Chapter 28 Part 1

The live chat scrolled even faster, but the messages were all remarkably similar:

【Ah?】

【Ah?】

……

A string of “Ah?”s and question marks flew by for a good half minute before the comments section erupted into a frenzy of heated discussion:

【Hahaha, I’m dying, I can’t take it—five years of stanning and I’ve never seen anything this hilarious!】

【So Qian Xingzhi is really… showing off that ring with a straight-faced “one punch kills three” expression? He’s really just flexing the ring, right??? Is this even the Qian Xingzhi I know?!?】

【No clue what the Great Film Emperor is up to. Let me check if he took some brand deal.】

【Upstairs, with that level of obliviousness, you’ll never succeed at anything lol.】

【No but seriously, someone dug up footage from his first day of filming— that frame where the camera caught his crotch. His left hand was in his pocket, and you could clearly see the ring’s outline bulging out like a loop!!!】

【OMG sisters if this is legit I’m starting to ship it QAQ I can’t hold back QAQ I’ve been shipping them based on punctuation, post timestamps, addition, subtraction, multiplication, division for years QAQ and now THIS?! QAQ】

【Hehe, true or not, I’m investing in Xing Li Zhi Jian [heart] Waiting for the truth to drop [heart][heart]】

【First, my heart goes out to the clueless investor upstairs. Stock’s gonna crash and halt trading tomorrow, then shatter your dreams [lol]】

【I still think Broccoli feels more real. So sincere, not scripted. Does the uptight Qian Xingzhi dare to try that?】

【Hahaha when you’re old upstairs, I’ll sell you some health supplements.】

【Exactly, use your tiny brain: Does Broccoli match Shen Li age-wise?】

【Broccoli’s only been legal marriage age for 9 months. Yeah, super unlikely.】

【Poll’s live!!! Rush it!!!】

【What’s the voting rule today? [scratch head]】

【Cutoff at 11:59 PM tonight. Tomorrow morning, the top vote-getter gets to move into the cabin. Wrong picks can opt out, of course.】

【AHHH forget the rules sisters!!! Vote this screen-spamming maniac in first!!!】

=

“Little Su Boss, uh, the voting channel opened at 9 AM today, but it seems like…”

Su Xilan’s assistant, Xiao D, bowed his head deferentially as he opened the voting page on his phone and handed it to Su Xilan, who was in the middle of getting his makeup done.

Su Xilan’s brow furrowed, his gloomy gaze flicking over the screen. In an instant, his delicate little face fell, unable to hide a bit of it.

Annoying as hell!

Su Xilan’s pretty little face drooped completely. He rolled his eyes so hard that the makeup artist flinched.

No one in the room dared to speak until Su Xilan jabbed furiously at the “Su Xilan” option on Xiao D’s phone. It wouldn’t select— the interface read “This user has already voted,” and the chosen option was “Qian Xingzhi.” The little tantrum Su Xilan had been holding back all morning finally exploded:

“What the hell?! You—you’ve gone too far this time!”

Su Xilan slammed the table, gripping the phone like he wanted to crush it. His snow-white little face flushed pink in an instant: “Xiao D! If you can’t give me a damn good explanation right now, you’re fired!”

Xiao D grinned awkwardly, trying to appease him: “Aw, Little Su Boss, heh, it was Boss Lou who told me to vote that way…”

—?!

Su Xilan’s expression darkened further.

“Ahem, Boss Lou said not to tell you, but I’ll spill quietly— he posted in the company group, one command and our thousand-plus employees and their families all voted straight for Qian Xingzhi…”

Su Xilan: …

That jerk.

The next second, Su Xilan’s face clouded over. Without a word, he snatched Xiao D’s phone and dialed Lou Wuchen:

“Lou, what the hell do you mean by this?”

Su Xilan’s voice carried a hint of venom. “You promised you wouldn’t interfere with me.”

A light chuckle came from the other end, the indulgent male voice unhurried: “Baby, don’t be mad. Why bother competing with that Qian guy? He wants to remarry. Even if you squeeze in for a day, you’ll get kicked out the next.”

