Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

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Chapter 32

Huo Yuntao’s return to China was a big deal for Lu Yiyao, even though it wasn’t happening until next year. Lu Yiyao immediately sent a video call request—a face-to-face talk was needed.

In the video, Huo Yuntao was in the living room of his quaint English countryside holiday home, the familiar fireplace visible in the background. Huo Yuntao had the look of a carefree playboy: a straight nose, thin lips, and charming eyes. He appeared to have just taken a bath, wrapped in a luxurious and thick dark blue bathrobe, his hair half-dry, epitomizing the image of a pampered young master.

Lu Yiyao was accustomed to his friend’s perpetual vacation lifestyle. However, his friend frowned and asked, “Did you add more movie stills to your wall?”

Lu Yiyao glanced at the wall behind him, feeling indifferent. “It’s alright, I guess.”

Huo Yuntao was incredulous. “Definitely more. You narcissist.”

Lu Yiyao didn’t dwell on this old topic and got to the point. “Why have you suddenly decided to come back?”

Huo Yuntao looked nonchalant. “Oh, I’m getting married.”

Lu Yiyao was stunned, taking a while to process this bombshell. “You, are, getting, married?!”

“What’s with that expression?” Huo Yuntao looked at the shock in his friend’s eyes speechlessly, as if he had announced he was becoming a monk instead of getting married. “You know I’ve been with Panxi for years. What’s so strange about getting married?”

“It’s not strange for you to marry Panxi, but I thought someone as fun-loving as you wouldn’t consider it until at least thirty…” Lu Yiyao narrowed his eyes skeptically, examining his friend’s frivolous face, then had a sudden realization. “You’re not, are you?”

Huo Yuntao paused, then, understanding his friend’s insinuation, responded in despair. “Drop your wild guesses. Our relationship is pure and profound!”

Lu Yiyao tilted his head in confusion. “Being a father is good news; you don’t need to be secretive about it.”

Huo Yuntao admitted, getting serious. “Her family started arranging blind dates for her because they saw I had no intention of returning. Could I allow that? If I don’t return soon, I’ll lose my wife!”

“Wait.” Lu Yiyao suddenly remembered today was April 1^st and became more cautious. “You’re not fooling me, right?”

Huo Yuntao was serious. “Would I joke about something like this?”

Lu Yiyao stared at him for a long moment, then nodded, indicating he believed him.

Huo Yuntao, feeling scrutinized and even more frustrated since he had to initiate the wedding announcement after waiting three days for a response, lamented, “You’re my best friend, yet you’re the last to know I’m getting married. It’s heartbreaking.”

“I found out a year in advance, and I’m the last one?” Lu Yiyao felt his friend misunderstood the term ‘advance notice’. But then he realized, “How would I know if you don’t tell me? Did you inform everyone else before me?”

“Of course not,” Huo Yuntao declared righteously. “You’re the only one I notified personally!”

“Then I should be the first to know.”

“I posted on Moments three days ago.”

“……”

“Any questions?”

“You win.”

Huo Yuntao held his phone in one hand, gesturing innocently with the other. “It wasn’t April Fool’s Day three days ago, so it can’t be a prank.”

Lu Yiyao nodded, accepting the suddenness of the news, but after thinking it through, he knew his friend never joked about relationships. “But didn’t Panxi consider moving to England before?”

Huo Yuntao sighed sadly. “She’s decided now. She prefers living in China.”

Lu Yiyao smiled gloatingly. “So even you, the infatuated idiot, have to return for career development?”

“What choice do I have? My wife is important.” Huo Yuntao languidly ruffled his hair, then suddenly cried out passionately. “Ah, my surfing, my yacht, my racing car—”

Lu Yiyao laughed until he was out of breath, then found his voice. “It’s not that bad. We have all these in China too.”

“It’s not about the hardware…” Huo Yuntao lamented after his outcry.

Lu Yiyao understood. “Your dad wants you to take over the company?”

Huo Yuntao said, “Being far away meant freedom, but returning under his watchful eye means training for sure.”

Lu Yiyao was silent, offering silent sympathy.

“So, you see,” Huo Yuntao suddenly said, “compared to your dad, he’s actually not bad. Even though he scolds you every time, he still lets you be. If your dad really wanted to stop you, even with my help, your dream of stardom would have been over.”

Lu Yiyao was silent; Huo Yuntao’s blunt truths left no room for argument. Like when Lu Yiyao secretly switched to drama school against his father’s wishes for him to attend Manchester Business School. Besides cutting off his finances, his dad didn’t do much else. In fact, his dad had a hundred ways to stop him, but in the end, he still didn’t finish school, unsure who won that battle.

“What are you thinking about?” Huo Yuntao knew his friend was deep in thought. His friend, aside from being narcissistic, was always full of inner drama.

“It’s strange. Now that I’m somewhat of a star, why don’t I feel like my dreams have come true?” Lu Yiyao had been pondering this question recently but had no one to confide in, until today when Huo Yuntao appeared, giving him a chance to finally talk about it. “Recently, I’ve been so busy that I fainted, completely losing consciousness. It was the first time in my life I had ever fainted, and it really scared me. Waking up in the hospital bed, I wondered, who am I working so hard for? What do I really want, and what am I aiming for?”

