Chapter 1

“Mr. Xiao, you’re under arrest.”

The second before the doorbell rang, Xiao Fen lay on the bed, still receiving the message the system left for him.

An hour earlier, he had just completed his 101st infinite flow side quest, helping the Lord God fix bugs in world after world, and finally ushered in his retirement life. He could now pick a book world and live as an ordinary person.

From his experience, ordinary people in xianxia novels, interstellar domination stories, western fantasy tales, or ancient settings had lives worth less than dirt. All sorts of superpowers ran rampant; whenever others did anything, he could only serve as cannon fodder to be slaughtered. Era novels were too harsh with low living standards; doomsday and wasteland stories had even worse environments… After much deliberation, he finally chose this bird-language flower-fragrance, disaster-free little sweet romance as his retirement world.

The protagonist just had a sour-sweet little romance—how much could it affect him?

The sudden bad news caught Xiao Fen off guard.

He hadn’t even seen the protagonist’s face yet, and he had to go to jail first for this original body’s sake.

The Lord God wouldn’t be from Yonghe Palace in his original world, would it? He had wished for a worry-free life in his later years, and now it had directly fast-tracked that for him.

This novel laid-back retirement method was truly unnecessary.

Xiao Fen tugged at the sleep robe slipping off his shoulder, covering the mole at the end of his collarbone, and took the arrest warrant.

In that instant, dozens of ways to evade arrest or clear his name flashed through his mind—except for this possibility.

“A variety show?”

At the apartment door, five or six program crew staff in uniforms stood in an inverted V shape. If he were a native of this world, a close look would reveal subtle differences from official uniforms.

The leader in black removed his sunglasses, his stern face relaxing into a bright smile. “Mr. Xiao, sorry to scare you. Congratulations on being selected as the criminal guest for the No Escape program crew. We’re looking forward to your performance. This is our invitation.”

Xiao Fen stared at the invitation on the arrest warrant, feeling baffled.

He hadn’t had time to receive all of the original body’s memories earlier, but now he recalled: three days ago, the agent had indeed told the original body to sign up for a variety show.

The original body had the same build, looks, and even name as him, but their personalities and fates were worlds apart.

The original body was a student at S University. In his senior year, a photo of him reading by the library window went viral online, turning him into an internet sensation. Not long after, he signed a sellout contract with Lu Entertainment Group.

Once he formally entered the entertainment industry, the company realized he was hopeless at acting, singing, and dancing. His personality was timid and unlikable—honest, dull, and wooden. After over two years since graduation, he scraped by as an 18th-Tier Celeb on his looks alone; even his haters didn’t bother dissing him.

Recently, the higher-ups needed someone to fill a spot on a new variety show. Somehow, the slot landed on Song Hui’s head, and the original body signed up in a daze.

It was obvious this show was no fun.

Xiao Fen was about to refuse when the apartment elevator dinged. Out stepped a man in brown sunglasses, a garish floral shirt in bright red and green, beach pants, and pointed white leather shoes—like a 90s gang member.

Spotting the uniformed crowd at the door, he shoved his sunglasses onto his forehead and hurried over.

“Who are you looking for? Let me tell you, this is where Lu Group artists live. If you want to question someone, you have to go through Boss Lu first. Otherwise, we’ll sue you for damaging the company’s reputation.”

“Hui-ge.”

Amid the cluster of uniforms, a fluffy head poked out from the door, blinking its eyes, with a tuft of hair on top swaying back and forth.

Song Hui darted to the door and blocked Xiao Fen, cursing him in a low voice out of frustration at his incompetence.

“You’re an artist, you know that? How can you be so reckless opening the door? Even one trip for tea would drown you in online spit.”

“At least if people really cursed, it’d be black-red fame too.”

Xiao Fen calmly slapped the invitation against Song Hui’s chest and briefly explained the group’s purpose.

Song Hui’s eyes bulged. “You passed?!”

Seeing the big entourage, he immediately grinned, bowing to usher the program crew into the apartment.

“Little Fen, hurry and bring out some fruit.”

“No need to trouble yourself,” said the producer in charge of Xiao Fen. “The show is on a tight schedule. Within an hour, we need to take the guest to the recording site and start filming right away.”

“I’ll pack.” Without waiting for the program crew to speak, Xiao Fen dragged Song Hui into the room.

“What’s this show about?” Xiao Fen asked.

“Simply put, you play a criminal committing crimes—of course, not real crimes. It depends on how the program crew sets it up. Then it’s a series of pursuits and escapes. Very relaxing.” Song Hui plopped onto the chair by the desk, crossing his legs comfortably and poking a gap between two neat rows of book spines.

“Such a relaxing variety show—why didn’t others go?”

“Isn’t it because everyone else is too busy with scheduling conflicts? Otherwise, how would this good opportunity fall on you?” Song Hui rolled his eyes. “Don’t overthink it. Would I harm you? Insider info: this show is personally overseen by our group’s most esteemed big shot—Boss Lu himself might even join. With your face, you’re totally his type. Climb this branch, and we’ll turn our lives around!”

“Don’t you know why I’m in this mess now?” Xiao Fen was speechless. On closer recall, Song Hui had only taken over from the previous agent two weeks ago.

