate patterns, so dense that they seemed like solid plates.
In a flash, these three plummeting characters gained a millisecond advantage in the struggle against the beast, landing atop the seats just before the pouncing lion. The lion crashed into the closely arranged characters with a thud, crushing “面” under its hind paws, but no matter what, it couldn’t get past those two ‘biang*’ characters!
*Click the link to see what the character biang looks like to see how complicated it is. It also shows you how to write the strokes (which is relevant per below).
It wasn’t that the lion was ineffective; it was that these characters were too buggy! They were complicated, tightly structured, and unsearchable in any dictionary. Still, as armor, they were “worth three ordinary characters”, none of which could be less than fifteen strokes. According to the innkeeper’s recitation, to write ‘biang’, you need a mnemonic—
Apex rising up to the sky, over two bends of the Yellow River’s side, the character for ‘eight’ is opening wide, while character ‘speech’ enters inside, you twist, I twist, you grow, I grow, sandwiching a big King horse inside, with ‘heart’ below and ‘moon’ beside, leaving a hook to hang the sugar candy low, on our carriage to Xianyang we’ll ride*.
*Clarity: There’s a song that basically teaches you how to write the character ‘biang’. You can watch this YouTube video that breaks down each character and also goes over the song. It’s quite informative.
Wu Sheng: “On the count of three, we’ll flip the wooden characters and the lion together.”
Qian Ai: “Then what?”
Wu Sheng: “Run towards economy class.”
Qian Ai: “I like this plan.”
Five minutes earlier, in economy class.
Wives crying, children fussing, luggage clattering down, balloons flying, flight attendants chasing, a suitcase of cash burned to ashes.
Xu Wang, relying on his strong willpower and psychological quality, had made it to rows 54 and 55, completely drained. Could a diligent mouth bring out a golden foul? He hadn’t managed to do so and felt utterly exhausted.
“What’s wrong?” Feng Wusi (54), who had been chatting halfway, suddenly stopped, looking at Xu Wang somewhat timidly. “Do you also think I’m a bit odd?”
Xu Wang sighed tiredly, trying to muster a smile, and waved it off. “Not at all.”
Feng Wusi lowered his head, murmuring, “Everyone thinks that daytime flights are safer, but I just like red-eye flights.”
Red-eye flights, or overnight flights, are so named because passengers often have tired, red eyes from the difficulty of resting well on the plane—Xu Wang had just been educated about this by the passenger.
“You youngsters always pursue these ethereal feels and a sense of ritual.” Before Xu Wang could speak, Hua Wuwu (55), sitting next to Feng Wusi, had already interjected very naturally into the conversation. “Sitting on a plane, what’s the difference between day and night flights? It’s not like you’re piloting it.”
This was a very familiar young man, thin and tall, fashionably dressed with ash-gray dyed hair and delicate, handsome features that inexplicably evoked a protective instinct.
Provided he kept silent.
However, “silence is golden” was too difficult for him. Xu Wang and Feng Wusi had hardly chatted for two minutes before he interrupted at least five times, smoothly taking over the conversation and twisting it into his “storyline”.
But Xu Wang really didn’t want to chat more with this storytelling fellow!
“Learn from me. Pursue something tangible and touchable.” Perhaps influenced by Xu Wang’s previous coldness, this time Hua Wuwu didn’t bother him, instead imposing his “life philosophy” on Feng Wusi. “Life isn’t measured by its length, but by its breadth. When you look back, you won’t regret the colorless or the parched. Then, at your deathbed, you can say, my entire life and all my energy have been devoted to the world’s most magnificent cause!”
Feng Wusi, who had been shrinking, looked up for the first time, locking eyes with Hua Wuwu. There was a light of longing flashing in his eyes. “W-What cause?”
Hua Wuwu leaned closer, uttering each word with the utmost seriousness. “Car—nal—plea—sure*.”
*(声色犬马) Idiom referring to a hedonistic life pursuing sensual pleasure. Broken down, it means sound, color, dogs, horses; the former two refer to the pleasure of song and women, while the latter two refer to hunting and racing (gambling).
Feng Wusi: “……”
Xu Wang clutched his chest. In that moment, he had once again harbored a sliver of hope and illusion for Hua Wuwu’s values. He thought he didn’t need anyone’s help; he would just slap himself!
“But I’m also not one to talk.” Hua Wuwu suddenly changed his tone, looking up slightly with a sad sigh. “As lively as I talk, I’m a giant in thought but a dwarf in action. Haa—” he exhaled gently, as if blowing out imaginary smoke rings. “I too wish to have a fast and furious adventure in these thirty thousand feet of air, alas, a pear blossom falls in the rain in vain, nowhere to find a begonia*…”
*This is referring to the line a pear blossom presses against the begonia (一树梨花压海棠) supposedly written by Su Shi to poke fun at his friend Zhang Xian’s behavior of taking concubines at an old age. Apparently, Zhang Xian was 80 when he married an 18-year-old concubine; thus, the imagery being painted is the pear blossom (old, white/gray) pressing against a begonia flower (it’s often praised for its beauty). || In this context, he’s basically saying he (the pear blossom) couldn’t find the younger partner (begonia) to press on.
“Enough is enough!” Xu Wang couldn’t bear it any longer. All this was such a mess. Not only was the content unhealthy, but the logic was also flawed. “Do you really understand, or are you just pretending? I know without even trying that speed and passion are inversely proportional on this matter!”
Hua Wuwu was taken aback for a moment, then as if enlightenment had struck him, he looked at Xu Wang with bright eyes, as if he had just truly understood the grand harmony of life. “Oh, you…”
He probably meant to compliment Xu Wang, but as soon as he uttered “you”, a group of passengers suddenly burst out from business class with shrieks and screams.
Probably around ten or twenty people ran frantically to the tail of the plane, huddling there and inadvertently blocking Long Legs, Handsome, Stick Figure, and Fair Face, and Kuang Jinxin who was guarding them. But in their panic, the passengers probably didn’t notice these individuals, as they were running backward the whole time, turning around only when there was no way forward, their eyes filled with terror as they stared at the long corridor at the end—the junction of economy and business class.
Xu Wang was in the middle of economy class, maintaining a sideways stance to give way to the rushing crowd, looking at the terrified faces at the left end, then at the junction of the two cabins on the right, unconsciously swallowing his saliva with a foreboding feeling.
Just as his last hair stood on end, darkness suddenly descended.
Xu Wang dared not move, trying to remain calm while standing still. His heart, however, had leaped to his throat.
Fortunately, it was only a few seconds before the lights in the cabin turned back on.
Seats, passengers, luggage racks—everything became clear and visible again, but the feel of the cabin under the bright daylight was now starkly different. It was still dark outside the windows, like a vast night, and the cabin, though lit, wasn’t very bright, maintaining just the basic visibility, exuding the quiet and eeriness of night.
“A… red eye?” Feng Wusi suddenly muttered to himself, uncertain yet with a tinge of hope.
Xu Wang looked up at the lights in silence, finally piecing together the cause and effect, and turned to pat Feng Wusi’s head. “Congratulations, your wish has come true.”
Having gone through all sorts of disheartening events, Xu Wang genuinely felt Feng Wusi’s little wish was completely tolerable. It hadn’t led to any fires or fights, no spousal disputes or luggage thrown at heads—it might as well be in a children’s amusement park.
By comparison, he was more worried about the situation in business class.
So many passengers running over must mean something “big” had been triggered there. Although he was relatively reassured with Wu Sheng there, as a teammate and old classmate, not going to check it out after hearing the commotion seemed both unreasonable and illogical…
“Roar roar roar—”
…Maybe he shouldn’t go after all!
“Xu Wang, move aside—”
Wu Sheng’s figure and his shout appeared at the same time, and without a second thought, Xu Wang instinctively obeyed, forcibly squeezing into Hua Wuwu’s spot.
Just as he had settled into his seat, Wu Sheng and Qian Ai ran into the economy class, with a relentless lion hot on their heels only a meter behind!
“What the hell—” Xu Wang despaired, feeling the need to apologize to all the passengers in economy class. Compared to this “storyline”, their joys and sorrows were harmony itself!
In the blink of an eye, Wu Sheng and Qian Ai had reached the middle of the cabin, and with a shout of “move”, they, as if pre-arranged, dived into the seats on either side, instantly clearing a wide path in the aisle.
Whether by coincidence or design, Wu Sheng dove right into Xu Wang’s row, who opened his arms to catch him. Just as he steadied him, before he could feel more, Wu Sheng lifted his head and quickly said, “A scumbag cheated and caught his mistress in a dramatic air-bound affair with another scumbag whose girlfriend happened to be a circus magician.”
Xu Wang was confused but realized Wu Sheng was probably answering his earlier question.
Tonight, ever since the strange phenomenon began, Wen Bin’s watch panel had been constantly popping up with messages. They were all from his gambler—
[I saw you take photos of two people, He Xiaowei and Hidden Blade. That’s a good choice.]
[However, without a clear understanding of what this instance really is, trying to impersonate these two to deceive Zhou Qian and kill him is too risky. It’s inadvisable. You can’t easily fool him, and acting recklessly will only alert him to your intentions.]
[I know you want to kill Zhou Qian to avenge your brother, but you can take your time on this. My advice is to start with the people around him first, like He Xiaowei.]
[Rank God players are different from ordinary players. They can’t always be with Zhou Qian. Killing those who might become Zhou Qian’s teammates in the future is the better strategy.]
[I’ve found out that He Xiaowei’s skills complement Zhou Qian’s perfectly. Without He Xiaowei’s cooperation, Zhou Qian’s ultimate move is easily wasted. So, finding a way to kill He Xiaowei first is a good strategy to deal with Zhou Qian.]
[Ever since you joined the Invincible Legion, I’ve been looking for gambler information about other members of the legion. Thankfully, I prepared in advance and got a handle on the movements of people like Chen Dami.]
[Through Chen Dami’s gambler’s perspective, I learned he’s hiding in a corner behind the hallway of the main hall. The current situation in the hall is…]
[So, you might as well go to the main hall as He Xiaowei and see how things play out, adding more chaos to the scene.]
[Distract the real He Xiaowei, and don’t let him help the real Hidden Blade. By the way, everyone thinks you’re a “ghost” in this instance, so this way, you can hide your real identity. If you’re lucky, you might be able to take out that Rank God player.]
In the dimly lit corridor, Wen Bin silently read all these messages, transformed himself into He Xiaowei, and then cleaned and put away the fruit knife he held. Speaking into the void, he said to his gambler, “I understand. I’ll kill He Xiaowei first. When the real and fake Hidden Blade fight to a stalemate, I’ll appear as He Xiaowei and reap the benefits.”
Gambler: [Right. If you fail, it’s okay. No one knows you’re Wen Bin; they’ll just think you’re the ghost.]
[Then, you can escape by elevator. Due to the special mechanism of this instance, they won’t be able to chase you directly.]
[Now you can go to the main hall. Keep pressing ‘1’, and you’ll eventually get to the real main hall instead of just wandering on the so-called ’11th‘ floor.]
Wen Bin followed his gambler’s instructions, ignoring the murder cases he encountered on each floor.
They seemed thrilling but wouldn’t actually affect the players; they were likely there to confuse. Players who focus solely on analyzing the countless victims’ deaths would probably just waste time and die in this game.
So, Wen Bin’s next move was to continuously press “1” in the elevator. If he saw the lounge in front of him when the door opened, he wouldn’t get out.
After trying several times, he succeeded—the hotel lobby appeared in front of him.
The moment the elevator doors opened, Wen Bin immediately heard a huge commotion. It was the sound of the reception desk being chopped by two blades simultaneously.
Looking up, Wen Bin saw two identical Hidden Blade figures, both heavily injured, fighting to the death at the reception area. He Xiaowei, looking quite at a loss, was trying to help one and then the other.
He couldn’t distinguish who was real and who was fake, attempting to assist both while trying not to get caught in the crossfire.
At the moment, the three people didn’t pay attention to the situation at the elevator. Taking advantage of this, Wen Bin quickly darted out of the elevator and then ran into the corridor on the side.
The U-shaped corridor surrounded the elevator structure, and Wen Bin quickly circled to the back of the elevator.
Wen Bin came here because he received a new message from his gambler—
[Chen Dami and Qi Ke encountered two others who looked exactly like them, and the four of them are currently brawling in the restaurant.]
When Chen Dami first entered the exhibition hall, he followed Boss Batu Fei to Hall A and was now the only member of the Invincible Legion still alive in this bizarre space, apart from Wen Bin.
As for Qi Ke, he came from Hall D and was very skinny.
Initially, three people came from Hall D to the Saiya Hotel. Now, with Xiong Fei and Li Yuan both dead, only Qi Ke was still alive.
Qi Ke originally stayed with Xiong Fei. After Xiong Fei’s death and the bloody scene, he had to look for other solitary players, hoping to stay with them.
Chen Dami originally stayed with fellow legionnaire Erdan, and they were named the “Egg Fried Rice Duo” by Zhou Qian.
Unexpectedly, Erdan believed Zhou Qian’s words and surrendered to the police, leaving Chen Dami alone. Hence, Chen Dami took in Qi Ke.
Thus, Chen and Qi teamed up and began their adventure in this mysterious space.
When the two stumbled into the first floor lobby, they coincidentally encountered two identical Receptionist Wang.
One was settling accounts at the front desk, while the other was sneaking up behind him with an ax, attempting a surprise attack.
Chen Dami and Qi Ke had no idea what was going on. They hid quietly in the side corridor.
Before long, they witnessed one front desk staff killing the other.
After the killing, the murderer dragged the body behind the front desk temporarily and cleaned up the blood with a mop.
He then stored the bloody mop in a cupboard behind the counter and resumed his position, seemingly doing some accounting tasks.
After a while, He Xiaowei appeared.
The two, hiding in the shadows, witnessed He Xiaowei kill the receptionist. The receptionist’s body vanished into thin air, and two Hidden Blade emerged from the elevator and were fighting their way to the lobby.
Unsure of the hotel’s situation and whom to trust, Chen and Qi didn’t dare approach the lobby. Seeing the prowess of the two Hidden Blade, they feared getting hurt and decided to hide in the restaurant.
The restaurant was located directly behind the elevator. Exiting the elevator and turning right, one would reach it after walking down a right-angled corridor.
Since Wen Bin’s gambler had a connection with Chen Dami’s gambler, it was able to obtain this valuable intel.
Thus, Wen Bin managed to avoid He Xiaowei and the two Hidden Blade in the lobby and quietly approached the restaurant. As predicted by his gambler, as he neared the restaurant, Wen Bin heard chaotic fighting sounds.
However, Wen Bin didn’t immediately enter. He shopped in the system store for clothes similar to what He Xiaowei was wearing in the lobby.
After changing, Wen Bin disguised himself and then opened the restaurant door.
Inside, the restaurant was a mess, with tables and chairs scattered, glass cups, porcelain plates, and chopsticks everywhere.
At first glance, Chen Dami was fighting Chen Dami, and Qi Ke was fighting Qi Ke, making it hard to distinguish the real from the fake.
But with intel from his gambler, Wen Bin quickly identified the real ones.
Still, even after drawing out the fruit knife he’d used earlier to deal with Batu Fei, Wen Bin didn’t rush into action.
On the floor in front of him lay several bananas and apples. The bananas were squashed, and Wen Bin disdainfully turned up his nose when he saw them. He then picked up an apple.
After closing the restaurant door, Wen Bin casually sat near the entrance, leisurely peeling and eating the apple.
By the time Wen Bin finished his apple, the four were exhausted from the fight.
The real Chen and Qi were still holding on, hoping that this “He Xiaowei” was genuine and would help them. Meanwhile, the fake Chen and Qi were also persistent, knowing reinforcements were on the way. They believed they would win in a three against two scenario.
However, they were relieved that the newcomer didn’t seem inclined to intervene.
Unexpectedly, as soon as they thought this, the two “ghosts” were dumbfounded.
Amidst the chaotic fight, they heard the sound of an apple core hitting the floor. The next moment, a flash of a knife revealed “He Xiaowei” had thrown away the apple core and was now standing right before them!
……
Wen Bin swiftly dealt with the two “ghosts” and then turned to Chen Dami and Qi Ke.
At this moment, one of them had fallen onto broken glass, bleeding from the butt, and the other had bumped his head and had it buried in his arm and leg. There was a large lump forming on his forehead.
With their injuries all over, the two of them lay on the ground, gasping for breath. When they saw “He Xiaowei” kill those two “ghosts”, they both heaved a sigh of relief, thinking they were safe.
However, seeing “He Xiaowei” looking at them again, they realized something, and their expressions turned to horror.
Chen Dami immediately knelt before “He Xiaowei,” kowtowing as he pleaded, “Look, Wei Ge! I… I was wrong! I was forced to act against my will! I belong to the Legion. I had no choice but to follow our leader. I shouldn’t have offended Boss Zhou Qian or you. Please, have mercy and spare me!”
Qi Ke quickly added, “I never wronged you. I hold no grudge against you. Besides… I always thought you were a good person, Wei Ge…”
Seemingly afraid that Qi Ke would doubt him, Wen Bin laughed heartily.
As he put away his fruit knife, he said, “I’m sorry, both of you. I didn’t deliberately leave you to fend for yourselves. Please don’t misunderstand. I encountered an imposter at the reception desk and discovered a few tricks and flaws of these beings who can disguise themselves as us.”
“So, I needed time to discern. Pretending to be relaxed and eating an apple was a strategy to observe which of you was fake and to make them let down their guard. As you saw, I did quite well, didn’t I? I got rid of the ‘ghosts’.”
Qi Ke and Chen Dami were exhausted and didn’t overthink the situation. They had clearly seen how He Xiaowei dispatched the imposter receptionist. If these imposters are termed “ghosts”, then one ghost should be aligned with the others.
Since this He Xiaowei was willing to kill a “ghost”, he certainly wasn’t on their side; he must be a real player.
“You both should rest a bit. But not for too long. I don’t have time to deal with past grudges or this Invincible Legion you mentioned. Chen Dami, you’re right. You were just following orders from your boss. I won’t hold it against you.”
“Our top priority now is to join forces and fight the ‘ghosts’. There’s a ‘ghost’ in the lobby disguised as a Rank God player, and he’s as powerful as one. We should deal with him first. Oh, by the way…”
Wen Bin quickly took his knife and slashed a cross-shaped wound on the back of his hand. His sleeve was soaked with blood, but he seemed unconcerned. He simply said to the two, “There’s a fake Rank God player, Hidden Blade, in the lobby, as well as a fake version of me. Hidden Blade is my master; I know who the real one is. So, follow my instructions later. To distinguish between the real me and the fake, look at the cross-shaped wound on the back of my hand!”
Qi Ke and Chen Dami responded in unison, “Understood!”
……
Almost at the same moment, inside the hall.
Both Hidden Blade struck each other’s right arm with a blade, reaching the depth where the bone was visible.
In such a situation, continuing to fight with knives was improbable. Both were hoping for their allies to rush over and help. To avoid killing each other, they tacitly dropped their knives at the same time and immediately started grappling.
The real Hidden Blade landed a powerful punch on his opponent’s face, but immediately received a hefty punch in return. Managing to pin the imposter, Hidden Blade, gasping for breath, said, “Hurry up and help! I estimate these ‘ghosts’ know how to locate quickly. His companion could arrive at any moment. If that happens, we’ll be at a huge disadvantage!”
Unexpectedly, the fake Hidden Blade also yelled at He Xiaowei, “I’m your real master! Come help me! If his companions arrive, we’re done for. Think about it, if the fake Zhou Qian and fake 137 appear, do we stand a chance?”
He Xiaowei was dumbfounded. “……”
This isn’t my fault. It’s really confusing. Can anyone truly differentiate?
“Damn it…”
Hidden Blade couldn’t help but swear. Then, as if he had given up hope, he threw something towards He Xiaowei.
A white, fluffy, ball-like object flew quickly towards He Xiaowei.
Seeing this, He Xiaowei was a bit stunned but immediately jumped up and caught it. “W-What is this?”
At the same time, the fake Hidden Blade rolled over, pinning the real Hidden Blade to the ground, and punched him several times.
After taking a few hits, Hidden Blade, filled with rage, managed to roll over and started to fiercely punch the fake’s cheeks, left and right.
At this moment, Hidden Blade realized that the imposter, who was pretending to be him, didn’t dare to continue the sword fight and, after throwing away the sword, had adopted a delaying tactic because he was waiting for his allies.
If the allies that arrive happen to be the fake Bai Zhou, possessing the same sword skills as the real Bai Zhou, then both he and He Xiaowei would be doomed!
Given the circumstances, Hidden Blade had no other choice. Gritting his teeth, he said to He Xiaowei, “I took in so many disciples just to cast a wide net and then carefully choose one to be my Shepherd. Who would have thought that man’s best-laid plans often go awry.”
“He Xiaowei, take this thing and act as my Shepherd. Follow my commands!”
“All my skills and abilities are restricted; I can’t show you my ultimate transformation. The only thing I can do is use an item that forcibly stimulates psychic power, making it reach a threshold, and enter a berserk state!”
“In this state, these ghost beings can’t mimic me. Thus, you’ll know that I am the real one!”
Not long after Hidden Blade finished speaking, He Xiaowei didn’t see any other changes in his body, but he did see three fluffy white tails sprouting from behind him.
He Xiaowei was taken aback. “Holy crap, Master, are you a fox? Are you really this cute? This contrast is huge–”
Hidden Blade interrupted hoarsely, “Shut the hell up. Get to business!”
“Master, I’m coming to save you! I won’t mistake you this time!”
He Xiaowei took a deep breath, walked a few steps to the spot where he had previously fought with “Receptionist Wang “, gripped the ax handle, and pulled it out.
Raising the ax and turning around, just as He Xiaowei was about to shout “Master, I’m here”, he suddenly saw another version of himself. Behind this duplicate were Chen Dami and Qi Ke, and he couldn’t tell whether they were real or fake.
Immediately after, the fake He Xiaowei yelled, “Come on, let’s kill the fake He Xiaowei together!”
In the blink of an eye, the three charged at He Xiaowei.
Meanwhile, the Hidden Blade, who was lying on the ground, had eyes that had turned crimson!
……
On the other side.
Zhou Qian and Bai Zhou entered the elevator. After pressing the number “7”, they headed straight to 1103.
The 12 numbers in the elevator were one set, and the page numbers of the manuscript space were another set. What players needed to find was merely the mapping relationship between these two sets.
Actually, there was no real need for the system to make the mapping relationship too complicated. Because once players recognized the existence of the mapping, it implied they could find the solution. If the mapping was a bit more intricate, it just meant they’d spend more time figuring it out.
With that in mind, Zhou Qian speculated that the relationship between these two sets was as simple as the formula Bai Zhou previously wrote down. Therefore, he and Bai Zhou directly chose “number 7”.
The first time they accessed a page space through the number 7 and went to 1103, the two encountered nothing. But the second time, they found a difference—this time, there was a sign hanging on the doorknob of room 1103, reading “Do Not Disturb”.
This suggested that the writer, Luo Yu, was very likely inside this room!
Zhou Qian and Bai Zhou exchanged glances and approached the door together.
Zhou Qian then raised his hand to knock on the door. Suddenly, a flash of cold light caught his peripheral vision, and his arm was grabbed by Bai Zhou, pulling him behind him.
Before he could look forward, Zhou Qian first turned to Bai Zhou. He saw Bai Zhou’s lips pursed slightly, his cold gaze fixed intently ahead, and then he furrowed his brows.