Huo Yuntao furrowed his brow, thinking hard before concluding, “You just take life too seriously. Who said people must have a dream? I just live each day happily, not dwelling on the past or future. Is that illegal?”

“You underestimate yourself.” Lu Yiyao looked at his friend with rare admiration. “You’re the one among everyone I know with the clearest and most steadfast goals.”

“What goal? How come I didn’t know about this?”

“To marry Lin Panxi.”

“…Well, that indeed is my dream.”

“And it’s been since elementary school.”

“I can’t be blamed for that; she sat right in front of me, swinging her ponytail in my face every day. You watch that for six years, you’d be hypnotized too.”

Lu Yiyao laughed and teasingly said, “But you’ve been in England for over ten years now. She’s long stopped swinging that ponytail. Why haven’t you let go?”

Huo Yuntao showed a roguish, domineering smirk, lifting his chin. “Too late. She’s swayed my heart.”

Lu Yiyao looked at his friend, apparently carefree but deeply in love, and genuinely remarked, “You’re the one who should be acting, with such rich emotions.”

“No, thanks. I don’t want to fall in love and have an underground affair.” Huo Yuntao firmly refused, and then brought the phone closer, warning with widened eyes. “Alright, I’ve informed you. Remember to prepare a wedding gift. You have a year, and if it’s not something decent, we can’t be friends!”

“I got it. I got it—” Lu Yiyao quickly agreed, not giving his friend a chance to make more unreasonable demands and ended the video call.

After the call with his mischievous friend, Lu Yiyao finally realized that he had forgotten to say congratulations.

Huo Yuntao seemed indifferent, but his joy seemed ready to burst through the screen, and Lu Yiyao could feel it. His friend might be playful and noisy, seemingly not serious about anything, but his love for Lin Panxi was unwavering.

Lu Yiyao had never seen anyone maintain a romance from elementary school into adulthood, enduring over a decade of long-distance relationship, and still end up together.

Huo Yuntao and Lin Panxi did just that.

Their families were close, and their match was suitable, so their relationship didn’t face much opposition. Huo Yuntao’s comment about the Lin Family arranging blind dates was probably just to force him back to China.

Childhood sweethearts, golden boy and jade girl*, perfect harmony, culminating in marriage.

*(金童玉女) Idiom referring to a handsome young man and a beautiful young woman, often with the undertone that they are a perfect match.

Even idol dramas aren’t this sweet.

Lu Yiyao didn’t often check Moments, so missing Huo Yuntao’s post wasn’t surprising. If his friend hadn’t directly informed him today, he probably wouldn’t have known until next year’s wedding.

Exiting the private chat, he went into Moments, not seeing Huo Yuntao’s post first but Ran Lin’s.

The person in the photo was paler and more delicate than he remembered, and perhaps due to the hairstyle, seemed particularly gentle and obedient.

Lu Yiyao resisted the urge to comment and scrolled down to find Huo Yuntao.

Lu Yiyao had many WeChat friends, mostly from the industry. People wanted to add him, and he couldn’t refuse, but after adding them, he usually set up a block due to the somewhat awkward relationships. They could see his Moments, but he wouldn’t see theirs.

As a result, the updates in his Moments were quite limited. After scrolling a bit, he found the short video posted by Huo Yuntao.

The video was brief, but it captured the most exciting moment of Lin Panxi accepting his proposal.

It was unclear from the video whether he had made a quick trip back to China or if she had gone to England, but the man in the video was laughing foolishly, and the woman was tearfully joyful.

Lu Yiyao typed a comment below the video: [Congratulations. Wait for my big gift!]

Having finally sent his well wishes, Lu Yiyao returned to the top of Moments and opened Ran Lin’s photo in full screen.

With the colors more vibrant and the features clearer, Ran Lin’s youthful beauty was more apparent. The natural hair, the distant look in his eyes, created a likable and dazed charm.

Reading the comments, mostly from Xia Xinran, Lu Yiyao smiled upon seeing Leo’s name.

Leo was a well-known stylist in the industry, a nice guy, quite open. Though not officially out, he was almost there and occasionally flirted with male celebrities he liked.

It seemed Xia Xinran wasn’t keen on this.

Lu Yiyao didn’t mind much. He had been pursued by the same sex during his studies in England, but after making clear his straight orientation, the pursuer backed off. So, as long as the other party didn’t cross boundaries, Lu Yiyao respected all orientations.

Xia Xinran was only concerned about the makeup, but Lu Yiyao was curious about the content. The photo clearly showed a makeup room, but he hadn’t heard Ran Lin mentioning any new work recently.

Actually, he had been so busy catching up with previous engagements and worrying about going home that he hadn’t really chatted with these friends lately.

Thinking this, Lu Yiyao straightforwardly asked in the comments: [A new gig?]

Comments in Moments don’t get immediate responses like private chats, and Lu Yiyao didn’t expect an instant reply. Instead, he reopened the photo, appreciating it objectively.

Leo indeed had skills.

