Chapter 22 Part 2

Besides, if he mentioned the police academy, these ordinary guys would probably lose sleep over their suspicions. Where else could he go to enjoy their hilariously oblivious reactions?

Just then, Ke Jiujiu let out an awkward laugh to break the long, embarrassing silence. “Haha, Baby, you’re so funny—want a piece of sea salt cheesecake? I swear it tastes like something from a Michelin-starred chef. That subtle milk fragrance hits your mouth, nose, and palate just right… Come on, try it?”

Shen Li glanced at her cake, his expression blank as he refused. “No thanks, it won’t fill me up—those fries still good?”

He eyed the untouched fried potatoes in front of her and wanted to swap plates, trading his dish of tiny cakes for hers.

But before he could make the switch, Jiang Nan lobbed another question his way, laced with malice.

“Oh, I’ve been curious since yesterday—what kind of job does Teacher Shen do? Junior high graduation doesn’t leave many options, right? If you can’t say specifics, how about the general field? Or monthly salary? Over 1,800?”

Shen Li had seen through his petty tactics. The numbers he’d mentioned in the bathroom yesterday were now being thrown out deliberately—no surprise there.

Pretty amusing.

With the silver bracelet already prepared, there was no need to get mad at this clown.

But at this point, Shen Li’s face had gone completely cold, matching the man’s true colors.

The corner of his eye flicked up coldly, his gaze carrying a faint, barely perceptible sarcasm, like he was scrutinizing something. It sent a chill down the spine.

“Regular office job, fixed salary. Definitely more than 1,800.”

His voice was flat, as if answering the simplest question imaginable.

Yet his tone carried a clear warning.

The dignified air, uninflected by anger, captivated the viewers even more on camera.

【Baby’s answering so honestly, hahaha, total misfit for the outside world】

【…Who gets it? Shen Li’s responses feel like they come from our world】

【OMG, finally someone said it. They’re talking money without “ten thousand” units. That 1,800 from Jiang Nan had me thinking 18 million at first [big cry]】

【Tired of posers and fakers chatting. Rather watch Shen Li eat】

【Aaaah, I really hope Shen Li hasn’t dated anyone! So annoying, and thinking about those entertainment industry types makes it worse [smile] instantly more annoying [smile]】

【Dreaming of Shen Li kicking everyone to the curb and dating me】

【Look at Shen Li’s face, then check a mirror [smile]】

【Prejudice is a mountain. If Shen Li could date these people, why not me? [meltdown][tears][big cry]】

The comments flew by, reacting to their conversation.

On the live stream screen, Jiang Nan pressed on.

“Oh, and your side hustle income?”

“None,” Shen Li replied flatly to every question. “On call 24/7—where would I find time for a side gig?”

What he said drew from his real experiences across jobs, without exaggeration.

As a detective before, major cases demanded full effort in the golden 48 hours post-incident, working nonstop day and night.

Now as principal, everything revolved around the kids. Village schools weren’t like those in cities or towns—parents chased money and left child-rearing to him. He played both dad and mom. Forget side gigs; even soliciting sponsors required timing around his teachers’ schedules.

But his “24/7 on call” phrasing? One man’s meat is another man’s poison.

Seeing Jiang Nan’s suggestive smirk, Shen Li knew exactly where the man’s mind had gone.

Sure, a kept canary had to wait 24/7 for its owner’s command too, right?

An utterly ordinary sentence had again fueled this guy’s fantasies.

Pathetic.

Shen Li kept his head down, silent for a long moment.

Until Jiang Nan spoke again, dripping sarcasm about how tough 24/7 duty must be—surely because “Sugar Daddy” paid handsomely. Even appreciating the clown show, Shen Li had no interest in watching more.

Jiang Nan’s barb was subtle enough that uninformed viewers wouldn’t catch it, so Shen Li couldn’t call it out directly.

No rush, though. Just steer the topic elsewhere.

Shen Li took a calm sip of tea and cut off Jiang Nan’s nonsense with one sentence.

“Oh, what about Brother Yang? Someone as outstanding as Brother Yang must have side hustles, right?”

At the other end of the table, Yang Zhiqi lit up at the interest in his entrepreneurial tale. His booming voice launched into a full lesson, from side gigs to full business.

Ke Jiujiu, at the far end, giggled nonstop, her wine glass swaying as she chatted across people with Yang Zhiqi in perfect harmony.

Shen Li withdrew completely from the “battlefield” again, silently watching the spectacle.

Soon, Kris recovered too.

In later exchanges, she kept leaning toward Li Weiwei beside her, patting her back affectionately multiple times.

Just like she’d done with Ke Jiujiu yesterday.

Foreigners’ body language was more expressive than locals’, so her exaggerated gestures didn’t seem odd at all.

“Have we covered work enough? How about relationships?”

Kris was unusually “active” today, even pushing the flow herself. Her camera presence shone, but the tension and stiff adaptation showed in her forced topic shifts.

“Sure, let’s talk romance and dating then—”

Yang Zhiqi jumped in eagerly. “I’ll start with Miss Kris. Is the person you married your first love?”

…

The table erupted into lively chatter again, especially on emotional topics that stirred up hormones.

In under fifteen minutes, the hyped-up group started pointing at each other for Truth or Dare-style relationship questions.

Shen Li sat in the corner, quietly finishing the last shrimp dumpling he could reach. His gaze then drifted to the half pitaya used for plating.

The cut fruit flesh still held tiny seeds, sparkling like chips of black obsidian under the room lights.

