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Chapter 18 – Bulbasaur

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In the early morning, the thick blackout curtains in the room had already been drawn open, leaving only a layer of white gauze curtains to filter some of the light.

This made the lighting in the room bright but not harsh.

Shi Cha had tossed and turned for a long time last night and didn’t fall asleep until one or two in the morning. At the moment, he was sleeping soundly on a soft pillow, showing no signs of waking up.

Lin Ran glanced at the time. If he didn’t wake Shi Cha soon, the staff would be coming in with cameras to film them waking up.

“Xiao Shi, Xiao Shi~”

Shi Cha opened his eyes in a daze, and the first thing he saw was Lin Ran’s gentle, smiling face.

He glanced at him, then nuzzled the pillow and shut his eyes again. “Still dreaming. Keep sleeping. Don’t wake up.”

Lin Ran chuckled softly at Shi Cha, who clearly wanted to stay in bed.

“If you don’t get up now, the sun’s going to be shining on your butt.”

Startled, Shi Cha immediately sat up straight, wide-eyed.

Only then did he realize that the person in front of him wasn’t part of a dream—he was really there.

Turning his head slightly to take in his surroundings, he finally remembered where he was.

Yesterday’s memories slowly resurfaced in his mind.

“I-I’ll get up right away.”

He lifted the blanket and began to get out of bed.

However, as he lifted one corner of the blanket, a smooth, fair thigh was revealed.

Startled, Shi Cha hastily yanked the blanket back up, wrapping himself tightly to make sure nothing else inappropriate would be exposed.

His face flushed bright red as he suddenly remembered that, in his sleepy haze last night, he had felt a bit warm and—thinking he was at home—had casually kicked off his pajama pants.

Now, both of his legs under the blanket were completely bare.

Seeing how flustered Shi Cha was, Lin Ran couldn’t help but chuckle again, though he didn’t tease him any further.

“I’ll step out. You go ahead and get yourself sorted.”

Shi Cha kept his head down, too embarrassed to meet Lin Ran’s gaze. Hearing that Lin Ran was leaving, he quickly nodded. “Okay.”

As the door closed behind him, Shi Cha immediately threw off the blanket and started searching for the pajama pants he had no idea where he’d kicked.

Just as he finally found them in one corner of the bed, the door suddenly opened again.

Lin Ran calmly walked back in, heading straight to the neatly made bed and picking up his phone from the nightstand.

“I forgot to grab this just now,” he said, raising the phone slightly in his hand.

Then, without so much as a sideways glance, he turned and walked back to the door, ready to leave again.

However, just as the door opened, a voice filled with amusement drifted over to Shi Cha, who was frozen on the bed.

“Bulbasaur… pretty cute.”

Before Shi Cha could react, the door had already closed.

It wasn’t until then that he looked down and realized: on his light blue pajama pants, a grinning Bulbasaur was printed right on the front.

Unlike the small, fist-sized Bulbasaur on the front, the one on the back completely covered his rear!

Which meant—

When Lin Ran walked in just now, the first thing he saw was him, bent over, wearing Bulbasaur on his butt!

Help!

How could he let Brother Lin Ran see something like that?! How utterly stupid!

Mortified, Shi Cha covered his face with both hands—only to realize he was still holding his pajama pants.

“…”

Terrified that Lin Ran might walk back in again, Shi Cha froze for a second, then hurried to put the pants on.

He then quickly rummaged through his suitcase for today’s clothes and rushed into the bathroom to change. Just in case, he locked the door, too.

But by the time he was finished getting ready, Lin Ran hadn’t returned.

That made Shi Cha breathe a sigh of relief… but also left him feeling a little uneasy.

He dawdled in the room for a while, nervous about how to face Lin Ran. But no matter how reluctant he was to go out, time eventually ran out, and the staff came knocking.

Shi Cha pulled himself together, putting on a serious face. He decided to act like nothing had happened.

He gave himself a silent pep talk.

If I’m not embarrassed, then it’s someone else who’ll be embarrassed. It’s fine. I’ve got this!

Thankfully, the production team wasn’t so heartless as to make the guests prepare breakfast first thing in the morning.

By the time Shi Cha arrived, the others were already gathered around the dining table.

A middle-aged man with a local accent was introducing various regional breakfast dishes while setting them out on the table.

Zhong Jiarong enthusiastically played along, picking up a small pastry and popping it into his mouth, nodding approvingly.

“It’s really good. You guys should try it.”

Shi Cha’s late arrival didn’t draw much attention. Only Lin Ran pulled out the chair next to him, inviting him to sit down beside him.

Nothing happened to make Shi Cha feel awkward or uncomfortable.

Very soon, Shi Cha also started eating, determined to quietly enjoy his breakfast like a true foodie.

The only thing he didn’t quite understand was how Lin Ran, as if worried he might go hungry, kept piling more food into his bowl and onto his plate.