During the reality show, everyone was usually disheveled, and Lu Yiyao never thought Ran Lin could be associated with “beautiful”. That word suited Xia Xinran more. As for Ran Lin, he was more about freshness and handsomeness, but if it really came to handsomeness, he couldn’t beat Zhang Beichen, so he could only uniquely claim freshness.

Admittedly, in the male artist circle, truly owning the “fresh and young” charm was rare and Ran Lin’s temperament was indeed unique. But the appeal of “freshness” is limited, and it’s unlikely to be overwhelmingly popular.

However, under Leo’s touch, Ran Lin looked beautiful.

The kind of fresh and clean beauty, even more rare, wasn’t effeminate but rather intelligent and scholarly. In ancient times, he would be a talented scholar or a graceful strategist; in modern times, definitely the school heartthrob and top student.

Lu Yiyao wondered if Leo flirted with Ran Lin.

He didn’t know why he suddenly thought of this, but once he did, he couldn’t stop imagining Ran Lin just smiling it off.

Just a smile and nothing more.

Lu Yiyao was confident in his imagination, as in his experience, Ran Lin almost never lost his temper.

Come to think of it, what would Ran Lin look like when angry? He was genuinely curious…

After a series of random thoughts, he still hadn’t received a reply to his comment.

Lu Yiyao regretted not sending a private message instead, but then thought it would seem strange to suddenly ask about a Moments post after not talking for days.

Lu Yiyao got up and reset the needle on the record player, surrounding the home theater with lazy tunes again.

Settling back into the sofa, he decided to wait patiently.

……

When Ran Lin got home at nine p.m., it was even earlier than when Lu Yiyao got home. At that time, Lu Yiyao hadn’t yet video called Huo Yuntao, nor had he seen the Moments.

Ran Lin was oblivious to all of this.

The only thing he knew was that Wang Xi hadn’t returned to her own home but came to his small apartment instead, along with Liu Wanwan.

Ran Lin didn’t ask, and Liu Wanwan, curious to death, could only follow along.

Finally, the three of them entered Ran Lin’s small living room. Wang Xi asked Liu Wanwan to pour some water and then leisurely sat down on the sofa, patting the space next to her to signal Ran Lin to sit.

Ran Lin said, “I’d rather stand. It feels safer.”

Wang Xi rolled her eyes at him. “Good news!”

Ran Lin sat down next to her, half-believing, half-doubtful.

As soon as he sat down, Wang Xi took out a stack of A4 papers bound together from her bag.

Ran Lin’s eyes brightened immediately, and he blurted out without thinking. “A script?!”

Wang Xi handed the papers to him, correcting him, “To be exact, it’s a script for an audition.”

Reminded by this, Ran Lin realized that the booklet in his hand was quite thin compared to a full script.

But the title on the cover was striking—<Sword of Fallen Flowers>.

Ran Lin couldn’t wait to flip through the script, starting with the plot summary, then quickly moving to the character introductions, and finally, to the actual script. It wasn’t a typical episodic script but rather just three scenes printed out—obviously the content he needed for the audition.

“A wuxia¹ drama?” Even without reading the plot summary in detail, Ran Lin had a good guess. He looked at Wang Xi, not questioning her choice of scripts, just a bit surprised because, in recent years, wuxia dramas hadn’t been very popular, with more investors favoring palace intrigue and xianxia².

¹Genre of Chinese fiction concerning the adventures of martial artists in ancient China.
²A genre of Chinese fantasy heavily inspired by Chinese mythology and influenced by philosophies of Taoism, Chan Buddhism, Chinese martial arts, traditional Chinese medicine, Chinese folk religion, Chinese alchemy, other traditional elements of Chinese culture, and the wuxia genre.

“Any problems?” Seeing his concern, Wang Xi didn’t answer directly but simply raised her eyebrows in question.

Ran Lin quickly shook his head. “Not at all.”

This was the truth. Whether the play was popular or not was the investors’ concern. He was just happy to have a script to work on and wasn’t in a position to be picky.

“This is a rare double male lead drama, a precious opportunity,” Wang Xi said earnestly.

Ran Lin was even more excited and stopped looking at the script, directly asking his manager, “Which role am I auditioning for?”

Wang Xi replied, “The third male lead.”

Ran Lin: “…”

Then why mention the double leads!

Ran Lin’s excitement turned into dismay, having thought he had a stroke of luck landing a lead role.

“Forget the leads.” Wang Xi ruthlessly shattered his illusions, pausing for a moment before adding, “Just focus on doing well in the audition. The outcome isn’t for you to worry about.”

Ran Lin pursed his lips, sensing there was more to her words.

Given his history of unsuccessful auditions, he tentatively asked, “Is this another ‘just for show’ audition?”

Wang Xi was silent for a while before cautiously saying, “The production hasn’t finalized the cast yet. There are a few potential candidates, but nothing is certain. Filming starts in September, and it’s already April; they’re in a hurry. The director hasn’t given the green light yet and wants more auditions, so—” Wang Xi said, fixing her gaze on Ran Lin, “you only have three days. This opportunity is very rare. Even if there’s only a 1% chance, you need to give 200%.”

When Wang Xi emphasized something so seriously, it meant it was very important.