“Why are you like this? Why are you taking his side?”

Su Xilan was incredulous, his words heated: “Even if Qian doesn’t get in today, he only loses a day with Shen Li. But if I miss this, I lose my one shot at ever becoming friends with Shen Li in this lifetime. Don’t you get that? You’ll never get it— that feeling when the person you care about most doesn’t even remember you.”

Silence lingered on the other end for a moment before the coaxing tone softened further.

“Baby, I fought for you, but Qian’s dead set on it. He threatened me with stock prices. I couldn’t do anything…”

“You’re so useless! Why not threaten him back?”

The man’s voice paused for a beat before he sighed. “You don’t understand business. He came to me personally this time. I have to save face for him, or it’ll make things awkward for both families down the line.”

“I get it,” Su Xilan’s tone turned icy. “Go hug your money then. We’re done.”

“Huh?…”

“—I don’t care. I have to do this! Please, just let me handle it!”

“Little Su, be good for a…”

Beep—

Su Xilan hung up woodenly, slapping the phone against Xiao D’s chest with a smack!

Then came a screech—

Su Xilan shoved the chair away with his butt, makeup unfinished, his face eerily grim as he stared into the mirror at his crooked eyebrows. He looked disheveled and miserable, especially paired with today’s nauseatingly green outfit…

Just like a sad little frog.

No one in the room dared provoke this hot-tempered young master. They kept their eyes down and mouths shut.

Su Xilan glared into the mirror coldly for a long while before, like an arrow loosed from a taut bow, he suddenly sprang into action:

He flung open his jewelry case with dramatic flair, dumping out every piece in a clatter.

Without a second glance, he snatched up all the rings.

One, two, three, four, five…

Every finger but the two ring fingers got loaded up— eight rings total, fingers completely stacked!

The makeup artist clamped her lips tight, ducking her head as low as possible to stifle her laughter and save this month’s bonus.

The next moment, Su Xilan— makeup half-done, hair untouched— bolted out the door.

His retreating figure had a touch of grim determination.

He shook off Xiao D and everyone else, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

Half an hour later.

Fan accounts and station sisters posted several shots of “Su Xilan at work.”

It sent ripples through the internet.

The comments exploded:

【OMG Baby looks like a squishy matcha mochi duckling today~】

【I’m laughing my ass off, guys— look at those hands hahaha!】

【Face-slap zoom? Slapping whose face? I won’t say [side-eye]】

【Peak variety show chaos, folks [facepalm]】

【These two are really at war [shattered] Anyone remember the Shen Chuang cpf? [shattered]】

【Omg if I were a real-life cpf for Qian Xingzhi and Su Xilan, I’d be popping out kids and fan edits already.】

【Don’t remind me— real-life shippers have it rough with those steel teeth. Shen Chuang never even hyped a single cp. How do you even ship that?】

【So who’s Shen Li actually with? Now I’m thinking both of them seem so genuine???】

Shen Li sat in the Xitulan Ya Restaurant, blissfully unaware of the online storm.

He’d stayed up all night voice-chatting with Qian Xingzhi and hadn’t slept well. His mood wasn’t wildly turbulent, but something had stirred all the same.

Qian Xingzhi’s voice was still that voice.

Yet his tone and manner felt both familiar and alien.

Qian Xingzhi had changed a lot— or rather, after seven years, it would be strange if he hadn’t.

But people always knew change was normal, yet still secretly hoped that old friends and familiar places retained some tangible echo of the past.

Like when Shen Li had recently returned to his old neighborhood and wandered into a small convenience store he hadn’t seen in ages.

He’d been glad the shop was still there, the owner the same, only to step inside and find everything rearranged: shelves updated and repositioned, the wares all new stock, nothing like seven years ago. Intellectually, he knew turnover was natural and progress good, but the pang of loss was inevitable.

That all-night call left Shen Li unsure if he felt annoyed or fond.

So familiar, yet utterly strange.

Qian Xingzhi seemed like a completely different person.