Shi Cha didn’t want to attract attention by refusing, so he kept his head down and ate in silence—stuffing his cheeks like a little hamster.

His hearty appetite only encouraged Lin Ran to feed him more enthusiastically.

Soon, Lin Ran was propping up his head with one hand and holding chopsticks in the other. The moment anything on Shi Cha’s plate looked low, he’d immediately top it up again.

In the end, Shi Cha had no choice but to glare at Lin Ran, trying to send a clear message of refusal through his eyes.

Meanwhile, the livestream chat had already been overtaken by their fans.

Yes—Shi Cha had only been on the variety show for a day, and he already had fans.

[“Xiao Shi Cha looks so cute while eating, it’s making me want a second breakfast!”]

[“Awww, are we seriously not going to ship the caretaker and the little hamster?”]

[“Different species can’t fall in love! This is clearly a carnivorous boss-type feeding a clueless herbivore.”]

[“…”]

The others at the table began to sense something unusual too.

Wu Heze, who had almost no impression of Shi Cha earlier, was now starting to warm up to him. Seeing the mountain of food piled on Shi Cha’s plate, then glancing at his slim frame, he couldn’t help but ask: “Shi Cha, can you still eat?”

Shi Cha paused, frowning slightly as if conflicted—but he still nodded. “I can.”

He sneaked a glance at Lin Ran, then lowered his head and continued eating.

After all, Lin Ran had personally served him this food. No matter what, he had to finish it.

However, just as he reached out for another bite, his plate was suddenly pulled away.

He stared blankly as Lin Ran slid the plate over to his own side.

“If you can’t eat anymore, don’t force yourself.”

At first glance, those words sounded a bit scolding.

Shi Cha pressed his lips together, feeling a little aggrieved.

But in the very next moment, Lin Ran picked up his own chopsticks and began eating directly from Shi Cha’s plate.

“You—!”

Not only was Shi Cha stunned, but everyone else at the table was in total shock too.

Wu Heze opened his mouth, as if wanting to say something, but after a moment’s thought, he decided that two grown men sharing a plate of food really wasn’t that big of a deal.

Lin Ran, for his part, seemed completely at ease—eating with a calm and natural expression.

“Wasting food is shameful. I was the one who gave that to Shi Cha. If he can’t finish it, then it’s my responsibility to take care of the leftovers.”

The others still felt something was a little off, but the explanation did make sense. After all, it was a livestream show. If that much food went to waste, people might criticize them for being extravagant or not valuing food.

Zhong Jiarong finished the last sip of his soy milk and nodded in agreement.

“A few decades ago, people still didn’t have enough to eat or wear. Even though things are better now, we still shouldn’t waste food. Come on, everyone—let’s help finish the rest.”

Since the meal was meant to showcase local specialties, a wide variety of dishes had been served. With only six guests, they couldn’t finish it all. So Zhong Jiarong called over the staff to help divide up and finish the food.

With that, no one really paid attention anymore to the fact that Lin Ran had just eaten Shi Cha’s leftovers.

Except for the CP (couple-pairing) fans.

[“Why does the vibe between Shi Cha and Lin Ran feel… off after just one night together?”]

[“Mind your words—they’re just roommates sharing the same room!”]

[“rubs hands together I really want to know what happened after the cameras were turned off last night.”]

[“QAQ I paid for a membership—what do you mean there are things I can’t see?!”]

[“…”]

As the staff joined in and started eating, the dining room filled with lively chatter and noise. No one noticed Shi Cha’s ears turning red with embarrassment.

He sat with his head down, fiddling with his fingers, his mind a little dazed and confused.

---

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Chapter 17 – That’s Too Much of a Tease!

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“Xiao Shi, did you find it?” Lin Ran’s voice called from the bathroom.

Startled, Shi Cha hastily shoved the underwear back into the suitcase, grabbed a blue towel, and rushed toward the bathroom.

Fortunately, despite his earlier panic, he hadn’t completely lost his senses.

He stood outside the bathroom door, craning his neck away so he wouldn’t peek inside, thinking to himself: Brother Lin Ran just finished showering—he’s definitely not dressed. I can’t take advantage of him!

With his head turned awkwardly, Shi Cha stretched out his arm and handed the towel inside.

“Here.”

Lin Ran chuckled at how far away Shi Cha was standing—at least three meters—and didn’t tease him further. He stepped forward and took the towel from Shi Cha’s outstretched hand.

As soon as his hand was empty, Shi Cha fled back to his bed like he was escaping a crime scene.

He sat at the foot of the bed, head down, nervously picking at the bedsheet with his fingers. The air between them felt so awkward it was almost tangible.

But before he could even take a proper breath, Lin Ran came out of the bathroom.

Shi Cha lowered his eyes, watching Lin Ran’s bare feet as he slowly walked past—then stopped.

Confused, Shi Cha looked up.

And came face-to-chest with Lin Ran’s pecs.

