Chapter 29
After delivering the buns to Teacher Zhang and heading back, Meng Xueyuan ran into Jiang Xunbai and Wang Changyi, who were strolling together through the hills and along the sea.
Each group of guests had a dedicated follow-cam, with five separate livestreams when they acted independently; when the director gathered everyone, they switched to the program’s main livestream to concentrate traffic.
From afar, Meng Xueyuan could tell the little couple were exchanging sweet nothings—not a good moment to pass by, lest the livestream chat explode. He had no idea why Snow Night and Changjiang CP fans had ended up locking horns like this.
He changed direction, intending to take a shortcut, but Jiang Xunbai spotted him and called out, “Meng Xueyuan, where are you going?”
Jiang Xunbai didn’t see Lu Xiao behind Meng Xueyuan and found it rather strange.
Meng Xueyuan told the truth: “Lu Xiao steamed some buns and wanted to ask if you wanted any. He saw you were chatting and didn’t want to interrupt.”
He wasn’t deliberately trying to project a generous image—that really was what he thought. Lu Xiao had said he bought extra flour precisely because he expected to share. If you were going to share, it was best to be even-handed, so as not to mishandle temporary coworker relationships, cause friction midway, and affect the variety show experience.
After the last incident where Yao Quan and Liu Qingqing stirred things up, Meng Xueyuan could tell that Lu Xiao had been very unhappy.
“Buns? Thanks, but we just finished eating—we can’t fit any more,” Jiang Xunbai replied without much enthusiasm. When their group had gone shopping, Wang Changyi had taken mostly frozen buns along with rice and millet, saying it was a chance to help him nurse his stomach. Dinner had been nothing but plain porridge and buns.
Meng Xueyuan said, “Then keep browsing. I’ll head back.”
Curious, Jiang Xunbai asked, “Did you come out alone? Didn’t Lu Xiao come with you?”
“He’s still busy with something else,” Meng Xueyuan replied.
“Such a beautiful sunset over the sea, and he’s not watching it with you?” Jiang Xunbai said. “Changyi said he had to watch it with me to his heart’s content.”
Only then did Meng Xueyuan realize how beautiful the sunset was today. “We’ll watch it tomorrow.”
They parted ways. Jiang Xunbai wandered around a bit more when suddenly he caught a whiff of fried sesame dumplings.
Seeing that Wang Changyi was filming the sunset, he followed the aroma and eventually discovered it was coming from the kitchen window of Meng Xueyuan’s place.
On the island, the kitchens in these houses were all built as an extra room attached to the side of the main house, semi-open. Inside was a traditional stove. With strong sea winds, power outages were common, so a stove that could burn fuel was essential.
So Lu Xiao hadn’t gone out with Meng Xueyuan to watch the sunset because he hadn’t just steamed buns—he’d also fried sesame balls.
The glutinous rice balls, rolled in white sesame seeds, slowly puffed up in the hot oil, turning a crispy golden color as the sesame fragrance spread. Lu Xiao scooped the finished balls out with a slotted spoon.
The crispy sesame balls hit the bottom of the basin with a sharp sizzle. The crunchy, sesame-coated crust dented slightly.
Jiang Xunbai swallowed. He had originally planned to cook something with Wang Changyi that evening, but Wang Changyi had said the sunset was too beautiful and wanted to watch it hand in hand with him. So they had hurriedly steamed some buns and gone out.
The frozen buns from the supermarket tasted pretty average. Jiang Xunbai felt a bit regretful for having turned down Meng Xueyuan’s offer.
Meng Xueyuan handed Jiang Xunbai a sesame ball. “Sorry—Lu Xiao only made three.”
In fact, there were four, but Lu Xiao had a big appetite. Meng Xueyuan figured he could eat two himself. And besides, Jiang Xunbai’s boyfriend wasn’t around—why bother being perfectly fair?
“Thanks,” Jiang Xunbai said. He took a bite—so good it was explosive. Tomorrow morning, he decided, he’d try making a dessert too.
