It was undeniable.
The instant Shen Li saw that line, his brain’s CPU stopped processing for three to five seconds.
By the time he realized what the words meant, it was already far too late to manage his expression.
And so, through the livestream camera, every viewer currently watching Shen Li could see—
Shen Li, whose emotions had remained steady all afternoon and who had barely reacted no matter what anyone said, finally showed a clear expression on his face.
He even looked exactly like that golden-shaded kitten meme:
[Huh?]
His big eyes were full of confusion.
Blank. Frozen. Yet lethally adorable.
Only three to five seconds later did his brows suddenly knit together. He drew a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment as though resigning himself to fate.
As if he were still that cool, aloof guy—as long as he kept a straight face, he could remain cold and heartless.
[AAAAAAAH MY GOD! IT’S A KITTEN! Hurry and let me take a hit!]
[I’m dying laughing. The speed at which Shen Li put his cold face back on is hilarious.]
[Wow~ I won’t say who’s enjoying this.]
[I’ll say it, I’ll say it! No matter who Shen Li’s ex is, I, a viewer, am enjoying the hell out of this hahahahaha.]
[Oh my, but doesn’t the production team shut off the livestream at midnight?]
[Fuck, yeah?! Are they not ending the stream anymore?]
At that moment, the director moved the camera even closer to the door, and everyone clearly saw another line of smaller print beneath the first:
[Call equipment will be provided by the production team to ensure call duration. The contents of the call will not be livestreamed. Depending on circumstances, thirty minutes may be recorded as bonus footage and placed in the program’s Extra Content Pack. Fan-club viewers who activate the SVIP 88.88 membership card may enjoy an exclusive first look.]
[Fuck?! You’re screwing with us, production team?!]
[AAAAAAAH why are you doing this?!]
[All I can say is this is shameless money-grubbing. [smile]]
[Great. Did Shen Li know about this segment beforehand? It pisses me off that they created the one segment everyone wants to see and then suddenly make us pay extra for it! If he knew beforehand, I’m starting to suspect he’s a scripted actor.]
[That’s not impossible. Judging from how the show operates, Shen Li is the most likely scripted participant. Think about it: first they find an insanely gorgeous ordinary person, then have him steal the spotlight on day one and establish a persona. Next step, he gets shipped with one of the observation-room guests. In the end the remarriage fails, but they make a fortune.]
[The conspiracy theory upstairs is a bit much, isn’t it? You’ve been watching a completely free livestream. When they sell products and run ads you complain it’s annoying, and now they open an extra-content package and you start whining that an ordinary guest must be scripted. If you don’t have money, don’t buy it.]
[Oh my god, he already has die-hard fans after one day?]
[Here we go again. Walk around the internet carelessly for one second and suddenly someone assigns you to a fandom.]
[Can you all use your brains for once? If they didn’t set it up this way and aired Shen Li’s ex’s unprocessed voice on the livestream, wouldn’t you immediately know who the ex is???]
[Enough, enough. Can everyone stop fighting? What’s real can’t become fake, and what’s fake can’t become real. Time will prove everything. Why are you all in such a hurry?]
Because of those two lines of explanatory fine print, the online comment section immediately descended into a brawl.
Shen Li, however, was inside the situation and had no omniscient viewpoint. Quick-minded as he was, he had not yet considered the audience’s perspective.
He merely swept a faint glance over the smaller line beneath.
Instinctively, he relaxed a little.
—So they were not recording the entire night.
Was the production team worried that Qian Xingzhi talked in his sleep and blew spit bubbles while sleeping?
Why record thirty minutes?
If they absolutely had to perform into a microphone for half an hour without even being given lines, then hopefully…
whatever he and Qian Xingzhi said would at least be fit for human ears.
Shen Li wondered whether he should avoid the cameras later and ask the director whether there was actually a script for this thirty-minute segment.
Before asking, however, he instinctively reasoned it through. If a script were required, the director should have informed them in advance. So the most likely possibility was that they were supposed to improvise, and whether the footage ultimately made it into the bonus package would depend on the production team.
They would probably cut some of the boring parts.
But to put it plainly, it was still a kind of performance to some extent. They had to make sure the bonus footage was watchable.
At the same time, what Shen Li actually wanted to know more was whether this sheet of paper had already been stuck to the back of the room door from the beginning.
Or had the production team only put it there after he chose the room?
Like the rule preventing Jiang Nan from using his phone?