She had said before that if there were more “for show” auditions already decided, they wouldn’t waste time on them. Now, although this role wasn’t predetermined, the chances were slim, yet she still took it so seriously. That only meant one thing—the drama had a bright future and was one of those highly sought-after projects.

Closing the script, Ran Lin looked at the cover again, noticing the small print under the title—

Director: Chen Qizheng

Screenwriter: Song Mang

Ran Lin was shocked.

Chen Qizheng and Song Mang were a golden duo in the film industry. Their wuxia films in recent years had carved out a unique path in the market, each one achieving both box office success and critical acclaim, revitalizing the somewhat stagnant wuxia genre.

Their movies inherited the traditional charm of wuxia but weren’t constrained by it, cleverly incorporating innovation, appealing to the new generation with their blend of poetic style and engaging content, full of swordplay and passionate heroism.

“Is it really Director Chen?” Ran Lin still found it hard to believe. It wasn’t unheard of for famous film directors to turn to TV dramas, but it was rare.

“The investors are going big, so they can even coax gods to descend,” Wang Xi said, taking a big gulp of the water Liu Wanwan had given her, obviously thirsty from the journey.

Liu Wanwan passed the other cup to Ran Lin, who took it but was still immersed in disbelief.

After quenching her thirst, Wang Xi continued, “So, it doesn’t matter if you don’t get selected. Just try to leave an impression on Director Chen; that would be beneficial.”

Ran Lin nodded, taking the advice to heart, then curiously asked his manager, “Are the double leads confirmed?”

Wang Xi frowned, displeased. “You’re not even sure about your role yet, why worry about the leads?”

Ran Lin clammed up, not saying another word.

“Focus on the script for the next three days. Contact me with any questions, got it?”

“Got it.”

Wang Xi nodded, satisfied, and then looked at Liu Wanwan.

The girl quickly and smartly responded, “I’m on call 24/7, ready anytime.”

Wang Xi looked at her for a long moment and sighed. “I should have just gotten a male assistant in the first place. You could have lived together, making it more convenient for care.”

Liu Wanwan was taken aback, almost blurting out “I can live here too,” but fortunately held back at the last moment.

Ran Lin also felt relieved, thinking how troublesome it would be if it were a young male assistant instead.

After much discussion and finally sending Wang Xi and Liu Wanwan away, Ran Lin immediately returned to the living room and started reading the script without delay.

The plot summary of <Sword of Fallen Flowers> wasn’t complicated.

The two male leads, Tang Jingyu and Fang Xian, had very different backgrounds. The former was orphaned at a young age and adopted by the martial arts Fang Clan. The latter was the young master of the Fang Clan. The two, close in age, grew up practicing martial arts together, as close as brothers and partners in mischief.

The “Sword of Fallen Flowers” was the legendary number one sword, with its manual lost twenty years ago and now resurfacing in the martial world. Various forces in the martial world were stirring, sending out people to investigate in Liuma Town, where the manual was rumored to have appeared. The Fang Clan sent their adopted son Tang Jingyu, while Fang Xian volunteered to accompany him.

Throughout their journey, they made friends and enemies. Upon arriving in Liuma Town, a shocking conspiracy that could overturn the martial arts world began to unfold…

The synopsis was always sketched out in the simplest and most direct language.

Even the best writers couldn’t add flourish to a synopsis.

But reading the character profiles made the emotional dimensions of the story clearer—

Tang Jingyu: Orphaned at a young age, he was adopted by the Fang Clan. He regarded Fang Xianqing as a brother, only to later discover their foster father, Fang Huanzhi, was the enemy who had annihilated his family. Seeking revenge, the brothers turned against each other, hurting the ones they loved, until Tang Jingyu had a sudden realization.

Fang Xian: The young master of the Fang Clan, as close as siblings with Tang Jingyu. He stepped back upon learning of Tang Jingyu’s affection for Zhao Buyao. Later, he discovered his biological father was the perpetrator of the Tang Clan massacre, caught between familial love and moral duty.

Zhao Buyao: Daughter of the leader of Liuhua Palace who’s in love with Tang Jingyu. She sees Fang Xian as a brother and is willing to risk everything for love.

Xu Chongfei: Young master of the Jiangnan Hidden Sword Tower. In Liuma Town, during the search for the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual, he became friends with Tang, Fang, and Zhao after a fight. Caught in the middle of Tang and Fang’s feud, Xu Chongfei sacrificed his life for their enlightenment.

Ran Lin was auditioning for Xu Chongfei.

Just from the character profiles, a sense of tragedy was palpable. Reading the detailed biographies and the three scenes, Ran Lin’s eyes had teared up.

He read the few pages over and over for more than two hours. Finally overwhelmed, he lay back on the sofa, sighing at the ceiling. “Does it have to be so pitiful?”

Three scenes: a brotherly fallout, love-induced pain, and dying words; a relentless torment of the character.

Getting up to wash his face in the bathroom, Ran Lin looked at himself in the mirror and suddenly felt that the delicate-looking young man in the reflection couldn’t bear the weighty character of Xu Chongfei, known for his deep sense of loyalty and righteousness.