The other’s smooth, toned skin gleamed slightly, each of his six-pack abs clearly defined. Further up were firm pectorals, and…

Shi Cha felt his throat go dry, heart pounding like a drum—thump, thump—leaving his head dizzy.

He gulped hard and managed to squeeze out a single word: “You…”

He wanted to say, Didn’t you take your pajamas in with you? Why are you still shirtless, just wrapped in a towel down there?

This is way too much of a tease!

It’s practically begging someone to do something indecent!

Whether it was nerves, the overhead lighting, or just oxygen deprivation from holding his breath too long, Shi Cha found himself completely unable to speak.

Lin Ran curved his lips into a smile—and that smile made Shi Cha’s head spin even more.

“I forgot to grab my underwear earlier. Sorry for making you help,” Lin Ran said casually, walking over to his suitcase.

He bent down and fished around in the corner where Shi Cha had shoved the underwear just moments ago.

Shi Cha stared at Lin Ran’s slender fingers pulling out that very piece of fabric he had just touched. His face flushed an even deeper red.

Did Lin Ran notice it had been moved?

Did he know Shi Cha had touched it?

Shi Cha’s thoughts were an absolute mess.

After finding his underwear, Lin Ran straightened up. Because of the movement, the towel around his waist slipped down slightly, revealing his lean, muscular waist and lower abdomen.

Smiling, Lin Ran held up the fabric in his hand. “I still need to use the bathroom to change, so I’ll have to trouble you to wait a bit longer.”

Shi Cha forced himself to look away and gave a quiet, dry-sounding, “Okay.”

That single word came out rough and hoarse.

From where Shi Cha couldn’t see, Lin Ran raised an eyebrow slightly, then walked back to the bathroom in a noticeably good mood.

As soon as Lin Ran stepped away, Shi Cha hurried to open his suitcase and started preparing the clothes and towel he would need after his shower, checking everything carefully one by one.

No way could he risk having to ask Lin Ran to bring him anything again—not clothes, not a towel!

The moment Lin Ran came out, Shi Cha grabbed his things and rushed into the bathroom without even glancing back.

Right now, he was terrified of being alone in the same space with Lin Ran. That feeling… he didn’t even know how to describe it.

His mind would go fuzzy, his mouth dry, his tongue tied—completely unable to speak.

Maybe his social anxiety was acting up again!

But the moment Shi Cha closed the bathroom door and got ready to undress, a new problem arose.

The bathroom had a glass-door shower, and the steam from Lin Ran’s earlier shower hadn’t completely cleared.

Unbidden, an image of Lin Ran standing inside the same space flashed through Shi Cha’s mind—and then the thought that he’d soon be standing there naked too…

Help!

He squatted down, hugging his head.

Having an overactive imagination is a curse!

It took Shi Cha nearly a whole hour to finally finish showering and come out.

By that time, Lin Ran was already lounging against the headboard, wearing glasses and reading a book.

When he saw Shi Cha come out, he closed the book and got up from the bed.

Shi Cha watched him stand, then take a hair dryer out of his suitcase and walk over. He looked up at Lin Ran, his voice stammering again. “Y-you… what are you doing?”

Lin Ran smiled, clearly amused. “I noticed you didn’t bring a hair dryer. I thought I’d dry your hair for you.”

Shi Cha’s first instinct was to refuse. “N-no need.”

But Lin Ran didn’t give him a choice. “It’s already late. If you sleep with wet hair, you’ll wake up with a headache tomorrow.”

With that, he gently pulled Shi Cha to the bedside and pushed him down to sit.

The sound of the hair dryer started up, and Lin Ran’s fingers gently threaded through Shi Cha’s soft hair.

Bit by bit, the moisture in his hair was blown away, and wherever Lin Ran’s fingers touched his scalp, a tingling sensation followed.

As if determined not to let him off the hook, Lin Ran’s teasing voice came from above his head.

“Shi Cha, why are your ears so red?”

Shi Cha reflexively touched his ear. “P-probably because the water was too hot just now.”

“It was pretty hot. Your neck’s red too.”

Shi Cha pressed his lips together and said nothing.

He decided to become a silent clam.

After a while, the hum of the hair dryer stopped, and Lin Ran’s fingers finally left his hair.

Shi Cha turned his head and saw Lin Ran winding up the dryer’s cord. He bit his lip, then couldn’t help blurting out the question in his heart.

“Do you… usually dry other people’s hair too?”

Shi Cha didn’t know why he even cared about that—or what exactly this sour feeling in his chest meant.

He just stubbornly wanted to know the answer.

Lin Ran’s hands paused for a second. Once everything was packed away, he slowly walked over and stood in front of Shi Cha.

Looking up at him, Shi Cha felt an intense pressure radiating from Lin Ran’s presence.

He wanted to retreat, but sitting at the edge of the bed, there was nowhere to go.

Lowering his gaze, he suddenly realized maybe his question had crossed a line. After all, this was the first time he and Lin Ran had met in eight years—practically strangers.

“S-sorry… just forget I asked.”

But the next second, the tall, intimidating figure looming over him vanished.

Lin Ran had knelt down on one knee, raising his head slightly to meet Shi Cha’s gaze.

“No need to apologize.”

“There’s no one else. You’re the first… and the only one.”

Shi Cha stared in surprise into Lin Ran’s gentle, deep eyes. There was something in them he couldn’t quite decipher—an emotion strong enough to drown him.

And in that serious gaze, he caught a glimpse of his own anxious reflection.

He couldn’t help feeling a little happy.

In that moment, Lin Ran’s eyes held only him.

—Only him!

Did that mean… Brother Lin Ran didn’t dislike him?

That they could be friends?

Real friends!

Lin Ran looked at Shi Cha, whose eyes were darting all over the place, clearly lost in some train of thought. He worried that everything he’d done today might have scared the kid off.

And honestly, it had startled Shi Cha a bit.

Lin Ran reached out and gently ruffled his hair, letting out a small sigh. “Still just a kid,” he muttered. I’ll have to take it slow.

“Go to bed early. Or you won’t grow taller.”

Shi Cha immediately protested, full of indignation. He still had so many thoughts and feelings—how could Lin Ran still see him as a child?

“I’m an adult now, and I’ve already graduated!”

Hearing his protest, Lin Ran’s eyes crinkled with a smile. Still a kid, he thought—only children care this much about being called small.

“All right, all right. You’re grown-up, not a kid.”

“Okay then, get some rest. We have to get up early tomorrow.”

Shi Cha still wanted to argue—he had a feeling Lin Ran hadn’t taken his words seriously at all. He was just brushing him off.

But seeing Lin Ran already lying back in bed, he couldn’t push the issue, and could only mutter a reluctant, “Good night.”

…

At a senior executive office of a certain film and entertainment company.

Lu Lecheng’s manager was reporting the results of that day’s livestream to the boss.

The boss frowned in dissatisfaction after hearing the numbers.

“What’s wrong with Xiao Lu today? The company gave him resources, and he didn’t even know how to use them properly? No increase in fan count, no buzz—what’s the point of him joining this variety show then?”

The manager quickly added, “Today’s program focused on more niche activities—traditional arts and crafts. Not really in our talent show contestant’s wheelhouse. You know Xiao Lu is solid in singing and dancing, but unfortunately, he didn’t get a chance to show that today.”

The boss nodded, seemingly accepting the explanation.

“I read Xiao Lu’s file before—he graduated from A University’s Performing Arts Department, specializing in voice acting, and even graduated with honors. Since the regular cast of the show are all actors, we can’t expect him to outshine them in acting. Why not lean into the voice acting angle instead? Go find Manager Meng and have him call Qi Jing. Get them to arrange a voice acting segment for tomorrow’s show.”

The manager’s eyes lit up and he immediately went to find Manager Meng, who was in charge of external coordination.

When Qi Jing got the call in the middle of the night, she was so angry she nearly punched someone.

But when the investors ask her to create a segment to give someone a spotlight, even as the director, she couldn’t say no.

Luckily, the other party was fairly reliable and sent over the complete game segment design. All she had to do was assign the right guests to carry out the activities. It saved her the trouble of staying up late to design the game and prep the materials herself.

She closed her eyes again, ready to go back to sleep.

Voice acting?

Heh.

---

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Chapter 16 – Sharing a Room

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Perhaps it was because the mentality of the opposing team had completely collapsed, but within the next few minutes, Shi Cha and his team managed to push up to the enemy’s high ground with little effort.

Wu Heze was still basking in the joy of their recent victory.

“I’ve been playing this game for over ten years, and this is the first time I’ve felt such happiness. Hey, Little Shi Cha, how about becoming my permanent duo partner from now on? You be the jungler and I’ll be the support—let’s dominate the battlefield together!”

Shi Cha: “…”

Before Shi Cha could come up with a way to turn him down, Zhong Jiarong spoke up teasingly.

“I don’t really understand the game, but I got the gist of that. You only won this time thanks to Shi Cha and Lin Ran. If Little Shi Cha’s going to team up with anyone, it should be Lin Ran. Teaming up with you, a half-baked player? That wouldn’t be dominating—it’d be carrying dead weight.”

Zhong Jiarong’s comment made Wu Heze laugh, but he immediately protested.

“Come on, Brother Rong, don’t ruin this for me! I genuinely want a jungler who’ll take hits for me.”

He clutched his chest. “Even my thirty-something-year-old youthful heart is moved.”

Lin Ran, who had been silent the whole time, glanced at the amused Wu Heze and ruthlessly stabbed him with a verbal jab.

“If someone’s taking the damage, it’s the support shielding the jungler, not the other way around.”

In other words, even if you pair with a jungler, don’t expect him to protect you.

What Lin Ran said was also true. In team fights, it’s usually the support’s job to take damage and protect their team’s damage dealers.

Wu Heze: “…” Don’t be like this!

Zhou Caizhe joined in with a chuckle and added another jab, “Honestly, I think Shi Cha plays at Lin Ran’s level. Brother Ze, do you really think you can keep up with Shi Cha’s game sense?”

Wu Heze: “…” Am I really that bad?

He glanced at his rank, which was still stuck at Gold. Forget it—maybe he was just delusional!

Just as the enemy’s base crystal exploded, Lin Ran turned to Shi Cha and asked, “Xiao Shi, can we be duo partners? Mid-jungle synergy…”

Before Lin Ran could finish, Shi Cha abruptly shoved his keyboard away and stood up.

Lin Ran looked up at him in confusion. Shi Cha hesitated for a second, then braced himself and said, “I—I’m going to the bathroom.”

With that, he ran off without looking back.

Lin Ran had spoken softly, so no one else had caught what he said.

But Shi Cha’s “going to the bathroom” had been loud and clear.

By the time everyone else looked up, Shi Cha was already gone.

Wu Heze, confused, asked, “Was it that urgent?”

Shi Cha rushed into the bathroom, quickly shut the door, turned on the faucet, and splashed cold water on his face.

His cheeks felt like they were on fire, burning hot in waves.

What exactly did Lin Ran mean by what he said just now?

Does he treat everyone that way?

Or…

Is it just me?

Shi Cha bit his lip and looked up at his reflection in the mirror.

His originally rosy lips had been bitten pale. His lashes trembled slightly, and crystal-clear droplets slid down from the corners of his eyes, traced along his cheeks, and finally dripped from his chin one by one to the floor—strangely and beautifully sensual.

He lowered his gaze again, tugged the corners of his mouth, and murmured softly, almost mockingly, “A gentle person like Brother Lin Ran… how could he possibly like someone like me?”

Shi Cha stayed in the bathroom for a full ten minutes.

By the time he came out, the computers in the living room had already been packed away, and Zhong Jiarong and the others were drinking tea and chatting.

Seeing him return, Wu Heze called out, “Little Shi Cha, there are only three rooms, so we went ahead and split them up. You’ll be rooming with Lin Ran. Caizhe and Lecheng are in one room, and Brother Rong and I—since we both snore—we’ll share a room so we don’t bother you guys.”

Shi Cha hadn’t expected that in the short ten minutes he was gone, even the room assignments had been settled.

He turned to glance at Lin Ran, who was sipping tea with his head down—only for Lin Ran to look up at the same moment.

Their eyes met, and Lin Ran smiled.

“Xiao Shi, you’re not going to mind sharing with me, are you?”

Shi Cha quickly averted his gaze. The thought of spending the night alone in a room with Lin Ran made his heart race, though his face remained calm.

“No, I don’t mind.”

After chatting a bit longer, everyone headed to their rooms to rest.

Lin Ran walked confidently into the room, set his luggage by the bed, and took out a set of pajamas.

He turned and asked Shi Cha, who was lingering awkwardly at the door, “Are you showering first?”

Shi Cha was startled by the sudden question, but upon seeing the pajamas in Lin Ran’s hand, he immediately understood.

“You go first. You can shower first.”

Lin Ran raised an eyebrow, then picked up a white towel and walked over to the room’s camera.

He waved at it. “Good night, everyone. See you tomorrow.”

Then he covered the camera and unplugged the power cable altogether.

As the screen went black, the livestream chat erupted in protest.

[“I didn’t even get to see Ran-shen after his shower! Why’d it end so fast?!”]

[“Ahhh, I saw the bathroom’s inside the room! Even if we can’t see inside, at least let us hear the sound!”]

[“LinShi CP sharing a room? I’m declaring this a cohabitation arc!”]

[“So bold! Careful you don’t get banned!”]

After covering the camera, Lin Ran picked up his pajamas again. When he passed by Shi Cha, he paused.

“Then I’ll shower first.”

“Ah, okay. Sure.”

At that moment, Shi Cha felt like he couldn’t stand, couldn’t sit—his whole body felt like it was covered in spikes. No matter what he did, he was uncomfortable.

As soon as Lin Ran entered the bathroom, Shi Cha collapsed onto the bed, gasping for air.

He felt like Lin Ran’s presence—and the pressure he brought—was growing stronger and stronger. Was he only feeling this way because he had a guilty conscience?

He forced himself to breathe in and out, trying to appear calm and composed.

But just as he finally managed to steady himself, the sound of running water from the bathroom broke his concentration.

The sound of water splashing echoed clearly in Shi Cha’s ears.

He twisted his fingers nervously.

It was obvious—Lin Ran hadn’t even closed the bathroom door when he went in to shower!

Realizing this, Shi Cha’s imagination began involuntarily conjuring up images of what might be happening in the bathroom.

The moment his thoughts went there, he immediately punched himself in the head.

No! No! Stop imagining things!

Taking another deep breath, he shut his eyes tightly and began silently reciting the Heart Sutra.

“Avalokiteśvara Bodhisattva… form is not different from emptiness, and emptiness is not different from form…”

By the second round of chanting, the sound of water had stopped—but then Lin Ran’s voice rang out.

“Xiao Shi, can you grab a towel for your big brother?”

Shi Cha, who had finally found some inner peace, suddenly opened his eyes wide in disbelief and looked toward the bathroom.

Lin Ran waited a moment, didn’t hear a reply, and called out again.

“I forgot to bring one in. Could you help me out? It’s in my open suitcase—a blue towel.”

Shi Cha glanced at the suitcase, and sure enough, there was a blue towel inside. Lin Ran really had forgotten it.

He hesitated for a moment, then slowly walked over to the suitcase.

The towel was tucked under a few pieces of black clothing.

Shi Cha crouched down and began moving the clothes aside. But just as he picked up the second item, he froze—like he’d been struck by lightning.

Between his fingertips was a perfectly folded pair of boxer briefs… and the noticeable bulge at the front was facing directly at him.

Shi Cha stood there, utterly spellbound, staring at the item in his hand with disbelief.

In the chaotic storm that was his mind, he had no idea what exactly he was thinking in that instant.

It was something along the lines of—

‘I can’t believe Brother Lin Ran actually likes this kind of underwear!’

---

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Chapter 15 – If Anyone’s Getting Married, It’s Me

---

After being provoked by Shi Cha, the five streamers in the ranked team queue were on voice chat discussing the game.

Qing Feng: “Who is this jungler named ‘Yanyan Is the Cutest’? So arrogant?”

Fatty: “Lulu, you just said that’s probably Ran Shen. If that’s true, then the rest of his team might be pros too—still active, or retired?”

Lulu had only heard it from her viewers in the livestream. They said the mid-laner was Ran Shen, and the top-laner was her current idol, Zhou Caizhe. As for the others, she wasn’t sure.

Upon hearing Fatty’s question, the fans immediately started sharing the info they had.

After reading through it, Lulu relaxed and said, “Ran Sheb’s participating in a variety show and streaming today. His current teammates are guests from the show. The support is Wu Heze, the top-laner is Zhou Caizhe, and the marksman is Lu Lecheng. As for the jungler—he’s just a regular guest named Shi Cha. Oh, and Shi Cha’s only Bronze V.”

When they heard he was only Bronze V, everyone burst out laughing.

Fatty, who also played jungle, couldn’t help but say, “So he’s just a trash-talker. No wonder he plays like a clueless newbie.”

While controlling her hero and clearing minions, Lulu continued to report the enemy’s status.

“Besides Ran Shen, the only one we really need to watch out for is their marksman, Lu Lecheng. He’s Diamond III, but for you, Qing Feng, that shouldn’t be a problem. Plus, their support’s only Gold. In the bottom lane, we’ve definitely got the upper hand.”

Qing Feng chuckled, “So basically, except for mid-lane, their top and bottom lanes are toast. Not even Ran Shen can carry this.”

Fatty sounded even more relaxed. “Just a Bronze-level jungler—their jungle is mine now. All the resources in their jungle belong to me. And with no vision there, even Ran Shen won’t dare to overextend from mid.”

When Fatty finished speaking, the others laughed along.

Although none of them said it out loud on stream, they all knew what this meant—this match could be their chance to ride Ran Shen’s popularity to the next level.

Who knows? “DD streamers beat Ran Shen” might even trend on social media tomorrow!

On the other side, things weren’t going as smoothly. Apart from Lin Ran holding his own in mid-lane, the top and bottom lanes were indeed just as their opponents had predicted—not completely crushed, but close, constantly under pressure.

As for the mid-lane, the opposing mid-laner, someone named Haowen, stayed hidden under his turret the entire time, never stepping out.

No matter how skilled Lin Ran was, there was no way to dive and kill someone playing so cautiously that early in the game.

Haowen’s intentions were clear—he’d rather miss farm and stall his growth than give Lin Ran the chance to score a kill.

He didn’t mind if his lane fell behind. Pinnacle was a five-player game. Once his three carries were fed, their team would be unstoppable.

Ran Shen couldn’t possibly carry such a weak, disorganized team on his own.

The enemy’s top and bottom lanes were progressing smoothly, but Fatty in the jungle was starting to feel like something was off.

He still hadn’t run into that Bronze-level jungler, and while not getting First Blood was one thing, what really puzzled him was that after roaming around the enemy jungle, all he managed to kill was a low-experience monster. He didn’t even manage to steal a single Red or Blue Buff.

Once the jungle monsters were cleared, there was still some time before the next spawn.

