Chapter 30 Part 2

“The scratches at the strawberry garden cold storage door are fresh. You’re the only one here with a titanium alloy watch. That aerospace-grade stuff has a Mohs hardness of 6—plenty to mark up an iron door. And the shoe prints in the strawberry garden? They’ll match yours.”

“You… that’s no proof at all. What about the water-damaged phone, then?”

“Of course it’s forged by you,” Shen Li said flatly. “Next time the production team has you forge evidence, don’t pick something so unreliable—like a broken phone that can’t even be opened. There are no facilities here to fix it, so how could it possibly pass as real evidence? They wouldn’t even choose something like that.”

The moment Shen Li finished speaking, Jiang Nan’s face turned ashen in an instant, as if he had no ground left to stand on.

The Netizen Discussion Zone erupted into a frenzy of excitement.

【Aaaahhhhhh!】

【Holy crap, is it over just like that???】

【Wait, no way, I haven’t even fully figured it out, and Jiang Nan’s already speechless???】

【I’m giving this takedown a 98.4 out of 100—saving 1.6 points for later.】

【Why did the production team give this villain role to an idiot, of all people?】

【Hahaha, I’m dying—this was a total breeze for Shen Li!!!】

【I knew something was off with Jiang Nan the moment he didn’t want to split up and check all eight spots separately!】

【Can they just boot Jiang Nan and YZQ out already? I can’t stand watching them anymore! Get rid of them or I’m done with the show orz, but I can’t quit because of the Emit Cat Great Lord QAQ.】

【Didn’t the official announcement already cover this?】

【What announcement?】

【After all the celeb exes entered the cabin, the new voting lets you pick the guest with “the least chance of remarriage/switching partners”—one per day, and the one with the most votes gets to leave that day.】

【WTF?! YZQ!!! You’re finally on track for a landslide first place!!! I’m buying double votes—gotta take you down on day one!!!】

【I don’t like Jiang Nan or Ke Jiujiu either—let’s vote them both out.】

【QAQ Vote whoever, just please don’t let the celeb stans mess it up and knock out Shen Cat Cat. I rely on those Little Li clips I missed during the day to help me sleep QAQ.】

【Little Li frowning is so hot—I love his serious furrowed-brow face the most [drool].】

【I’m totally addicted to watching Shen Li clap back. Some netizen made a compilation of his roasts from the past few days, and I’ve watched it like twenty times already.】

【Whoa… have you guys seen today’s votes…? It’s so close…】

【Has Qian Xingzhi been gone from the live stream since he left? Is he coming back?】

【Broccoli’s been super quiet today too. With that aggressive push yesterday plus those eight rings from work, I bet he’s out there hustling votes [awkward].】

【So where did those two even go? Off to duke it out offline?】

–

After cracking the puzzle, Shen Li set off from the cabin toward the strawberry patch. A nagging sense of wrongness tugged at him.

They had said so much, yet the System Voice hadn’t chimed in at all.

Even though he was certain he was right—and Jiang Nan’s reaction matched expectations perfectly—the absence of that off-kilter System Voice still felt wrong.

Did it mean the real person voicing the System Voice was actually in the freezer?

Carrying a head full of questions, Shen Li climbed into the Program Group’s electric cart. Everyone except Jiang Nan—who had failed today’s task, earned no pay, and had zero interest in going—hurried off.

When they arrived, Lin Xu took the lead and found a key under a recently moved potted plant. He smoothly unlocked the freezer door—

The next second, a blast of frigid air surged out like a tidal wave, clashing violently against the scorching summer heat outside. Even Shen Li’s breath hitched, his skin tightening instantly.

It was freezing.

The cold rushed into his nostrils and down his throat, sharp with pain, as if it could freeze his lungs solid.

Lin Xu, closest to the door, began shivering, his teeth chattering faintly as his body trembled uncontrollably. “Holy hell? They actually left the cooling on? How many degrees below zero is this?”

“Eek, it’s so cold! I don’t wanna go in, bro~” Ke Jiujiu pressed close to Lin Xu, her voice trailing into a whine.

“Maybe we shouldn’t go in at all,” Yang Zhiqi said. “Seriously, this hot-cold switch could give someone hypothermia. Plus, if we’re right and the butler’s locked in there, it’s probably just a prop anyway—no real need to… Huh?! Shen Li?!”

Shen Li had spotted something—

Despite his bad leg, he darted inside in a flash, swift as a panther.

The other guests froze in shock, hesitating whether to follow, when the camera crew shouldered their gear and huffed after him, plunging into the freezer in the blink of an eye.

Thus.

Half a minute later.

Viewers saw the two camera feeds: shaky, dim shots under black cloth, with shadowy figures bustling about.

In the faint light and clamor, it looked like Shen Li had scooped something up.

Then, finally, the viewers made out what the cameraman said:

“Holy shit, isn’t this supposed to be a prop?!”

“How the hell is he in here?”

“Who is that? There’s actually a real person in the freezer? This isn’t a filming accident, is it…? We’re screwed…”

“Su Xilan…? Holy shit?”

“The Su Xilan we haven’t seen all afternoon?!”

The barrage exploded.

Even non-fans demanded to know how long Su Xilan had been inside and if he was okay.

The feed brightened as the camera followed Shen Li out of the unlit freezer.