He appeared too frail, not resembling the self-sacrificing Xu Chongfei but rather like a pampered and indulged young noble. Xu Chongfei was about loyalty and friendship, not about an intimidating appearance or sharp eyes.

Slap, slap—

Ran Lin forcefully slapped his face twice, squinting his eyes slightly, attempting to make his gaze sharper.

No, that’s not right.

Ran Lin shook his head, clearing his vision.

Xu Chongfei, as a character, valued loyalty and friendship. His heroism wasn’t in a fierce appearance or a sharp gaze, but in his profound affection for friends.

Taking a deep breath, Ran Lin paused for a moment, then looked back at the mirror, imagining the person reflected not as himself but as that young master of the Hidden Sword Tower…Fifteen minutes later, Ran Lin left the bathroom, his eyes sore and twitching.

Staring intensely for so long was indeed unhealthy.

Glancing at the clock, it was already past eleven at night.

It had been Ran Lin’s most fulfilling April Fool’s Day: shooting an ad all day and pondering the script all night.

Ran Lin rubbed his still-twitching eyelids and decided to rest first, reminding himself that things must be done step by step, and haste doesn’t bring success.

Returning to the bathroom, Ran Lin quickly showered and then, with his phone in hand, crawled into his still-cold bed.

The breathing light on his phone had been on for who knows how long. Ran Lin checked it and saw, indeed, a red “1” on the upper right corner of the WeChat icon.

It was a private chat from Liu Wanwan sent two hours ago: [You can do it*, Ran Ge!]

*Add Oil expression used as an encouragement and support to a person. It derives from [Jiayou] which is an ubiquitous term for cheering on someone. There’s really no direct translation.

She must have sent it right after leaving.

Ran Lin’s lips curled into a smile as he replied with a cool smoking emoji.

Exiting the private chat, he noticed several new notifications in his friends’ circle.

Ran Lin instinctively thought someone had liked his photos, and indeed, upon checking, found six new notifications—five likes and one comment from Lu Yiyao asking, “A new gig?”

The timing was close to Liu Wanwan’s message. He wondered if the two had planned it.

With no further reply from Liu Wanwan—she was probably asleep—and likely so was Lu Yiyao.

Feeling a bit unclearly disappointed, Ran Lin replied: [Yeah, a shampoo advertisement.]

The response came instantly.

Almost as soon as Ran Lin exited the friends’ circle, a notification appeared.

Ran Lin was startled.

It was unexpected and a bit nerve-wracking.

He hesitantly opened the new message, replying with just one word: [Oh.]

Oh, your head!

Anyone who flirts in the middle of the night and then abruptly stops is bad news!

Without another reply, Ran Lin decisively turned off his phone, huffily turned off the lights, closed his eyes, and banished the disturbing thoughts of the surnamed Lu from his mind, kicking him out of his thoughts entirely!

What Ran Lin didn’t know was that at the same moment he turned off his phone, a new reply appeared in his friends’ circle: [What brand is it? I’ll try it too and see if I can get hair as flowing as yours. 😏]

…..

Lu Yiyao stared at his two replies, having waited for five minutes.

No new activity appeared.

Had Ran Lin fallen asleep?

It seemed unlikely. With his personality, even if he was dead tired, he’d say “Goodnight” before logging off.

But this was a friends’ circle comment, not a private chat, so maybe a “Goodnight” wasn’t necessary.

He decided to wait a bit longer.

Lu Yiyao comforted himself, thinking maybe Ran Lin was typing a long message, hence the slow response.

He should learn to do the same—send an “Oh” or “Mm” to let the other person know he was still there, then say the specific content…

Lu Yiyao lay on the couch in the audio-visual room, waiting for an hour.

He fell asleep with his phone in his arms, not receiving a reply from Ran Lin.

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

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Chapter 31

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cut!”

“Cut!”

“Cut!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ran Lin laughed. “Good luck.”

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

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

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

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

“What happened then? Did they continue shooting?”

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

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

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

Ran Lin had an epiphany.

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

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

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

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

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

As the crew clapped the slate, the shooting began.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cut—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Director He watched her leave, shaking his head helplessly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ran Lin smiled sheepishly.

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

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

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

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

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

Ding—

A WeChat notification sound.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ran Lin replied to the comment: [Leo.]

Xia Xinran replied again: [💦]

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

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

……

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

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

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

But still necessary.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Brother, you don’t love me—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suddenly, a gust of wind blew.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lu Yiyao was puzzled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ding!

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

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

“What’s up?”

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

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

“Zoning out.”

Lu Yiyao told the truth.

“Back home?”

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

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

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

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

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

Huo Yuntao: “Next May!”

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

Having one true friend in life is enough.

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

---

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 30

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

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

Tom Yum Soup.

Thai Curry Shrimp.

Coconut Chicken Soup.

Basil Chicken.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is this coconut soup or coconut chicken?”

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

It was Gu Jie’s turn.

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

“That’s my pick—Basil Chicken!”

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

Simple in appearance yet tantalizing in aroma.

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

Now it was Ran Lin and Han Ze’s turn.

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

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

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

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

Ran Lin announced loudly, “Thai Curry Shrimp!”