“How could I not know?” Song Hui said disdainfully. “If I didn’t only have you as an artist right now, I’d have given the slot to someone else ages ago.”

“The boss made this show for romance. It’s not appropriate for me to go.” Xiao Fen had finally merged with the original body’s memories and gained a rough understanding of the current world.

This world’s protagonist gong, Lu Jin, was a playboy sea king. Lately, he’d taken a fancy to the Film Emperor and, jealous over that, wrapped up this entire show—founding the variety program just to create chances to spend time with the Film Emperor.

Who knew what went through Lu Jin’s head? Thinking romance shows screamed ulterior motives, he made a crime show instead, having artists and civilians play criminals.

In all stories, vicious villains had to be ugly, twisted, and repulsive, ultimately defeated by the righteous protagonist. This left criminal roles with very limited room to maneuver.

One wrong word on the show could draw official scrutiny or brainless fans charging in. Say the wrong thing causing bad influence, and it’d be an official notice blacklisting the tainted artist—industry-wide ban.

A show where he played background to the protagonist gong and shou’s romance, with the risk of getting banned if careless—who’d want to go?

“Even if you can’t snag Boss Lu, getting face time with him is good. Build relations, and the higher-ups will pay us more attention.” Song Hui said.

Xiao Fen sat on the bare mattress, hands braced behind him, lazily yawning and tilting his head at him. “I’m socially anxious.”

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling window, casting sparse branch shadows. The ink-green sleep robe’s slit hem draped down, revealing straight, slender calves crossed at the ankles, feet swaying leisurely side to side. Crystal sunlight kissed his pearl-white toes, lighting up the pink tips.

The sleep robe’s style and patterns screamed nouveau riche vibes that only greasy middle-aged men in their forties or fifties would wear. On this obedient face, it instead exuded pure defiance.

“Give this variety show slot to someone else.”

Song Hui twisted his waist sharply, anger shooting to the top of his head. “Give it to someone else? Who do you think you are? You haven’t terminated your contract with the company yet! Whatever the company tells you to do, you do!”

The original body really wasn’t suited for showbiz. He’d previously wanted to terminate, but the contract had over two years left. Leaving meant paying a huge penalty.

Couldn’t afford it, couldn’t leave, plus a pile of debt—the original body buckled under the pressure and swallowed pills. When Xiao Fen woke, the sheets still had his vomited stomach acid.

Xiao Fen had already tossed the bedding and pillows in the trash. Now he said, “Does the company agree to let me leave without penalty if I join this show?”

“You really are dreaming big.”

“Varieties like this are hard to gauge. What if I say something wrong on air and drag the company down? The barefoot aren’t afraid of those wearing shoes—can a giant like Lu Group withstand an official investigation?”

“You’re threatening Lu Group?!” Song Hui blinked in disbelief.

“Help me turn down this variety show.” Xiao Fen raised his gaze, his clear eyes suddenly sharpening.

His eyes were narrow and long, tails upturned in sly fox-like shape. His pupils were naturally deep amber, like special brandy from Cognac—sweet and tipsy, yet spicy. Under the sunlight now, the edges lightened, rimmed in brilliant gold.

Song Hui’s heart jolted. His words tangled, mumbling incoherently two or three times before regaining composure and softening. “Don’t mess around. The program crew is waiting outside for you. This slot took begging grandpa and grandma to get—I scraped it for you. Don’t bite the hand that feeds. The group has tons of obscure stars dying to be green leaves. It’s not like they can’t do without you.”

He smiled obsequiously. “Think of the upsides. We can’t even afford meals now, and you’ve got debts. Join the show—even a one-round tour gets you 50,000 appearance fee. Mosquito legs are still meat. Perform well and…”

“One-round tour is 50,000—what about two episodes?”

“250,000.”

Xiao Fen turned to look at him.

“Three episodes?”

“1.3 million.” Song Hui raised a hand to cut him off. “Don’t even dream. You’re lucky to last one.”

“Appearance fee doubles per extra episode—what if full participation?”

“At least 100 million, up to 500 million.”

“Boss Lu is generous.”

“What are you up to?” Song Hui eyed him suddenly perking up, a bad premonition rising. “Let me tell you, Boss Lu’s temper isn’t great. If you can get on good terms, great. If not, I won’t force you—but don’t do anything stupid.”

“How could I do anything stupid?” Xiao Fen blinked with innocent eyes.

Song Hui choked.

Right—he’d never think this blockhead would do anything. Even center stage, he’d have zero presence.

A total vase.

But he felt today’s Xiao Fen was somehow different, though he couldn’t pinpoint how.

Soon, the program crew knocked, saying time was short.

Xiao Fen changed out of the sleep robe into a simple shirt and casual pants, packing a few outfits.

Most were average quality; the few branded ones were outdated styles.

Song Hui couldn’t go along. At the door, he still nagged, “Keep your wits about you, don’t get schemed against. Be good, don’t stir trouble, don’t mess up. I’ll pick you up after one episode.”

“What about my debts?”

“There’s always a way.”

Xiao Fen neither confirmed nor denied, wheeling his suitcase out without looking back. He waved casually at the man behind him, cutting off Song Hui’s mother-hen ramble.

500 million—this gig paid better than anything else.

Finish this job and retire!