It was perfectly reasonable for the production team to want to milk some extra money from Qian Xingzhi, who drew the most traffic.
But had Qian Xingzhi himself known in advance?
Had Qian Xingzhi even deliberately helped push this arrangement forward?
Shen Li knew perfectly well that obsessing over those questions now had little meaning. He was only a sapper on the chessboard. Even if the general now ordered him to cross the Chu River and Han border, all he needed to do was obey, wade through the water, and step across.
Yet for some reason, he still could not stop himself from guessing at Qian Xingzhi’s thoughts and analyzing Qian Xingzhi, the same way he would analyze a suspect’s motive for committing a crime.
Thinking about it that way…
Was he…
kind of sick too?
Shen Li silently lowered his eyes. His pale lips pressed together slightly in a cool, proud line. Unwilling to show the complicated emotions in his heart, he instinctively turned his face aside to avoid the camera.
And so the sharply defined line of his jaw appeared and disappeared beneath the lens.
Within the warm-toned light and shadow, his entire figure looked like an exquisitely carved silhouette in profile.
Seven parts upright and pure, two parts fragile, and one part faint tenderness so blurred it was almost imperceptible.
“Brother Shen, how’s your room?”
Zhao Yunzhi and Lin Xu had apparently been assigned rooms close to one another. They seemed to have chatted first before coming over together.
Lin Xu greeted him as he spoke and was already about to step into Shen Li’s room, craning his neck to look behind Shen Li’s door.
Shen Li wore the expression of someone spiritually half-dead but physically alive and answered flatly:
“…Ah.”
Then he let go of the door and allowed Lin Xu and Zhao Yunzhi to look.
The instant Lin Xu focused on the paper, he swore and pointed at the door while speaking to Zhao Yunzhi. “Holy fuck! Xiao Zhao?! His is actually the same as yours!”
Shen Li was a little surprised and looked toward Zhao Yunzhi too.
Zhao Yunzhi was smiling as well, but clearly not because she was happy.
She had the gentle, refined appearance of a delicate girl-next-door, but her slightly drooping brows and the crease that had not relaxed between them silently expressed a touch of helplessness.
Fellow sufferers cast adrift by the same fate.
Shen Li thought.
Then, somewhat unexpectedly, Zhao Yunzhi lowered her voice and quietly leaned closer, speaking too softly for the camera to record:
“Brother Shen, I want to wait and see whether, if we aren’t allowed to hang up while sleeping, we can turn the volume down to zero—I mean after we finish recording the thirty minutes of bonus footage.”
A trace of surprise flashed through Shen Li’s eyes, but they quickly returned to calm.
A new idea acquired.
Once he connected with Qian Xingzhi later, perhaps he could discuss whether that would work.
—
Qian Xingzhi was sitting on a stainless-steel bench at the police station.
He wore a baseball cap with an unusually long brim. Half his face was covered by a mask and the other half hidden behind sunglasses, leaving almost no skin exposed, yet somehow he still gave people the impression that he was handsome.
Underneath, he wore a crew-neck white T-shirt, with a black ice-silk short-sleeved notched-lapel blazer thrown over it and left open. His long legs were sheathed in a pair of wide black knee-length shorts, and he sat sprawled grandly across the bench.
The muscles of his straight calves were taut, like two solid pillars planted firmly into the marble floor.
Extremely showy.
And extremely lacking in public manners—because he was taking up two seats by himself.
Yet the man had absolutely no self-awareness.
He kept his head lowered in total immersion. The Bluetooth earbud hanging from his ear buzzed loudly enough to leak sound:
A stream of noisy chatter.
It sounded irritating.
“Yo, Ex-Husband Bro, still haven’t left?” Old Wang from criminal investigation passed by and glanced at the long bench with a grin. “Tsk. Pull your legs in. You’re blocking the way.”
Qian Xingzhi, stretched out like a black panther, immediately tucked both long legs in like a little quail when he heard him and sat properly. “—Brother Wang, you’re on duty today?”
“Working overtime today. Isn’t it because of that big case you brought in?”
Qian Xingzhi pulled down his mask, revealing a brilliant row of white teeth as a show of respect. “Thanks for your hard work, Brother Wang. Serving the people.”
“Cut the wisecracks.”
Old Wang hurried away with a case-file envelope in hand.
The trainee officer following beside him was rather young. Only after they had walked several steps away did he lower his voice and ask, “Who was that? He looks kind of familiar.”