Noticing Bai Zhou’s expression, Zhou Qian looked forward.
Two people had opened the door of the neighboring room and were now approaching them. It seemed they had been lying in ambush, waiting in the room next door.
Of these two, one bore the appearance of Liu Wansan from the “Invincible Legion”.
And the other one… looked exactly like Zhou Qian himself.
Zhou Qian locked eyes with his doppelganger.
The other Zhou Qian looked at him, smiling with unmistakable malice. “Oh my, you arrived a bit later than I expected.”
Zhou Qian raised an eyebrow, asking, “You know the author’s location and have some way to locate him quickly. Not only do you know where your comrades are, but you can also accurately arrive at the desired page through the elevator panel.”
“So, in the author’s setting, you people from this secondary world, you know the secrets here, right?”
The other Zhou Qian replied, “Of course. That’s why I was waiting for you here.”
The real Zhou Qian laughed. “So, you are in cahoots with the author? You’re here to protect him?”
“You could say that. It’s not hard to guess,” the other Zhou Qian said. “He created this world, allowing us to come to life. Of course, we have to protect him.”
“Really?” Zhou Qian nonchalantly stepped forward, looking provocatively at his counterpart. “But I suddenly don’t think so anymore.”
Hearing this, the eyes of the other Zhou Qian narrowed instantly.
Seeing his reaction, Zhou Qian laughed. “If I were you and could have ambushed you earlier… I would definitely set a trap. Hmm, in this place, weapons are forbidden, and as for traps, there’s no space in this corridor to set them up. So, I would have to ask the author to change the settings. Right? So—”
“If you really were in cahoots with the author, what you should have done is ask him to change the settings, like drawing a concealed death curse on this 1103 door, the kind where I’d die the moment I touched it. But you didn’t.”
“You didn’t, which means you’re not on the author’s side.”
“You only dared to hide timidly behind the adjacent door, listening for movements in the corridor, acting in hushed tones. Why? Are you afraid of disturbing the author next door?”
“So, thank you, it seems you’ve inadvertently given me the password to clear the game.”
With that, Zhou Qian rested his elbow on Bai Zhou’s shoulder, turned his head slightly, and smiled at him.
Staring at Bai Zhou’s nearly flawless profile, Zhou Qian remarked with an insinuating tone, “Zhou Ge, you took an extra look at him just now. Did you mistake him for someone else?”
“He’s merely imitating me. Come, help me get rid of this imposter.”
Hearing Zhou Qian’s words, the man opposite was visibly angered.
But soon, a smirk appeared in his eyes again.
Holding a bone identical to Zhou Qian’s, he said, “Really? But there’s one thing you didn’t consider.”
“Your game clearance time is four days, right? The system says that as long as you survive four days, you can leave from Hall D.”
“But have you ever thought that the flow of time in this space is different from the outside?”
“Zhou Qian, the other me in this world, it’s a pity, but you only have three minutes left.”
“Haha, what you said earlier was indeed right. I’m not aligned with the author. Once he knows of our existence… it’s true that we might vanish. But as long as we delay you for three minutes, you will die. Then, it’ll be you who will turn to ash, and it’ll be us who’ll survive!”
“Ah no… I’m mistaken, hahaha.”
After laughing raucously, the doppelganger’s smile turned even more malicious.
He glared fiercely at the real Zhou Qian, stating, “I don’t even need three minutes. You’re already finished! Even if you kill me now and find the author inside, then what? You don’t know how to locate. You don’t know how to quickly reach that special lobby.”
“A reminder for you, your friend He Xiaowei and Hidden Blade are currently in grave danger. They are surrounded. Not only that—”
“The swastika Nazi killer believer is on his way to the first floor. He’s about to arrive in the lobby!”
At this point, changing his demeanor, the fake Zhou Qian imitated the real Zhou Qian’s expression and turned to Bai Zhou standing opposite him.
Mimicking Zhou Qian’s voice, he said gently, “Zhou Ge, do you want to stay here to kill me or go save your friends?
“Oh, it seems that no matter what choice you make, you’re going to die.”
“But rest assured… possessing the memories of the real Zhou Qian, I’ll shed a few tears for you!”
Finding an excuse to return to his own room, Ran Lin threw himself into bed and rolled around in various ways.
The natural charm of Lu Yiyao was too enchanting. Every word he spoke was as clear and honest as water under the moonlight, but Ran Lin felt utterly beguiled by it, and what’s more, this water turned out to be quite sweet.
Why hadn’t he noticed this trait in Lu Yiyao before?
Or was it something he only showed to friends?
If he was the only one who felt it, did it mean he was special to Lu Yiyao? Wait a second.
Ran Lin suddenly sat up in bed, realizing he might have entered a misunderstanding.
Just because he felt Lu Yiyao was charming didn’t necessarily mean Lu Yiyao was intentionally being charming. Maybe it was just his own… gaydar that was overly sensitive?!
That was a sad realization.
But having an answer, Ran Lin’s heart rate began to slow down.
Thankfully, Lu Yiyao was straight. Ran Lin thought with some relief; otherwise, it seemed all too easy for him to lose control and fall for him. It made sense why Star Lu was popular…
Wait.
Ran Lin, sitting on the bed holding the blanket, looked serious and furrowed his brows. After a while, he swallowed hard, as if frightened by his own thoughts.
Lu Yiyao… He’s definitely straight, right?
Usually, gay people are quite sensitive to each other, and in most cases, a glance is enough to know if someone is part of the community. But after all, one can’t be absolutely certain about these things. What if, maybe, just maybe…
Ran Lin felt he was suffering from “trying desperately to categorize Lu Yiyao as gay syndrome.”
This wild speculation wasn’t helping. Ran Lin decided to use his ultimate move—summoning the paparazzi.
The hotel’s Wi-Fi was as fast as an F1 car. Ran Lin opened a web page on his phone and typed in Lu Yiyao’s name. The dropdown menu suggested “Lu Yiyao’s girlfriend”, showing how many fans searched for it daily.
Ran Lin felt conflicted because that’s what he wanted to search for too…
The page refreshed with the keyword, but all he saw were either promotional articles from drama production or actresses, or clickbait titles from websites. The patterns were similar—”Lu Yiyao’s Night Meeting with XXX”, “Lu Yiyao and XXX Fall in Love on Set”, “Lu Yiyao’s Past Girlfriends PK*”. But none of them were concrete evidence.
*Term usually used in gaming for player killing but has now expanded colloquially to mean a comparison or contest between people or things.
Ran Lin thought he must be crazy because he then returned to the homepage and entered the keyword “Lu Yiyao’s boyfriend”, a wildly outrageous search.
When the page refreshed, apart from one generic article, the rest were unrelated.
The article’s title was—”Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin Sweet Dog Abuse* at the Airport”.
*Metaphoric way of describing one’s envy of seeing couples PDA. Basically, those who are single are referred to as “single dogs” and when they see other couples showing off PDA (dog food), they become abused dogs (a reminder that they are single).
The harsh reality, like a bucket of cold water, awakened Ran Lin from his wild fantasies.
Tossing aside his phone, he turned over and lay on his back, surrounded by the illusion of numerous invisible hands slapping his face. Ran Lin completely cut off his fanciful thoughts.
“People take you as a real friend, and here you are, overthinking your relationship.” Ran Lin looked up at the beautiful ceiling of the hotel room as if it were a mirror reflecting another version of himself, earnestly accepting criticism.
Overthinking can be scary, especially when things are unclear, tormenting one’s heart. But once you have clarity, you feel at ease. Besides, having calmed down, Ran Lin realized that his feelings for Lu Yiyao were not to the extent of being unable to live without reciprocation. He admitted his crush, but it was possible to be just friends.
Just like he realized Lu Yiyao’s fear of heights and quietly accompanied him without pointing it out, and Lu Yiyao noticed his likes and quietly kept them in mind when getting gifts. Such a friendship was already heartwarming and satisfying.
Not to mention those screenshots.
Lu Yiyao was truly exceptional with friends. No matter how Ran Lin thought about it, he felt like he was the one benefiting.
With the clouds dispersed, Ran Lin felt much lighter. He sat up, reached for the perfume, and began excitedly unpacking it.
Soon, the plastic outer wrapping was stripped away, and Ran Lin opened the box, taking out the perfume. The bottle was small and exquisite, identical in design to the larger milliliter versions, only proportionally reduced in size. This made it less of the stable luxury typical of men’s perfumes and added a bit of delicacy. The cool, clear glass felt comfortable in his hand.
Ran Lin suddenly wanted to act like those in the movies, spritzing the perfume into the air and then stepping forward into the mist, waiting for the tiny fragrance particles to fall and permeate.
But staring at the 30ml bottle for a long time, he ultimately couldn’t bear to waste it and just dabbed a bit on his wrists and neck.
Just as he finished, before Ran Lin had time to savor it, the doorbell rang.
Feeling guilty as if he was doing something wrong, Ran Lin quickly stuffed the perfume under the pillow and went to open the door naturally, only to find it was Zhang Beichen.
He was stunned upon opening the door, remaining so until Zhang Beichen joked, “Aren’t you going to let me in?”
Zhang Beichen always gave Ran Lin a feeling of being sunny, gentle, and kind. Even when he was playful, it was a warm and cheerful openness, like the caring male lead in a youth film who loved to ride bikes with the female lead. He was uncompetitive and quietly protective. If Lu Yiyao’s honesty came from his principles, Zhang Beichen’s came from his gentle nature.
But now, this slightly teasing Zhang Beichen seemed a bit unfamiliar.
Suppressing his unease, Ran Lin quickly stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter. “You’re the only one who would wait politely for me to invite you in. If it were Xia Xinran, he would just barge in.”
Zhang Beichen entered the room with ease, closing the door behind him, then said, “I’m not like him.”
Ran Lin, who had been waiting to close the door, found himself with nothing to do but stand there awkwardly with Zhang Beichen.
Feeling uncomfortable, Ran Lin turned to walk further into the room, joking as he went, “Of course, you’re different. One Xia Xinran is already enough of a headache. If there were a few more, the director would probably cry.”
“I came to see you, but you keep talking about others. That’s quite heartbreaking.”
Ran Lin had just pulled up a chair, intending to invite Zhang Beichen to sit, when he heard this remark.
Looking up, the other person had a bright smile, appearing very natural, as if he was merely commenting on the pleasant weather.
Ran Lin wasn’t sure if he was overthinking or if it was something else. “Did you come to see me for something?”
Zhang Beichen raised his eyebrows slightly, countering, “Can’t I come to chat with you if there’s nothing urgent?”
“Of course, you can,” Ran Lin felt somewhat pressured by the standing Zhang Beichen and simply pointed to another chair, inviting him directly. “Have a seat.”
Zhang Beichen didn’t sit but stood there for a while, looking at the chair Ran Lin was sitting on and the one left for him, and said with a laugh, “Why does this feel like a formal discussion?”
Ran Lin felt that this partner was not making any conversation easy today. He didn’t hold back and retorted jokingly, “The room is only this big. If you don’t sit on the chair, you can only sit on the carpet.”
Zhang Beichen smiled faintly, his gaze deep and meaningful. “Isn’t there also a bed?”
His tone was light, almost to the point of being flirtatious.
Ran Lin looked up at his backlit face, experiencing a moment of mental blankness.
But then Zhang Beichen sat down, his actions as natural as if the flirtation just now hadn’t come from him.
Well, Ran Lin couldn’t be sure if it was flirtation, considering he had just let his imagination run wild not long ago. Maybe he was still in a cycle of overinterpretation.
Lost in thought, Ran Lin suddenly felt something pushed into his hand—a square box, its edges pressing into his palm.
He looked down, almost thinking he had traveled back in time.
The box was exactly like the one he had opened not long ago, only twice as big.
Confused, he looked up. Zhang Beichen was smiling gently.
“For you,” he said.
Ran Lin suddenly really wanted to go back and see his own expression when sniffing the perfume paper; otherwise, why would one after another send him perfume?
No, the one from Lu Yiyao was a freebie. If the store hadn’t had that promotion, Ran Lin doubted Lu Yiyao would have bought one to give him.
But the bottle from Zhang Beichen was genuinely bought at full price.
“Well, actually, I’m quite indifferent to perfumes. I was just curious, so I smelled it a bit more…”
Without reason, Ran Lin reflexively headed down the path of refusal. This was different from accepting something from Lu Yiyao, which was given casually and received easily. As for the subsequent fantasies, they were purely personal, harmless behind closed doors. But facing Zhang Beichen, he felt a strange pressure.
“You better not say you want to return it.” Zhang Beichen looked hurt; his expression measured, not overly dramatic, but with a tinge of intimacy. “I bought two bottles. If you don’t take it, I can only keep it.”
Ran Lin was stuck.
The gift wasn’t that expensive, but pushing it further would seem awkward. Yet accepting it made him genuinely uncomfortable. Compared to Lu Yiyao’s freebie, this one felt too obliging!
“Try it.” Zhang Beichen, seeing his hesitation, added softly, “I like this scent too.”
The air in the room grew ambiguous with Zhang Beichen’s murmured suggestion.
Ran Lin pursed his lips, no longer hesitating, and firmly pushed the perfume back to the giver, his voice gentle but tone decidedly firm. “I actually don’t like this scent.”
Zhang Beichen frowned briefly but quickly regained composure, sighing softly while looking at the returned gift. “Some things lose their meaning when said out loud. It’s better left unsaid.”
Ran Lin’s heart skipped a beat, looking steadily at Zhang Beichen, trying to maintain a calm façade, but his eyes betrayed his panic.
Zhang Beichen put down the perfume, seemingly realizing Ran Lin’s resistance, and his smile returned to its usual gentle brightness. But his words became more transparent. “The first time I saw you, I knew.”
Ran Lin was at a loss for words.
To deny? Even he felt it was self-contradictory.
To admit? Facing Zhang Beichen, who exuded such a dangerous aura, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
The only thing Ran Lin was sure of was that his gaydar needed fixing. It blared warnings for the straight Lu Yiyao and remained silent for fellow member Zhang Beichen. Could it get any worse?
In the delicate silence, Zhang Beichen suddenly leaned forward, locking eyes with Ran Lin at an extremely close distance. His eyes sparkled with amusement; his voice deliberately lowered. “It took me until the fifth episode to find a chance to be alone with you. It was really hard.”
The barely perceptible warmth brushed Ran Lin’s cheek, leaving him rigid, daring not to move. He wanted to say that he was also struggling, having recorded five episodes, none as difficult as this moment.
Zhang Beichen, perhaps misunderstanding his stiffness as an unspoken invitation, gently curved his lips and moved in for a kiss.
Zhang Beichen’s lips were moderately thick and light in color, appearing soft and clean.
But this was an objective appreciation from a purely aesthetic point of view.
If they misbehaved, no matter how beautiful, Ran Lin would still avoid them at all costs…
Bang!
The carpet’s substantial friction was nearly infinite. Ran Lin had intended to scoot back with the chair, but the chair legs didn’t budge, and he, along with the chair, toppled backward to the ground.
Thankfully, the highchair back created some distance between Ran Lin and the floor, and the chair’s soft, thick padding minimized the impact. Other than the shock, Ran Lin was unharmed.
Zhang Beichen was equally startled.
Only when Ran Lin struggled to get up did Zhang Beichen react, immediately standing to help.
Ran Lin didn’t resist, as the instigator should bear full responsibility, and he accepted Zhang Beichen’s help to stand.
But once up, he quickly let go and turned to steady the chair. “I’m not sure how you see me, and you don’t need to explain. Just know that I consider you a friend.”
Zhang Beichen watched Ran Lin’s adorably composed demeanor, determined in his words but struggling with the chair, looking more and more like someone who needed teasing.
“I consider you a friend too.” Zhang Beichen couldn’t help but chuckle. “Your reaction makes it seem like I was proposing to you.”
Ran Lin thought Zhang Beichen had finally come to his senses, grateful beyond words, and turned around to solidify their friendship. But as he turned, he found Zhang Beichen had already moved behind him, and their sudden closeness nearly brought them face-to-face.
Ran Lin instinctively stepped back, but Zhang Beichen naturally moved closer. Before he could take half a step back, Ran Lin bumped into the chair he had just straightened, and due to inertia, he sat down in it.
Zhang Beichen took advantage of the situation to hold both ends of the chair, trapping Ran Lin in it from a higher position.
The ambiguity, initially subtle, became pronounced.
Zhang Beichen gazed at him quietly, his eyes slowly revealing desire as he breathed in and out. “Friends can do many things together. An exotic country, a seaside hotel, such a rare good atmosphere. You’re happy, I’m happy; it’s not that complicated.”
Ran Lin watched Zhang Beichen unblinkingly, finally understanding.
This man was propositioning him…
This realization brought him relief, yet also amusement. Relief that sexual harassment without emotional attachment was easier to deal with, and amusement that he had actually thought Zhang Beichen was about to seriously confess his feelings. He had vastly overestimated his own charm.
Without further courtesy, Ran Lin pushed Zhang Beichen away and stood up.
Though slightly shorter and leaner than Zhang Beichen, Ran Lin still carried a tall and upright stature. He didn’t seem at a disadvantage, especially now that he had sorted out the situation and exuded confidence.
“No hook-ups.” There was no need for euphemisms at this point; Ran Lin was direct.
Zhang Beichen felt the sudden shift in the atmosphere but couldn’t find the reason and could only follow up with, “Why?”
Ran Lin stood tall and firm, his refusal complete. “I’m straight.”
Zhang Beichen paused for two seconds and then laughed heartily, without any reservations.
Ran Lin let him laugh, as sticking to this identity was the right choice. After all, if his radar could malfunction, why couldn’t Zhang Beichen’s? There’s no concrete evidence in these matters; it’s all about how the individuals define it.
Zhang Beichen gradually contained his laughter, his tone revealing undisguised disappointment. “Do I really have no charm?”
Ran Lin breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that Zhang Beichen was backing down.
He didn’t feel attracted to Zhang Beichen but appreciated his “unclingy” approach. If the proposition was accepted, both would be happy; if not, they’d return to a normal distance. Not everyone could be so straightforward.
But it also indicated that Zhang Beichen was experienced.
There’s never a shortage of like-minded people in the entertainment industry, and Ran Lin suddenly became very curious about who Zhang Beichen had approached before…
“It seems like a difficult question to answer.” Zhang Beichen suddenly sighed weakly.
Ran Lin blinked, quickly regaining his composure, and offered a belated answer. “Who said you have no charm? You’re handsome, charming, and especially sunny when you smile… but I’m straight.”
Zhang Beichen watched him with a mix of annoyance and amusement for a long time, finally giving up.
People who play hard to get can be pursued persistently, but there’s nothing one can do with someone blatantly lying.
“Fine, be straight. But you should keep this,” Zhang Beichen said, referring to the perfume still on the table, “as a thank you for your guidance in the recording studio.”
“It’s been so long since then.” Ran Lin chuckled. “Besides, you already thanked me then. If I remember correctly, you even treated us to a lavish working meal.”
Zhang Beichen smiled, his eyes lowered, and after a moment, he suddenly asked, “I’ve never stood up for you on Weibo. Are you upset with me?”
Ran Lin didn’t expect this sudden topic but warmed up to Zhang Beichen’s frankness, replying honestly, “Why bring that up? We’ve been together for so long; you know what kind of person I am. It’s enough that you consider me a friend. It doesn’t always have to be shown off.”
Zhang Beichen watched him silently for a long time, then said, “Has anyone ever told you you’re very gentle?”
Ran Lin grinned. “Someone once told me I’m particularly timid.”
Zhang Beichen shook his head. “You’re not timid. You’re soft but firm.”
Ran Lin felt awkward, finding the phrase somewhat strange…
“By the way.” Zhang Beichen suddenly remembered something. “I saw your debut photo the other day, the one in the white shirt. You looked incredibly beautiful.”
Ran Lin felt overwhelmed by the compliments he had received that night and joked, “That compliment should be for Xia Xinran.”
“Not giving it.” Zhang Beichen refused readily. “Even if I did, he wouldn’t appreciate it.”
Ran Lin pondered for a moment, then decided to ask frankly, “What exactly did you do to him?”
Zhang Beichen looked exasperated. “That’s the problem. I never did anything to him. We debuted together, from the same company, with different positions and no competition in our paths. There’s even no intersection between us. If you insist on a reason, I can only say our stars are not aligned, and it’s his one-sided incompatibility with me.”
Ran Lin was bewildered, not expecting it to be an unsolved mystery. As he thought about analyzing further, Zhang Beichen suddenly sniffed the air, puzzled. “Do you smell perfume?”
Ran Lin tensed up, fearing Zhang Beichen would discover the truth. Although he didn’t know why he felt the need to hide the fact that Lu Yiyao gave him perfume, his mouth moved faster than his brain, and he lied, “Oh, I tried it at the counter. Maybe the scent lingered on me.”
Zhang Beichen tilted his head, then leaned in to smell Ran Lin’s neck as accurately as a drug-sniffing dog.
Ran Lin was about to push him away for the second time, but Zhang Beichen beat him to it, pulling back and announcing his findings. “Indeed, it’s the same scent.”
Ran Lin rolled his eyes helplessly. “Why would I lie to you?”
Zhang Beichen nodded, appearing casual. “Lu Yiyao’s freebie was also this one.”
Ran Lin’s heart skipped a beat, but he responded naturally, “Oh, seems like it.”
“No wonder you didn’t accept it. This scent is indeed too common,” Zhang Beichen said, taking the perfume back into his possession, indicating he no longer intended to give it.
Ran Lin was pleased with this outcome but couldn’t help but argue. “Being popular doesn’t necessarily mean it’s bad. It shows that its scent is indeed well-liked.”
“But being popular means it’s not special.” Zhang Beichen put the perfume back in his pocket, his smile brightening. “Next time, I’ll give you something different.”
Ran Lin felt perplexed, about to dissuade Zhang Beichen, but the doorbell rang again.
Ran Lin suspected there must be a “welcoming” sign hanging outside his room.
The door opened to reveal Lu Yiyao standing outside. As soon as he saw the door open, he said directly, “Xia Xinran wants to go for late-night snacks and a night tour of the Dubai River…” He paused mid-sentence, stunned, because through Ran Lin, he could see another person inside the room.
Zhang Beichen smiled at Lu Yiyao. “Sounds good.”
Lu Yiyao was a bit confused, glancing inside the room and then back at the door. “What’s going on with you two…”
“We thought of going together,” Zhang Beichen answered naturally before Ran Lin could think of an appropriate response. “We were also discussing where to go for late-night snacks.”
Lu Yiyao suddenly understood. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go together. I heard the buffet on the night cruise is great, full of local specialties.”
Ran Lin wasn’t surprised by Lu Yiyao’s gullibility. Under normal circumstances, anyone would have thought the same. What truly surprised him was Zhang Beichen’s quick response. It was almost immediate, as if they had rehearsed it. If Ran Lin didn’t know the truth, he might have believed it too.
It was an instinctive protective mechanism that required no thought.
Ran Lin suddenly remembered his failed radar detection on Zhang Beichen, perhaps due to this.
It wasn’t that his radar was malfunctioning, but that Zhang Beichen was too well-hidden.
Perhaps in this circle, self-protection is the primary condition for survival. With this thought, Ran Lin felt relieved.
“Then I’ll go back and change clothes. Shall we meet in ten minutes?” Zhang Beichen asked Lu Yiyao, stepping past Ran Lin.
“Sure,” Lu Yiyao agreed readily. “I’ll go tell Xia Xinran and Gu Jie. See you in the lobby downstairs.”
After watching Zhang Beichen leave, only Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao remained, staring at each other.
“Are you going to change clothes too?” Lu Yiyao asked.
“Oh, I don’t need to,” Ran Lin replied. “Just need my phone and wallet.”
Lu Yiyao was relieved. It was just a late-night snack, not a rush to a show, so there was nothing to fuss over.
Back in his room, Zhang Beichen changed into fresher clothes and adjusted his hair in the mirror until he was satisfied. Just as he was about to leave, he returned, took the ungiven perfume from the clothes he had just changed out of, looked at it quietly for two seconds with a self-mocking smile on his lips, and then threw it in the trash.
The trash can was empty, and the perfume bottle landed with a thud.
……
The Dubai River meanders inward, dividing Dubai into two halves. The east side is Deira, the west is Bur Dubai. Traveling on an Arabian-style wooden boat on the river, the colorful lights on both sides were like a scene from “One Thousand and One Nights”.
The buffet on the boat was indeed good. Though it couldn’t completely match the taste nurtured by five thousand years of Chinese cuisine, trying each dish was a delightful experience.
The boat was large, but not very crowded. Besides them, there was only a table of Westerners and a few Indians. After some simple conversation with Lu Yiyao, it was learned that they were working for local construction companies, including designers and project managers, all new to Dubai, and taking the chance to enjoy some tourist fun after work.
On the first day of filming the task, Ran Lin heard Lu Yiyao speaking English with a pure British accent, precise and particular, but to Ran Lin, it sounded incredibly sexy. He realized for the first time that the same person speaking different languages could make such a big difference. In Chinese, Lu Yiyao seemed upright and reliable; in English, he exuded a restrained sensuality.
However, the tasks later became so draining that, by the end of the day’s filming, all he wanted to do was go to bed and sleep. Even if ten Lu Yiyaos surrounded him speaking English, it wouldn’t be more pleasant than the company of the mythical Duke of Zhou in his dreams.
The dining area was on the deck, but food was served inside the cabin, allowing guests to enjoy the view while eating without being surrounded by the mixed scents of food.
As the boat drifted leisurely on the river, Ran Lin finished his plate and got up to get seconds, only to find Xia Xinran also heading to the cabin.
“Lu Yiyao said when he went to find you, and Zhang Beichen was there too?”
Ran Lin knew Xia Xinran wanted to talk. His suspicious glances on the deck were a giveaway. As expected, as soon as they entered the cabin, Xia Xinran began.
The boat suddenly rocked, and Ran Lin quickly steadied himself against the long table with the dishes, preventing a fall.
Xia Xinran was also startled, his eyes wide.
Seeing those big eyes, Ran Lin suddenly remembered his message on WeChat: “You’re not gay too, are you?”
The question that had been troubling Ran Lin was finally answered in that sway—the “too” Xia Xinran referred to was Zhang Beichen!
“You two really got together?!” Xia Xinran, taking Ran Lin’s silence as affirmation, instantly looked like it was the end of the world.
Ran Lin wanted to cover his mouth, afraid that any gesture would seem even more incriminating. He could only whisper urgently, “No, we didn’t! He just came to have late-night snacks with me!”
Ran Lin didn’t want to lie to Xia Xinran, but saying Zhang Beichen came for a hookup would be even harder to explain.
Xia Xinran clearly didn’t believe the late-night snack excuse and leaned in close, their noses almost touching, his expression unusually deep and serious. “There are no eternal secrets in this circle. What’s done is done and will eventually be exposed.”
Ran Lin felt like crying, realizing how hard it was to defend his innocence.
At the same time, he found Xia Xinran’s way of speaking strange, like a reminder to himself or a warning to someone else through him.
“We haven’t done anything.” Ran Lin clarified. “I just see him as a friend.”
Xia Xinran narrowed his eyes, scanning him up and down.
Ran Lin felt the sadness of being forced into a corner. He sighed, speaking with utmost sincerity, “Really, trust me.”
“Alright, I’ll trust you this time,” Xia Xinran conceded.
Ran Lin wanted to set off fireworks in celebration.
“But I’m also serious,” Xia Xinran said somberly. “If you want to survive and thrive in this circle, you can’t always follow your impulses.”
Ran Lin laughed. “That coming from you… feels a bit off.”
Xia Xinran pouted, his face expressing woe. “I endure even when it’s a matter of life and death. Shouldn’t I indulge myself when I can?”
Xia Xinran complained in a way that was quite amusing.
Yet, Ran Lin could hear the helplessness in it.
However, once immersed in the food, Xia Xinran’s sorrows seemed to drift away with the Dubai River. Ran Lin waited left and right and seeing that the other party had no intention of stopping, he decided to take his own plate and return to the deck.
Only two people were left at the dining table.
Ran Lin returned to his seat and asked Lu Yiyao beside him, “Where’s Zhang Beichen?”
Lu Yiyao had just opened his mouth to respond when Gu Jie from across the table already answered, “He went to the bow to enjoy the breeze.”
“Oh,” Ran Lin acknowledged, and he didn’t inquire further.
However, Lu Yiyao kept looking at him, and his body was moving increasingly closer. Their seats were already next to each other, and with just a slight lean from Lu Yiyao, their shoulders would touch. But now, not only did their shoulders touch, Lu Yiyao’s head also leaned closer to him, sniffing around like a large dog.
Ran Lin was so scared that he didn’t dare to move.
Lu Yiyao sniffed confidently and retreated decisively after getting the answer he wanted. He sat back properly and said earnestly, “Just like the salesperson said, the middle note smells better than the top note—it’s fresher.”
Ran Lin: “…”
A statement that could have led to endless speculation, yet when it came from Lu Yiyao, it was filled with uprightness!
How he hoped Lu Yiyao could be like Zhang Beichen, flirting blatantly and sincerely…
No, wait.
Ran Lin held his forehead, realizing that such thoughts were dangerous, my friend!
Lu Yiyao looked at Ran Lin’s changing expressions, completely clueless.
Gu Jie also watched the inexplicable atmosphere between the two across the table, feeling that he should join Zhang Beichen and enjoy the breeze instead.
……
The third episode of <National First Love Drifting Story> arrived as scheduled the weekend after everyone returned from Dubai.
The initial shock brought tears, but as the excitement gradually subsided, warmth began to fill him.
Ran Lin hugged his phone, lying on the bed, and smiled foolishly for half an hour. He meticulously went through the screenshots again from start to finish, feeling incredibly fulfilled and empowered.
If the sky were to fall at that moment, he felt he could be the first to rush out to evacuate the crowd, standing there ready to hold up the sky.
[Received all the screenshots. Thank you, really.]
Ran Lin looked at the reply he had painstakingly crafted and sent, feeling inexplicably annoyed at himself for sounding like a primary schooler.
He had so much gratitude in his heart, wanted to hug Lu Yiyao and weep in a whirlwind of emotions, but when it came to typing it out, it became a back-and-forth of deleting and retyping, ending up as this awkward message.
Still not right.
Too stiff!
Ran Lin sat up abruptly, ruffling his hair in frustration, and finally, with unprecedented seriousness and care, he carefully typed a second message—
[Also, the mosaic was really bold🤭]
After sending it, Ran Lin felt much more satisfied, contentedly lying down and turning on the WeChat notification sound, staring at the ceiling while waiting for a reply from his friend.
Ran Lin waited for an hour.
There was no response from the other side.
He then realized that, given Lu Yiyao’s workload, he was probably rushing to another appointment, and his phone was likely left with his agent or assistant, not with him.
However, considering Lu Yiyao had sent those pictures at three in the morning the day before, if he was working now, had he even slept at all?
After a wild bout of speculations, Ran Lin could only hope that Lu Yiyao wasn’t working and was just sleeping in after a late night.
Hengdian Film & Television Studios, Qin Palace.
In the gloomy light, the suddenly aged Lu Yiyao, dressed in a black robe with crossed collars and a belt at the waist, adorned with gold patterns on the neckline and wide sleeves, was silent, just quietly gazing at the low table on the ground, as if reminiscing about the man who used to sit there and debate statecraft with him but was ultimately executed by himself. They had known each other for half a lifetime, both as sovereign and subject and as close friends, yet in the end, they couldn’t end well.
Never mind, he had killed too many people. In the face of his great cause, this was neither the first nor the last.
The camera gradually zoomed out, showing Lu Yiyao walking alone up the steps, slowly moving towards the depths of the palace garden, leaving only a dark and desolate silhouette behind…
“OK, pass!” The director, watching the monitor, finally said with satisfaction.
Lu Yiyao stopped, and his tense nerves finally relaxed. The old-age makeup made him quite uncomfortable. Fortunately, the last shot was zoomed out, and only his back was filmed. Otherwise, his micro-expressions might have caused the director to retake the shot.
With this shot, Lu Yiyao had completed all five of his scenes.
Today, four of the scenes were solo shots, and only one was with another actor. However, the lead male actor, citing scheduling conflicts, didn’t make it, so the director had no choice but to use a stand-in, focusing the camera solely on Lu Yiyao.
Lu Yiyao was only a secondary character in this movie. When he accepted the script, <Yun Zhang> had just finished airing, and <Beihai Tree> hadn’t been released yet. His most prominent role on the big screen was still the third male lead in a campus youth film he debuted in. No one knew if the popularity on the small screen could truly translate to box office appeal on the big screen, especially with the artistic nature of <Beihai Tree>. His agency was eager for him to take on a real commercial blockbuster.
So even as a secondary character, Lu Yiyao and his team still took it very seriously.
The movie had wrapped up filming at the end of the previous year. Afterward, Lu Yiyao started filming the reality show until early February, when the director personally called to discuss reshooting some scenes.
Lu Yiyao could have refused, as per the contract, he had completed the agreed content within the stipulated work period. This reshoot wasn’t in the script, but he also understood the director’s pursuit of perfection, so he still managed to free up a day from his schedule for the reshoot.
The director reviewed the reshoot content to ensure there were no errors, then stood up from behind the monitor and walked over to Lu Yiyao.
This director was actually quite renowned in the industry, having made several award-winning films in his early years. But as movies became more entertainment-oriented and the audience younger in recent years, he had to start compromising with capital, transitioning towards commercial filmmaking. However, artistic preferences and thought processes aren’t developed overnight, and this transition was quite challenging, leading him into a strange cycle of critical acclaim but box office failure.
But Lu Yiyao respected him greatly because the director respected all actors, never abused his seniority, and was meticulous and serious at work. To put it in an exaggerated way, when the director was focused in front of the monitor, Lu Yiyao felt like he could see the man burning with passion—burning his life and effort for his artistic pursuits.
Lu Yiyao envied such intense and pure dedication.
“It’s been tough.” The director patted his back, both relieved and grateful. “Especially coming all this way, it must have been hard to coordinate your schedule.”
“It’s nothing.” Lu Yiyao downplayed it, not dwelling on these issues. “This is naturally my duty. It’s the job I chose*.”
*Bowl of rice. It’s a colloquialism referring to one’s livelihood or profession in a particular field. When someone says they are “eating this bowl of rice” (as in this case), it means they are implying they are dedicated to their profession and take it seriously.
The director seemed surprised by his response, pondering for a few seconds, then suddenly pulled him to a corner. “Let me talk to you about acting.”
Lu Yiyao was puzzled, not knowing why the director wanted to talk about acting when the lighting and photography crew were already packing up their equipment.
Soon, the director led him to a relatively quiet corner. Crew members were still bustling around, but everyone was busy wrapping up, and no one paid attention to the director and actor having a heart-to-heart.
“I admire your work attitude, so I’ll be straightforward with you. Don’t mind my directness.” The director looked at him as if he were a junior, with a bit of kindness but more expectations. “Having the right attitude is good, but your acting skills indeed need more polishing.”
Lu Yiyao didn’t expect to receive such a comment. Throughout the filming process, the director often suggested, “You can try feeling like this,” and then would elaborate on the character, conflicts, and body language.
However, he had never directly told any actor that their performance wasn’t good. Even for those performances Lu Yiyao himself could tell weren’t up to par, the director was incredibly patient. Lu Yiyao had thought this was just the director’s temperament, but now it seemed more like he was considering the actors’ emotions, as criticism wouldn’t solve problems and might instead hinder progress.
Seeing Lu Yiyao didn’t react negatively, the director opened up and kept speaking. “Acting, for some, relies on perseverance, for others on aura—some on experience, and others on their looks…”
“Those who rely on perseverance push themselves into their roles. They don’t stop until they feel like they’ve gone mad. This is the most admirable; those who rely on aura shine brightly with roles that resonate with them but falter with those that don’t. Such actors are lucky. As long as they find the right role, they can achieve astonishing effects with little effort. But aura is very fleeting; I won’t say much about those who rely on experience, as they are the most common. Their performances are formulaic, mediocre, and their brilliance depends entirely on the script. As for those who rely on looks, I’ll be frank; don’t take offense, but young actors like you in the industry nowadays are mostly about their looks. The audience can’t remember your characters, only the actors themselves, and that’s not good…”
Seeing Lu Yiyao remain silent, the director suddenly laughed self-deprecatingly. “Do you think my old-fashioned ideas are outdated…”
“No.” Lu Yiyao had listened intently. “I’ll seriously consider what you said.”
The director nodded with satisfaction. “I appreciate your attitude towards acting—serious and professional—but it’s not enough love.” He paused, looking at the busy crew members, watching them slowly clear the once fully decorated palace, leaving behind an empty shell. “There’s no passion for acting in your eyes. If you can’t fall in love with this line of work, you’ll always be just a star.”
“Of course,” the director’s gaze returned to Lu Yiyao, “If that’s what you’re aiming for, then ignore what I just said.”
Lu Yiyao moved his lips as if to speak but didn’t know what to say. Someone called the director, who responded and patted Lu Yiyao’s shoulder one last time before leaving without saying more.
Lu Yiyao stood still, deep in thought.
Not enough love.
What does it take to truly love it?
“Lu Ge—”
Li Tong’s lively voice brought Lu Yiyao back. He looked up to see his assistant and Yao Hong coming over. They had been on set during the reshoot, and if the director hadn’t spoken to him, they probably would have come over sooner.
“Yao Jie.” Lu Yiyao greeted his agent.
“Mm.” Yao Hong didn’t say much, only, “Hurry up and remove your makeup. The car is waiting outside.”
Lu Yiyao nodded and quickly went into the makeup room.
Soon after, Lu Yiyao emerged from the past and returned to the present. He said goodbye to the director and crew and left the film base. His schedule was tight, and his cooperation was appreciated; everyone understood the rush.
Inside the car, Lu Yiyao finally breathed a sigh of relief.
The astute assistant immediately offered coffee and a phone. Lu Yiyao set the coffee aside and unlocked his phone. Sure enough, there was an unread message notification on the green app icon.
Lu Yiyao’s lips unconsciously curled up as he opened the message, but then he heard Yao Hong ask, “What did the director talk to you about just now?”
Suppressing his curiosity, Lu Yiyao put down his phone and answered seriously, “He gave me some advice on acting. Quite enlightening.”
Yao Hong seemed relieved and satisfied. “It seems he likes you.”
Lu Yiyao thought about it and cautiously said, “Should be okay.”
“Mm.” Yao Hong said with significance, “You don’t lack popularity now. What you need is to accumulate works and reputation. Popularity can’t support you forever. Steady progress is key for longevity.”
Lu Yiyao looked at his agent earnestly, nodding in an “I really get it” way.
Yao Hong met his gaze, and seeing no intention to continue the conversation, finally said, “Alright, that’s all too far ahead. Just rest for now.”
Lu Yiyao watched Yao Hong settle back, leaving only the back of her head, and then relaxed into the seat, picking up his phone again.
The screen had already turned off.
Lu Yiyao unlocked it, and the WeChat interface he had opened earlier reappeared, showing “2” on Ran Lin’s icon.
[Received all the screenshots. Thank you, really.]
[Also, the mosaic was really bold🤭]
Lu Yiyao looked at the two messages from a few hours ago and then opened one of his own sent screenshots. The mosaic was indeed startling. Lu Yiyao blushed, surprised by his own hasty work from the night before, which didn’t seem so rough at the time. However, Ran Lin’s emoji response was lively; Lu Yiyao could almost see him covering his mouth, laughing.
[Please don’t focus on details other than the message.]
After sending this somewhat dry response, Lu Yiyao didn’t know why he felt so pleased—just inexplicably happy.
The reply came quickly, almost instantly—[Were you busy just now?]
[In Hengdian, reshooting some scenes.]
[Chaos in Qin Palace?]
[You know?]
[After all, I was your diehard fan. 😂]
[Not anymore?]
[I thought I had already successfully ascended. 😲]
Lu Yiyao looked at the little emoticon with hands on its face, wishing he could reach in and knock on it.
[Yes, you can put down your light sign now. Friend.]
“Who are you chatting with?” The continuous WeChat notifications were hard for Yao Hong to ignore, especially with the suspicious and dangerous smile on Lu Yiyao’s face.
Lu Yiyao instinctively put down his phone, vaguely saying, “A friend.”
As soon as he finished speaking, his phone dinged again.
But he couldn’t check it now, as Yao Hong clearly wasn’t satisfied with that answer—
“Someone from the industry?”
“Mm.”
“A girl?”
“A guy.”
Yao Hong finally relaxed, not because she was against Lu Yiyao dating, but because it was indeed not the right time at this stage of his career. Seeing his agent finally at ease, Lu Yiyao was satisfied with his response, waiting for her to turn away so he could continue chatting with his friend. However, she kept looking at him with increasingly furrowed brows…
“Who is it? A man… who?”
Lu Yiyao sighed, knowing evasion was futile. Yao Hong had a keen eye and probably realized he was reluctant to share. But he didn’t like lying, so when pressed, he had no choice but to tell the truth. “Ran Lin.”
Yao Hong’s expression changed subtly. It wasn’t anger, but certainly not happiness either; more like unexpected surprise, then slowly, a layer of disapproval surfaced. “Have you forgotten how you met him and how he used that for publicity?”
Her tone wasn’t harsh, but her stance was clear.
Lu Yiyao pondered for a moment before calmly responding, “Since the reality show started, he hasn’t used me for publicity anymore.”
“That’s because it’s already been overdone. He knows continuing would only result in backlash from your fans.” Yao Hong sighed, not so much criticizing as hoping to reason with her artist. “And even if he’s stopped now, can we just ignore what he did before?”
“He has already apologized for what he did before.”
“If apologies were enough, there wouldn’t be so many broken friendships in the circle.” Yao Hong looked helplessly at her naively optimistic charge. “And besides, you were never even friends to begin with.”
“We are now.” Lu Yiyao, after much deliberation, revealed this harsh truth to his agent.
Yao Hong was stunned, not just by the development of their relationship but also because this was the first time Lu Yiyao had acknowledged a friend in the industry.
In almost four years with him, she had seen him transition from a nobody to a star, working with countless artists. But whenever asked about these people, Lu Yiyao would at most say, “Yeah, quite familiar.” He never once said, “This person is my friend.”
She had thought Lu Yiyao simply didn’t plan to make friends in the industry.
“What kind of magic potion has Ran Lin fed you…” Yao Hong, unable to fathom the situation, resorted to a light-hearted remark.
Lu Yiyao tilted his head, pondering. “It is strange. But I do find him easy to get along with and comfortable to be around.”
“As long as you’re happy.” Yao Hong knew she couldn’t persuade him otherwise. “But remember, always be cautious, no matter the situation.”
Lu Yiyao appreciated his manager’s concern. “I understand.”
Yao Hong leaned back in her seat, rubbing her temples. The child was grown and beyond her control; she could only watch over him as best as she could. Li Tong, who had been eavesdropping for gossip, had been ready to give up when Lu Yiyao said, “a guy.”
But after listening to the whole conversation and seeing Lu Yiyao happily continue his chat, he felt something was off. He really wanted to hold a mirror up to his boss. With such a tender expression, one could believe he was chatting with a mistress.
What does it feel like to be friends with Lu Yiyao?
Ran Lin couldn’t describe it but seeing the word “friend” in Lu Yiyao’s message, he felt like running laps.
And that’s precisely what he did, though not downstairs but in the gym.
The personal trainer, seeing Ran Lin exercise so vigorously for the first time, didn’t need to push him. Changing into workout clothes, Ran Lin started running like a man possessed on the treadmill. The trainer, concerned, slightly slowed the pace for him and couldn’t resist asking, “Encountered some good news? You seem so excited.”
Running hard, Ran Lin still managed to laugh radiantly. “I made a really good friend today!”
The trainer nodded and then let it go.
How hard is it to make a friend? Going to grab a bunch of skewers can earn you a bunch. But thinking again, he seemed to understand. The world of celebrities is always more complex than that of ordinary people.
Just a few days after establishing their friendship, the fifth episode’s recording began. Ran Lin had always felt this reality show nearly filled his life. Recording ended just days before airing, and soon after watching, they were back to recording. Every day, he had to think about the show—his performance, audience reactions, teammates’ attitudes—so much that his head ached. The pressure was relentless.
But this time, for some reason, he almost looked forward to the filming, especially seeing his companions at the airport. His body suddenly felt light, as if stepping on a cloud.
He and Lu Yiyao didn’t mention the screenshots again because they had already discussed everything on WeChat, even unrelated topics. So when they met again, they just greeted each other naturally, without further conversation.
But Xia Xinran keenly sensed a subtle change between the two and directly asked if they had been meeting privately when not recording the show. Before receiving an answer, they were rushed to board the plane, and then the matter was forgotten.
The theme of the fifth episode was “Desert First Love”, and the program group, with typical ruthlessness, took them to Dubai.
Of course, this was known when signing the contract—eight episodes in total, the first four in China, the last four abroad, with different filming periods: two days in China, three days abroad.
Wild camels in the yellow desert, skyscrapers that settled along the blue bay, desert and ocean, primitive and modern, intertwined to form a postcard of the United Arab Emirates.
The originally planned three-day filming ended in just two and a half days due to coordination issues at the last location, and since there was enough footage, the director decisively called an early wrap.
But with plane tickets and hotel bookings scheduled for an early departure the next day, and with so many people in the program group, changing plans was a hassle. So the director simply gave everyone half a day off for free time.
The five companions were utterly bewildered by this sudden holiday. Seeing most of the program crew heading towards shopping, they followed their seniors’ lead and headed straight to—Dubai Mall!
Dubai Mall, the largest shopping center in the world. Basically, any luxury item you can think of, you’ll find here, and even those you can’t imagine. The first thing that catches your eye as you enter is a gigantic aquarium, reminiscent of an oceanarium, with sharks swimming inside, declaring the mall’s grandeur. As you wander, you’ll also encounter an ice rink.
Maintaining an ice rink in a desert region requires an unknown amount of human, material, and financial resources. It’s just like the lush green trees outside, sustained by unimaginable costs.
But people entering the mall don’t care about these things; shopping is their main focus.
For five male celebrities, it was a rare chance to experience freedom and joy. Nobody cared who they were; even if compatriots passed by, most were uninterested and busy with their tour groups. Occasionally, some young fans excitedly asked for an autograph or a quick chat before leaving.
Xia Xinran was overjoyed, restrained only by his agent, or else he’d be broke by the end of the year. In contrast, Gu Jie and Zhang Beichen were more practical, selecting only useful items and gifts for relatives and friends.
But even Xia Xinran’s extravagance paled in comparison to Lu Yiyao. He bought two Hermès and two Chanel women’s bags, two Chopard women’s watches, and four bottles of different brands of women’s perfume, among other miscellaneous items. The amount spent was staggering, especially since he bought everything in pairs.
“You’re too good to your girlfriend,” Xia Xinran joked, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of purchases.
Lu Yiyao just smiled noncommittally. Ran Lin didn’t say anything but admired Lu Yiyao’s ability to keep his privacy. His girlfriend could be Nezha, yet Lu Yiyao could still remain tight-lipped.
Wang Xi also joined them this time, buying two Cartier watches, one for men and one for women. Ran Lin was surprised, having never heard of her having a boyfriend, but Wang Xi quickly packed up her purchases without a word, so Ran Lin felt it was inappropriate to pry.
Shopping could inadvertently reveal secrets. So, for “safety”, Ran Lin barely bought anything. He did smell a men’s perfume that Lu Yiyao picked, liked it, but then decided against buying it. Lu Yiyao, who bought four bottles, got to choose a 30ml bottle as a gift and picked the one Ran Lin liked. Ran Lin was pleased, appreciating Lu Yiyao’s taste.
They shop until nightfall, reluctantly ending their shopping spree. Despite the production team’s lavishness, they didn’t stay at the Burj Al Arab Hotel, a regret for Ran Lin.
Back at the hotel, watching Lu Yiyao unpack his spoils, Ran Lin forgot his regret. Their rooms were adjacent and Ran Lin could easily see into Lu Yiyao’s room with the door open.
Entering someone else’s room uninvited was impolite, unless invited—
“Stop sneaking peeks,” Lu Yiyao said while packing, not looking up.
Ran Lin was amazed. “Do you have eyes on the back of your head?”
“Ah, near vermillion you turn red*,” Lu Yiyao replied, continuing his task or reorganization to make room for his new purchases.
*The full idiom is: Those close to vermillion get stained red, those near ink get stained black (近朱者赤，近墨者黑). It refers to the idea that proximity to something (or someone) can influence a person’s character or behavior.
Ran Lin, feeling awkward to sit on the bed, pulled up a chair. “Need help?”
“No need,” Lu Yiyao said, organizing his clothes to the side of his suitcase. “I just don’t want to crease the bags. If they get damaged, the ladies would be upset.”
Ran Lin now understood why Lu Yiyao didn’t want help but was surprised he was mentioning the recipients, considering he avoided such topics during the day.
Lu Yiyao stopped packing and looked up with a resigned expression. “Xia Xinran is nice, but he’s just too lively.”
Ran Lin leaned back in his chair with his chin resting on his arms. “Worried he’ll spill your secrets?”
Lu Yiyao said each word in a deep tone, “Not worried, sure.”
Ran Lin laughed. “Should I close the door? If someone hears, you won’t have peace.”
Lu Yiyao pondered solemnly. “I think you should.”
Ran Lin, unable to suppress a smile, got up to close the door. Just as he shut it, he heard Lu Yiyao say, “I bought these for my mom and sister.”
Ran Lin froze, taking a moment to recover before looking at Lu Yiyao in surprise.
This was the first time Lu Yiyao had spoken about his family. If Ran Lin remembered correctly, Lu Yiyao had always avoided talking about his family or background during filming. Clearly, he didn’t like discussing these matters.
But now, as he mentioned “my mom” and “my sister”, his eyes were uncharacteristically tender.
Unsure how to respond, Ran Lin decided it wasn’t appropriate to probe further. He walked back and sat down, maintaining a natural tone and demeanor. “I guess the Chanel is for your sister?”
Lu Yiyao shook his head.
Ran Lin was surprised. “Then, Hermès?” He wasn’t very familiar with brands, but he thought the Chanel style seemed younger.
Lu Yiyao shook his head again.
Ran Lin had an ominous feeling. “Don’t tell me you got one of each brand for each person.”
Lu Yiyao: “Not the perfumes.”
Ran Lin: “…Right, two brands of perfume for each.”
Lu Yiyao: “Can’t be uneven.”
Ran Lin: “Are you sure you studied in Manchester, England, and not in Confucius’ hometown in Shandong?”
Lu Yiyao was taken aback and blurted out, “That’s my dad’s influence.”
After saying this, his smile faded, as if mentioning it brought an abrupt change in the atmosphere.
Ran Lin disliked sudden silences, feeling a bit panicked, especially since the mood had been so good before…
“I noticed you didn’t buy much.” Lu Yiyao changed the topic, getting busy again.
Ran Lin immediately followed up. “There wasn’t anything special I wanted to buy. If I had to think of something, chances are I wouldn’t like it once I got it. It’d be a waste.”
“That makes sense,” Lu Yiyao said, arranging the bags in his suitcase. He then took the perfumes, placing them in the right spots. The 30ml bottle, however, he didn’t put in the suitcase. Instead, he handed it to Ran Lin. “This is for you.”
Ran Lin didn’t take it immediately, his mouth slightly agape. After a moment, he managed a startled “Ah?”
Lu Yiyao, feeling his arms getting tired, placed the item on the bed within Ran Lin’s reach and continued packing. “Didn’t you like this scent?”
Ran Lin was baffled. “How did you know?”
Lu Yiyao glanced at him. “Your expression when you smelled that perfume strip was the same as when you took a photo with Iron Man.”
Ran Lin was speechless.
Lu Yiyao didn’t think much of it and urged, “Don’t be polite with me. It was just a free gift. I have so many perfumes at home they could be used for bathing. Taking it back would just gather dust.”
With that said, Ran Lin couldn’t refuse anymore and silently reached for the gift. The 30ml perfume box was delicate. Its sharp edges tingled in his palm—a sensation that traveled to his heart and then to his cheeks, warming them.
Ran Lin didn’t understand why his heart was racing. To cover it up, he coughed lightly and mumbled, “Had I known, I wouldn’t have smelled the perfume strip. I should have smelled a Hermès…”
What are the basic principles of human interaction?
Lu Yiyao might not be able to list them all, but respect is certainly one of them. He believes that if respect is coupled with some understanding and tolerance, anyone would be willing to interact with such a person.
Ran Lin was exactly that kind of person.
Of course, this was Lu Yiyao’s subjective judgment. He didn’t impose it on anyone but kept it to himself.
Throughout his life, Lu Yiyao has heard too many such remarks:
“Just try it. You’ll know it’s not that scary.”
“Just accompany me this once. See, I’m not scared.”
“It’s just you we’re missing. Just bite the bullet and do it. Everyone is watching. Don’t you feel embarrassed?”
“If you’re a man, go for it. I don’t believe you’ll really die!”
When he was younger, Lu Yiyao would indeed waver, often embarking on these ventures with shame and guilt. But invariably, the outcomes were terrible enough to be classified as childhood traumas or adolescent nightmares.
At best, it was embarrassing; at worst, it led to breathlessness. Those who previously encouraged him either laughed at his disheveled state or panicked at his near-death experience. Like the time in his freshman year when he was blindfolded and tricked into a Ferris wheel. The prankster had to call an ambulance because Lu Yiyao nearly fainted from lack of oxygen when the Ferris wheel landed.
Compared to roller coasters, the slow climb of a Ferris wheel was more terrifying, like Lingchi*, excruciating but not fatal.
*Also known as death by a thousand cuts, was a form of torture and execution used in China from roughly 900 CE up until the practice ended around the early 1900s. In this form of execution, a knife was used to methodically remove portions of the body over an extended period of time, eventually resulting in death.
After that, no one mocked or pranked him about it again. The British classmate who tricked him into the Ferris wheel was beaten up by Huo Yuntao and didn’t utter a word.
Shaking off these memories, Lu Yiyao looked at Ran Lin, who had fallen asleep as soon as he boarded the plane. His previously cold gaze softened.
When sleeping on the plane alone, Ran Lin could sleep in all sorts of positions. But now, with someone sitting beside him, he slept peacefully and obediently. Occasionally, if his head tilted to the side, he seemed to sense it, vaguely nudging himself awake, straightening his neck, and continuing to sleep.
The sunlight above the clouds was blinding, shining in through the window and making Ran Lin frown in his sleep.
Lu Yiyao tried not to look out the window. He carefully reached over Ran Lin and pulled down the window shade halfway.
The sunlight vanished from Ran Lin’s face, along with the slight frown. Ran Lin’s long eyelashes now cast beautiful shadows on his face in the dim light.
Over two months ago, he thought this person was desperately craving fame, using such low tactics that even becoming a D-list celebrity would be a stroke of luck.
More than two months later, by coincidence, they ended up on the same flight back after a recording, and he found himself inexplicably in a good mood.
In front of Disney’s Tron Lightcycle Power Run, Ran Lin had spent half an hour preparing with him. During those thirty minutes, Ran Lin had every reason to get angry or question him, but he didn’t.
Perhaps Ran Lin didn’t just realize Lu Yiyao’s fear of heights in the thirtieth minute. With his keenness, he might have connected it to the high-altitude bridge and spicy noodles from the first episode and concluded that Lu Yiyao was acrophobic. Yet, he pretended to be oblivious and quietly accompanied him.
Lu Yiyao believed that if he had followed the path Ran Lin laid out, Ran Lin would never have exposed the truth. If the episode was edited by a devilish editor, it might have been portrayed as “Lu Yiyao giving up the task to accompany his teammate to watch the parade.”
Post-production was always unpredictable.
Ran Lin, once tricked, still chose to be considerate of his friend. Only those who have been shown such consideration can understand its value.
Then there was Xia Xinran, Gu Jie, and the others’ loyalty.
Before signing up for this variety show, Lu Yiyao never thought he could make friends on a job. But now, Xia Xinran was snoring in the row behind them, and Gu Jie, who didn’t return to Beijing but flew straight to another job, had shared a selfie of the six of them taken after the recording in their group chat.
All six faces were squeezed into the frame, making it a little distorted.
Less handsome, but more amusing.
When the plane began to descend, Ran Lin woke up. Lu Yiyao remained in the same position, making Ran Lin suspect he hadn’t moved during the entire flight.
The window shade had been opened by a flight attendant, but Ran Lin was unaware. To him, it had always been open, with the clouds looking refreshing and the sun shining brightly.
Most people tense up during a plane landing, especially at the jolt of touchdown, since statistics show that takeoff and landing are the most accident-prone times.
But Lu Yiyao was the opposite.
At the moment of the jarring touchdown, he relaxed completely. Ran Lin, sitting closest, saw it most clearly. Lu Yiyao’s normally erect posture slackened. His back was no longer straight, and even his clenched hands loosened, radiating a sense of “Thank God.”
When Lu Yiyao opened his eyes, he saw Ran Lin’s smiling face.
“What’s up?” Lu Yiyao asked, puzzled.
“Nothing.” Ran Lin shook his head, his eyes still smiling.
Lu Yiyao quickly realized what Ran Lin was laughing at and openly admitted, “I told you, I still get nervous on planes.”
Seeing him so honest, Ran Lin decided to express his true feelings. “I know you’re nervous, but your reaction is different from when facing roller coasters. It’s more… cute?”
Lu Yiyao had no words for this description.
Ran Lin derived sweet joy from teasing a paper tiger.
The joy Ran Lin got from Disney and Tigger continued until the weekend night, when the second episode aired.
Wang Xi, as usual, called him in advance, reminding him to remember to watch the show on time and communicate any issues bi-directionally. However, Lu Yiyao had a feeling—perhaps it was just an illusion—that Wang Xi seemed a bit less stern and gentler than during the first episode.
This uncertain feeling was confirmed after the broadcast of the show.
When Wang Xi called again, she only asked one question. “How was the feeling of recording the third episode compared to the second?”
Ran Lin didn’t know how the final presentation of the third episode would turn out, but regarding the recording, he felt he had a say: “Yes, I think it was better.”
This “better” didn’t just refer to their growing chemistry but also because Lu Yiyao had offered his private villa for the third episode, making the program with surprises even more appealing.
“That’s good.” Wang Xi seemed relieved and mentioned another matter. “This week, several brands contacted us, wanting you to shoot commercials for them. But after some consideration, the company still feels these lesser-known brands are too low-end. Now, the company prefers to find you brands that are younger in their positioning, not necessarily well-known or prestigious, but definitely with a healthy, positive, and sunny image. So, I wanted to discuss this with you first. There’s no rush on this matter. The variety show has only aired two episodes, and more sponsors will approach you in the future.”
Ran Lin was a bit surprised, not expecting the reality show’s effect to manifest so quickly, especially considering his still controversial reputation.
“I’m not in a hurry. I’ll follow the company’s arrangements,” Ran Lin responded calmly and honestly.
Wang Xi was pleased and briefly talked about some fitness and beauty maintenance matters before hanging up.
Ran Lin sat on the couch, blankly watching the commercials on TV.
Coincidentally, just a few seconds into watching, the previous commercial ended, and the next one was the latest one that Lu Yiyao shot for a men’s cosmetics brand. On the screen, Lu Yiyao looked radiant and spirited, his face clean yet sexy, and his peach blossom eyes smiling, charming the camera throughout the commercial.
Ran Lin felt a bit tempted to buy the product.
After the commercial ended, XX Satellite TV began replaying the second episode.
Ran Lin, not feeling sleepy, decided to watch it again.
This time he watched more carefully than the first time, knowing what would happen and how the post-production would edit and subtitle it. Therefore, he was less anxious and expectant and calmer and more detailed.
Surprisingly, the style of the second episode was completely different from the first. The director seemed to have changed his approach, not forcibly creating misunderstandings or selling fan service. The entire program shifted from the pink-bubbled male god style of the first episode to a straightforward and youthful style, shedding the idol baggage. The post-production also appeared rejuvenated, with subtitles and background music leaning towards a passionate and exciting direction, focusing on building a sense of team spirit.
Although the interactions between the five guests still showed politeness and some segments revealed the production team’s lack of consideration, compared to the first episode, there was a noticeable improvement.
Combined with the beauty of Jiuzhaigou and the irresistible charm of the baby pandas, the second episode felt more fluid and natural. Although it didn’t reach the level of hysterical laughter or blood-pumping excitement, it was comfortable enough for casual viewers and delightful for fans.
Of course, there was still conflict.
Even in the most popular variety shows, and even if the guests had become as close as one person, die-hard fans could still find discordant hints to exploit.
But these things didn’t concern Ran Lin.
He was now a happy ostrich, burying his head in the sand, neither seeing nor hearing. Although curious about the outside world, the thought of not just the gentle breeze, bright moon, mountains, and streams but also the raging wars and gunfire was enough to suppress his curiosity.
At the same time, in a certain hotel.
“Lu Ge, if you have another cup of black coffee, you might as well forget about sleeping tonight.” Li Tong held a freshly brewed cup of black coffee, hesitating to put it down on the table, trying to make a last stand.
Lu Yiyao didn’t even glance at him, his eyes still fixed on his phone screen, only tapping the table with his other hand.
Li Tong knew his words fell on deaf ears again. Not bothering to argue further, he just put down the coffee and sat back in the corner to stay awake.
Lu Yiyao took a sip of coffee and seemed to finally remember there was another person in the room. He put down his phone and rubbed his brow lightly. “Don’t worry about me. You can go rest.”
Li Tong muttered under his breath, “No more coffee refills?”
Although he depended on Lu Yiyao for his salary, because Lu Yiyao was usually approachable and good-natured, Li Tong dared to be a bit bold with him occasionally.
As expected, Lu Yiyao wasn’t angry at the teasing and even seriously replied, “I can refill it myself.”
Li Tong was speechless, realizing Lu Yiyao intended to continue drinking coffee.
When work got hectic, Lu Yiyao liked to drink black coffee. If possible, he would carry a simple filter coffee pot and ground coffee in his luggage, which Li Tong knew.
But firstly, Lu Yiyao usually drank coffee in the morning and afternoon, as sleep was the first guarantee of health—one of his life principles. So, unless he was working overnight, he rarely drank coffee in the evening to stay awake. Secondly, Lu Yiyao didn’t have any work that required staying up late today!
They had flown here today to shoot additional scenes for a movie Lu Yiyao had already wrapped up. In fact, a body double could have been used for this scene, but the director had just contacted Lu Yiyao to explain the situation, and he immediately agreed. The reshooting was scheduled for the next day.
This meant that what Lu Yiyao should be doing now was reviewing the scenes for the next day and then resting.
But in reality, he had completed the scene review in the afternoon and spent the entire evening watching the second episode of the variety show he participated in while drinking coffee and scrolling through his phone, seemingly ready to do so all night.
Li Tong, unable to stay up, decided to obediently go to sleep. But as he reached the door, curiosity got the better of him, and he turned back to ask, “Lu Ge, what exactly are you scrolling through?”
Lu Yiyao, who had just picked up his coffee again, took a leisurely sip before realizing the question, looked up at his assistant. “Hm?”
Li Tong sighed and decided to rephrase the question for better understanding. “Lu Ge, you’ve been watching TV and scrolling through your phone all night. Your thumb hasn’t stopped. What exactly are you scrolling through?”
“Oh.” Lu Yiyao finally understood the question, casually putting the coffee back on the table and lifting his phone screen towards his assistant at the door, as if that was enough explanation. “Something meaningful.”
Li Tong: “…”
Unable to see the phone screen clearly or understand the answer, Li Tong stood dazed for a moment, then turned, opened the door, and considerately closed it from the outside for his boss.
……
After watching the rebroadcast and going to sleep, Ran Lin didn’t wake up until nine o’clock the next morning.
The double-layered curtains in the room only blocked one layer of gauze, leaving the heavy fabric curtains parted at the sides. The sunlight easily penetrated through the thin gauze, illuminating the refreshing bedroom.
The first thing he did after getting up was to grab his phone, check the time, look for any missed calls, and finally turn on the data connection and Wi-Fi.
Ran Lin didn’t turn off his phone when sleeping, but he liked to disconnect from all networks. This way, if someone urgently needed to reach him, they would call, and the automatic pop-up messages from apps or communication software wouldn’t disturb his sleep.
Once the data was turned on, he casually clicked on WeChat, thinking that since the show aired last night, Chen Sheng and Wu Guang might have stayed up late discussing it in the group chat.
And he was right.
As soon as he entered the group chat, the delayed messages flooded in due to the network connection. Fortunately, Ran Lin had turned off WeChat notifications, so he quietly watched the messages scroll up, patiently waiting until all eighty-plus discussions appeared, finally stopping at Xia Xinran’s “Going to sleep” and Gu Jie’s “Hurry up”.
Ran Lin scrolled back to the first message and read them one by one.
It started with Xia Xinran at around two in the morning, praising the overall style change of the second episode and then complaining about why it was still awkward even in the second episode. Then Gu Jie jumped in to retort. Later, Lu Yiyao also briefly appeared, but only exchanged a couple of words and then disappeared.
The conversation finally ended with Xia Xinran and Gu Jie’s “goodnight”, timed at 2:59 a.m.
Ran Lin read through the entire conversation with a smile, then exited the chat group and returned to the WeChat list. He suddenly noticed that Lu Yiyao’s avatar had appeared in the recent list, right below the pinned Chen Sheng and Wu Guang group, with a red number “58” in the top right corner.
Ran Lin had never privately chatted with Lu Yiyao outside the group chat after exchanging WeChats. It was already shocking enough that Lu Yiyao sent a one-on-one message, let alone dozens of them. Ran Lin thought it was likely a sleepy mistake made in the middle of the night.
Curiously, he opened it and scrolled to the top. All fifty-eight messages were images, and the thumbnails looked very similar.
But the small images were too blurry, so Ran Lin opened the first one, which was sent at 3:20 a.m.
The clear, full-screen image quickly loaded…
Ran Lin was stunned and took a long time to recover.
They were screenshots of comments from his Weibo, selectively retained through a mosaic effect.
The mosaic was so crude it was almost like an abstract painting, obviously drawn directly with a finger in some software, but the information the creator wanted to preserve was very clear.
The one Ran Lin randomly opened had two comments retained:
Lin’s Little Burning Noodles: [I like the boy who took his friend who couldn’t ride in Yangshuo, the boy who was witty during the quick Q&A on the Li River, the boy who got distracted by the scenery in Jiuzhaigou and had his spoils stolen, the boy who gave the last skewer of Bobo chicken to his friend in Kuanzhai Alley. Ran Lin, I like you, and many others do too. You don’t need to respond to us. Just continue to be happy.]
When Will Beautiful Xia Show Up Again: [What you sow is what you reap. As long as you are guilt-free, there’s nothing to fear from slander. Xiaxia went through the same. You can learn from him 233333*.]
*Internet slang that represents laughter (like lol or hahaha). The number 233 refers to the 233rd emoticon on Baidu Teiba, which depicts a character laughing. Adding extra 3’s to it just extends the laughter (like lololol).
His eyes brimming with tears, Ran Lin quickly closed the image and opened another.
Still Weibo comments:
Gargamel’s* Cat: [Honestly, the show isn’t that great, but the second episode was much better than the first, so I’m still looking forward to the third. Also, I like your awkward yet sincere manner. There’s no need to fake familiarity. Relationships take time to develop 🐱🐱]
*A fictional character and the main antagonist of the Smurfs show and comic books. He is a wizard and the sworn enemy of the Smurfs. His main goals are to destroy the Smurfs, eat them, or transform them into gold.
Kihara’s Family1 Scummy Top2: [Thank God the post-production finally stopped forcing the issue. But why does the passionate second episode feel more heart-fluttering to us old ladies than the romantic first episode? How do you match with everyone? What’s going on?!]
1Referencing the Kihara Family from the anime Toaru Majutsu no Index. 2(渣攻) This is a specific term in Chinese BL that is basically referring to a scum gong/seme/top.
All fifty-eight images.
Lu Yiyao must have sifted through countless comments to select these for him.
[I uninstalled it… If our show turns the tables in the future, you can help me check the comments, haha.]
The joke made in the Disneyland hotel had been taken seriously.
Ran Lin couldn’t imagine how long it must have taken to sift through thousands of negative comments to find these, or how much time it took to blur out upsetting comments, leaving only the ones that would amuse him. He was afraid to think about it, worried that his emotions would become uncontrollable.
No, they were already uncontrollable.
“Nutcase.”
Ran Lin smiled and cursed, wiping away the water stains on the screen.
Keeping the full-screen view, he swiped through each image, not knowing how much time passed until he finally reached the last one.
This image was completely different from the others—not a Weibo comment but a screenshot of a personal memo with only two lines—
[Block out rumors and you might miss encouragement and praise. The above comments are what I found meaningful, and I would like to share my encouragement with you.]
Looking at the last magical part of the sentence, Ran Lin couldn’t help but repeat the curse again—
“You’re such a nutcase!”
Kinky Thoughts:
Seems like he’s crazy about you. But for real though, that’s super sweet and they’re not even together yet.
When the person who first discovered the bomb screamed, Wu Sheng rushed from first class to economy class, passing through business class without a second glance. Only after this division of labor for a second search did he truly enter the business class for the first time.
What a prosperous scene it was.
The sunshades were all open, and the entire cabin was as bright as an office area enclosed by floor-to-ceiling glass. Excluding Kuang Jinxin, there were fifteen passengers in total, all busy at their own seats, either typing on laptops, holding iPads, or deeply focused, muttering to themselves in thought. The rapid keystrokes and the occasional bursts of inspiration like fireworks, visible only to kindred spirits, intertwined into a bustling, thriving scene of diligent endeavor.
Standing at the doorway of the business class, Wu Sheng had one thought: Who could bring him his laptop? He, too, wanted to start working!
Fortunately, Wu Sheng was still able to prioritize. Despite his wishes, after taking a deep breath, he managed to suppress his boiling blood for the sake of his career and stepped forward.