…
Meng Xueyuan and Lu Xiao cleaned up the kitchen together, putting the seasonings back into the fridge. The kitchen door didn’t close tightly, and these portioned seasonings were left open; they were worried that mice or cockroaches might get into them at night.
After a long day, Meng Xueyuan planned to take a shower. But ever since Lu Xiao had said, “I’ll scrub you,” he felt too embarrassed to turn off the camera and announce that he was going to bathe.
Netizens would definitely say they went to shower together!
At eight in the evening, the cameramen clocked off, leaving only the fixed cameras mounted on the walls.
Meng Xueyuan sat on the edge of the bed playing with his phone, sneaking three glances at the camera out of the corner of his eye.
After checking the doors and windows, Lu Xiao stepped in, stood in front of the camera, and directly said, “Time to rest,” then pulled the plug and cut the power.
Lu Xiao was really decisive!
Meng Xueyuan shot up, grabbed his pajamas, and went into the bathroom. Lu Xiao followed him in.
Meng Xueyuan’s face immediately flushed red. “Why did you come in? We agreed we can’t do that during the show.”
Lu Xiao caught his hand, pressing into Meng Xueyuan’s soft fingertips like he was squeezing a stress toy, pressing each finger one by one. Then he flipped his hand and pinned it against the wall, saying leisurely, “With skin this delicate, when are you ever going to rinse clean on your own?”
If you couldn’t work up a good lather, it wasn’t easy to rinse clean—but Meng Xueyuan showered every day. Today he could skip the soap and just rinse with water.
“I’m not using soap today.”
Lu Xiao put on a stern face. “No.”
Meng Xueyuan wasn’t afraid of him. “Go out.”
“I’ll just scrub your back. Nothing else,” Lu Xiao said.
…
Wrapped in his bathrobe, cheeks flushed pink, Meng Xueyuan returned to the bed. Lu Xiao still hadn’t finished showering.
It really had been a very proper back-scrubbing—if not for Lu Xiao suggesting he place his foot in Lu Xiao’s palm so it’d be easier to lather his calves.
—If you don’t lift your leg, do you expect me to lie on the floor to wash your feet?
Meng Xueyuan buried his head in the bed. But with that posture, Lu Xiao still had to kneel anyway. Really—he could’ve just skipped washing altogether.
Early the next morning, as soon as Meng Xueyuan opened his eyes, he found the spot beside him had been empty for quite some time, and the sounds of cooking were coming from the kitchen.
As a proud member of the “early to bed, early to rise, diligent worker bee” club, Meng Xueyuan felt he was already very hardworking—but Lu Xiao was always up earlier and even more industrious.
Lu Xiao had made red bean tangyuan porridge for breakfast, reheated the two leftover buns from last night, juiced some carrots, and prepared two boiled eggs.
Meng Xueyuan sat at the table and picked up a bun first, pairing it with big mouthfuls of red bean porridge. He was harboring a small scheme to dodge the boiled egg—if he filled up first, surely Lu Xiao would be too embarrassed to force him to eat another egg.
But Lu Xiao didn’t let him off. He peeled the egg for him, took the bun out of his hand, and stuffed the egg into it. “Eat this first.”
Meng Xueyuan shot him a cool glance. Ever since the time Lu Xiao had picked up condoms at the supermarket, Meng Xueyuan had glared at him once and realized this look was quite effective.
—It wasn’t.
“You can still have it with porridge now,” Lu Xiao said. “Later you’ll be eating it dry.”
Left with no choice, Meng Xueyuan lowered his head and bit into the egg.
A broadcast announcement sounded at the village entrance, reminding all the guests to wear the straw hats from yesterday.
Meng Xueyuan put on his straw hat and looked around from the center of the grounds. Everyone else’s hat was crooked or askew; only his and Lu Xiao’s sat perfectly straight, as if they’d cheated somehow.
Jiang Xunbai’s straw hat was caught by the sea breeze; the bamboo leaves that hadn’t been tied down properly fluttered up, looking even more shabby than the ones worn by abandoned scarecrows in the fields.