“You’ll know when you need to know. Don’t ask random questions.”
“Oh…”
Once their backs had shrunk completely into the distance, Qian Xingzhi flattened the corner of his mouth and pulled his mask securely back into place.
Beneath the sunglasses, his gaze returned to the privacy-screened display of his phone, while two slender fingers flew across the soft keyboard.
On the green-chat-app conversation screen, the displayed contact name was unmistakably:
Lian Xiaoqi
Yet the chat was filled entirely with green outgoing message bubbles:
12:41
[What the hell are you trying to do?]
[You fucking bastard.]
12:59
[Why are you so damn dramatic?]
13:49
[Did you fucking hear me?!]
[Fuck you.]
14:00
[Su Xilan.]
[You’re dead.]
14:39
[Isn’t the show already in the product-ad segment?]
[Answer me.]
Qian Xingzhi’s cursor was still typing furiously. His messages were becoming increasingly uncivilized, his fingertips practically throwing sparks as he hammered out a three-hit combo of profanity. Su Xilan finally sent one character back:
[?]
Qian Xingzhi: ?
That single question mark instantly sent Qian Xingzhi’s temper soaring. His hand jerked and he hit send, accidentally submitting the half-finished curse still sitting in the input field.
This time, the reply from the other side came just as quickly:
[Why are you barking like a dog?]
[Get one thing straight.]
[He hasn’t been your wife for a long time.]
Short and devastatingly effective.
Qian Xingzhi: .
Qian Xingzhi stood up from the long bench, glanced toward the victim still being interviewed in the questioning room, saw they were still talking, and immediately strode toward the deserted end of the corridor.
He placed a WeChat call directly to Su Xilan.
The ringtone played for more than fifty seconds before the other side finally answered.
The background around Su Xilan was very noisy, and even his own voice was hard to hear clearly, but Qian Xingzhi could still roughly make out the few words he said:
“Keep it short. And don’t waste time talking nonsense, okay?”
The last syllable curled upward playfully.
Qian Xingzhi: …
Qian Xingzhi seemed to draw a deep breath. His tall, broad figure completely swallowed a little succulent on the windowsill beneath his shadow.
His voice was cold and hard. “Why did you say that on the show?”
“Oh?”
The young man’s voice had a sickly sweetness to it, like cloying poison dripping straight into the eardrum. “Of course it’s because I like Shen Li. You couldn’t even tell? You’re so insensitive.”
Qian Xingzhi’s rough voice, nearly at the point of rage, carried thick fury. Every word seemed forcibly squeezed out from the depths of his throat:
“What kind of joke is that? Shen Li is thirteen years older than you. When you met him, weren’t you only twelve?!”
“So what if I was twelve?” Su Xilan laughed softly. “The year I was twelve, he picked me up out of the snow. I was destined never to forget him for the rest of my life.”
“—The clothes he wrapped you in were mine!” Qian Xingzhi finally lost patience. “Get this straight. He helped you because he’s a good person, saw you were pitiful, and was afraid you’d freeze to death. Hmph. Shen Li has saved so many people he might not even remember that incident anymore, understand?”
“Tch. So what?”
Su Xilan laughed on the phone, his tone light and cheerful. “Anyway, someone like you could never understand what it felt like for a child who thought he was about to die in twenty-below-zero snow to open his eyes and see a face so beautiful it looked like a god descending from heaven…”
Qian Xingzhi frowned at how bizarrely he described it. “What did it feel like?”
“Like seeing Mommy. It felt like seeing my mother.”
Qian Xingzhi: .
Insane.
He really could not take it anymore.
Even though Qian Xingzhi kept his voice suppressed, he still roared, “Do I need to remind you that Shen Li is fucking male? If you’re starved for maternal love, go home and find your own mother. Why the hell are you fantasizing about him?!”
Su Xilan’s voice paused for a moment. After a while, he said, “But I haven’t had a mother for a long time.”
Qian Xingzhi: …?
“After my mom died, no one ever spoke to me as gently or patiently as he did again~” Su Xilan sniffed. His voice sounded pitiful. “So I really do think Shen Li… is such a good person. So gentle. I really want him to be my mommy.”
Qian Xingzhi: .
Even back when he and Shen Li were married, Shen Li had still had plenty of admirers, but Qian Xingzhi had never encountered this situation before.
How was there even this type?
Chasing after his wife and demanding his wife become his mother?
Qian Xingzhi genuinely could not understand it.