The aisle in business class was wider and more comfortable to walk through than in economy class, with four seats per row, two on each side. No one noticed the “outsider” here; everyone was too absorbed in their work.
According to Kuang Jinxin, the people here had names in a sequential order, starting with Zheng Qi (7), Feng Jiu (9), Chen Yiling (10), Chu Yiyi (11), Wei Yi’Er (12)… all the way to He Eryi (21), Lu Er’er (22). The only skipped number eight was occupied by himself.
This was similar to what Xu Wang had reported: before the bomb crisis, he had chatted with five people, named Yin Yilingling (100), Mu Jiuba (98), He Jiuqi (97), Huang Jiuliu (96), and Ping Jiuwu (95), skipping 99, which was his own seat.
If nothing unusual, Wu Sheng believed that those passengers he hadn’t yet interacted with would also follow this surname and number format, with the number indicating the order from first class down and the surname likely from the Hundred Family Surnames*.
*This is a record of Chinese Han surnames that was written in early Northen Song dynasty.
Zhao, Qian, Sun, Li, Zhou, Wu, Zheng, Wang, Feng, Chen, Chu, Wei, Jiang, Shen, Han, Yang… all the way to He, Mu, Xiao, Yin—the first one hundred surnames. Wu Sheng had memorized them in high school for fun and still remembered them clearly.
He had suspected that the code might be related to the passengers’ names, but given the current situation, it seemed impossible to deduce the connection out of thin air; he’d have to follow the [Cheat Sheet] methodically.
With limited time, Wu Sheng adopted a “one-to-many” and “row-by-row chat” strategy, only to realize upon talking to the first row why Kuang Jinxin had talked to everyone in business class without gaining any useful information.
“Are you a friend of Xiao Kuang?”
“That kid is so likable and knows so much!”
“Right, after listening to him, I kind of want to have tea too.”
After exchanging names, they started talking about tea—Mr. Kuang wasn’t so much “chatting” with people as he was unilaterally “preaching”!
But it wasn’t entirely useless; at least he had converted all three ladies in the first row into “sister fans”, saving Wu Sheng, who struggled with making close connections, a lot of trouble.
While engaging in the casual group chat, Wu Sheng also carefully observed the three people in the first row.
Sitting by the window was Zheng Qi, dressed casually, with a document open on her laptop, seemingly writing an article.
Next to her empty seat was Kuang Jinxin’s.
Beside the aisle was Feng Jiu. Her iPad was lit up with an array of bar and pie charts for analysis.
Next to her, by the window, was Chen Yiling, using a stylus on a Surface to revise and scribble.
Writer, marketer, teacher.
Wu Sheng almost instantly made clear judgments about their occupations.
Their professions didn’t clear them of suspicion, but they did provide more targeted directions for “inquiry”. Wu Sheng smirked, a small gesture he made when he felt confident or triumphant, usually indicating that he had everything under control.
A triple-question attack!
“I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was young, but alas, I abandoned literature for science. Can you talk to me about the article you’re writing?”
“Coincidentally, I’m in marketing. We’re in the same field.”
“Being a teacher must be tough. What do you teach?”
Efficiency was key; what took others three minutes, he could do in one with parallel processing. That was the power of capability!
His rapid-fire questions didn’t annoy the three ladies; rather, they were quite happy to respond.
Zheng Qi: “I’m not a writer; I’m an experience tester. This is about my ‘first time flying experience’.”
Feng Jiu: “I’m in finance. You’re in marketing; where’s the overlap?”
Chen Shi: “This is my son’s essay. The school requires parents to review and revise it first…”
As the saying goes, taking too big a step can lead to pulling your balls*.
*It refers to taking your time to do something step by step, or you can harm yourself. In this case, it’s more of a crude and humorous way of saying it.
Wu Sheng, having perfectly dodged all the correct answers, withdrew his three lines of questioning and sat down in Kuang Jinxin’s seat to rest for half a minute, patting his face lightly before looking up again, ready as a wise youth.
“An experience tester? I’ve never heard of that.” He spoke again, his tone natural as if the previous rebuff had happened to someone else.
“Actually, it should be called ‘first-time experience tester’.” Zheng Qi smiled at him. “I only record the feeling of doing something for the first time. First time flying, first time diving, first time on a train, first time riding a motorcycle, first time eating king crab, first time drinking mojito, first time in love, first time kissing, first time…”
“Okay!” Wu Sheng cut her off in time. As a single male student, being thrown into such a situation was miserable enough; he didn’t want to be force-fed any more dog food*, especially by an NPC. “So this is your first time on a plane?”
*It’s a term referring to witnessing affection between couples.
“Yes, I’ve always been a bit scared. Even though they always say that planes are the safest mode of transportation, if something does happen, there’s no escape.”
“But you came anyway.”
“If you’re going to be an experience tester, you have to have some professional ethics. I hope to provide some useful experiences for friends like me who are afraid of flying.”
Zheng Qi’s expression and attitude were very natural when she spoke; at least Wu Sheng couldn’t find any flaws. Sitting in Kuang Jinxin’s place, actually right next to Zheng Qi, he could glance over and see the text on Zheng Qi’s laptop.
[…It’s different from what I imagined. If you close your eyes, there is no real feeling of flying in the sky. Before the flight, I was afraid of encountering ‘thrills’, but after the flight, I suddenly felt it would have been good if something had really happened. For friends, including myself, who really want to experience flying, maybe]
The cursor was blinking after the word “maybe”. Wu Sheng couldn’t guess what Zheng Qi intended to type next. But the phrase “it would have been good if something really happened” was highly suspicious.
Time was ticking by, and this was only the first person in business class he had spoken with; he was taking too long. With this thought, Wu Sheng simply raised his hand and lightly tapped on the cursor position, asking directly, “Maybe what?”
His voice carried an undisguised suspicion. If Zheng Qi became angry out of embarrassment and confronted him, that would be even better.
However, contrary to his expectations, not only was Zheng Qi not angry, but she was also excited, her eyes shining with “I was waiting for you to ask” excitement. The joy in her eyes made her face glow.
“Dang dang dang dang—” She rhythmically pulled out a large bag from under her seat and presented it to Wu Sheng, eagerly asking, “Guess what this is?”
“A para… Parachute…?” Wu Sheng had played with this in America, but who would skydive from a commercial flight? With the current altitude and air pressure, it was impossible even to open the cabin door!
While he was puzzled, Zheng Qi had already pressed the call button.
The flight attendant quickly came over, smiling kindly. “Hello, can I help you?”
Zheng Qi had already put on the parachute harness and seriously said, “Please open the window; I want to skydive.”
The flight attendant blinked in disbelief, apparently hearing such a request for the first time in her life. Wu Sheng finally reacted, trying his best to laugh. “Stop joking…”
Zheng Qi tilted her head, frowning at him. “I’m not joking. I told you I’m an experience tester. I want to invest my limited life into limitless experiences. I’ve already experienced taking a plane, now I want to fly.”
Wu Sheng: “……”
Xu Wang, Lao Qian, Xiao Kuang, do you have any good suggestions for dealing with a lunatic? Urgent, waiting online!
“Tch. Fine then, I’ll do it myself.” Zheng Qi bent down again and rummaged under the seat, and moments later, she had a cordless drill in her hand.
Wu Sheng was stunned. Is there a portable space under this seat?!
“Ever heard of wall drilling?” Zheng Qi suddenly turned around, drill in hand, and asked.
Wu Sheng reflexively said, “Drilling a wall to borrow light*?”
*(凿壁借光) Idiom referring to praising someone for their perseverance and hard work in pursuit of knowledge or goals. It comes from the story of Kuang Heng, who was very poor and couldn’t afford a candle to study at night, so he drilled a hole into the wall to borrow light from his neighbor’s house to continue his studies.
Zheng Qi smiled. “Drilling a hole to break the windows.”
[When you sense something is wrong, end the conversation and don’t linger—]
Once there was a sincere reminder ringing in his ears, he didn’t appreciate it!!!
“Zzzzzz—”
The drill bit made intimate contact with the plane window, emitting a “passionately” loud noise.
Wu Sheng grabbed her wrist in one motion, not caring about being gentlemanly anymore, forcefully taking the drill away and turning it off, breaking into a cold sweat.
Zheng Qi looked dissatisfied and was about to speak, but Wu Sheng was quicker. “Your experience feeling isn’t comprehensive!”
At those words, she froze, no longer attempting to grab the drill back, and retorted, “What right do you have to say that!”
You can insult my character, but you can’t insult my work—every aspiring youth has this problem. Wu Sheng didn’t need to understand Zheng Qi; understanding himself was enough, hitting the nail on the head.
“You only have a sensory experience but lack theoretical support.” Wu Sheng handed the drill to the flight attendant to take to a safe place, then continued, “You say the flying experience on a plane isn’t good, but what specifically isn’t good? Cabin pressure, temperature, meals, and the psychological and physiological impact of a confined space all affect the overall flying experience. Did you consider these?”
Zheng Qi: “I…”
Wu Sheng: “How high is the plane flying now? Seven to twelve thousand meters. If you jump from this height, you’d become an ice corpse. What’s the cabin pressure now? Standard atmospheric pressure is 101.325 kPa, equivalent to about two thousand meters above sea level. Do the math yourself. If I have to remind you again, your experience note will have to include my co-authorship.”
Zheng Qi: “You…”
Wu Sheng: “Remember, anyone can have feelings; anyone can call a couple of sentences ‘experience’. To stand out, solid data support is your core competitiveness.” He patted her shoulder. “Go on, write it. When you’re done, call me, and we’ll discuss drilling the window open.”
Zheng Qi closed her mouth, unable to retort.
After a long silent stare, she seemed to have an epiphany, quickly took off the parachute, and dived into her notebook to write fervently.
Wu Sheng exhaled a long breath. At critical moments, knowledge was still the key.
“Xiao Kuang is cute, but you’re smart.” A voice teased from the aisle.
Wu Sheng turned to look. It was Feng Jiu.
After seeing off Experimenter Zheng, now came Accountant Feng.
She was in a professional suit, crisp and efficient, with light makeup and fine features, and her hair simply pinned up, not disheveled from flying.
“She was about to drill the glass. If I wasn’t quick-witted, I would have lost my life.” Wu Sheng didn’t beat around the bush, speaking straightforwardly. He had discovered that these passengers simply didn’t play by the rules. Even with someone nearby wanting to skydive, this one was still spectating. If he continued to be polite according to social etiquette, he wouldn’t be exhausted to death but wronged to death.
“It’s not her.” Feng Jiu suddenly murmured softly.
Wu Sheng thought he misheard and asked again, “What did you say?”
Feng Jiu smiled lightly and clearly this time. “I said the one who planted the bomb isn’t her.”
Wu Sheng’s nerves tensed in an instant. “Do you know who it is?”
Feng Jiu shook her head again, picking up a tall glass next to her iPad, sipping lightly.
“I don’t know,” she said. “But I don’t think the criminal is her.”
Wu Sheng frowned. “You think?”
“Yes, I think,” Feng Jiu gave him a charming smile, “You should believe in a woman’s intuition.”
Wu Sheng: “……”
He was doubting the entire world now. =_=
“By the way, how old do you think I look?” Feng Jiu suddenly asked, out of the blue.
Wu Sheng, perplexed, looked at her for a while and didn’t hold back, stating frankly, “Thirty-seven or thirty-eight.”
Feng Jiu’s smile widened. The red liquid in her highball glass gently swayed with her laughter. “You’re so sweet,” she said with an unfinished smile, her voice very low and light. Even her body slightly leaned towards Wu Sheng, as if what she was about to say was a huge secret. “I’m sixty.”
Thankfully, there was an aisle between them. Wu Sheng didn’t move, just swallowed hard.
“Want to know how I maintain myself?”
“No, thank you.”
It’s not only women who have intuition; men have it too.
For example, right now, intuition was telling Wu Sheng—please, end this dangerous topic!
Feng Jiu pouted unhappily, sat up straight again, and continued to savor her wine—if the bright red liquid in the cup was indeed wine.
Wu Sheng looked past her to Chen Yiling. This parent that was still diligently revising her child’s essay was arguably the most adorable person in the row.
In the next three minutes, Wu Sheng tried to embody Xu Wang’s spirit, not stopping for a moment, speaking as fast as lightning, and swept through the business class in a whirlwind—
Chu Yiyi: “Do you want to hear me sing opera?”
Wu Sheng: “Not really!”
Wei Yi’er: “Why do I carry test tubes around? I’m a chemistry teacher. A student asked me if it’s possible to do a high-concentration, harmless gas production experiment in a closed cabin, whether it would affect the distribution and consumption of oxygen inside the cabin. I think just giving a conclusion isn’t enough. As a teacher, I must present a scientific experimental process…”
Wu Sheng: “Hand over the test tubes, and just sit still!”
Jiang Yisan (13): “Shh, keep it down, or my wife will find out I’m also on the plane.”
Wu Sheng: “Why are you hiding it from her?”
Jiang Yisan: “I don’t want to revise my son’s essay.”
Wu Sheng: “……”
Jiang Shi San: “You’re right, my wife is Chen Yiling. Actually we…”
Wu Sheng: “I didn’t say anything, thank you.”
Shen Yisi (14): “Uncle, is the b-bomb really disarmed… I’m so scared wuwuwu…”
Wu Sheng: “Yes, the captain has announced it. Don’t you trust Uncle, or the captain?”
Shen Yisi: “Okay, I trust! Uncle, I want candy.”
Wu Sheng: “Er, I don’t have any…”
Shen Yisi: “Wuwuwu waaah—”
Wu Sheng: “……”
After finally getting a piece of mint candy from the flight attendant to calm the child down, Wu Sheng stood in the aisle, leaning against the seat, exhausted both physically and mentally.
He retracted his earlier words.
The Kuang Jinxin guarding Handsome, Long Legs, Stick Figure, and Fair Face, the Kuang Jinxin who wandered around the business class with the [Cheat Sheet] notification and asked nothing, and the Kuang Jinxin who only focused on “discussing tea”, wasn’t slow, but truly a darling blessed by fate!
“Hey, buddy.” Someone lightly tapped his shoulder from behind.
Wu Sheng, too tired to turn around, waved his hand dismissively. “Whether you’re fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, or eighteen, wait till I catch my breath.”
The person behind him didn’t leave but leaned closer to whisper, “I know who the bomb perpetrator is.”
Wu Sheng caught his breath, turned around sharply, and met a smug smile.
He saw a young man who looked to be about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old. He was wearing a hoodie and sweatpants with his hands in pockets. He had a sunny, handsome face, except for a hint of arrogance between his brows that was slightly annoying.
“Xu Erling (20).” The person extended a hand.
“Wu Sheng.” He replied.
“I know.” Xu Er Ling shrugged. “I’ve been listening to you introduce yourself several times just now.”
Wu Sheng didn’t bother with further pleasantries and pulled the man to the junction between business and economy class, away from both sides, then got straight to the point. “You know who the perpetrator is?”
Xu Erling shrugged and said calmly, “Not only do I know who the bomb perpetrator is, I also know the bomb hasn’t been disarmed at all. The recent broadcast was just a bluff.” His lips slowly curled up, swaying a finger side to side. “This trick is too childish. It might deceive others, but not me. Tough luck.”
Wu Sheng watched him silently, feeling that this annoying demeanor was familiar—very familiar—often seen, frequently seen.
“That kid,” Xu Erling suddenly lowered his voice and glanced at Shen Yisi, not far away, happily eating the mint candy. He said each word with great certainty. “He’s the bomb perpetrator.”
Wu Sheng: “…He’s only six years old.”
Xu Er Ling: “Washington was chopping down cherry trees at his age.”
Wu Sheng: “That story is made-up.”
Xu Er Ling: “Edison also used a mirror to help his mother successfully perform an appendectomy.”
Wu Sheng: “That story is also fabricated.”
Xu Er Ling: “Lu Binwang wrote ‘Ode to the Goose’ at seven. Cao Chong weighed elephants at five or six. These are true, right?”
Wu Sheng: “Are you trying to exhaust the list of prodigies from all ages and countries to accuse a child?”
Xu Erling was at a loss for words. He stared at him for a while, then clenched his teeth. “I don’t have direct evidence, but the mere fact that a six-year-old child is flying alone is suspicious enough!”
This time, Xu Erling’s argument finally carried some weight.
Wu Sheng glanced at Shen Yisi’s bowl-cut head as reason and emotion began to battle. “Is he really flying alone?”
“You’ve talked to quite a few people just now. None were his parents, right?” Xu Er Ling said. “Don’t believe me? Then talk to the rest of the passengers; you definitely won’t find his guardian.” Having said this and seeing Wu Sheng still half-convinced, he blurted out everything he knew, “I’ve already asked the flight attendant. He boarded the plane alone. It’s too suspicious. I’ve already smelled the scent of crime.”
Wu Sheng’s mind was clear. All the people he had asked, the words said, clearly listed in his mind. But his head was a mess, momentarily unsure whether to follow such a ruthless line of reasoning.
If Shen Yisi is the perpetrator…
Damn, was he going to force a little kid for the code?!
“Bang—”
“Thud—”
“Crack—”
“Ahhhhhhh—”
The sudden disturbance came unexpectedly from first class.
This airplane’s first class wasn’t simply separated from business class by a curtain but by a white plastic sliding door. With the door closed, it was impossible to see what was happening inside.
But those sounds broke through the door, invading the ears of every passenger in business class. The sound of heavy objects falling, people tumbling, various items being knocked over and breaking, and the screams of women and shouts of men—even Wu Sheng, standing at the juncture between business and economy class and a distance from the first-class door, could hear everything clearly.
With a “click,” the door was forcefully slid open. A tall figure dashed out from inside, then quickly turned back to slam the door shut before striding rapidly towards Wu Sheng.
Wu Sheng watched Qian Ai rush towards him with puzzlement, yet also felt the comforting warmth of encountering a companion in a deserted place.
Although he knew first class was probably no less chaotic, it had fewer people and, in absolute terms, less trouble, so Wu Sheng felt he had the right to complain. “Lao Qian, let me tell you, it’s all crazy over here. Now they’re even suspecting a preschool child. I should’ve chosen first class when splitting cabins…”
While he was speaking, Qian Ai had already reached him, taking in all his complaints, and then without hesitation, he grabbed his hands. “Let’s switch then.”
Wu Sheng was taken aback for a moment. “Huh?”
Qian Ai looked at him intently. “Can you tame animals?”
Wu Sheng was even more baffled. “What?”
“Bang—”
The sliding door opened again, but this time it didn’t slide open—it was broken through.
A majestic and powerful lion leapt onto the empty chair back of Kuang Jinxin’s seat in first class, arrogantly surveying the entire business class before letting out a roar that shook the mountains and intimidated the plains!
Xu Erling was the first to snap back to reality, screaming “What the hell—” and turned to flee towards economy class. Prompted by him, screams erupted throughout the business class as passengers jumped up and ran, clearing out in the blink of an eye!
The lion king seemed utterly indifferent to their panic, only locking eyes with Wu Sheng and Qian Ai who remained. To say “locking eyes” might not be accurate since the lion’s gaze was half-lidded, exuding a disdainful air.
Well, if it didn’t have the words “靠”, “开”, and “啊”* hanging around its neck, body, and tail respectively.
*Clarity: The characters basically form a curse along the lines of “Fuck! Get away! Ahhhh—” with some characters missing.
Wu Sheng: “Lao Qian, I need an explanation.”
Qian Ai: “Just talking, and it came out…”
Wu Sheng: “And this styling?”
Qian Ai: “Words Like Pearls and Jade.”
Wu Sheng: “?”
Qian Ai: “’Fuck’, ‘Get away’, ‘Ah’. That’s my emotional journey.”
Wu Sheng: “You’re quite composed, then.”
Qian Ai: “I also shouted ‘Help’, ‘Don’t look at me’, ‘It’s not like I cheated’, ‘Ahhhhhhhhhh’, were all torn apart by it.”
This might be the longest time Teest and Nol have had “skin-to-skin” contact.
First, Teest found a comfortable spot among the twisting and entwining dragon horns, where he sweetly slept for a while. Then, he climbed down along Nol’s claws, using magic to press and relieve the numbness in the Dracolich’s claws.
Their telepathic connection never broke while they were awake—it was boring to keep flying forward. In this world without electronics, Nol really needed communication.
So, the Mad Monk turned over all his years’ worth of cases, giving a killer’s version of case commentary.
[…Viscount Gragg was indifferent to gender—he was fond of hunting attractive young people.]
Teest lay excitedly on the dragon’s mouth, gesturing to Nol’s huge blue eyes.
[The second before he realized he was tricked, he tried to grab my hand—I stuffed a dead hand in my sleeve, tightly wrapped in a glove. He pulled hard, tearing it right off! The cross-section of the corpse’s hand was all gold wire. His expression at that moment was priceless. It’s a pity I didn’t have a recording crystal.]
[I styled him as ‘Chaste Patricia’, when the bishop of Circle City came out, he saw the old viscount dressed in a white gown and a floral crown… Haha, the bishop’s face was the color of olive skin.]
[You’ve never been discovered?]
Nol, not wanting to imagine a cross-dressing old pervert, quickly changed the topic.
It was hard to imagine that Teest, when he first became the Mad Monk, was only in his teens and so adept.
[What a cruel question.]
The once-excited person deflated, flipping over to lie in a spread-eagle position on the dragon’s mouth.
[Why do you think I hate Painter so much?]
[He caught you? Tell me.] Nol was surprised. As far as he knew, Painter was no longer the Pope at that time.
Since his beloved God requested it, Teest reluctantly narrated—
Back then, the Mad Monk was not yet eighteen, indeed just starting out. His crime rate wasn’t high, and there were few victims, so neither the Temple nor the Church could figure out his criteria for choosing victims.
His third victim had an unsuspecting noble lover. After learning of the lover’s murder, the noblewoman hired a mercenary group.
[…Don’t be fooled by Painter’s smiling face. He’s full of bad water. Of course, it doesn’t matter to me now. I was no match for him back then,] Teest unhappily stated. [He investigated for half a year and found me just as I was about to strike my fourth target—I had replaced a maid in the target’s mansion, and he disguised himself as the gardener, infiltrating even earlier than me.]
[Maid.] Nol immediately caught the key point.
[Well, it was dark in the iron cage, and the Eternal Church’s food was really bad.] Teest nonchalantly shrugged. [Back then, I was less than 1.7 meters tall and not very robust. If I pretended to be a male servant, it would have aroused suspicion.]
[He still found you.]
[Yeah, but luckily he did his own investigation and found that my fourth target wasn’t simple. When Painter encountered me, I was in the target’s sacrificial chamber dealing with the body.]
Nol listened attentively, almost forgetting to flap his wings. [Then what?]
[Then the guy opened the door, saw the scene inside, exclaimed “Wow,” said “Excuse me,” and closed the door himself. I was so surprised I almost didn’t react, forgetting to pull the gold thread.]
[I was still pondering whether to flee or continue when he opened the door again and said to me—] Teest cleared his throat and imitated Painter’s tone. [“I’ve investigated. Your first three targets were all from the Eternal Church. If it’s just a coincidence, the day you kill an innocent, I will definitely catch you. If it’s not a coincidence… keep up the good work, Mr. Maid!”]
[Then he gently closed the door, and that was that.]
[Hahaha!] Nol laughed mercilessly.
[You’re so cruel.] Teest complained, patting the scales. [That was the only time I’ve been discovered.]