Shen Li listened as Qian Xingzhi described the rehab center, from planning to execution— flawless, beyond reproach. It had touched him, naturally, but it took a full night, plus reading those two fabricated fanfics fantasizing about their life together, for him to pinpoint that odd sensation.

Perhaps too much time had passed.

Beyond the voice and the original photo, last night’s Qian Xingzhi matched his memories by maybe 20%.

Even realizing Qian wanted to remarry, Shen Li’s instinct was far more avoidance and laziness than anything else.

Seven years on, they weren’t strangers, but everything about them screamed unfamiliarity.

Shen Li took a sip of water, swallowing his jumbled thoughts.

A little past nine, after finishing rehab, the staff escorted him from his room.

Heavy filming lay ahead that day. The Program Group stressed that they needed everyone to stay put that morning while the crew set up the venue for the afternoon tasks and shoots.

So the eight guests trickled through brunch at the Xitulan Ya Restaurant, then gathered in small groups in the living room to chat. No one was allowed to leave all morning.

Over those two hours.

Shen Li sat quietly in a corner of the Xitulan Ya Restaurant, idly watching Ke Jiujiu, Zhao Yunzhi, and Li Weiwei chat. Kris and Lin Xu shared breakfast together, Jiang Nan lounged alone in a hammock chair reading a stack of last year’s Financial Times, and as for Yang Zhiqi—

This guy seemed genuinely off. Ever since the director locked all the doors to prep the afternoon venue, he’d pulled a keychain from his belt and started obsessively picking at them, click click click.

During this time, Ke Jiujiu strolled past Yang Zhiqi from behind, a cup of homemade milk tea in hand, and struck up a casual chat with him.

“Wow, Brother Yang? What are you up to?”

Yang Zhiqi kept his eyes glued to the task, still fiddling with the lock, while explaining to Ke Jiujiu over his shoulder.

“Tsk, you all are taking it so easy—no sense of urgency whatsoever. Haven’t you figured it out? This is an escape room. At midnight, the production team has to have something planned. I’m checking how we can get out of here first.”

?

Ke Jiujiu: ……

Zhao Yunzhi had clearly been watching the scene for a while now. She cast an extremely worried glance their way, apparently hesitating for ages before finally speaking up. “…Y-you, don’t break their lock, okay?”

Yang Zhiqi let out a dismissive “tch” and shot back with disdain. “You don’t know the first thing about this.”

Ke Jiujiu took a sip of her milk tea and smiled, her tone playfully cheeky. “Brother Yang, you’re so prescient and all—don’t forget my two flowers, ha~ Hey? You remember that bet we made yesterday on the balcony, right~?”

Yang Zhiqi finally tore his gaze away and gave Ke Jiujiu a glance. “Tsk, what’s the rush? Yesterday, you said Shen Li and Qian Xingzhi were a pair, and I argued against that, right? So far, they’ve only announced that Shen Li is an ex of one of the observation room guests. No one’s said he’s paired with Qian Xingzhi! Right?”

“Mm-hmm, exactly, exactly.” Ke Jiujiu’s crisp voice bubbled with laughter.

Shen Li was sitting on the sofa with his eyes closed, resting—or nearly asleep.

But his hearing was razor-sharp. It picked up the mention of his name and Qian Xingzhi’s, prompting him to open his eyes and glance over. He exuded an unmistakable “keep your distance” vibe, yet here came several people heading straight toward him.

“Brother Shen~ Want to come chat with us~?”

Ke Jiujiu had switched up her look today—no bow in her hair. She’d simply tied it into a low ponytail, with a few loose strands framing her cheeks. They swayed gently with her steps, bouncing now and then, radiating boundless energy. Seeing no immediate reply from Shen Li, she asked again. “Brother Shen~ Aren’t you bored sitting there all by yourself? We’re about to play some board games. Wanna join us?”

Group chats were the go-to when everyone got bored.

But Shen Li, being a classic introvert, hated joining in unless he had no choice.

“No thanks. You all go ahead—I don’t play much.”

“Okay, but won’t you get bored alone?”

“Nah.”

“Feel left out at all?”

“…No.”

“Oh~ Alright then. Have fun!”