Everyone came running.

Shen Li limped slightly, his slender frame cradling a person—

Who clung tightly to Shen Li’s collar, seeming semi-conscious, mumbling something.

No one could make out the words.

Shen Li heard clearly:

“I knew you’d come…”

He wasn’t sure who the man thought he was.

Shen Li didn’t dwell on it. Get him to the cart fast—hospital or whatever.

The next second, a large hand clapped his shoulder from behind:

“Let me take him.”

Shen Li turned in astonishment—

It was a voice he knew all too well.

Sure enough, there stood Qian Xingzhi, fully geared up with a mask and hat.

Wasn’t he recording? How was he here?

Shen Li dropped his gaze for half a second, refusing to push himself. He carefully handed the emaciated Su Xilan—now little more than skin and bones—to Qian Xingzhi. Knowing the cameras were rolling, he didn’t ask questions, treating the man like just another staffer. With a cold face, he told the filming cameraman:

“Stop shooting for now.”

The guy hadn’t recognized Qian Xingzhi either, but now realized this wasn’t the time to film. He quickly panned the lens away.

Thus.

Amid the chaos, the feed cut back to the cabin, where Jiang Nan sat alone in a daze.

Leaving viewers stunned and furious:

【What the hell kind of show is this!?】

【This has to be an accident, right? They actually locked a real person in the freezer? That’s insane!】

【I’m a Su Xilan fan, and I’m calling the cops!!! I’m so pissed!!!】

The Netizen Discussion Zone boiled over.

Yet just three minutes later.

The Program Group’s official Weibo posted a statement.

The observation room responded immediately:

【The Program Group never required artist @SuXilan to enter the freezer for real. At 4:55:18 PM today, Su Xilan entered and hid in the freezer of his own accord for personal reasons, without communicating with any staff. Here’s the footage from surveillance: 】

【Artist @SuXilan is currently unharmed, but due to his reckless actions and complete lack of communication with the Program Group, we may consider terminating our collaboration with him.】

The statement rocked the internet.

Shen Li sat in the staff dormitory, watching Su Xilan bundled in a blanket, sobbing and hiccupping. A surreal sense of unreality washed over him.

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble for the Program Group, I just…” Su Xilan clutched Shen Li’s clothing corner with near-obsessive fervor. “I just wanted you to remember me. Do you? Twelve years ago, in the snow—you saved me.”

Shen Li racked his brain for nearly thirty seconds.

Then he shook his head. “Sorry.”

Su Xilan’s eyes dimmed, hope shattered.

“Can we be friends? I don’t want anything else… I just can’t accept that the most important person to me really doesn’t remember me…”

Despite Su Xilan’s rambling and tear-streaked face.

Shen Li said nothing more, his brow furrowed, gaze icy.

Shen Li could sort of understand now, at least grasping the motive behind Su Xilan’s “performance” yesterday.

But understanding didn’t mean acceptance.

As an ex-cop, Shen Li judged by actions, not intentions. Good motives didn’t excuse absurd behavior or bad outcomes.

Fabricating such an elaborate play and lies to sway votes and manipulate the audience struck Shen Li as unhinged—straight-up histrionic personality, even.

And freezing himself in a freezer for sympathy, ignoring his own safety, all to jog a memory from over a decade ago? That was just plain stupid.

If it were a close friend, Shen Li’s advice would be: Quit work, go to the hospital, and get checked out.

“Will you be my friend, then?”

Su Xilan blinked up at him with big eyes, head tilted in pitiable vulnerability.

His pretty little face was flushed, his chilled red hands tucked away, as if he sought nothing but affirmation from Shen Li.

Shen Li stared at him steadily for a few seconds, then said calmly:

“If I’m being polite, I’d say we’re friends now.”

Su Xilan froze.

He caught the subtext, his heart sinking, lashes fluttering. “…And if you’re not being polite?”

He looked hard to refuse.

Shen Li’s brow creased slightly. In the end, his expression remained impassive. “No.”

Su Xilan: …

Shen Li: “I’m not likely to actually become friends with someone like you.

“My life’s exhausting enough as it is.”

With that, Su Xilan’s hunched shoulders finally slumped.

He was highly sensitive, reading rejection from body language and eyes alone.

Shen Li had been rejecting him since the moment he’d picked him up.

Even braced for refusal, Su Xilan still squeezed his eyes shut in pain, his delicate frame shrinking as if withered.

Like a little rabbit frostbitten and fading fast.

Shen Li gazed at him, a faint reluctance stirring in his heart. Yet he did not waver in his answer or offer any words of comfort.

He simply tugged the blanket a little tighter around Su Xilan.

He thought that Su Xilan was probably still too young.

Just like his own twelve-year-old self had been—or Qian Xingzhi at twenty-seven.

That was why people had to learn it step by step: any emotion carried too far would only inspire fear.

Su Xilan seemed reluctant to let it go. He looked utterly pitiful as he asked, “Then… then what kind of person would you be friends with?”

Shen Li considered the question seriously for a moment before replying, “…Someone mature and steady, with a strong sense of boundaries, I suppose.”

Qian Xingzhi’s eyes dimmed. Crossing his arms, he stared coldly at Su Xilan.

But there was no triumph in his posture.

In a forgotten corner, Qian Xingzhi lowered his gaze as well.