[I can understand your hatred for him now, Mr. Maid.]
Nol thought with a smile. For the young Mad Monk, being let off lightly must have been a great humiliation—back then, the former Pope was in his prime, easily capturing a minor like Teest.
[If you want, I can dress like that and pray for you,] Teest said meaningfully.
[Forget it. There definitely isn’t your size. You’re more suited to knight attire.] Nol laughed.
Teest was no longer the skinny figure of the past—his facial features was much more rugged. With his current height and physique, even a three-year-old could easily distinguish his gender.
It was a pity he never seriously wore knightly gear. The “Knight’s Will” would have suited him well.
Thinking this, Nol sped up his flight.
Teest calmed down, looking into the joyful giant dragon pupils.
[Sleep for a while,] Nol thought tenderly. [I haven’t finished the breakfast you made yet—when we arrive, I’ll finish the jam biscuits.]
The moonlight was bright, with stars twinkling. Nol’s breath in the high sky condensed into white mist, the black scales emitting a dream-like soft glow. The clouds became dense and thick, no longer showing the starlight from the ground.
Everything really felt like a dream.
Teest’s cheek pressed against the warm scales, slowly closing his eyes, feeling the breath of the giant dragon beneath him.
That surging desire for closeness appeared again—this time not towards a gentle and handsome youth but a huge Dracolich.
[Good night, Nol.]
Teest turned his face, his lips pressing against the hard scales.
‘This feeling is really strange,’ he thought.
Everything about himself seemed to turn into an hourglass, slowly falling towards Nol. Gentle, slow, irreversible. Interests, hobbies, beliefs, life, desires… Every time he thought he had nothing more to give, the hourglass still slowly turned.
What would come next? Teest had a subtle expectation.
The Mad Monk wasn’t a restrained person. Since he was interested in Nol, why not find a chance to get closer to him? They might have a good night.
Yes, that’s settled. Next time the atmosphere was right, he would definitely try.
……
At noon, the carriage landed, and the dragon reverted back to his human form.
Nol fetched a hot towel, grimacing as he applied it to his hands. Although healing spells could remove abnormal conditions, the numb and stiff sensation lingered.
Painter watched the towel curiously, aware that the carriage’s astonishing speed to the destination meant Nol and Teest must have done something. However, he couldn’t figure out what magic would be so taxing on the hands.
Considering the ongoing influence of “Drake”, the group chose not to go to Eternal Day City but instead to Gravel Town, which was closer to the Brick Mountains.
Unlike Resin Town, Gravel Town, further north and bordering the territories of New Gemino and Shiva, hadn’t been affected by their marauding—even the Mad Monk knew not to provoke two major countries at once.
Painter tamed a wild horse and attached it to an empty carriage. Pretending to be travelers, they leisurely entered the town.
The midday sun was just right, though the blue sky wasn’t clear, tinted with an unsettling dark red at the edges. The air was polluted with a strange, pungent odor.
However, the town was livelier than expected. Before even fully entering the town, they saw the Temple’s fluttering flags.
Learning from past mistakes, Abandon paid a local merchant to let the group stay in a private residence.
Painter discreetly changed his red hair to a common local deep brown and aged his face by ten years with makeup. Thus disguised, they split up to gather supplies and information. After a busy day, they decided to fend for themselves for dinner.
As evening fell, Teest prepared warm jam biscuits and sweet wine-filled chocolates, hoping for a pleasant atmosphere. His tail wagged happily under his manservant uniform.
But the moment Teest opened the door, he was startled by the scene before him.
Nol, looking weak and unusually pale, was drawing in bed.
“What’s going on?” Teest asked, setting down the tray and striding forward.
“I feel a bit unwell,” Nol replied, fiddling with his sketches. “Nothing serious.”
Teest, forgetting his playful plans, incredulously poked Nol. “Honey, you’re undead—can anything be more absurd than a dead person falling ill?”
“It’s just some pain. I’ve checked, and my magic is stable… Maybe it’s from staying in dragon form too long.”
For the overworked Mr. Nol, this discomfort was trivial, hardly worth a sick note.
Teest let out a long “Hmm”, swiftly snatching Nol’s feather pen.
“Give it back!” Nol reached to grab it.
“Rest.” Teest, using his Death Knight strength, pressed Nol down. “I’ll make some milk. Let’s sleep early tonight.”
“I’m undead. I don’t need sleep.” Nol clutched his drafts. “I’m almost done with the spell for that knight… Mmph!”
Teest’s succubus tail found its way into Nol’s mouth again, leaving him torn between pulling and biting it.
“I bet a gold wheel you’ll go out of your way to save that Hot Ash.” Teest wiggled the tip of his tail. “Eugene is there too. Who knows what we’ll face—you need to be at your best. Think of your poor knight. My life is in your hands.”
At those words, Nol stopped struggling and reluctantly handed over his drafts.
Teest withdrew his tail, brushing it across his lips.
That night, what should have been passionate, turned into a bedtime story. Nol, sipping warm milk, ate biscuits laced with the undead knight’s strands.
The milk eased his internal pain. The jam biscuits tasted good, and Nol drowsily awaited the new skill from the undead knight.
The system’s popup was late, barely visible, and silent. Nol struggled to read it.
Strange. Could it be the influence of the Demon King’s power?
He identified the blurry pop-up window for a long time before finding the new skill he had acquired.
[Crimson Plunder]
It inflicted wounds on the enemy while restoring 60% of the damage value as health. It wasn’t a Death Knight skill, likely a holdover from the prince knight’s life.
Useful, but limited for Nol, who had only 100 health and knew healing spells.
If only he could transfer the skill to Teest, Nol thought, storing it and drifting off, leaning on his knight.
Unfortunately, Nol’s pain persisted through the night. It rooted deep, neither worsening nor improving.
Nol tried to resolve it by being disembodied, but the pain remained. He knew he should investigate further before proceeding, but then—
“Our preparations are ahead of schedule.” Anakin arrived early in the morning, worried. “I want to go to Brick Shadow with Solo first. Just two days. We’ll return quickly, not delaying our mission.”
“The Hot Ash matter?” Nol pressed his abdomen.
“Yes. It’s rare that you brought us here so early. I don’t want to delay too long,” Anakin said. “Yesterday, everyone went out and found that the Fifth Brigade is stationed here—they seem unable to contact Eugene, and they’re very anxious. Something must have happened in Brick Shadow.”
“That group of pups isn’t rushing over the mountains to save people, which is unlike them.” Teest shrugged.
Anakin bit her lip. “Fischer mentally induced a Temple’s bishop. It’s said that the Temple’s divinations failed, so they resorted to sacrificing Chosen Ones to ask God.”
The sacrifice of the Chosen Ones.
Nol immediately recalled the sight of Eugene impaled by two swords during the search for The Manor—the bloody and sinister sacrifice ended, and the so-called “God” immediately pointed the way with a meteor. A quick response indeed.
He also remembered the spectacular sight of the meteor falling and the system’s strange but serious prompt. Yes, the Temple of Life really had a “God”. How could it fail like that?
“What was the result of asking God?” Nol frowned, sensing a premonition.
“They sacrificed two Chosen Ones, but God remained silent. When they asked about other major events, the signs appeared again. Brick Shadow is just so strange.” Anakin’s voice was bitter. “Such a situation has never occurred before, so the Fifth Regiment doesn’t dare to act rashly…”
“…Just waiting for you Players from another world to go and face death.” The Mad Monk summarized, glancing at Nol. “Didn’t you ever think of just following us and avoiding Brick Shadow?”
“No.” Anakin forced a smile, still unable to look directly at Teest. “I’m a top-tier healer built by everyone’s efforts. I can’t just sit back now. I wouldn’t be able to sleep peacefully for the rest of my life.”
“Moreover, if Hot Ash’s elite team doesn’t return, our hope of returning home becomes even more remote… I want to go home.”
Nol looked down.
“I rushed here, not for you to go ahead. We should go together. It’s a big taboo to act separately in the face of the unknown.”
Nol moved his hand away from his abdomen, saying calmly, “Anyway, we also need to go to the Endless Sea Island. Crossing Brick Shadow is the shortest way.”
“Thank you,” Anakin said gratefully, bowing her head.
“Don’t be so formal. We have our own purpose—we also want to investigate the truth.” Nol smiled. “Right, remember to ask Abandon and Painter. If they’re unwilling, they can wait in Gravel Town.”
“No problem!” Anakin readily agreed.
“Did you or Solo experience any discomfort?” Nol asked seemingly casually.
“Ah? No, we’re all fine.” Anakin asked confusedly, “What’s wrong? Are you uncomfortable?”
“Nothing, just a routine check. If anyone else feels unwell, tell me immediately.”
“I’m not feeling too well,” Teest said softly. As soon as Anakin left, his succubus tail swayed in front of Nol.
“Stop it.” Nol chuckled, but his smile faded as he looked at Teest.
Teest looked a bit pale, his lips lacking their usual color. Before Nol could think further, he cast a healing spell.
“It’s useless. I drank a potion this morning.” Teest shook his head. “Fortunately, it’s just dizziness and a heavy feeling in my organs, not pain.”
What’s going on? Did he infect Teest? He had never seen Teest fall ill during their journey!
“Lie down and rest!” Nol pushed Teest onto the bed, pressing his aching temples. “Or don’t go. We’ll just take a look… If the situation is bad, I’ll retreat immediately.”
“This time I’ll prepare a mid-range teleport. I promise to return…”
Nol was interrupted as warm fingers pressed against his lips.
Teest smiled from his pillow, his long hair flowing, and firmly mouthed, “Impossible.”
He only uttered that word, but they both knew what he was answering.
“I personally think, with a weak me accompanying you, you’ll be more cautious.”
Teest’s tail stretched out from under the blanket, lying across Nol’s thighs. “Besides, I’m chasing not just you, but the truth itself.”
Nol moved his lips without making a sound, finally sighing heavily. “Is there anything I can do for you? Anything you want to eat, or—”
“Look at you. You’re in worse shape than me.” Teest’s eyes curved. “Since you’ve promised, I do have a good idea—I want a kiss.”
He withdrew his hand, pointing to his lips. “We both need a bit of warmth, don’t we? I haven’t kissed you like this yet.”
In his eyes, the golden-haired, golden-eyed “Drake” smiled helplessly. Nol slowly leaned down, clumsily lifting his half-long pale golden hair, and kissed Teest’s lips.
Teest agilely clasped the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. For a moment, their breaths grew hot, and the ambiguous sounds continued uninterrupted.
“A new ritual you devised?”
Minutes later, Nol propped himself up, still in pain but feeling a bit better. He touched his lips and half-jokingly said, “Morning and evening prayers are over. Are you adding a noon prayer, or—”
“I just wanted to kiss you.” Teest curled his tail, answering quickly and lightly.
Nol paused.
That wasn’t something the Mad Monk would say. He could feel their once-stabilized, ambiguous balance beginning to sway dangerously at this moment.
“I’m always willing to kiss you, whatever pretext you put on it.” Nol prodded the curled succubus tail. “But before you decide on the ‘ending’ you want, we should be honest with each other.”
“Alright, alright.” Teest laughed, his tail tip burrowing into Nol’s palm. “Then let me tell the truth—”
Nol sat on the edge of the bed, curiously watching Teest’s lips.
“I just wanted to kiss you,” Teest said.
……
At the same time, in another room.
“Of course I’m going!” Painter bit into an apple, giving a muffled answer. “That’s the Demon King. Even if you don’t tell me, Miss, I will still follow.”
Abandon nervously licked his lips, glancing at Siren Fischer. “Are we all going?”
“The Demon King and my God… my God, mm, are enemies.” Fischer hugged his arms, unusually not whining. “Stop looking, I’m definitely going too.”
Anakin was somewhat surprised. Painter was expected, but Fischer’s decision really caught her off guard. Despite the Eternal Church’s many misdeeds, she didn’t expect them to have even a semblance of a bottom line in this regard.
Abandon’s pupils shook dramatically—this meant he would be the only one waiting in Gravel Town? That sounded cowardly! If girls were charging ahead, he—he couldn’t possibly become the literal meaning of “abandon”…
“I understand, then Abandon will wait here.” Anakin nodded, walking towards the door.
This was the most peaceful place on the entire plane. The space here was comfortable and spacious, and the air clean and fresh. The seats could recline 180 degrees, and there was no disturbance between adjacent seats.
When Qian Ai walked in, of the four passengers, two were asleep on their flat reclined seats. The blinds were all down, casting a layer of tranquility over the area. The earlier broadcast had quelled their last bit of anxiety, and they were now sweetly dreaming.
Seats number three and six were supposed to be occupied but were empty now. The former was Wu Sheng’s seat, and the latter’s occupant was unknown. The seat was reclined and covered with a blanket, but there was no one there.
In seats number one and two were two girls who wasn’t asleep. One had short hair covering the ears, and a mischievous sprite was idly fiddling with an empty water cup. In fact, she was already half asleep but wasn’t reclined back in her chair. She sat there occasionally nodding off and was yawning continuously; the other with shoulder-length hair was wearing glasses, giving her a refined and gentle demeanor. She was quietly reading an e-book with her head down.
The girl was startled, abruptly looking up and becoming completely alert, wishing she could shrink into her seat back. Qian Ai, realizing he was almost overwhelming her, quickly retreated to lessen the intimidation and said, “Miss, don’t be afraid. I’m not a bad person. I just want to know if you know the code for the bomb?”
The short-haired girl, still recovering from the shock, asked in confusion, “Wasn’t the bomb already disarmed?”
The broadcast had announced that the criminal was caught, and the bomb would be disarmed, and since it had been about twenty minutes since the broadcast, the passengers naturally assumed the crisis was over. This logic made sense.
Qian Ai couldn’t respond properly and didn’t want to admit that it was a lie, which might complicate things further. So, he awkwardly changed the subject. “I’m just joking with you. The bomb has been defused long ago. Haha. What’s your name?”
In a normal world, the girl would probably throw her purse at him and curse, “Are you sick?” But this was the “Owl”. As Qian Ai changed his question, the girl also seamlessly switched gears, instantly turning her fear into a radiant smile. “Zhao Yi.”
This name was easy to remember.
“Are you traveling by plane, going to school, visiting relatives, or going home?” Qian Ai was anxious inside, counting the time by the seconds, but had to proceed with the conversation gradually.
Unexpectedly, the girl laughed vivaciously, showing her pearly teeth. “Work.”
Qian Ai was unprepared for this answer and blurted out, “I thought you were a student…”
It wasn’t that he had poor judgment; the girl looked young, at most seventeen or eighteen years old.
“Shh.” The girl suddenly looked around, her big eyes darting to make sure no one was paying attention to them, then leaned in mysteriously and whispered, “I’ll tell you a secret. I’m actually a magician.”
Qian Ai didn’t believe it for a second but played along. “Then can you conjure up the bomb code?”
“That I can’t do.” Zhao Yi quickly shook her head, her face lively and laughing, clearly taking Qian Ai’s comment as a joke. “But I can make this,” she said, turning her hand, and somehow the paper cup turned into a cupcake!
A golden cupcake topped with a dollop of pure white cream, steaming slightly with the warmth and sweetness fresh from the oven.
“Here you go.” Zhao Yi offered the small cupcake to Qian Ai with a smile.
Qian Ai reminded himself internally not to eat food from strangers, but his hands and mouth had their own ideas—taking it, stuffing it in, chewing, and swallowing all in one go.
Feeling satisfied, Qian Ai started to believe she was a magician.
The short-haired girl seemed to find satisfaction in Qian Ai’s contentment, sighing contentedly and opening the shade to admire the clouds outside.
The code and this girl Zhao Yi were unrelated—Qian Ai made that judgment amid the lingering sweetness of the cake.
Having learned from this, he stood next to his seat, slightly bowed like a flight attendant, and politely interrupted, “Sorry to disturb your reading. My name is Qian Ai, what’s yours?”
The girl with glasses slightly turned her head and gave a polite response without any guards up. “Qian Er.”
Great, a namesake.
“Are you also on this flight for work?”
She dropped her eyes at the casual joke, revealing a sad sigh. “Traveling.”
Her sigh was light, but it carried a weight of sadness.
Qian Ai was stunned. No longer needing to think about it, he naturally followed his instinct and asked, “Traveling should be happy, right?”
The girl smiled bitterly. “Break-up trip.”
Qian Ai had heard of post-breakup consolation trips, but “break-up trip” was a new concept…
“Alone?”
“No, it’s called a break-up trip for a reason. Of course, with my boyfriend.”
A new concept indeed!!!
“That’s him.” She pointed to a spot, which was the fourth seat in the row, smiling gently. “We’ve agreed to break up after the trip.”
Qian Ai originally complained about Wu Sheng’s seat being unfortunate, right in the middle of a couple, but looking in the direction the girl pointed, the carefree young man was sleeping deeply, snoring loudly, spread out without a care in the world. Even if you built a magpie bridge* for him, he wouldn’t bother to walk across it.
*Clarity: This is referencing the bridge made out of magpies in the story of The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl. Despite their love, their romance was forbidden, and they were banished to opposite sides of the heavenly river (symbolizing the milky way). Once a year, a bridge made of magpies would form to reunite them for one single day (the Qixi Festival).
Qian Ai felt old, unable to understand why a breakup necessitated a trip. Wasn’t a quick end better? For instance, a final meeting, a splash of coffee, or a dramatic turn and chase after a bus in the rain seemed ceremonious enough.
But all that wasn’t the point.
“Continue reading, miss. I’ll have a chat with your boyfriend.”
Intuitively, the bomb and this heartbroken traveler, Qian Er, were unrelated. Qian Ai decided to switch his focus immediately.
“Hey, wake up.” Qian Ai pushed the young man, who was deep in sleep and neglecting his girlfriend. “Stop sleeping. Get up for a chat!”
It was unclear whether he didn’t control his strength well or the young man was just too frail, but with one final push, Qian Ai ended up knocking him to the ground with a loud thud.
The young man sat on the floor, dazed and disoriented, his arm still entangled with the seat, trying to grasp the reality of the situation.
Qian Ai, having less patience with him, directly waved his hand in front of the young man’s face. “Hey, look here. Are you out traveling?”
Finally regaining his senses, the young man stood up and stared at Qian Ai, perplexed. “Who are you?”
Since he wasn’t worried about being pursued into reality, he introduced himself. “Qian Ai.”
However, upon hearing the name, the young man immediately darkened his expression and turned to shout at Qian Er with a hostile tone. “Bringing family members won’t help. We’re not married. Dating isn’t protected by law. I’ve already told you I don’t love you anymore. When will you face reality!”
Qian Ai was speechless. With the same surname, it was indeed hard to explain the coincidence.
When in love, every word is sweet, but when love fades, every word cuts deep. Miss Qian bowed her head, her shoulders shaking slightly, and if one listened closely, they could hear the faint sound of her sobbing.
Qian Ai, who had been single for twenty-nine years, had always dreamed of finding a sweet girl to cherish and couldn’t stand seeing this. Forgetting this wasn’t reality, he passionately slapped the young man on the head. “Can’t you fucking speak nicely? And if you’re breaking up, then just break up. What’s all this bullshit about traveling? You’re so full of it!”
The young man quickly assessed the physical difference between himself and Qian Ai and reluctantly suppressed his urge to retaliate, only covering his head and protesting. “It was her idea to travel! You think I wanted this?”
Caught off guard, Qian Ai instinctively looked towards Miss Qian. She finally lifted her head, her face streaked with tears, and responded in a hoarse voice, “Yes, it was my idea for the breakup trip, but I didn’t ask you to bring your new love.” Her voice grew fainter towards the end, but a tinge of hatred seeped through her soft words.
Qian Ai’s eyes widened in disbelief—this is outright a fucking scumbag!
The young man was also taken aback, apparently not expecting his girlfriend to have such insight. But soon, he resignedly confessed, “I told you before, changing hearts is my fault, but love is uncontrollable. I’ve fallen for her. I’ve never loved anyone like this, to the point where I would give my life for her. Do you understand? I couldn’t go on this trip with you behind her back. That would be betraying her!”
Qian Ai watched the young man self-righteously explain and felt his worldview shatter—what kind of fucking twisted logic is this?!
Miss Qian suddenly stood up, tears still in her eyes, but walked towards the young man with a determined stride. The young man’s arrogance instantly diminished; he was clearly aware of his wrongdoing, and he unconsciously took a step back.
However, Miss Qian stopped in the aisle between the seats, maintaining a moderate distance, and asked with a steady gaze, “Do you really love her that much?”
Without hesitation, the young man nodded. “Of course.”
His answer was too firm and sincere, and even Qian Ai, who disliked him, had to admit that perhaps he really did love the “other woman”.
Logically, this answer should have hurt Miss Qian more, but surprisingly, she smiled, faintly and even a bit sweetly. “Do you think she loves you?”
“Of course,” he answered with the same conviction.
Miss Qian tilted her head and innocently blinked. “Then why, after all our arguing, is she still pretending to be asleep?” The young man was stumped, his gaze involuntarily drifting towards the blanket-covered seat in the back row.
Qian Ai followed his gaze to the mysterious fifth seat, covered with a blanket and completely concealing the person underneath… What is this? A breakup trip with the current, the mistress, and the scumbag all seated together?!
“Maybe she doesn’t want to embarrass you.” The scumbag finally found an excuse for his “true love”.
Qian Ai rolled his eyes unabashedly, knowing even as someone inexperienced in love that the “mistress” was avoiding trouble by feigning sleep. While the scumbag might sacrifice his life for her, she might only consider him a fling or even a backup plan!
“How considerate of her,” Miss Qian said as she walked towards the fourth seat, gently pinching the corner of the blanket. “She’s worried about embarrassing you.”
With those softly murmured words, she yanked the blanket up!
Underneath, in the spacious seat, a woman was laying on top of a man, disheveled and lost in ecstasy.
Qian Ai, tall and strong, didn’t need to move closer. He glanced down and saw everything. The girl had slightly curly waves, red lips, and an hourglass figure, while the man was handsome and well-built with well-developed pecs.
Neither made any sudden movements but instead calmly maintained their “intimate position”. Their eyes swept over Qian Er, who had lifted the blanket, while Qian Ai stood dumbstruck. Finally, his gaze fell on the young man, whose face had started to tremble, and he gave an awkward smile. “Hey.”
The shock was too sudden, coupled with the sting of Cupid’s broken arrow. The young man’s legs gave out, and he collapsed back into his seat, every cell in his body rejecting this dramatic twist of fate.
Qian Ai also weakened at the knees and sat down on Wu Sheng’s chair. Now, he understood why seat number six was empty. But—he was only joking about being entertained or a spare tire; did the plot really need to be this thrilling? And how did they manage to do it without making a sound? Were they covered with a soundproof blanket?!
“You’re really something,” Zhao Yi said, who had been looking out the window. She slowly stood up, turned around without leaving her seat, and just stood there, quietly observing the man and woman behind her. Her delicate features no longer bore a lively smile but only a smear of ridicule. “I really thought you came to work with me.”
The muscular gentleman could no longer remain calm, hurriedly pushing the woman off him and clumsily fixing his clothes. “No, listen to me. It was just a spur of the moment, just playing around…”
Qian Ai’s head hurts. He had never encountered such complex personal relationships in his life. Short-haired Zhao Yi and the muscular man were a couple; glasses Qian Er and the young man were another; wavy-haired beauty was like the third wheel, winning over the fickle young man’s true love, then having an affair with Zhao Yi’s man?
Isn’t living a simple life better?!