“So what exactly are you trying to say?”
Judging only from Qian Xingzhi’s voice, he still sounded cold and indifferent, as though none of this concerned him. He even sounded irritable and spectacularly lacking in empathy. “No matter how good Shen Li is, he cannot be an object for you to project your need for maternal love onto. And that performance you put on in front of the audience had absolutely nothing to do with thanking him.”
“Hahaha, exactly. I did it on purpose.” Su Xilan suddenly laughed. “I’m going to walk your road and leave you nowhere to walk—put simply, I’m a solo stan of Shen Li. Got it now?”
Qian Xingzhi: ?
“Whenever I think about him having to put up with you again, my whole body itches with irritation. I feel so awful I can’t even sleep.”
Qian Xingzhi had been holding the phone with the screen pressed against his face.
At that, he actually pulled it away and looked at the screen.
“What’s wrong? Why aren’t you talking?” Su Xilan laughed, his delicate, coquettish voice sweet and cloying. “Triggered? I haven’t even properly started yet and you already can’t take it? Weren’t you pretty fierce when you were cursing me just now~?”
Qian Xingzhi’s fingers flew over the screen. “Wait. I suddenly changed my mind.”
“Hmm?”
Su Xilan responded in confusion.
“I can’t take this anymore. I have to tell Shen Li that someone even sicker than me has appeared—”
Su Xilan: ?
Qian Xingzhi sent the message and gave a cold snort. “Fine. If you want the audience to vote you into the show, then we’ll each rely on our own ability. But I’m telling you—Shen Li hates people with something wrong in their heads like you the most. So now I actually think it would be best for him to meet you. Once he has a comparison, maybe he’ll stop calling only me a ‘pervert.’ He might even start finding me pleasant by comparison.”
Su Xilan: ???
—
Online Comment Section
[Eh? After the product ad ended, Broccoli’s face turned black as the bottom of a pot. What happened to him?]
[Yeah. Logically, shouldn’t he be happy after learning he can connect with Shen Li tonight?]
[Maybe because Shen Li just got assigned to Group B? He feels sorry for Shen Li, so he looks angry?]
[It’s not that bad. At least everyone can participate in this afternoon’s production activity. Yesterday Shen Li didn’t even get to participate at first. Wasn’t that worse? But he still handled it fine.]
[Just because Shen Li is capable doesn’t mean every unfair thing should keep getting dumped on him!]
[Exactly, exactly. It’s way too unfair. There wasn’t even a vote today. They just decided it in a rush.]
[I think it’s okay. That Group A with five people does look like it has a much bigger bonus—100k. If it’s divided evenly that’s 20k per person, which would make anyone jealous. But the work is exhausting too! Cleaning out such a huge fishpond will probably leave them too tired even to eat dinner tonight, right?]
[Yeah, yeah. Shen Li’s job might only pay 5k, but look at him sitting there. He looks so happy.]
[Hahahahaha I saw! That seat looks like it was born for him. He’s ridiculously cute!]
The scorching August sun remained vicious even at three-thirty in the afternoon.
On the screen, Shen Li had already changed into a completely new outfit, with a security-guard cap perched on his head as he sat in a rather exaggerated, half-worn little bear chair—
Sleepy.
Spacing out.
Occasionally swatting at a mosquito that flew onto his face.
Smack! (ｏ‵-′)ノ”
He actually killed one.
Shen Li frowned slightly. From somewhere, he produced a square of tissue and wiped the mosquito corpse—smeared with his own red blood—from the skin of his face. He crumpled the tissue into a ball and tossed it into the trash can. Whoosh. Perfect shot.
Yet after Shen Li sat there frowning and thinking for half a minute, he eventually stood up expressionlessly. Dragging the bad leg that did not work very well, he went to a corner the camera could barely capture, crouched down, and washed his face with the clear stream water.
Three minutes later.
Inside the security booth, Shen Li lowered himself back into the broken little bear chair originally meant for children.
A small patch of skin on his left cheek, where the mosquito had taken a sip, was pink, but Shen Li did not care in the slightest.
He propped his head against the desk with one hand, stared blankly into space, and yawned again. Physiological tears were nearly squeezing out of the corners of his eyes.
Shen Li was genuinely sleepy.
—It was not that he lacked professional dedication or had forgotten the revolutionary spirit and ideological principle of arduous struggle.