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

Zhang Beichen spat out a mouthful of soup.

Gu Jie nearly choked on his rice with laughter.

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

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

Ran Lin slumped onto the table in despair.

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

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

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

Ran Lin: “……”

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

Lu Yiyao, we miss you—

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

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

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

The room lit up, revealing its layout clearly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After a while, the response came—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Han Ze watched him calmly, silent with a smile.

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

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

Ran Lin felt a bit flustered but was mostly relieved.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was mockery.

And it was condescending mockery.

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

Apart from mockery, there was hostility.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ran Lin hesitated before shaking his hand.

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

But the palm was cold.

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

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

……

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the legendary Northern Lights never appeared.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suddenly, Lu Yiyao turned his head.

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

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

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

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

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

He liked Lu Yiyao.

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

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

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

The bands were even in number, ending on straight.

Ran Lin was startled when he realized this.

Not by the result, but by himself.

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

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

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

The man saw him as a friend.

Was he fantasizing about him here?

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

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

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

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

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

And the last one.

The first time seeing such beautiful Northern Lights.

The first time liking such a wonderful person.

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

……

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gu Jie was bewildered.

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

……

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<National First Love Drifting Story> had wrapped up.

---

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 29

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wang Xi rolled her eyes angrily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lu Yiyao was surprised. “Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, Xia Xinran burst out laughing:

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

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

Ran Lin—[Good evening. 😊]

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

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

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

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

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

Lu Yiyao—[Lack of sleep.]

Xia Xinran—[……]

Zhang Beichen—[💦]

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

Lu Yiyao—[I’m full of energy. 😎]

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

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

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

Xia Xinran—[Hahahaha]

Lu Yiyao—[?]

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

Lu Yiyao—[A task?]

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

Xia Xinran—[Hahahaha]

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

Xia Xinran—[I was wrong. 💦]

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

As if he heard his thoughts—

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

Lu Yiyao laughed out loud.

But typing it out automatically muted the onomatopoeia—

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

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

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

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

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

Although this “thought” had no scientific basis.

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

Ran Lin was certainly there.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Applying a face mask.]

[On your hands too?]

[Yeah, hand mask.]

[……]

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

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

[Your fans would cry.]

[My manager would beat me up first.]

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

[Yeah, I’ve started adjusting.]

[That’s good.]

[Any spoilers for tomorrow’s task?]

[What do you think 💀?]

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

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

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

[[A polite and cute smile.jpg]]

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

[gif animation]

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

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

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

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

[Oh, nothing, just asking.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 28

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

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

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

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

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

[Yes, I watched it.]

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

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

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

Why worry about whether someone else is straight or not?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I like that analogy.”

…Narcissists always do!

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

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

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

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

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

“Just do well in each assignment and project.”

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

“Okay, you will definitely become popular.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was a “Good night.”

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

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

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

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

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

Absorbed in thought, Ran Lin accidentally swallowed the toothpaste.

Amidst the tangy taste, he finally made a decision.

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

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

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

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

[Mm.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

First, what brand was Xia Xinran’s sunscreen?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……

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

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

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

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

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

It was a scene of joyful harmony.

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

Strangely, Lu Yiyao was silent all night.

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

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

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

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

[I owe you an apology too.]

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

[No need. It’s all in the past.]

[Still friends?]

[Of course.]

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

[Smart choice. 👍]

[So, really no chance at all?]

[Ironclad straight.]

[That’s what I admire about you…]

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

Everything’s easy once you talk it out.

With open communication, everyone feels comfortable.

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

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

…..

“You’ll die, you know that!?”

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

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

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

“…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His family might have had a similar portrait.

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

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

……

This week, Ran Lin had double joy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The only one left was Lu Yiyao.

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

Knock, knock—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Xia Xinran shook his head, bewildered.

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

The program team hadn’t informed them.

Lu Yiyao hadn’t told him either.

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

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

Ran Lin understood all this logically.

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

---

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 27

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

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

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

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

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

Now, it was finally the third episode.

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

It was a strange and enjoyable experience.

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

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

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

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

Xia Xinran’s unreasonable argument left earthlings defenseless.

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

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

“No.”

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

On TV, Gu Jie found a coconut!

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

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

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

Ran Lin laughed mercilessly at the TV.

No one could hear him anyway.

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

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

Followed by trying to start a fire.

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

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

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

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

What is this!

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

“It’s lit!”

“Hoo—”

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

After all, God forgives the mistakes of little children…

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

Ran Lin on screen asked innocently.

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

The crazy contrast brought a particularly adorable comedic effect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At that time, it was purely admiration and sympathy.

But now… he wasn’t so guilt-free.

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

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

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

Lu Yiyao: “…”

Lu Yiyao: “Are you serious?”

Ran Lin: “Of course I’m joking.”

Lu Yiyao: “…”

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

Ran Lin was utterly charmed by the bewildered Lu Yiyao.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then came the highlight—Truth or Dare.

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

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

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

But there was none of that.

It was simply cut out, clean, and straightforward.

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

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

“Do you believe in love at first sight?”

The sudden question pulled Ran Lin back to the present.

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

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

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

Zhang Beichen had protected himself too well.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But not everyone can be as straightforward as Zhang Beichen.