Fatty had no choice but to return to his own jungle. Since he had been focusing on invading the enemy jungle, he’d left many of his own resources untouched.

But when he got back, he was shocked to find that all of his jungle resources were gone.

He asked in voice chat, “Did one of you take my jungle camps?”

The others all shook their heads, saying they hadn’t touched them.

Lulu hesitated, “Could it have been the enemy jungler?”

Although Fatty didn’t want to admit it, Lulu’s guess seemed like the only plausible explanation.

His face immediately darkened, losing the relaxed, chatty demeanor he had earlier. “Did anyone see the enemy jungler?”

“Yanyan Is the Cutest? I think I saw him heading toward the river crab just now. Maybe he’s planning to take Rift Herald soon?”

As soon as Fatty heard that, there was no way he’d let Shi Cha take the crab too. The Herald was crucial—it had to be theirs.

At that moment, support player Tangmei suddenly chimed in over mic, “I’ve locked down their support!”

Qing Feng quickly followed up, “Nice! First Blood is ours for sure. Both of them in the bottom lane are dead meat!”

Fatty had also just arrived at the river crab.

The three of them acted in perfect sync.

[First Blood!]

[Double Kill!]

But Fatty didn’t see Shi Cha anywhere near the river and asked, “You guys got a double kill? Where’s the jungler? I didn’t see him.”

Qing Feng nearly slammed his keyboard. “He’s here, in our lane!”

Only then did Fatty notice that their bottom lane duo—the marksman and the support—had both gone grey and were now respawning at the base.

Fatty: “…What just happened?”

Qing Feng: “What the hell, man! I swear I saw him heading for the Rift Herald. How did he end up ganking bottom?!”

Back at the guesthouse, Wu Heze nearly blew the roof off with his shout. If there weren’t two people sitting between him and Shi Cha, he would’ve rushed over and kissed him.

“Xiao Shi Cha, you’re incredible! That was textbook misdirection—make it look like you’re going for the obvious objective, then sneak around behind their backs. I seriously didn’t expect that one day I, a mere Gold I player, could be part of making streamers wipe!”

After praising Shi Cha, he didn’t forget to compliment himself too. “Of course, my baiting earlier was top-notch as well.”

Shi Cha was still diligently clearing jungle monsters along the way. When he heard Wu Heze boasting, he raised an eyebrow and casually replied, “You sure you were baiting, and not just messing up for real?”

The moment he said that, Shi Cha suddenly remembered—this wasn’t some online match with random teammates. He was playing offline.

Wu Heze looked at him in surprise. “Wow, Xiao Shi Cha, you actually know how to tease people too?”

Shi Cha immediately felt a prickling sensation on his scalp. He pressed his lips together and fell silent.

Lin Ran noticed Shi Cha’s discomfort and immediately changed the subject. “Have the bottom lane duo returned to lane yet?”

Wu Heze quickly checked. “Not yet.”

Lin Ran said, “They might have gone to take the Rift Herald. Their jungler was just there.”

Wu Heze immediately asked, “Should we go too?”

Lin Ran replied, “No need. I’ll go with Shi Cha.”

Wu Heze hesitated. “Just the two of you against three? Can you handle it?”

While pushing the wave and hitting the turret, Lü Lecheng chimed in sourly, “Shi Cha just picked up two kills. His gear’s better than theirs.”

He was still feeling bitter—when Shi Cha came to gank earlier, he hadn’t left a single kill for him.

He didn’t even have a chance to steal one!

The others didn’t pick up on the jealousy in his voice, as Zhong Jiarong casually sipped his tea and cut in, “How could Lin Ran and little Shi Cha not manage it? Even if they couldn’t, they have to, right?”

Wu Heze quickly laughed and chimed in, “Haha, Brother Rong got a point. We’d better not go—don’t want it to look like you two can’t do it.”

Zhou Caizhe tried to hold in his laughter but didn’t dare tease openly.

Shi Cha: “???”

Why did it feel like there was something more behind their words?

As someone with social anxiety, Shi Cha didn’t really understand a lot of innuendos or jokes. He just headed straight for the location of the enemy trio.

Sure enough, the three opponents were taking Rift Herald. But since their jungler hadn’t fully cleared his camps, he hadn’t reached level six yet. Meanwhile, the enemy marksman had reached level six after farming multiple waves.

Despite that, their damage output on Herald was pretty fast, and by the time Shi Cha arrived, its health was already down to a sliver.

Without hesitation, Shi Cha flashed into the fight and used Smite with a crowd control ability—not only did he secure the Herald, but he also stunned all three of them.

Lin Ran followed up instantly with his ultimate, unleashing AoE damage on all three. Since both he and Shi Cha had better gear, their damage was far higher, and the enemies’ health bars plummeted.

Shi Cha wasn’t idle either. He focused down the jungler and took him out, but when the enemy marksman and support were each left with a sliver of health, he suddenly stopped attacking.