This place was simply far, far, far too comfortable. Shady. Quiet. Safe. All he needed to do was sit here without moving and watch a gate that almost nobody would ever enter or leave through, and he could earn the same five-thousand salary those people had nearly worked themselves to death for yesterday.
How could there possibly be such a wonderful job?
Shen Li thought: sure enough, the end point of all striving is a government post, and the end point of a government post is becoming a security guard.
If he had not taken the civil-service exam back then and had simply found a residential complex where he could work as a security guard, would his leg never have broken, would he never have bled, would Qian Xingzhi never have complained that he neglected the family and suddenly asked for a divorce…
At that thought, Shen Li’s unfocused, drowsy eyes finally squeezed out a tiny pearl of moisture. Just as he was about to wipe it away,
he heard an intense argument not far away, and the voices were both familiar and strange:
“I’m not asking anything of you! All I meant was that if we organize these things properly, maybe we’ll get a bigger bonus. What exactly did I say wrong? Why are you suddenly going crazy for no reason?”
Ke Jiujiu’s voice was not as coquettish as usual. A trace of her real voice could be heard, and she sounded genuinely angry.
Lin Xu was not doing any better:
“What do you mean, why am I going crazy?—I told you, stop telling me how to do things! Forget the fact that sorting out this junk might not even get us a bonus. Even if it does, am I supposed to move all these boxes by myself while you stand there directing me?!”
The two of them argued more and more fiercely.
Shen Li stood up from his little bear chair and walked a couple of steps forward.
Then he heard Ke Jiujiu’s voice become choked with tears:
“When did I ever say I was ordering you around? I haven’t even done anything yet and you suddenly cursed me out for no reason!”
Lin Xu looked at her coldly, without a trace of tenderness:
“All you’re good at is talking. Tell me yourself—after you got together with me, wasn’t every single thing in your life done for you by me? Fine, Young Miss Ke. Am I just destined to be your slave? As if you’re the only one who was born with a silver spoon in your mouth!”
…
“—I… I wasn’t.”
The two people who were arguing at full force suddenly heard another voice behind them.
The calm tone did not deliberately flatter them, nor did it contain unnecessary teasing. It merely continued:
“I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth. So how exactly were you planning to organize these boxes, young master and young miss?”
Shen Li’s tone was as flat as water, as though he were merely saying, “It’s so hot. Bring another bowl of herbal tea.”
Clean and refreshing, helplessly calm, and strangely relaxing.
As he spoke, he reached out and started helping organize the wooden crates.
Ke Jiujiu froze, then immediately returned to her usual coquettish tone. She glanced at Shen Li’s leg. “Wow, Brother Shen~ no need, no need. Just go sit down. We can do it ourselves.”
Shen Li did not insist.
He had not wanted to carry them in the first place.
Besides, the actual job of the three security guards was to sit around or patrol occasionally. He had no idea why this person insisted on finding extra work for herself.
He had only stepped in because the two of them were arguing more and more fiercely, like a neighborhood-committee director mediating a quarrel between a young couple. Now that the subject had been successfully diverted, he was ready to sound the gong and withdraw his troops.
—After all, moving boxes from the east courtyard to the west courtyard on their own initiative did not exactly look like something that would earn them a bonus.
This silly child had gone crazy trying to make money, hadn’t she?
So he silently allowed Ke Jiujiu to take the box from him.
Who would have expected Lin Xu to explode again the very next second? His emotions were wildly unstable, like a double-bang firecracker whose fuse had been lit.
“Look at you! You’re always pleasant to other men, always saying nice things, always considerate—what about me?”
Hearing Lin Xu somehow drag him into the argument too, Shen Li developed a headache and took half a step backward.
Ke Jiujiu continued shouting herself hoarse, almost breaking down. “But I’m only polite and nice to other people! When have I ever actually liked anyone else?!”
Shen Li: …
Wait.
That sentence even sounded a little familiar…
“But you talk to him more gently than you talk to me! You’re like this with everyone. You have absolutely no sense of boundaries!”
Lin Xu’s voice was filled with rage. The temper he had been suppressing ever since yesterday’s hunt finally erupted completely.
He looked exactly like Qian Xingzhi used to when his emotions became unstable—holding everything in for a long time before finally exploding.
Ke Jiujiu’s mouth trembled. She burst into aggrieved tears, blinking both eyes as a whole string of huge pearl-like drops fell.
“I’m not filming anymore. I want to be alone.”
With that, she ran off crying, jogging out of camera range.
Shen Li stood where he was with his hands behind his back, brows drawn together. His gaze looked somewhat vacant, but in reality the entire contour of his face had stiffened and sunk.
—Whether because the conflict between the two had erupted too suddenly, or because it reminded him of his own past with Qian Xingzhi, no one knew.
He sighed without saying a word, glanced again at Lin Xu, whose face was red and neck swollen with anger, then walked back to his little bear chair and sat down.
He did not comfort anyone further or say anything polite for appearances’ sake.
He simply sat there quietly, expressionless.
His whole person seemed enveloped in a kind of calm, chaotic sorrow. He barely moved for more than three hours.
From midday until sunset.
As time passed, the brilliant colored sun sank into the mountains. The sky gradually shed its intense colors, replaced by a soft dusk.
Shen Li looked as though he were spacing out,
but in reality his thoughts were a mess.
The conversation between Lin Xu and Ke Jiujiu had been like a fuse, placing the question he had deliberately avoided these past few days nakedly in front of him.
What divorced couple had no problems between them?
What he had to admit was that he and Qian Xingzhi truly had not divorced simply because one person had acted impulsively. Beneath the calm surface of the water lay years upon years of broken stones and rotten mud, together with whirlpool-like emotions. It was impossible to say who was right and who was wrong, or cleanly judge one side against the other.
Shen Li always felt those conflicts were like a small dagger, drawing cut after cut across skin where the callus was thickest. It did not hurt much, but if you looked carefully, even that callus was nearly cut apart.
If they simply ignored it, the next time the spot was rubbed raw, the callus would not disappear. It would only become thicker.
When fear and avoidance took control, Shen Li knew the reason at its core: he was afraid an argument like the one that had just erupted between Ke Jiujiu and Lin Xu would happen again between him and Qian Xingzhi.
Could their relationship withstand being ground down like this again and again?
Shen Li did not have much confidence.
The moment he thought about these somewhat troublesome matters, Shen Li entered a cold-faced standby state.
He was genuinely excellent at sitting still. The only time he moved occasionally was to scratch the spot on his cheek that the mosquito had kissed.
[Oh my god, watching Shen Li work as a security guard is like watching some old guy fish. You just place bets on how many minutes before he scratches again.]
[Sigh. A beauty is pleasing to the eye even when he’s just spacing out.]
[But you really can see it with the naked eye. Kitty has been kind of down all afternoon qwq.]
[Feels like ever since he witnessed that argument, he hasn’t been very smiley-smiley anymore.]
[But what do other people’s domestic problems have to do with him?]
[Hiss… could he still be worrying about having to stay connected on a call while sleeping tonight?]
[If you ask me, the production team is being ridiculous too. They aren’t a lovey-dovey couple currently dating. Why force them to stay on a call?]
[I’ve already decided I’m not buying the extra-content pack. Not because I can’t afford the membership [rose], I just have a very full schedule lately [rose]. Qixi is coming soon. Anyone who doesn’t want to buy a gift for their partner can start a fight now. Send me 88.88 [rose] and I’ll play the mistress.]
[Hahahaha, upstairs, that’s enough!]
[It’s almost seven. Why hasn’t Shen Li gotten off work yet? Lin Xu and Ke Jiujiu already went back.]
[Did nobody tell him?]
[No, the director did. Shen Li himself said he wanted to sit there a little longer.]
[I know! He definitely wants to voluntarily give up tonight’s one-on-one date!]
Shen Li had indeed made up his mind not to compete for tonight’s dating activity.
The butler had created this asset ranking and arranged for the people near the top to receive first priority in inviting others on dates precisely because the show wanted to stir up everyone’s competitive instincts. Ideally, they would create more trouble, so the show could film more conflict and generate more entertainment value.
After all, a livestream variety show differed from a finished, edited variety show, and differed even more from entertainment livestreaming. During very long stretches of time, if no streamer was actively carrying the atmosphere and there was neither conflict nor focus, viewers could easily become bored.
So Shen Li understood, from the production team’s perspective, why they manufactured competition for the sake of broadcast effect.
He simply did not intend to participate himself and wanted to stay far away from it.
Please, please don’t let anyone invite him.
So he might as well go back later. He had no idea whether anyone had saved him dinner, but fortunately he had eaten a lot at lunch. Worst case, he could drink some hot water later.
Night gradually deepened, and the lights in the distant town began to glow.
Nightfall descended slowly across the fields like a massive curtain.
The sky shifted from pale blue to deep blue before finally being soaked in ink. Only the blurred silhouettes of distant mountains remained, looking extraordinarily tranquil beneath the cover of darkness.
Looking toward the town, the new wooden house where they were staying was over there, already blazing with lights.
The surrounding cluster of low buildings stood in neat but irregular rows, like little boxes scattered over the earth.
Shen Li finally rose from the little bear chair and glanced at the strawberry garden he had “guarded” all afternoon.
In reality, there were no strawberries to pick in this season at all. Even if the production team had not bought out the venue, no tourist would pay money just to come look at strawberry leaves.
Everything was only a task.
So Shen Li waited for no one and knew no one would come.
Only the sounds of cicadas and crickets interwove across the fields, carried high and far by the gentle breeze.
“Teacher Shen, are you sure you’re not going back? It’s already eight-thirty.” Xiao Chen, a production director, had just taken a phone call and jogged all the way over to find Shen Li.
Shen Li parted his lips slightly, thought for a moment, then asked, “Am I keeping you from getting off work? If you need to change shifts and rest, then let’s go back. It’s safer for you to finish earlier too.”
Xiao Chen hurriedly waved his hands and lowered his voice to communicate with Shen Li. “No, no, I’m not getting off work. Thank you, Teacher Shen. I live in that cluster of low apartment buildings over there. The production team rented that area too. Aside from you guests, all the staff members live there.”
“Oh. That’s good.”
Shen Li looked over the low buildings once more, then returned his attention and asked, “Then is there any particular reason I have to go back? It’s comfortable here. I want to stay a little longer.”
Xiao Chen smiled, licked his lips, and said, “Uh, actually… someone back at the house wants to invite you on a date. They’re lined up waiting for you…”
Shen Li’s expression did not change. His lips pressed slightly together, and after a long pause he asked, “Can I choose not to go? I don’t really want to.”
“Uh…” Xiao Chen hesitated, then answered, “Theoretically, yes. But all the guests making date invitations today paid an invitation handling fee. In other words, they already spent part of their wages to invite you.”
Shen Li: …
“Can I refund it to them?”
“Yes, but according to the butler System’s rules, you have to pay a six-hundred-yuan cancellation fee on your side and provide an appropriate reason for refusing. Only then can the three thousand they spent on the invitation be returned to the inviter.”
Hearing the rule, Shen Li thought six hundred was only a small amount. Without much hesitation, he told Xiao Chen, “Then please cancel it for me. Can the six hundred just be deducted from my wages?”
Xiao Chen’s expression turned somewhat strange. “Uh, it’s three thousand. Five guests invited you. Are you sure you want to reject every one of them?”
Shen Li: ?
Shen Li’s deep-set brows knitted sharply. His thin lips parted, then pressed tightly together again as he looked at Xiao Chen with open disbelief and suspicion.
Xiao Chen had already handed over the prepared iPad and patiently explained, “Teacher Shen, look. Uh, these are the invitation requests they sent. Five people in total. Each request also includes a one-sentence invitation message. Why don’t you read them first?”
Shen Li: …
Shen Li expressionlessly took the iPad.
[First Letter]
[Sender: Jiang Nan]
[Invitation: The night is beautiful, and so are you beneath it.]
Shen Li frowned and immediately paid six hundred yuan to the System. In the rejection-reason field, he typed two characters’ worth of response:
[Polite reason for refusal: Haha.]
It took Shen Li only five seconds to process the first letter. His finger swept rapidly downward,
almost too quickly for the camera to capture it clearly.
[Second Letter]
[Sender: Yang Zhiqi]
[Invitation: Honestly, I’m very curious who your ex is. Free to chat about it tonight?]
Shen Li: ?
Shen Li frowned. He even suspected Yang Zhiqi might have made a bet with someone and was only inviting him because of that.
But this one was easy to refuse too. Shen Li rapidly tapped out several words and sent them again without hesitation.
[Polite reason for refusal: You’ll know tomorrow or the day after.]
The speed was equally astonishing, so fast that Xiao Chen, watching everything behind him, was already squinting with laughter.
[Third Letter]
[Sender: Zhao Yunzhi]
[Invitation: Thank you for lending me money, Brother Shen. I earned my own money today, so I wanted to return what you lent me yesterday.]
Shen Li’s fingertip paused. He considered his wording before typing.