Qian Xingzhi loved this stuff; Shen Li was indifferent.

…Why think of Xingzhi?

Shen Li’s face darkened as he awkwardly maneuvered his chopsticks toward the round fruit piece. Then Ke Jiujiu flashed a foxy, seductive smile at the camera—and him.

“Ah~ Picking someone~ Such an embarrassing question! Shen Li, Shen Li, your turn! What’s your most sensitive spot?”

The words landed, unleashing an even hotter wave of gasps and sighs.

Shen Li’s chopsticks paused over the pitaya, his brows furrowing slightly. His emotions barely shifted, remaining steady from start to finish.

Rock-solid composure.

Staying true to his roots, true to his mission.

“My most sensitive spot… political stance.”

He set down his chopsticks, shot her a cool sidelong glance with those striking eyes, and fixed Ke Jiujiu with an icy look.

“Really out of questions, huh?”

Ke Jiujiu’s smile froze under his stare. “I don’t see the big deal. We’re all adults who’ve been divorced once. The Qing Dynasty’s long gone!”

Shen Li dropped his chopsticks, elegantly wiped his mouth with a napkin, and spoke gravely. “Oh, I thought even if the Qing Dynasty’s gone, that’s no excuse for you to mistake conservatism for offense.”

The comments exploded anew:

【Aaaah, Baby’s the perfect “don’t start trouble, don’t fear it”! I’m swooning over how cool he is again!!!】

【Shen Li, my mouthpiece! Every line hits perfectly! If it were me, I’d blank and stew all night before thinking of that comeback QAQ】

【His brain moves so fast】

【Not for nothing—quintessential product of our nine-year compulsory education haha】

【Speaking of, Shen Li has to be the real deal wife material, right?】

【No cap, no one in this room matches him】

【What about the observation room? Anyone worthy of Shen Li?】

【Wtf, y’all too deep in Shen Li cam [facepalm]. Live observation room feed is fire too [laugh cry]】

【So many angles at once, missed some. Summary pls?】

【Just now, Su Xilan set his Weibo following list to public view for visitors.】

【Su Xilan is the real deal! He followed a user called “Beware of Telecom Fraud” ten years ago—those in the know get it. It’s that scam alert account!】

【Huh? Who’s that? A cyber cop?】

【It’s the first civilian account the Program Group highlighted when they posted the profile pics. All the other civilians’ Weibos had matching photos, except this “Telecom Fraud” one. Has to be Shen Li’s account.】

【But Su Xilan’s pretty yandere and loves to ham it up. Who knows if it’s real or just an act?】

【You sure it’s an act? If our Broccoli wanted to act, what role couldn’t he nail? Why bother faking it on a variety show?】

【I thought it was just for the show at first, but seeing that follow from ten years back? I’m speechless. Who plants seeds that far ahead?!】

【OMG, I checked it out too—holy crap! How did he follow Shen Li ten years ago?!】

【Gotta be real. Not showbiz fakery.】

“The comment sections are blowing up with questions: is this for the show, or is it real? So, Xi Lan, dare to answer straight up?”

In the live stream observation lounge, today’s host had switched from megastar Yao Shuang to rising idol Liu Jinci.

Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she gazed at the man beside her who had posed the question.

Next to her sat two handsome men. Zhen Tian kept rubbing the rim of his teacup with his fingertip—seven strokes in ten seconds—his stare at the screen intensely affectionate, as if lost in some cherished memory.

Hearing Liu Jinci’s question, he gave a wistful smile and slowly turned to the other man beside him.

Full commitment to the role, and clearly anxious about it.

Su Xilan, meanwhile, lounged quietly in the corner. He’d stayed utterly calm throughout the lunch viewing of the Re-Marriage Cottage footage, right up until his single “Unlocked” comment had sparked a massive uproar.

Now facing the netizens’ doubts, his expression remained utterly serene.

“I’ve been in the industry ten years. Since when have I ever cared about show effects?”

Liu Jinci paused at that, then chuckled. “Fair point. You’ve never done a variety show before—so everyone’s dying to know what breeze blew the two big shots from the Shen Chuang crew into our midst. Xi Lan, you must’ve seen the trending entry on Qian Xingzhi yesterday, right?”

The futuristic sci-fi romance film Shen Chuang had been a groundbreaking hit three years earlier. Its masterful plotting, stunning visuals, and pitch-perfect performances had propelled it onto the world stage.

Qian Xingzhi played the male lead, Qin Lin.

Su Xilan played the male second lead, Lian Xiaoqi.

Their onscreen lovers shared such nuanced chemistry and rich detail that it set the gold standard for domestic pure-love dramas.

Coupled with top-tier storytelling, Shen Chuang swept up best actor and supporting actor awards and nominations at home and abroad in its debut year. Both leads had reaped fame and fortune.

If these two were angling to hype a ship, they’d have a huge domestic and international market.

But no—these were actors who lived for the craft. Despite massive followings, they never marketed themselves, shunned scandals, and even skipped award interviews.

After Shen Chuang’s triumph, Qian Xingzhi vanished from screens for three years, heaven knows what he was up to.

Su Xilan dove straight into his next project without finishing Shen Chuang’s promo tour.

So for two marketing-averse powerhouses—who downright despised the game—to both appear as observation guests on the same romance variety show?

It was hard not to suspect some backroom deal between the Program Group and the Shen Chuang team. How else could they snag these deities?

But.

There was another, even bigger possibility: