After dinner, Bai Xia walked Ningning slowly back to their cottage. The little boy had lived a very full day — the satisfaction of it was written plainly on his face. He held his little dad's hand and bounced along the path, humming to himself with contentment.
Watching him, Bai Xia felt something settle comfortably in his chest.
He had come into the entertainment industry under difficult circumstances, and there had been stretches where he'd genuinely loved the stage, loved singing, loved creating. But the industry's less pleasant elements were hard to avoid — the manufactured hostility, the calculated sabotage, the people who seemed to derive purpose from pulling others into the same murk they swam in. Bai Xia had experienced that firsthand. By the time Ningning arrived, he'd had very little desire to go back.
A few months ago, his manager Lin Pei had pushed hard for Baby's Growing Diary, and gone so far as to guarantee that this particular director team and producer were people she trusted completely — her own crew. For a child like Ningning, who had grown up without many peers his own age, it seemed like the right fit.
Mr. Shen had added his own encouragement, and between the two of them, Bai Xia had eventually agreed.
Now, watching Ningning bounce along the path in the fading light, he thought: however it turns out, this was worth it.
Back at the cottage, Bai Xia's personal phone rang not long after they arrived. A video call request from Mr. Shen.
Even now, more than three years into their marriage, Bai Xia felt a slight involuntary stiffness whenever it was just the two of them communicating.
He was still composing himself when Ningning heard the ringtone and climbed up, peering at the phone. "Is that Big Dad?"
"It is. Do you want to talk to him?"
"Yes!" Ningning was immediately electric with excitement. In his experience, something enormous had changed recently — his whole life had shifted — and he urgently needed to share all of it with someone who mattered to him. One week felt like a very long time when you were three.
Bai Xia accepted the call. Ningning's face filled the screen before the connection had even stabilized.
"Big Dad!"
The background behind Shen Mingjin was an office. His voice came through low and even — and warmer, through the phone's small speaker.
"Have you been having fun?"
"So much fun, the best fun, there are so many friends and so many games, and I won us lunch!"
Shen Mingjin smiled slightly. "Is that right? Well done, Ningning. Can you hand the phone to Little Dad?"
Ningning was well accustomed to this transition — his brief moment in the spotlight before gracefully stepping aside. He passed the phone over without complaint.
"Mr. Shen," Bai Xia said.
"How has it been? Have you settled in?"
"It's fine. The crew has been very helpful, and Ningning's been easy."
"If anything comes up, tell the director. Or tell me."
"I will."
A pause.
"I'll pick you and Ningning up the day after tomorrow. Wait for me."
"That's not necessary — honestly, you don't have to trouble yourself, just send the driver."
"I want to see you…" A brief pause. "And Ningning."
Faced with anything involving Ningning, Bai Xia was constitutionally incapable of saying no. "Alright. Drive safely."
Ningning, who had been solemnly examining his own toes, looked up.
"Is Big Dad really coming to get us?"
"He really is," Shen Mingjin said. "Make sure you listen to Little Dad. Understood?"
Ningning straightened up to his full height, which was not very much. "I'm always good."
They said their goodbyes and Bai Xia ended the call. Ningning, still buzzing with the news, took quite a while to come down from it — which meant he fell asleep somewhat later than usual.
The third day's schedule was lighter. The focus was on cultural promotion for the village of Y Town: a guided tour of local customs and folk traditions, stopping to try regional specialties along the way, with the production team folding in casual games at intervals. The general mood was easy and unhurried.
Zhou Yu arrived in a carefully assembled look — a full head-to-toe outfit from that season's major labels, accessorized with intention, every piece adding up to something deliberately striking.
It was all part of his plan. His team had already arranged a promotional partnership with a fashion-focused social platform, and throughout the day, styled breakdowns of his outfits would be released in increments — building out the wealthy, leisured young persona. The posts attracted a wave of platform-native users who hadn't been following the show.
Live stream comments: 【That watch alone costs more than a flat in my hometown】
【Why isn't there room in this world for one more rich person — namely me】
【Other celebrities wear gifted items. Zhou Yu actually buys all of this himself】
【That jacket looked like nothing special. Five digits?!】
【As one of his fans, I cannot afford a single thing he's wearing】
【The styling is genuinely so good】
Before his current marriage, Zhou Yu had already been well-versed in industry shortcuts. He hadn't invested much energy in improving his craft — he'd spent his time cultivating connections at social events and looking for faster routes up. After the marriage, with capital behind him, he had become bolder: crowding out rivals through negative press and pulling strings for better billing and resources, all while maintaining the performance of a devoted family man at home.
Watching the first wave of marketing succeed, he moved quickly to the next phase. The audiences drawn in by the fashion content were mostly unfamiliar with the show itself — so the follow-up strategy was tailored accordingly.
By the end of the afternoon's filming, the content pivoted: a side-by-side comparison of Zhou Yu and Bai Xia. He had no particular reason to target Jiang Xingyang — and Lu Cheng wasn't worth the risk. But Bai Xia, and that old shared history from the competition show, made him a convenient and familiar target.
So out it came again — the rumors about Bai Xia's ruinous marriage, this time illustrated through a comparison of what each man was wearing.
Bai Xia's clothes had no visible logos. He wore no jewelry, nothing flashy. After careful analysis by several fashion accounts, the consensus was that his wardrobe was probably modest — many pieces estimated under a thousand yuan per item.
Zhou Yu's third-day outfit: every single piece well above ten thousand. Not counting the limited-edition watches and small accessories. And Qin Siyao's clothes — matching the same labels as her father's, comparably priced.
To support the angle, users circulated clips from their first day filming in their respective homes. Viewers who'd been paying attention noted that Zhou Yu's furniture was largely designer or custom — pieces that ran into the hundreds of thousands.
The contrast was effective. The story wrote itself: Bai Xia, trapped in a bad marriage, quietly struggling — vs. Zhou Yu, living exactly as a man of his position should.
Zhou Yu surveyed the results and felt satisfied.
On the fourth day, the director announced that evening would feature a small variety showcase. Each family needed to prepare at least one performance. They would draw lots to split into two groups for stage setup and ingredient shopping.
The production team would handle most of the logistics — given that children were involved, the families would only be responsible for a few manageable tasks. Combined with rehearsal time, the day was actually quite full.
The draw: Bai Xia and Jiang Xingyang were paired for grocery shopping; Zhou Yu and Lu Cheng were together for setup. The shopping pair set off early to get ahead.
In the car on the way to the market, Jiang Xingyang thought through his own act — something easy, one of his own songs, a quick run-through and it would be ready. What he actually wanted was to leave the real spotlight to Zimo. This was meant to be a children's variety show, after all. But after observing Zimo over the past few days, he suspected the boy might need some careful handling when it came to performing in front of people.
Zimo did have some stage anxiety. He had been trained in singing and dance from a young age, but something about his personality made performing feel uncomfortable in a way that practicing never did.
But this time, something shifted. After a few days with Jiang Xingyang, Zimo did something he almost never allowed himself to do — he made a decision based on what he wanted.
He gathered himself quietly for a moment. Then he turned to Jiang Xingyang.
"Stand-in Dad… can I perform with you?"
"Obviously. Of course you can." Jiang Xingyang didn't hesitate for half a second. "Let's make the best parent-child act this show has ever seen. We'll bring the house down."
Zimo felt something loosen in his chest.
He'd spent these days observing Jiang Xingyang — the easy warmth, the attentiveness that never switched off just because a camera was or wasn't watching, the complete absence of anything that needed to be performed. A person like that was a little like sunlight, Zimo thought. You didn't have to do anything to feel it.