[Polite reason for refusal: No need to be so formal. Just transfer the 3k directly to me. [honest smile]]
[Fourth Letter]
[Sender: Lin Xu]
[Invitation: I was a little harsh earlier. Sorry, man. It wasn’t aimed at you. Let me treat you to a meal as an apology.]
Shen Li: …
[Polite reason for refusal: No need. I didn’t take it to heart.]
[Fifth Letter]
[Sender: Li Weiwei]
[Invitation: Want to have dinner together? There are some things I want to tell you.]
This time, Shen Li found it a little difficult.
Most of the previous invitations had stated a clear reason or excuse, so Shen Li only needed to reject that premise.
But Li Weiwei’s letter was vague. She only mentioned eating together and “having something to say,” which made it difficult for Shen Li to turn her down directly.
But…
Should he go?
Shen Li looked at the sky and checked the time, then remembered he still had to call Qian Xingzhi tonight. He truly could not summon any desire to socialize. For a complete introvert, socializing with people he barely knew consumed enormous amounts of mental and physical energy.
So better not…
Shen Li hesitated for nearly a full minute before finally writing a proper refusal in the fifth letter’s reason field:
[Polite reason for refusal: Sorry. I’m waiting for someone.]
Then he hit send. The electronic letter was delivered, and all five invitations had been rejected.
Xiao Chen took the iPad back. “Huh? Teacher Shen, when you say you’re waiting for someone…?”
Shen Li’s wording had actually been deliberately vague and could be interpreted in several ways.
For example, he could be waiting for someone else to invite him, or waiting for his ex’s phone call.
But Shen Li did not answer directly. Instead, he gave an ambiguous reply and selected the least likely possible answer. “Ah. I’m waiting for visitors to the strawberry garden—didn’t you say if I work overtime until ten, I get an extra thousand?”
Xiao Chen gave an awkward laugh and said nothing more, though his expression plainly said: Like hell I believe you.
Yet Shen Li truly did sit in the strawberry-garden security booth for more than another hour.
When the hour hand of the broken clock on the wall finally shuffled slowly to ten, Shen Li at last rose again from the little bear chair, removed his security cap, yawned, and prepared to clock out from his security post. Then he heard the sound of a car engine stopping at the gate not far away.
What was that?
Shen Li grabbed his security cap, picked up the flashlight, and walked down from the booth. A white Santana, dirty and battered, its body splattered with mud, had its hazard lights flashing as it sat brazenly in front of the strawberry-garden gate.
Had the car broken down? Run out of fuel? Did they need help?
Without slowing, Shen Li walked toward it. The windows were tinted so dark that he could not see anything inside, so he started circling from the passenger side toward the driver’s side, intending to ask what was wrong—
However.
The moment he reached the front windshield, the headlights let him catch sight of the dark silhouette seated in the driver’s seat.
Shen Li’s heart jumped hard twice. His pupils contracted sharply and his feet froze in place.
The soft rustle of the driver-side window lowering came from inside the car.
Only then did Shen Li recover and hurry toward the driver’s side.
The beam of his long flashlight struck the man’s sunglasses without mercy, even making his mask look half-transparent—
The fully disguised man in the driver’s seat had deliberately arranged himself in the pose of a cool model: high nose bridge, aloof expression…
.
Who else could it possibly be but Qian Xingzhi…
Yet Shen Li truly felt as though someone had clamped a hand around his heart. He even held his breath, lowering his voice almost to nothing while physically blocking the window from the camera that had not even followed them over:
“…What are you doing here?”
“Coming to work. Didn’t you draw that stay-connected-on-a-call thing?”
“So?”
“So my workstation is in that row of residential buildings beside your wooden house.”
As Qian Xingzhi spoke, he rested one arm on the car window and shamelessly looked Shen Li up and down at leisure from behind his sunglasses.
Shen Li’s handsome brows furrowed. “The low buildings are over there.”
“Car’s out of gas. Tsk…”
“Want to try making up another one?”
Shen Li quietly cut him off.
The air fell silent for a moment. Even the wind seemed to stop, leaving only the riotous cry of cicadas.
Qian Xingzhi removed his sunglasses. A pair of bright peach-blossom eyes fixed on Shen Li, looking both madly intense and deeply affectionate.
Shen Li turned his head aside to avoid his gaze. Realizing he sounded too cold, he instinctively softened his tone and asked somewhat stiffly:
“Any other testimony?”
Qian Xingzhi’s voice carried a trace of chill. “Your leg only stopped hurting yesterday, and today you skipped dinner again… I brought you buns.”