Jiang Xunbai sidled up to Meng Xueyuan and asked, “What did you have for breakfast?”
“Red bean porridge, buns, carrot juice, and eggs,” Meng Xueyuan replied.
“What about lunch?” Jiang Xunbai asked.
Meng Xueyuan was a little puzzled—was Jiang Xunbai just looking for menu inspiration, or angling for a meal invite?
He didn’t think too much about it. Lu Xiao, on the other hand, seriously rattled off the lunch dishes, rewarding Meng Xueyuan for finishing a boiled egg.
“Dry-pot cabbage, braised pork, and boiled napa cabbage,” Lu Xiao said. The napa cabbage only needed to be boiled and could be dipped in the sauce from the braised pork. The pork would be made with rock sugar as the base, slightly sweet—just the way Meng Xueyuan liked it.
Lu Xiao also added that if the production team had any sense, today’s task rewards ought to include seafood; he’d deliberately left one soup undecided.
“Do you want to come eat with us?” Meng Xueyuan asked.
“No need. You don’t have that many ingredients either,” Jiang Xunbai said.
This was the group livestream, and the barrage of comments was chaotic—every couple had their share.
[Guess I’m making braised pork with Lu Xiao now.]
[I don’t get it—why is Jiang Xunbai so concerned about what our Xueye couple eats?]
[Anyone who watched the Jiang–Wang livestream this morning knows: Jiang Xunbai said last night he wanted to make pan-fried dumplings himself, but this morning Wang Changyi dragged him to the balcony to whisper corny love lines, they missed the timing, and then the director called everyone to assemble. Didn’t get to eat.]
[Jiang Xunbai had buns again this morning. He should just go to Meng Xueyuan’s place and watch a mukbang—look how jealous he is.]
[Wang Changyi is all sweet talk. Swore he’d definitely let his baby eat pan-fried dumplings, then used another round of sweet talk to stall for time. Serial offender.]
[The oil in their house hasn’t even been used. A cockroach crawled over it last night—bet Wang Changyi was secretly happy he won’t have to stir-fry anymore.]
[Which eye did you see Wang Changyi being happy with? He’s smart. He comforted Baibai, saying the production team wouldn’t just let them go vegetarian—there’d definitely be tasks with rewards, and when the time came he’d brave fire and brimstone.]
[Now I finally know what “being shown up by comparison” means. Look at Lu Xiao—harsh conditions and he still makes sure his wife eats well every meal.]
[The esports group eats instant noodles and buns too, and they’re happy as can be. Jiang Xunbai’s just being picky.]
[You can even ship coworkers cooking together? You might as well watch a cooking show!]
[As a passerby, at this point I can’t tell real couples from promo ones anymore.]
[Passerby +1. If this were a “guess which couple is fake” show, I’d actually have some ideas.]
[LMAO, if it were “guess which couple is the only real one,” I’d have some ideas too. Director, do you have any ideas?]
The director assessed everyone’s straw hats and, against his conscience, said, “Everyone put in a lot of effort. Each group will be rewarded with a set of oil, salt, soy sauce, and vinegar, plus a bag of rice.”
Once again—sponsor-provided prizes.
Lu Xiao didn’t look too pleased. What was the point of rewarding such useless stuff? Where was the seafood? His wife needed sea cucumber and abalone soup for lunch.
[Director, you’ve really got nerves—still no seafood!]
[Look at Brother Lu’s expression.]
[The director’s pretty bold—guess as long as the guests don’t starve it’s fine lol.]
[Honestly jealous of Meng Xueyuan.]
Seeing what looked like black fumes rising over Lu Xiao’s head, Meng Xueyuan then heard the director add that everyone shouldn’t worry—new task rewards were coming!
Meng Xueyuan listened attentively.
The director suddenly went sentimental: “Married life inevitably has its bumps. Sometimes it feels like love gets worn away by daily necessities. At times like this, we should look more at our partner’s strengths and rediscover the shining points we first admired…”
Staff handed out whiteboards and permanent markers to the guests.