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

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

But love at first sight?

He didn’t believe in it.

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ran Lin: “…”

Wang Xi: “Are you passively resisting?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The day before the fourth episode’s filming:

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

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

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

The day before the fifth episode’s filming:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But there was also a new post, just two minutes ago—

[I also feel sorry for your blister just like @Ran Lin 😭 😭 But then again, why didn’t you say anything at the time? Did you think you are Captain America or something? 😠 @Lu Yiyao”

Compared to the previous posts tagged with the show’s name and TV station, this one had turned into a casual interaction and teasing among friends, especially evident when compared to the earlier posts—the format was more relaxed and the tone more familiar.

Ran Lin’s heart started beating faster.

Taking a deep breath, he sneakily clicked into Lu Yiyao’s Weibo.

[Shanghai, here I come! #NationalFirstLoveDriftingStory# @XXTV @Gu Jie @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen]

[Of course, a visit to Chengdu must include Wuhou Shrine and Du Fu Thatched Cottage 👐#NationalFirstLoveDriftingStory# @XXTV @Gu Jie @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen]

[Hearing that I’m going to Dubai, my family has already sent me a shopping list and style pictures 🤷 #NationalFirstLoveDriftingStory# @XXTV @Gu Jie @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen]

[[Image] #NationalFirstLoveDriftingStory# @XXTV @Gu Jie @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen]

When Ran Lin saw the third post, he instantly remembered Lu Yiyao’s desolate struggle with packing, which was hilariously pitiful.

Seeing the fourth post, his smile faded a bit, feeling a warmth in his heart.

Clicking on the image in the fourth post again, Ran Lin somewhat understood why Xia Xinran was so frustrated. The photo wasn’t just about being barefaced; due to the angle needed to fit everyone in, the image was somewhat distorted, reducing everyone’s handsomeness by a factor of four. Plus, with everyone laughing unrestrainedly, even Xia Xinran had a rare appearance of a double chin. It was a testament to their friendship that he didn’t throw a metaphorical dagger at Lu Yiyao.

That photo was shared in their WeChat group that night, so everyone had it.

But Ran Lin didn’t expect Lu Yiyao to post it, tagging all four of them.

Although it still looked like a promotional format, he felt that there must be some camaraderie formed over several episodes.

Ran Lin spent more time on Lu Yiyao’s Weibo than on his own or Xia Xinran’s combined.

He was so engrossed that when he finally remembered to go back to his homepage and refreshed it, two new posts with Lu Yiyao’s avatar appeared—

[Is it me you pity, or my blister? 💦 //Xia Xinran: [I also feel sorry for your blister just like @Ran Lin 😭 😭 But then again, why didn’t you say anything at the time? Did you think you are Captain America or something? 😠 @Lu Yiyao]

[Here, let you have a good look [Image] @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen @Gu Jie]

Ran Lin was stunned by the two fresh Weibo posts. Especially the last one, where he was the first to be tagged, different from the usual order. Normally, it would mean Lu Yiyao wasn’t particular about the order, just casually tagging four people, regardless of sequence. But in a more imaginative interpretation, he felt Lu Yiyao really wanted to tag him first, hence only typing “you” instead of “you all” in the original text, and later perhaps thought it was too conspicuous, so he tagged everyone.

Ran Lin was startled by his own thoughts, feeling like he’d go crazy if he continued this way.

Not knowing what to do, he clicked on Lu Yiyao’s picture…

And all thoughts vanished.

It was a close-up photo of a hand with a ruptured blister. The fresh skin underneath streaked with blood, making it truly heart-wrenching to see, and made one want to scold the person who posted it.

Refreshing the homepage again.

Sure enough, one of their friends had already expressed what everyone was thinking—

[Crazy, I just finished my late-night snack!!!! //Lu Yiyao: Here, let you have a good look [Image] @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen @Gu Jie]

Through the phone screen, Ran Lin could imagine Gu Jie’s fiery reaction.

Refreshed again, and Xia Xinran and Zhang Beichen chimed in—

[Do I have company to beat him up? //Crazy, I just finished my late-night snack!!!! //Lu Yiyao: Here, let you have a good look [Image] @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen @Gu Jie]

[😏 //Xia Xinran: Do I have company to beat him up? //Crazy, I just finished my late-night snack!!!! //Lu Yiyao: Here, let you have a good look [Image] @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen @Gu Jie]

Ran Lin couldn’t help his lips curling up and finally decided to contribute to the group’s effort—

[Count me in 🤖 //Zhang Beichen: 😏 //Xia Xinran: Do I have company to beat him up? //Crazy, I just finished my late-night snack!!!! //Lu Yiyao: Here, let you have a good look [Image] @Ran Lin @Xia Xinran @Zhang Beichen @Gu Jie]

The homepage finally calmed down.

The number of new messages had multiplied several times.

Ran Lin didn’t delay any further, took a deep breath, and opened all the new messages—

Muxi Clan Society: [After three episodes, I’ve turned into a fan of yours. Keep it up!]

For You Alone: [Time reveals a person’s heart. You’re truly a warm-hearted man!]