“Wait, Zhao Yi, stop!” the muscular man suddenly shouted in panic.
Qian Ai’s body tensed, sensing that the girl might do something foolish. He was about to leap forward—confident he could snatch away whatever self-harming tool she might have—only to find that she was still holding the same empty cup.
Qian Ai brake in time, not acting recklessly. After all, fiddling with an empty cup wasn’t much… Wait, what was her profession again?
In a blink, Zhao Yi’s empty cup magically flipped and vanished into thin air. The next moment, a roar worthy of the king of beasts emanated from seat number six.
The roar was so powerful, it whipped up a gale in the first-class cabin!
Everyone was petrified, too scared to move. Qian Ai, though bold, took a deep breath and unconsciously pressed his back against the seat, trying his best not to make eye contact with the lion occupying seat number six. Meanwhile, he was calculating whether running away or playing dead had a higher chance of survival.
However, both options seemed bleak. The lion, which was sleeping peacefully like a kitten in the cargo hold, was now fully awake and furious. Its gaze was sharp and fierce, just like a real lion king.
He remembered now; Miss Zhao Yi was a magician.
But shouldn’t you have mentioned you’re a circus magician?!
Lu Yiyao felt that the only reason he survived the Soaring Over the Horizon ride was thanks to the designer’s mercy.
Firstly, it was a 4D spherical screen movie, so the environment was completely dark. He could feel he was in mid-air, but looking down only revealed his feet illuminated by the screen, not the actual height.
Secondly, once the seat reached a certain height, it stopped moving, only occasionally bumping slightly in sync with the scenes on the screen, but very gently, within his tolerance limit.
So, throughout the ride, Lu Yiyao kept his eyes tightly shut. Once he lost the “high-altitude visual sensation” and with the relatively stable seat, only the fear induced by the thought of “hanging in mid-air” remained. Gradually, he managed to bear it, though still stiff all over.
However, Ran Lin was unaware of all this.
He watched the screen intently, not wanting to miss any visual wonders. And just when he thought the visual experience couldn’t get any better, he smelled scents related to the scenes!
Naturally, he wanted to share his excitement with his companion—
Ran Lin: “Do you smell the grass? It’s really like grass!”
Lu Yiyao: “Yeah!”
Ran Lin: “The scent of spices!”
Lu Yiyao: “Right!”
Ran Lin: “Ah, the smell of coconut. Is that coconut?”
Lu Yiyao: “It must be!”
Ran Lin was content.
Lu Yiyao had no guilt.
Although he kept his eyes tightly closed throughout, not even glimpsing a millimeter of the horizon, anyone could smell scents, right?
When the seat landed and the lights came on, Ran Lin was still immersed, while Lu Yiyao felt like he had been reborn from disaster.
Although Ran Lin wanted to savor the experience, they were racing against time for the tasks, so he quickly unfastened his seatbelt and stood up. Then he noticed Lu Yiyao still sitting, motionless.
Ran Lin nudged him, amused. “Don’t linger. We still have seven attractions waiting for us.”
Lu Yiyao remained as still as a statue, his expression serene. “Let me reminisce for another minute—just a minute.”
Ran Lin waited patiently, understanding him. Lu Yiyao gazed ahead, his face calm, and continued to secretly rub and knead his thigh muscles with his hands resting naturally on either side.
As promised, a minute later, Lu Yiyao, no matter how stiff, unfastened his seatbelt and stood up, embodying the upright man he was.
“Are you okay? Was it that cold inside?” Once out in the sunlight, Lu Yiyao’s face looked pale, as if he was freezing.
Lu Yiyao moved his arms and legs, appearing as if he just needed to stretch after sitting for too long. “Yes, the wind was blowing the whole time. Whatever the scene, it felt a bit cool.”
Ran Lin, puzzled, didn’t understand why their experiences were so different.
Eventually, he just assumed that Lu Yiyao was more sensitive to cold.
“It’s okay. You’ll warm up once we start running. Let’s go! Off to Fantasyland!” Ran Lin said, about to pull Lu Yiyao, a natural gesture.
Lu Yiyao also naturally… stepped back half a step.
“Shouldn’t we return to Roaring Mountain Rafting? I remember that’s on the list too.” He still remembered the attraction they had missed. After all, that was in the water and seemed more… down-to-earth.
Ran Lin shook his head without hesitation. “There will only be more people queuing there by now. We can’t turn back. We need to push forward. Everyone is playing their way through the park, so each attraction will distribute visitors. This means the further ahead we go, the fewer people in line and the faster the play. We might miss some attractions, but we must strive to stay ahead of the main crowd. That’s the only way to play the most attractions in the shortest time.”
Lu Yiyao had no counterargument and followed.
Just as Ran Lin predicted, half an hour after the park opened, the closely connected “Adventure Isle” and “Treasure Cove” successfully captured most of the crowd. By the time they reached “Fantasyland”, except for the popular “Seven Dwarfs Mine Train” with a longer queue, the other attractions looked quite inviting.
Within fifteen minutes, they queued up for the Winnie the Pooh Adventure!
Riding the whimsical car, wandering through a hundred-acre forest, and Pooh’s dream world…
The journey was short, but memorable.
Coming out, Lu Yiyao’s face had turned from pale to rosy, full of energy. “I like this one!”
Ran Lin nodded. “I could tell. Your eyes lit up when you sat in the car.”
“A theme park should be warm and whimsical like this,” Lu Yiyao said, taking out the list and seriously studying it for once. “What other task is this kind of ground train mode? We can go there first.”
“…” Ran Lin felt something was off. “You don’t love Pooh’s world but love this kind of experience?”
Lu Yiyao coughed lightly, calmly putting away the list. “I love Pooh, and I love this experience.”
Ran Lin laughed, teasing: “This kind of ride is common. You can find track cars like this in any children’s park. What exactly do you love about it?”
Lu Yiyao looked into the distance, answering seriously, “Stability.”
Next to Pooh’s attraction was Fantasyland’s souvenir shop—Forest Treasures. In addition to shopping, it served another purpose—stamping for the Dream Stamps!
Ran Lin’s strategy was to enjoy attractions first, then complete stamps and photos. But if they could stamp a few along the way, it was a bonus.
As the stamp machine slowly spit out the passport, Ran Lin saw a new green circular stamp on the Hundred-Acre Wood page. It depicted Pooh, Piglet, and Tigger, with “Friends of the Hundred-Acre Wood” written above. Pooh was in the middle with honey, and Tigger was beside him, tail swaying.
Theme parks are indeed magical places where, when fully immersed, even a small stamp can bring immense happiness.
Ran Lin felt just that, increasingly fond of the stamp he held. He even showed it to Lu Yiyao, pointing out the thin pig on it and asking, “Don’t you think this little guy looks like Xia Xinran?”
Lu Yiyao seriously considered it. “What’s its personality?”
Ran Lin thought for a moment. “Seems shy and a bit neurotic.”
Lu Yiyao shook his head. “Then it’s nothing like him.”
Ran Lin was amused that Lu Yiyao seriously matched personalities. “If we’re talking lively, then it would be Tigger. But I already have you, so we can’t have two Tiggers, right?”
Lu Yiyao: “…I never agreed to this character assignment!”
Fantasyland had the most tasks, and after stamping, they moved to Voyage to the Crystal Grotto.
Lu Yiyao finally encountered a water ride, but it was a million times gentler than Rafting, with a “smooth, contemplative” experience.
Unlike Soaring Over the Horizon and Winnie the Pooh’s fully dark interior, Voyage to the Crystal Grotto was outdoors and well-lit, so the cameramen could film both the scenery and the guests’ reactions.
They didn’t notice anything special entering the ride, but after completing it, they felt the increase in crowd density in Fantasyland.
This wasn’t a good sign.
“We need to speed up.” Relaxed from completing two attractions, Ran Lin finally geared up again, spurred by the growing crowd. Lu Yiyao was ready to run like mad to avoid the masses.
“Please wait a moment!” A young man in a black down jacket stopped them as they were about to dash off.
They paused, Ran Lin thinking he was a passerby with a question, and Lu Yiyao assuming he was a fan wanting an autograph. But it was neither. The young man, with a simple and honest smile, asked directly, “I saw you two come out of the Crystal Grotto. Can you tell me what classic scenes are inside? Every ride has a long queue, and I’m afraid it won’t be worth it.”
Exchanging glances, they wondered why he chose them—did the trailing cameraman make them look like outdoor show hosts?
“It’s pretty, but there’s no lighting during the day,” Ran Lin shared succinctly. “If you’re not in a hurry, it might be better at night.”
The young man eagerly asked for more details. Good Samaritan* Ran Lin obliged, listing scenes from memory. “There’s Mulan, The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, Tangled… about that.”
*Send Buddha all the way to the west (送佛送到西). It’s an idiom referring to if you’re going to help someone, help them thoroughly, and don’t leave things half-done.
The man frowned, dissatisfied. “There should be one more. They say it’s six scenes. Think again…”
Ran Lin was stumped. He hadn’t paid that much attention, remembering five was already impressive…
“Mickey,” Lu Yiyao suddenly added. “There’s also a scene with Mickey in a dream.”
Ran Lin raised an eyebrow, surprised at his partner, as if to say, “So you were paying attention!”
Lu Yiyao smiled calmly, secretly relieved. He only remembered that one because Mickey’s sleeping cap in that scene seemed perfect for Ran Lin.
Just as the teammates shared a silent understanding, the young man suddenly zipped open his down jacket, making a harsh, grating sound.
Startled, they braced for anything, but the man pulled out two steaming fast passes and offered them with a sly grin. “Congratulations on completing the bonus question!”
…Seriously?!
They finally realized it was a setup but couldn’t complain on camera about the director’s trickery. Besides, those were fast passes for Roaring Mountain Rafting!
While waiting for the Crystal Grotto, Ran Lin had sneaked a peek at a passerby’s phone, which showed Thunder Mountain Rafting’s queue time equal to Soaring Over the Horizon at “135 minutes”—and that was just an hour after opening!
With the fast pass time approaching, they darted back to Adventure Isle for Roaring Mountain Rafting!
Perhaps good luck does have a chain reaction. Their journey afterwards was exceptionally smooth. They completed all but one of the eight attractions, with the initial decision to tackle Soaring Over the Horizon and the lucky fast passes for Roaring Mountain Rafting saving them at least four to five hours!
What does five hours mean? They had completed all seven tasks and obtained a fast pass for Tron Lightcycle Power Run, the park’s second-most popular ride, within just five hours of entering the park.
Tron Lightcycle Power Run is the second-most popular attraction in the theme park. Its queue time is slightly shorter than Soaring Over the Horizon, primarily because of its high speed—reportedly the fastest roller coaster ever built by Disney. Riders sit on devices resembling high-speed motorcycles, holding onto the handlebars, leaning forward, and securing the back with safety supports. They then experience the exhilarating sensation of rapid flips and turns.
Thus, compared to Soaring, its cycle time is shorter, allowing faster turnover of guests.
Surprisingly, Ran Lin managed to get a fast pass for the Tron Lightcycle Power Run. Although the designated time slot on the ticket was after 4 p.m., still three hours away, those three hours could be efficiently used to collect stamps, take photos, and watch performances. These activities generally didn’t require queuing, so as long as you find the right spots quickly and accurately, three hours should be more than enough to complete them leisurely.
“We’ve got this win in the bag!” As soon as Ran Lin pulled out the fast pass, he beamed confidently at Lu Yiyao.
“Yeah,” Lu Yiyao nodded, pocketing his own fast pass.
Ran Lin found it odd. “You don’t seem very excited?”
Lu Yiyao quickly shook his head. “No, it’s not that. Maybe I’m just a bit tired from all the running.”
Ran Lin didn’t suspect anything amiss and reassuringly patted his teammate’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. Next up is just walking around. Most of the stamp machines are in the shops, so we’ll collect stamps as we shop and can also complete the photo and performance tasks.”
Lu Yiyao didn’t respond but suddenly suggested, “Let’s find somewhere to eat first.”
It was already one in the afternoon, and neither had had lunch. Ran Lin naturally agreed, “Okay, wait here. I’ll go buy a couple of burgers.”
As Ran Lin was about to leave, Lu Yiyao stopped him, adding, “I don’t really want to eat while walking…”
Ran Lin was surprised at Lu Yiyao’s sudden concern for manners and patiently explained, “Though we have ample time, we should still try to move forward. Eating in a restaurant would waste too much time.”
Fwish—
Suddenly, the roar of the Tron Lightcycle Power Run whizzed past nearby, leaving only the echo of high-pitched screams from its riders in the air.
Lu Yiyao straightened his back and swallowed hard, then looked earnestly at Ran Lin. “I’d still prefer to eat sitting down in a restaurant.”
Ran Lin had never thought of Lu Yiyao as whimsical or stubborn. If it were Xia Xinran insisting, it would be understandable, but coming from Lu Yiyao, it seemed oddly out of character.
Still, considering they had enough time, indulging his teammate seemed harmless.
So they ended up eating until nearly two o’clock, with Lu Yiyao finally finishing lunch under Ran Lin’s increasingly impatient urging.
Ran Lin’s patience was nearly worn thin. Without further ado, he grabbed Lu Yiyao and headed straight to the Frozen Sing-Along Celebration!
After enjoying the Frozen performance, completing the stamp collection and photo tasks became a breeze, except for Lu Yiyao’s inexplicably slow pace. Everything seemed to be heading in a good direction, especially after collecting the last stamp at the Marvel Hero Headquarters, filling Ran Lin with immense satisfaction.
“There’s no Iron Man in the photo tasks, right?” Lu Yiyao watched as Ran Lin excitedly dashed towards the towering Iron Man statue, making various unreasonable requests to the cameraman for shots from distant to close, panoramic to close-up. He couldn’t comprehend the fan-like excitement on Ran Lin’s face.
Bearded Cameraman Sun was very accommodating, shooting as requested. His indulgence was like that of a loving father taking his son to Disneyland.
Lu Yiyao sighed and looked at his own cameraman. The cameraman got the hint. “You want one too?”
Lu Yiyao hesitated. “No, I like Spider-Man more.”
The cameraman excitedly pointed to the side.
Confused, Lu Yiyao looked over and saw an out-of-place temporary sign in Disney’s dreamy style—[Spider-Man Photo Op This Way.]
After posing with Iron Man, Ran Lin had only one feeling—a dream come true!
After posing with Spider-Man, Lu Yiyao had only one feeling—he couldn’t bear to look back.
He couldn’t fathom why he mimicked Spider-Man’s crouching, web-slinging pose during the photo op, eliciting cheers and applause from countless kids waiting for their turn.
He must be sick.
This place called Disney must be enchanted!
“Ran Lin, this is Xia Xinran calling Ran Lin!” As they exited Marvel Headquarters, Sun Ge’s walkie-talkie crackled with Xia Xinran’s familiar call.
Kindly, Sun Ge handed the walkie-talkie to Ran Lin.
Taking it, Ran Lin pressed the talk button. “I’m here. I’m here.”
“How’s the situation on your end?” Xia Xinran’s voice sounded hoarse, either from exhaustion or shouting all day.
“We’ve finished everything except the Tron Lightcycle Power Run!” Ran Lin had been waiting all afternoon to proudly proclaim this. Unfortunately, they completely missed the other four teammates in the vast park. Thankfully, Xia Xinran reached out first.
“Stamps and performance too?”
“Yeah.”
“Ahhhh!” Xia’s scream of frustration echoed through the walkie-talkie. “How can you be faster than me? We’ve finished everything too, just missing Soaring Over the Horizon and Tron Lightcycle Power Run!”
Ran Lin’s mouth curled smugly. “You got the tactics wrong.”
Xia Xinran ignored him and asked directly, “So you’re queuing for the Tron Lightcycle Power Run now?”
Ran Lin was almost grinning. “We got fast passes. Time’s up, so… we’re heading there now, haha!”
Whenever Ran Lin interacted with Xia Xinran, he always felt an inexplicable urge to tease him a bit. As expected, Xia Xinran’s wails over the walkie-talkie were heart-wrenching. “Our rapid roller coaster also needs fast passes, but they can only be used after five o’clock. Ahhhhh—”
“If you keep howling like that, the staff will kick us out…” Gu Jie’s deep and magnetic voice easily pierced through Xia Xinran’s high decibel shrieks, transmitting clearly through the walkie-talkie.
Xia Xinran’s screams abruptly stopped. Then, the walkie-talkie buzzed again, this time with Gu Jie speaking. “Guys on the other side, don’t get ahead of yourselves. It’s not over until it’s over.”
Xia Xinran’s howls were out of frustration, but Gu Jie’s words conveyed a determination to never give up until the last moment. Ran Lin’s fighting spirit was ignited. “Alright, we’re heading to the rapid roller coaster now!”
Returning the walkie-talkie to Sun Ge and taking one last reluctant look at Iron Man as a farewell, Ran Lin took a deep breath and turned decisively to Lu Yiyao. “Let’s go. Let’s make them accept their defeat convincingly!”
“Okay,” Lu Yiyao naturally agreed, his heart beating chaotically, thumping and crackling.
Ran Lin was so focused on achieving a perfect finish that he didn’t notice Lu Yiyao’s unusual behavior. It was only when they reached the entrance of the rapid roller coaster in Tomorrowland that Lu Yiyao refused to move any further, making Ran Lin finally realize something was amiss.
“You’re not scared, are you?” At first, Ran Lin didn’t take it seriously, half-joking and half-reassuring. “Anyone over 122 centimeters can ride, and although it’s fast, considering children, it mainly moves at high speed without any real 360° flips. At most, it’s just a tilt of the body.”
Lu Yiyao remained silent, only lifting his head to stare at the roller coaster tracks above.
Ran Lin thought he was still hesitating and simply said, “Okay, let’s just stand here and watch it once, and you’ll know it’s not as scary as you think.”
Two minutes later, the roller coaster, filled with tourists, sped past the two standing on the overpass. This group of passengers was energetic, leaving behind hearty roars instead of screams.
“See, it’s not that bad,” Ran Lin said, relieved, turning to Lu Yiyao.
But then he was taken aback.
Lu Yiyao’s complexion was even paler than before, a good two shades lighter than Ran Lin’s memory of the Famous Lu. And his expression was off, no longer showing any hesitation or frowning, just stiff, like he was petrified.
Ran Lin tentatively touched his teammate.
“Hmm? Are you calling me?” Lu Yiyao seemed to come back to his senses, looking over blankly.
Ran Lin swore that Lu Yiyao’s body trembled slightly when touched. Although it was faint and almost imperceptible to the eye, the feeling at his fingertips did not lie.
“Are you okay?” Ran Lin didn’t try to persuade him further, feeling the situation might be more serious than he thought.
After an unknown length of time, so long that Ran Lin began to doubt whether his question was just an illusion, Lu Yiyao finally leaned on the railing of the overpass, his stiff body gradually relaxing.
“I’m fine.” Lu Yiyao sighed softly, finally looking at Ran Lin, seemingly trying to smile but failing. “I’m just gearing up.”
Ran Lin looked at his teammate’s face, realizing for the first time that “gearing up for courage” was such a solemn matter.
“How much longer?” Lu Yiyao suddenly asked.
Knowing he was referring to the validity of the fast pass, which was only an hour, Ran Lin immediately checked his watch. “Fifty minutes left.”
Lu Yiyao pondered for a moment, then asked in a negotiating tone, warm and gentle. “Can I gear up a bit more?”
Ran Lin instinctively nodded and added, to avoid pressuring Lu Yiyao, “Xia Xinran and the others have tickets for after five o’clock, so they’ll have to wait behind us anyway.”
Lu Yiyao nodded, saying nothing more, just staring at the Tron Lightcycle Power Run track ahead, continuing to gear up.
Ran Lin didn’t say anything more either. He just quietly stood by, waiting for his teammate to be ready.
Half an hour passed.
Lu Yiyao was like a beautifully sculpted statue, and Ran Lin always wondered why no sparrows landed on his shoulder.
With a sigh, Ran Lin slapped his teammate on the back.
Caught in deep thought, Lu Yiyao jolted, turning around sharply and silently, but his face was darker than ever.
Ran Lin grinned while the sun shone radiantly. “Let’s go watch the parade.”
He was now immune to Lu Yiyao’s pallor. The man was just a paper tiger, intimidating at first but easily punctured.
Lu Yiyao hadn’t expected Ran Lin to slap his back for this, pausing for a while before saying, “After the parade, the fast pass will expire.”
Ran Lin was embarrassed, thinking to himself that Lu Yiyao had the awareness to gear up at the Tron Lightcycle Power Run for half an hour.
But instead he said, “Then we’ll just queue again.” He seemed impatient, pulling Lu Yiyao’s arm to leave. “Come on, let’s go, the parade.”
Lu Yiyao let Ran Lin pull him, but his feet didn’t move.
Ran Lin realized for the first time that Lu Yiyao was a powerhouse; if he didn’t want to move, he couldn’t be pulled away.
“Tigger buddy,” Ran Lin said helplessly, using the nickname earnestly. “If you don’t move, we’ll miss the parade too.”
The word “too” illuminated Lu Yiyao’s mind.
“You know I’m afraid of heights.” It was a statement, not a question.
Ran Lin laughed and sighed. “As if I wouldn’t have guessed after half an hour of gearing up.”
Lu Yiyao heard the tease in his teammate’s voice but wasn’t upset; in fact, he felt most apologetic, as they had everything under control.
“I’m sorry.” Lu Yiyao thought it would be hard to admit this, as it was truly embarrassing, but looking at Ran Lin, who kept giving him ways out, it didn’t seem so hard. “I’m actually acrophobic.”
“I know.” Ran Lin patted his shoulder. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have chosen to eat super spicy rice noodles.”
Lu Yiyao was surprised. “You knew then?”
Ran Lin: “Of course not. I just thought of it!”
Lu Yiyao was a bit embarrassed but still earnestly said, “I know what you’re thinking—that this kind of thing is just a psychological barrier and that it’s fine once overcome. But it’s not that simple. It’s a physiological reaction; not that it can’t be overcome, but it requires a long time and a lot of repetition, like flying. I fly almost every day now, and I’ve mostly overcome the nervousness, but I still can’t sleep soundly. As for roller coasters, where the whole body is exposed to high altitudes, don’t even think about it. Just standing here watching them, my breathing…”
“Who told you that’s what I think?”
“Huh?”
Ran Lin sighed helplessly. “Can you not volunteer to fill in the blanks for others? Of course, I know it’s a physiological reaction that’s hard to overcome. Otherwise, I wouldn’t still be afraid of needles now.”
Lu Yiyao was stunned. “Afraid of needles?”
Ran Lin: “Yes, I get dizzy and nauseous at the sight of a needle tip. When I was young, it was fear of getting shots. Now even seeing my assistant embroider cross-stitch makes me uncomfortable.”
Lu Yiyao: “Why does your assistant embroider cross-stitch?”
Ran Lin: “Maybe she’s… a bit idle?”
Lu Yiyao: “How unpopular are you…”
Seeing the topic veering towards a friendship breakdown, the two partners timely stopped, looked deeply at each other, and hooked their arms together—
“Let’s go.”
Under the sun, the shadows of the two difficult brothers merged into one, each containing the other.
Xia Xinran and Gu Jie, who rushed over in time with their fast pass, saw from a distance the two walking down from the overpass, leaning on each other, supporting each other, like…
Xia Xinran: “Ran Lin, did you fall?”
Gu Jie: “Lu Yiyao, did you twist your ankle?”