“Next is a small game. Each round, write down one advantage your partner has that surpasses everyone else present. If no one objects, you advance. If someone objects, it’s a PK and elimination. Those who remain to the end will receive 4 sets, 3 sets, 2 sets, and 1 set of bedding respectively.”
“Everyone, please think carefully about your partner’s strengths! No repeats allowed.”
The seaside air was humid; changing bedding once a day was more comfortable. No wonder there hadn’t been extra bedding in the wardrobes—the director was really sly.
Meng Xueyuan really wanted it. Lu Xiao liked to hold him while sleeping, and he always ended up sweating; even the quilt would get damp.
[Am I just dirty-minded, or does this segment kind of reveal who has the most sex at night?]
[I’m just watching to see who’s the most competitive.]
The first round wasn’t difficult; most answers were profession-related.
Zhang Jinhe said his wife could play the flute. Mrs. Zhang said her husband’s Mandarin was standard.
Li Fei said Ouyang Lai had amazing dynamic vision when gaming. Ouyang Lai said Li Fei had the fastest instantaneous hand speed.
Jiang Weina’s husband said Nana’s acting was good. Jiang Weina said her husband was broad-minded and plump.
Wang Changyi said Jiang Xunbai’s crying scenes were unmatched. Jiang Xunbai said Wang Changyi dared to skydive.
Lu Xiao unapologetically wrote down Meng Xueyuan’s beauty. Meng Xueyuan wrote that Lu Xiao could man the stove at a wedding banquet, thinking to himself that Lu Xiao could also skydive—but there was no need to eliminate anyone in the first round.
[The esports group is seriously cheating—just list every game on the market. World champions, who dares mess with them?]
[Lu Xiao, you…]
[Facts.]
Meng Xueyuan looked up at the sky, not daring to look at Lu Xiao’s whiteboard. He actually hoped Lu Xiao would get eliminated quickly—otherwise who knew how many shameless words he’d have to write.
Anyway, Lu Xiao had so many strengths. As long as he himself made it to the end and won four sets of bedding, that’d be enough. Oh—actually, he might not beat the esports group.
Three sets would be enough too.
From the second round onward, the atmosphere got tense, and people started challenging each other.
Ouyang Lai, perhaps feeling bad about bullying the other groups, stepped outside the game’s usual scope and wrote that Li Fei could run very fast.
Jiang Weina immediately egged on Lu Xiao, the most promising contender, to compete with him.
The two lined up at the same starting point and ran one 200-meter lap. Lu Xiao returned to the start ahead of Li Fei, so Ouyang Lai was eliminated.
Ouyang Lai patted Li Fei on the shoulder. “It’s fine. For the rest, just compete for fun.”
Meng Xueyuan picked up his large water bottle and handed it to Lu Xiao. Two hundred meters was nothing to Lu Xiao—he wasn’t even out of breath.
[Our God Lai really has class—and Lu Xiao really is fast.]
Next, relying on his blind confidence in his wife, Lu Xiao wrote down two words: “education.”
My wife is really smart.
Unexpectedly, Mrs. Zhang laughed and objected, “My husband completed an in-service master’s program at University Q—does that count?”
Meng Xueyuan had only earned an undergraduate degree at that school, so naturally he couldn’t compare. He spoke up on his own initiative: “It counts. Teacher Zhang is far more learned than I am.”
Great—Lu Xiao was eliminated.
Lu Xiao exited with a dark expression. Damn it, a stumble at the last moment. He still had so many dazzling virtues of his wife he wanted to list; holding them in was really uncomfortable.
At this moment, Jiang Xunbai said that Wang Changyi was very good at making desserts.
Meng Xueyuan hesitated. This didn’t seem easy to compare—especially since Wang Changyi hadn’t shown any baking skills these past few days, not even one-thousandth of Lu Xiao’s level.
Forget it.
When Jiang Weina said her husband’s calligraphy was excellent, Zhang Jinhe objected.
Zhang Jinhe wasn’t very familiar with the entertainment industry; when he said his wife could do ethnic dance, Jiang Weina objected instead and even performed a bit on the spot. Mrs. Zhang laughed and said she was just an amateur.
Meng Xueyuan wrote that Lu Xiao could do rock climbing. No one objected.
Gradually, only three people remained: Li Fei, Wang Changyi, and Meng Xueyuan.
Wang Changyi kept saying things like Jiang Xunbai having a very good temper—hard to refute.
Lu Xiao thought to himself, My wife has the best temper of all. Don’t be fooled by his cool exterior… Not for outsiders to know.
The atmosphere was extremely tense. All of Wang Changyi’s cleverness went into sweet talk; he said Jiang Xunbai was great at preparing gifts for him and celebrated every holiday.
Lu Xiao snorted again. Heh. You have no idea what gifts I give my wife!
…Though, to be fair, his wife didn’t know either.
[Jiang Xunbai fans really can’t take this—what good does it do to make Baibai sound so one-sidedly devoted to you?]
[Lu Xiao, say something! We can tell you really want to refute this.]
[Meng Xueyuan’s running out of ideas—Lu Xiao, can you help him out? Otherwise you’ll mess up the bedding and have nothing to change into!]
Meng Xueyuan’s answering style was very academic—concise and precise. The strengths he named for Lu Xiao were clear and obvious at a glance; everyone could see how impressive Lu Xiao was.
But after praising him for several rounds, he was running out of words. After all, this was just a business relationship, and many of Lu Xiao’s strengths weren’t public.
But he really wanted to change the bedding!
Meng Xueyuan bit his lip and wrote on the whiteboard—
[Driving.]
Lu Xiao could drive race cars; stated vaguely, that meant he was very good at driving.
[What kind of “driving” are you talking about?]
[I’m corrupted too—it definitely isn’t proper driving.]
[Baby, you really want to win.]
[Does this count as “driving just to drive”?]
“I object!” Wang Changyi finally found a chance to beat Lu Xiao and raised his hand. “I’ve raced before—shouldn’t that mean I’m more proficient than the average person?”
Jiang Xunbai nodded in agreement.
Wang Changyi scrolled through his phone album and pulled up some photos of himself racing.
The director glanced at them. “Then we’ll rule that Meng Xueyuan this round—”
Meng Xueyuan pressed his lips together, put away the whiteboard, and lowered his lashes. He hadn’t expected others to race too. What a pity—he couldn’t argue on Lu Xiao’s behalf.
Seeing his wife’s dejected look, Lu Xiao’s heart tightened. He raised his hand. “I object! I can drive too.”
Wang Changyi had never heard of Lu Xiao having anything to do with racing. He assumed Lu Xiao was just taking advantage of the fact that racing couldn’t be PK’d on the spot. “Being able to drive and being good at it aren’t on the same level.”
Lu Xiao lifted his gaze. “I—”
Meng Xueyuan stopped him, grabbing his wrist and shaking his head. It was just a game. There was no need to make public what Lu Xiao didn’t want to disclose—especially since he was about to retire; there was no need to use it for publicity.
Lu Xiao wouldn’t let his wife lose. Succinctly, he said, “When I was abroad, my name was Alen.”
Wang Changyi was baffled. “Who?”
The comments exploded instantly.
[?????!!!!!]
Meng Xueyuan paused, then said, “Alen won an F1 World Championship.”
The entire place fell silent for a moment. The director blinked—wait, we have this many champions here? Did I negotiate the sponsorship fee too low?!
[Wang Changyi doesn’t even know Alen and still dares say he’s proficient?]
[Wait—who just said his name was Alen???]
[So the driving you meant really wasn’t proper driving! Lu Xiao, I’ll kill you!]
[Fine, fine—two years after I finally recovered from Alen’s retirement, I turn around and end up stanning you!]
[No one can step into the same river twice. I can.]
[As a night watchman, I went to look it up. Regretfully meeting you again like this—haha, I’m not crazy.]
[Wow, serial offender. You really have to be careful stanning celebrities who don’t milk fans.]
[Yuan-yuan, please don’t pity me just because I’m a leek—cut boldly, cut hard!]