Staying Up Before Exam Watching Variety Show: [Been a fan since the first episode. Idols who love to laugh can’t be bad people!]

Angel’s Little Wings in Summer: [Thank you for choosing Xiaxia’s favorite Black Forest cake ❤️ ❤️]

Lu Manman’s Eternal Heart: [Thank you for accompanying God Lu in fire-making. Being under the sun for hours, even though you blew out the spark of hope in one breath, since God Lu said it’s okay, then it’s okay. I criticized you before, but you did ride God Lu’s coattails. Let’s call it even, from black to fan~]

Heart Flying in Burning Noodles: [I just want to ask those who previously criticized Ran Lin, shouldn’t you come and apologize?]

Beauty Like Jade: [Climbing over the wall to ask, what brand is Xiaxia’s sunscreen? Really want to know 😂]

No More Shopping or I’ll Chop My Hands Off: [Replying to @Beauty Like Jade: I knew I wasn’t the only one curious about the sunscreen! The program’s pixelation was too cruel, torturing my OCD! 🤪 🤪 🤪]

A Man Who Doesn’t Strip: [So is the Green Forest CP over? Why were the last two episodes all about righteous camaraderie? 😭]

My Idol Definitely Doesn’t Weigh 200 Pounds: [What’s the Green Forest CP?]

A Man Who Doesn’t Strip: [Replying to @My Idol Definitely Doesn’t Weigh 200 Pounds: Green (Lu 陆) Forest (Lin 霖)*, you know 😃]

*Clarity: The Lu from (陆) Lu Yiyao and Lin (霖) from Ran Lin doesn’t actually mean Green Forest. This person is referencing Green Forest [Lu Lin] (绿林) which is a homophone [Lu Lin] (陆霖).

No Fun Without Lu: [Replying to @A Man Who Doesn’t Strip: CP fans, get lost! Was about to turn from black to fan, but seeing you guys, I won’t. Forever black for CP shippers!]

My Idol Definitely Doesn’t Weigh 200 Pounds: [Replying to @No Fun Without Lu: No need to get so angry…]

Treasure Green Forest and Nestle in My Heart: [Replying to @No Fun Without Lu: Sorry, didn’t manage well. I’ll take them back to the forums. Please don’t involve the idols. Turn into a fan as you should, muah.]

Wishing Lantern: [I’m a sole fan of Ran Lin and also don’t support CP shipping, but why do I feel a little sorry for the CP fans quietly returning to their corner…]

Wind Blows Clouds Moving the Unmoved Heart: [Anyone with clear eyes can see the main characters’ relationship is getting better. Fans continuing to fight will only be embarrassing.]

Little Fan of Burning Noodle’s House: [Replying to @ Wind Blows Clouds Moving the Unmoved Heart: Right, right, everyone should just support their own favorites. As long as there’s no malice, and the celebrities themselves have a good relationship, it’s all taken as a joke. On the contrary, hurtful words are the worst. Kind words warm for three winters, harsh words chill to the bone.]

Ran Lin felt particularly fond of the ID ” Little Fan of Burning Noodle’s House” as if he had seen it before.

Thinking for a moment, Ran Lin exited Weibo, opened WeChat, and indeed found this ID in the photo shared by Lu Yiyao.

It really was a little fan who had been supporting him all along.

“Good,” Ran Lin announced solemnly to his phone screen. “You’ve successfully caught my attention.”

As soon as he finished speaking, before he could laugh, a new message came from Lu Yiyao.

Ran Lin, staring at Lu Yiyao’s chat window, was startled when the message appeared, feeling as if he’d been caught red-handed.

Lu Yiyao sent another picture, but this time it was just one, without any mosaic, revealing all the details. The moment Ran Lin opened the enlarged image, he was startled by the imposing formation of Yiyao’s fans—

Love Yao for Life: [God Lu, your bewildered expression when Ran Lin asked if you had ever encountered a bear was so adorable!!! So, did you ever encounter a bear while camping? 🐶]

Dreaming of Iceland: [God Lu, did you encounter any bears while camping? 🐶]

Mr. Lotus-Mouthed: [God Lu, did you encounter any bears while camping? 🐶]

Hail Comes Lalala: [God Lu, did you encounter any bears while camping? 🐶]

Black Coffee: [God Lu, did you encounter any bears while camping? 🐶]

……

As the initiator of this question, Ran Lin felt deeply guilty.

But—

The fans, with their devilish charm, had the idol take the blame!

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 26

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.

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 25

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…”

---

Kinky Thoughts:

I would be sniffing all the Birkins.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 24

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 233^rd 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.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 23

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…”

“Wait a minute!” Xia Xinran suddenly interrupted. “We haven’t shouted our slogan yet.”

The director was baffled. “What slogan? Do we have one?”

Lu Yiyao smiled. “We didn’t before, but we do now.”

Without waiting for the director’s reaction, the six put their hands together, one over the other, like team members do before a collective match.

Xia Xinran started, “National First Love Drifting Story—”

Everyone together: “For love and justice!”

Their overlapping hands burst apart, releasing morale and deep camaraderie.

The director, watching, was moved to tears…

Who came up with this slogan!

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