Xia Xinran: “…”
Gu Jie: “…”
Xia and Gu: “What’s with that look!”
Xia and Gu: “You’re copying me!”
Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao stood there, supporting each other more firmly—without comparison, there would be no affection. Now, they appreciated their teammates even more.
“Going to see the parade?” Xia Xinran, upon learning that the two were neither sick, injured, nor had twisted an ankle, but were simply going to watch the parade, was frustrated. “Ah, you still got ahead of us!”
Ran Lin was embarrassed, and Lu Yiyao raised his hand. “We didn’t go on the Tron Lightcycle Power Run, so you guys are the real winners.”
“Why didn’t you go?” Gu Jie checked his newly bought Mickey Mouse watch. “You still have time on your fast pass, right?”
Indeed, there were still three minutes left.
And—
Xia Xinran tilted his head, suspiciously sizing up the two partners. “You guys just came down from there, right? You really didn’t go? If you lie to me, I will be really upset.”
Ran Lin rolled his eyes at him and simply took out the unused fast pass from his pocket and handed it over.
Gu Jie and Xia Xinran examined the fast pass thoroughly and finally confirmed that the two really hadn’t gone.
But this didn’t make sense; victory was within their grasp…
“Were you two waiting for us?” Gu Jie could only come up with this explanation.
Before the parties could answer, Xia Xinran immediately debunked it. “Impossible. Ran Lin was too happy on the phone!”
Ran Lin cleared his throat, pretending he heard nothing.
Gu Jie narrowed his eyes, scanning his two partners for the second time, trying to find a clue to the truth…
Lu Yiyao sighed and pointed to his nose. “This guy is afraid of heights.”
Gu Jie: “…”
Xia Xinran: “…”
Gu and Xia: “Pffft hahaha—”
Ran Lin put his arm around Lu Yiyao’s shoulder, patting him lightly. “Hang in there.”
Lu Yiyao nodded. “I know. It’s illegal to hit people.”
After enough laughter, Xia Xinran finally wiped away his tears, declaring, “I’m going to watch the parade too!”
Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin were stunned.
Gu Jie nodded in approval. “Good idea, seconded.”
Lu Yiyao probably understood his friends’ intentions. He was moved but still felt it was unnecessary. “You guys play your games. Don’t feel it’s dishonorable; after all, acrophobia… cough, is also part of strength.”
Gu Jie, seeing Lu Yiyao couldn’t continue, didn’t tease about the “strength theory” anymore but instead asked, “Why must we ‘win’?”
Lu Yiyao was confused. “There’s always a winner in a competition.”
Gu Jie: “Who said this is a competition?”
Lu Yiyao: “…”
Ran Lin, understanding, smiled and added, “Chen Sheng and Wu Guang were never in competition.”
Lu Yiyao suddenly realized. He was touched and couldn’t help but laugh. “So now we…”
Gu Jie grabbed Xia Xinran, imitating Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin’s poses. “Let’s rise up!”
“Hey, hey, my neck is going to break—”
Under the sunlight, more and more indistinguishable shadows merged.
Finally, Gu Jie used the walkie-talkie to connect with Zhang Beichen and Tang Xiaoyu, only to find that they were already on Mickey Avenue.
It turns out they saved Soaring Over the Horizon for last, but as the parade was about to start and the queue was still long, they gave up and came to watch the parade. After all, visiting Disney without experiencing any attractions but watching the parade is like going to Guilin without cruising the Li River or visiting Sichuan without seeing pandas.
At 10 p.m., the recording finally ended.
The six watched the parade, enjoyed the light show, rode the carousel, ventured through Alice’s Garden Maze, and visited the Fantasy Fairy Tale Castle… They experienced what was on the list and played even those not listed, sometimes queuing multiple times for favorites like Xia Xinran’s beloved carousel and Ran Lin’s obsession, Iron Man.
Indeed, Ran Lin went back for a second photo.
Lu Yiyao’s expression then was no better than Gu Jie’s, waiting by the carousel.
In the end, no group completed all the tasks.
Lu Yiyao, Ran Lin, Xia Xinran, and Gu Jie missed the Tron Lightcycle Power Run.
Zhang Beichen and Tang Xiaoyu missed Soaring Over the Horizon.
To be honest, missing these signature attractions of Shanghai Disney was a regret. But they used the time to explore every corner of the park, every shop, and even revisited some less popular but still beautiful and dreamy attractions—a truly leisurely experience that hours of queuing couldn’t replace.
More importantly, they had no more rivals, only partners.
The joy of one person is one, but six friends together are infinitely joyous.
This episode wasn’t about Fairy Tale First Love, but a Fairy Tale Drifting Group.
The director was surprised but pleased with the outcome. “So this episode’s recording ends here. Thank you all for your hard work today…”
Gentle, lover’s whisper-like light music began Lu Yiyao’s morning.
Awakening, Lu Yiyao experienced a moment of confusion, unsure if he was awake or still in a dream. His alarm had always been dynamic Western music, which made him wake up to an upbeat rhythm, sometimes even leading him to dance a few steps after turning it off.
Today’s wake-up tune was excessively soft, making one not want to get up but rather continue snuggling in the soft, fluffy blanket.
A hand suddenly stretched out from the adjacent bed, found the phone, flipped it screen-down on the nightstand, and the light music abruptly stopped. The white arm, like a swift snake, quickly retracted under the covers. The owner of the arm then lazily turned over and continued sleeping.
Lu Yiyao watched the guy lying on his side, facing him, speechless.
Last night, they hadn’t drawn the curtains when they went to bed. The entire window overlooked the lake, with the only visible object being the distant castle, eliminating the possibility of peeping. Plus, the room wasn’t very spacious, and drawing the curtains felt somewhat suffocating. Considering they had to get up early the next day and the sunlight would be nice, they decided against closing them.
But they miscalculated.
The winter sun always rises late, and at this moment, the room was only bright enough to dispel the darkness, far from clear and bright.
So Ran Lin continued to sleep uninhibitedly, blissfully unaware of the time in his dreams.
His face, pressed into the pillow, appeared somewhat flattened on one side, making the other half curiously plump and round. Watching him, Lu Yiyao recalled his female classmate from elementary school, an extremely distant memory that was sometimes clear but mostly vague. However, now it vividly resurfaced in his mind, so clear that he remembered her tearful eyes and the soft touch of her round cheeks when he pinched them.
The light music started again.
Lu Yiyao snapped back to reality, realizing he was reminiscing about his childhood while looking at his male co-star, which felt bizarre.
The white arm made its second appearance, flipping the previously turned phone back over, and then, just like before, swiftly withdrew under the covers, even more adept than five minutes ago.
Lu Yiyao silently picked up his phone, turned off the still untriggered alarm, and went to the bathroom to freshen up.
Returning from the bathroom, Ran Lin showed no signs of waking. Lu Yiyao finally understood that the alarm was set for him.
Tit for tat, Lu Yiyao unhesitatingly played his own style of alarm on his phone—
“Don’t you wish your girlfriend was hot like me~~ Don’t you wish your girlfriend was a freak like me~~ Don’t cha…*”
Ran Lin’s eyes snapped open, and he sat up abruptly. His movements were quiet but impressive.
Lu Yiyao was startled and even forgot to turn off the alarm.
So the two of them sat there, staring at each other, listening to the entire chorus.
Finally, Lu Yiyao turned off the alarm, coughed awkwardly, and said, “Morning.”
Ran Lin blinked twice, then fairly commented, “It sounds pretty good.”
Lu Yiyao, looking at Ran Lin’s bedhead, thought he should stop pretending to be calm but still managed to hold back a smile and reminded, “Your alarm went off twice already.”
Unexpectedly, Ran Lin nodded calmly and seriously said, “Yeah, there’s actually a third time. I wake up on the third one.”
Lu Yiyao found this hard to believe. “The second time was before I freshened up, and there hasn’t been a third time since.”
“The first two were five minutes apart. The third is fifteen minutes later.”
“There’s a repeated alarm like that?”
“Three separate alarms set accordingly.”
“…”
“Can I… go freshen up now?”
What else could Lu Yiyao say? “Of course. Wish you a successful mission.”
Watching Ran Lin’s figure disappear into the bathroom, Lu Yiyao nodded in admiration. He was the type who couldn’t go back to sleep once awake. Usually, the alarm meant a new day had officially begun, so Ran Lin’s staged waking method seemed like a talent to him.
Breakfast was buffet-style at the hotel. When the two entered the dining area, many guests were already there. But more eye-catching were the three cartoon characters mingling in the restaurant: Goofy, whom they had seen yesterday, and Mickey and Judy, happily entertaining everyone with dance moves and welcoming anyone for photos.
With such characters around, no one paid attention to the entrance of the two stars and their two follow-up cameramen.
However, Ran Lin curiously glanced at Judy Hopps from “Zootopia”. Her fresh image among the traditional Disney characters was striking.
But before he could get a clear look at Judy, he was startled by a “fan” taking a photo with her.
Xia Xinran was almost hugging her, excitedly taking pictures and incessantly asking, “Where’s Nick? Isn’t he with you?”
Ran Lin imagined seeing the resignation on the face of the staff member inside the Judy costume.
His “roommate” and die-hard fan of Nick Wilde sat at a table in a distant corner, leisurely spreading jam on his bread, oblivious to everything behind him, leaving only a solitary, majestic silhouette to the world.
Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin walked straight towards him. Before reaching the table, Ran Lin couldn’t help but greet his companion with a chuckle. “Good morning.”
Gu Jie turned around, seeing his two partners, and smiled amicably, “Morning.”
“Didn’t go for a photo?” Lu Yiyao casually asked as he pulled out a chair.
Ran Lin couldn’t help but notice Lu Yiyao’s playfulness, which seemed to appear out of nowhere without warning.
“I prefer to keep a low profile,” Gu Jie replied briskly, but the weariness in his eyes betrayed him.
Ran Lin, amused, asked directly, “How did you sleep last night?”
Gu Jie glanced deeply in Xia Xinran’s direction, then withdrew his gaze after a long moment. “A new day. I only look forward.”
In the end, neither Ran Lin nor Lu Yiyao could figure out what kind of inhumane torment Xia Xinran had inflicted on Gu Jie. Gu Jie didn’t want to talk about it, and according to Xia Xinran, he was an excellent roommate.
After a short while, Zhang Beichen and Tang Xiaoyu also arrived, and the six of them shared a cozy breakfast together. Finally, forty minutes before the park opened, they boarded a ferry at Star Wish Lake to head to the theme park.
On the second day of filming, the six still wore their blue and white-printed sweatshirts. Yesterday’s “team uniform”, which seemed oddly childish at the TV tower, looked playful and harmoniously blended with the whimsical atmosphere of today.
As soon as they boarded the ferry, the program staff began distributing Disney passports to the guests.
Once the passports were distributed, the director immediately stepped in front of the camera and hurriedly explained, “Because there will be many people at the entrance later, I need to explain today’s tasks here. First, everyone can pull out the colored paper clipped in the passport. This is a list, and the items on it are the tasks everyone must complete today…”
With six people and only three passports, everyone wasn’t sure what the production team was thinking, but they naturally shared the passports since the director was speaking. Ran Lin had taken a seat randomly when boarding the ferry and ended up next to Zhang Beichen. The passport was handed to Zhang Beichen, so without waiting for Ran Lin to speak, Zhang Beichen pulled out the list for both of them to view, as the director explained.
Ran Lin didn’t speak but felt quite comfortable about it.
As the director said, the list outlined four tasks: “Collect fourteen dream stamps”, “Experience eight happy dreams”, “Take two beautiful photos”, and “Watch one spectacular performance.”
Before they could examine the details, the director established today’s main rule. “Whoever completes all the tasks on the list in the shortest time will be our Fairy Tale First Love team for today, and the ultimate Fairy Tale First Love will be selected from this group!”
Everyone suspected they misheard and unanimously looked at the director. “Team?”
The director matter-of-factly responded, “Yes, there are only three passports, so today it’s not a competition among six people, but between pairs—three teams competing against each other!”
Gu Jie had a bad premonition and interrupted without minding manners. “How are the teams divided?”
The director grandly gestured, “Naturally, according to the rooms. Staying together last night was to build your rapport!”
Gu Jie: “…”
Xia Xinran: “…What?! “
Ran Lin wanted to turn and see his “teammate’s” reaction, but the director’s following words stopped him—
“The ferry is about to dock, so please be prepared. The park will be crowded. Although the park supports our filming, there are operational rules, so today’s primary condition is not to affect other visitors. Therefore, during filming, only the cameraman will follow you. Please queue and wait as needed, always demanding of yourselves the standards of an ordinary visitor. Anything else, gentlemen?”
“Yes.” Both Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao raised their hands and spoke simultaneously.
They looked at each other, equally astonished.
The director nodded naturally. “As expected, staying together builds rapport. Feel free to speak your mind.”
Both thought the other had the same idea, so when the director prompted them to speak, they both started—
Ran Lin: “Ordinary visitors have mobile phones.”
Lu Yiyao: “Ordinary visitors have wallets.”
Ran Lin, Lu Yiyao: “…”
Rapport is indeed a whimsical sprite.
The director wasn’t fazed by multiple questions. “Mobile phones are still not allowed. Although you need to hold yourselves to the standards of ordinary visitors, you are, after all, a special group on a mission, and we seek this unknown joy… As for wallets, yes, today you can bring them to shop in the park’s stores for merchandise or specialty food. After all, it’s rare to come here, and the production team wouldn’t want to deprive you of fun. But remember, you are just ordinary visitors, so please carry any purchases yourselves. Therefore, I suggest you leave shopping until later…”
“Any other clarifications, gentlemen?” The director hurriedly checked as they approached the park entrance. “Once inside, you can only contact the production team through the walkie-talkies with the cameramen, so don’t lose them.”
The six nodded solemnly.
Not because the director was stern, but because the ferry was docking, and they already felt the impending turmoil from the dense crowd waiting to enter the park.
Half an hour before the actual opening time, the entrance began ticket checking. However, those who entered couldn’t start enjoying the attractions; they were all held at Main Street, waiting for the barricades to open.
The production team looked impressive on the ferry, but once submerged in the sea of people, they became inconspicuous. Soon, Ran Lin couldn’t spot the director anymore.
Lu Yiyao, holding the passport, waited for his partner, but turned around to find him discussing the list with Xia Xinran, much to his chagrin.
“Ran Lin.” Lu Yiyao directly called out.
Ran Lin looked up. “Hmm?”
Lu Yiyao took a deep breath and let it out slowly, managing a gentle smile. “The handsome guy beside you seems to be from the opposing team.”
Xia Xinran finally got his chance and loudly offered, “I’ll switch with you. Gu Jie’s yours!”
Lu Yiyao was exasperated; what did he want with Gu Jie? Did Gu Jie have a secret strategy?
Gu Jie, wearing sunglasses and aloofly enjoying his time, completely ignored them. He was already paired with Xia Xinran, so nothing worse could happen in his world.
The idea of switching teams ultimately didn’t materialize because Lu Yiyao, with the irrefutable reason of “Hey, it seems there are fewer people queuing over there,” led Ran Lin from the end of one queue directly to another end several ticket checks away. Xia Xinran immediately grasped this silent refusal and could only look at Ran Lin with a sigh.
Finally having some peace, Lu Yiyao could focus on discussing the task list with Ran Lin.
“Collect fourteen dream stamps”—find stamping machines at fourteen specified locations based on clues in the Disney passport and stamp the corresponding dream stamps in fourteen blank spaces reserved in the passport.
“Experience eight happy dreams”—experience eight specified attractions in the park.
“Complete two beautiful photos”—take a photo each with Mickey at “Mickey’s Fantasy Garden” and with one of the twelve friends at “Twelve Friends Garden”.
“Watch one spectacular performance”—choose and watch one of the several performances shown in the park every day from beginning to end.
“What are your thoughts?” Lu Yiyao, having done some cursory research on Shanghai Disney the night before, anticipated that the tasks would involve the park. But now, seeing these tasks, he only had one word in mind—headache.
“My thoughts are the same as yours.” Ran Lin sighed, pointing to the second item on the list. “Just queuing for these eight attractions could drive anyone insane.”
Lu Yiyao pondered for a moment. “We can only hope for the Fast pass.”
The Fast pass allows visitors to experience several attractions without queuing, directly through a fast lane. But each person can only obtain one Fast pass every two hours, and the Fast pass specifies the time slot for the experience.
The good news was, half of the eight required attractions used Fast pass.
The bad news was that the tasks required both team members to experience the attractions together, meaning they couldn’t split up to get Fast passes for different attractions (A and B). They could only get Fast passes together for the same attraction (either A or A, or B or B).
“The longest queue is for Soaring Over the Horizon,” Lu Yiyao recalled from his research.
“Everyone says that the longest queue is for ‘Soaring Over the Horizon’,” Lu Yiyao recalled as he saw Ran Lin studying the list seriously.
Ran Lin nodded, sharing his strategy. “It’s the most popular attraction in the park. Even now, in this cold weather, the queue time is still around two hours, sometimes even up to three hours. Just imagine when the weather gets warmer, and more tourists come…”
Lu Yiyao’s expression was filled with black as he imagined images of surging crowds. “If we queue for it, we won’t get anything else done in the morning.”
Ran Lin folded the list and tucked it back into the passport. “But think about it this way: if we can conquer it in a very short time, we’ll gain a three-hour advantage. Three hours…” Ran Lin looked up, his eyes blazing as he gazed at his teammate, as if to say, “With these three hours, we can win even lying down on the later tasks.”
But Lu Yiyao was too absorbed in his thoughts to notice Ran Lin’s burning gaze.
All he had on his face was a look of hesitation about the uncertain future. “The premise is that we can conquer it quickly. I saw someone say last night that even those who rushed in to get the Fast pass for it as soon as they entered didn’t manage to get it. They were gone in seconds.”
Ran Lin finally gave up on trying to subtly guide with his thoughts and directly grabbed Lu Yiyao’s arm. When Lu Yiyao finally looked over, Ran Lin’s eyes, blazing with intense flames, locked onto his teammate. “If you trust me, as soon as we get in, just follow me and run.”
In the late winter of Shanghai, Lu Yiyao saw his own iron armor burning in his teammate’s fiery gaze.
Why am I thinking of iron armor? Lu Yiyao frowned in confusion.
“Lu Yiyao?” Ran Lin waited for his teammate’s response. Otherwise, the fire in his eyes would extinguish.
Lu Yiyao steadied himself and nodded forcefully. “Okay.”
Ten minutes later, the tourists who had been waiting on Mickey Avenue for a long time finally saw the ropes blocking the way fall down. Without a starter gun, over 70% of the people rushed towards Adventure Isle—where Soaring Over the Horizon was located— in a frenzy.
After entering the park, Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao weren’t at the very front of Mickey Avenue, but they quickly chased up with their unwavering belief and impressive physical strength, reaching the first echelon.
But even this first echelon was astonishingly large, and Lu Yiyao looked up to see a sea of heads.
Finally, a fork in the road appeared. Turning there would lead to the Explorer Canoes!
“That’s also on the list!” Seeing about 20% of the people turn at the fork, Lu Yiyao shouted uncertainly to his teammate, who was a step ahead.
Without looking back and picking up speed, Ran Lin replied, “Don’t worry about it, follow me. Everything else can wait, but there’s only one chance for the ultimate flight!”
Lu Yiyao chose to trust his teammate and endured.
However, temptation seemed to have been prearranged. Just after passing the fork, they saw the Thunder Mountain Rafting. If Lu Yiyao remembered correctly, this attraction on the list also had a long queue, but now there were hardly any people there!
“Soaring Over the Horizon” was still nowhere in sight.
This task was within reach!
“Ran Lin—”
“No!”
“I haven’t even said anything yet!”
“I have eyes on the back of my head—”
“……”
The two, running as if their lives depended on it, were blunt and to the point, their words hitting right at the heart.
In the midst of their brief conversation, they passed by the Rafting. Lu Yiyao regretfully looked back, feeling as if he had missed the entire world.
Suddenly, Lu Yiyao realized something was wrong, as many people around him started running back!
Looking closely, he saw that the left side of the road was fenced off with a long, snake-like queue for the Fast pass self-service area at the end!
“Ran Lin—”
“No!”
“Fast pass—”
“Forget it!”
“……”
What the hell is this!
In the midst of shouting to each other, Lu Yiyao had already reached the entrance of the snaking queue. The reason he felt many people were running back was that the self-service ticket area was near, but the entrance to the snaking queue was further ahead. So, many people who entered the queue had to follow it backwards to reach the ticket area.
Now, 70% of the first echelon chose to get the Fast pass!
The snaking queue was rapidly filling up!
This was the third opportunity Lu Yiyao had seen.
The first was the no-queue fork to Explorer Canoes.
The second was the no-queue entrance to Thunder Mountain Rafting.
The third was the ticket area for the Fast pass for Soaring Over the Horizon, which required queuing but guaranteed a Fast pass.
Once or twice could be ignored, but not the third time!
Lu Yiyao gritted his teeth, skidded to a halt, and was about to turn left.
Ran Lin, as if anticipating this, stopped abruptly and turned back. “You said you’d trust me!”
Lu Yiyao gestured to the big picture. “Everyone is getting Fast passes. We won’t get any if we don’t now!”
Ran Lin was both anxious and angry. “Lu Yiyao!”
Lu Yiyao was also anxious. “Ran Lin!”
Ran Lin: “You are really handsome.”
Lu Yiyao: “…”
Vanity is indeed a fatal weakness!!!
In the latter half, Lu Yiyao no longer hesitated and followed Ran Lin to the end of Adventure Isle to Soaring Over the Horizon. The queue had already formed, but only inside the building, with the extensive outdoor snaking queue area empty.
Without a word, they rushed in and queued up at the end of the line.
This 4D spherical screen viewing experience in a completely enclosed, dark environment didn’t allow the camera to capture much of the guests, so the follow-up crew finally got a brief rest outside.
Fifteen minutes later, the pair settled into their seats.
During this time, Lu Yiyao realized that, with the current queuing situation at the Fast pass area, they wouldn’t get a chance when it was their turn. The Fast passes would be long gone, and the delay would be costly. Hence, Ran Lin’s insistence on running this way.
Like Ran Lin said earlier, there was only one chance to conquer this attraction quickly.
And that was the first moment the park opened!
As the staff checked each guest’s safety belt, Lu Yiyao secretly gave Ran Lin a thumbs up.
Ran Lin, with a face flushed from running, shyly smiled, a stark contrast to the assertive person who earlier claimed to have eyes on the back of his head.
They hadn’t seen the other four companions along the way, and Lu Yiyao didn’t know if they’d run too fiercely and missed them or if the companions had other tactics and choices.
But for now, they had indeed saved at least two hours. And strangely, Lu Yiyao felt a long-lost joy from it. At some point, he forgot they were filming a show and felt like he was back in his childhood, playing games with friends, uncomplicated and pure. Winning and being called the “king” brought immense satisfaction.
A satisfaction hard to come by in adulthood.
So he remembered it until now.
The lights dimmed, the seats slowly rose, and a cool breeze started blowing from an unknown place in the dark.
King Lu suddenly gripped the armrest tightly. As the feeling of emptiness grew under his feet and the screen in front brightened, his palms began to sweat…
It’s just a theme park. Why is the high-altitude visual effect so realistic?
Alright, realism he could handle. He could just close his eyes if needed, but why did the chair have to fly too!
Kinky Thoughts:
I mean, with an alarm tone like that, there’s no question that you’re bent Lu Yiyao.
Kinky Translations 