Naturally, those two kills went to Lin Ran.

After finishing off the enemies, the two of them returned to base to buy more items.

Since the enemy bot lane duo had been sent back to base again, Wu Heze was feeling completely relaxed. He spun in place and praised them, “Ran Shen and Little Shi Cha really are perfectly in sync.”

When Lin Ran returned to lane after buying items, he asked, “Why did you let me have those kills just now?”

Shi Cha hadn’t expected his little maneuver to be noticed by Lin Ran. The ear on Lin Ran’s side started to burn red again. After a pause, he replied in a slightly muffled voice:

“I already got three. You didn’t have any yet.”

Lin Ran gave a satisfied “Mm.”

Hearing the exchange, Zhou Caizhe couldn’t sit still.

“Shi Cha, come gank top for me later, alright? Just like you did for Ran Shen—let me have the kill too, please? I’m getting crushed here. I’m practically broke!”

“Mmm~” Shi Cha responded—sort of. It sounded like agreement, but not quite.

After all, he did go top to gank, but… he didn’t give up the kill.

Once Shi Cha secured the kill and left, Zhou Caizhe stared at him from the seat next to him with a resentful look.

“Why the double standard? In what way am I worse than Ran Shen?”

Shi Cha really wanted to say, “In every way,” but held it in and changed it to, “Him getting kills brings more value to the team.”

Zhou Caizhe: “……” Wasn’t that basically saying he was useless to the team? No need to be that blunt.

He could already imagine tomorrow: his fans turning this into a meme and spamming it all over his Weibo.

Still trying to salvage his pride, he said, “Well… it’s not like we’re playing professionally. We’re just having fun, can’t we just chill a bit?”

Hearing that, Shi Cha turned to look at Zhou Caizhe, his dark eyes filled with seriousness.

“Competitive games are meant to be won. Even if it’s for fun, we should try our best to win.”

Zhou Caizhe was stunned. He only turned back to look at his hero once Shi Cha resumed running around the jungle.

A strange feeling of competitiveness suddenly stirred in him. What was happening?

Meanwhile, the livestream chat was having a blast:

[“Zhou Zhou looks like a student who just got scolded by the dean. LOL I’m dying.”]

[““Dean” my ass, LOL. But I already screenshotted Zhou Zhou’s dumbfounded face.”]

[“Director Shi! So cool, I love it!”]

[“Ugh, Shi Cha’s obsession with winning is too much. I don’t like people who are so self-centered and utilitarian.”]

[“LMAO then don’t watch. I like Little Shi Cha’s personality. This is esports—being bad is the original sin. If he can win, why shouldn’t he?”]

While things were cheerful and lighthearted on Shi Cha’s side, the mood over with the DD streamers had turned icy cold.

Fatty (Jungle): “Tangmei, why didn’t you use your CC on the enemy jungler? If you had intercepted him outside, we could’ve gotten the Rift Herald and won the 3v2 fight.”

Tangmei (Support) quickly apologized, “Sorry, sorry—that was my oversight.”

Lulu quickly tried to calm everyone down. “Everyone, be careful. That jungler doesn’t seem like a Bronze-level player. They might be a smurf from a high rank. Don’t let their rank lull us into carelessness.”

But not long after her warning, she too got ganked by Shi Cha.

Fatty’s (the jungler’s) expression turned even uglier. “Lulu, what happened this time?”

Lulu didn’t look good either. With the enemy jungler coming to gank her top lane, she had no way to escape.

Both girls apologized to Fatty, but Qingfeng couldn’t stand it anymore. He snapped at Fatty, “You didn’t even come help top lane. She got collapsed on alone. That jungler is super fed—of course she couldn’t escape.”

“I’m supposed to gank? How am I supposed to gank? My jungle’s been completely cleared, we’ve got no vision at all. You think I dare to roam?”

“Your jungle got invaded—how is that our fault?”

“If the support doesn’t come help me, how am I supposed to wander around? What, just walk into bushes with my face?”

Fatty and Qingfeng started arguing directly. Haowen, who had been quietly hanging around midlane this whole time, quickly tried to mediate.

“Everyone, calm down. The game’s not over yet.”

The message was clear: the stream was still live—if they wanted to stir up drama for views, now wasn’t the time.

The two of them knew they couldn’t let it escalate, so after Haowen stepped in, they each backed down a little.

Haowen hadn’t expected that, out of everyone, he—the one under the most pressure and most likely to give up first blood—would actually be the last one on the team to die.

He couldn’t help but think: fate sure has a sense of humor.

Fatty’s mentality had clearly collapsed by this point, and he started playing more and more passively.

By mid-game, Lulu checked the scoreboard. While the enemy’s top, ADC, and support had all died at least once, Shi Cha and Lin Ran—their most fed players—had not died a single time from start to finish.

Their gold kept increasing. Their items were getting better and better.

“We can’t wait any longer,” Lulu said. “We need to shut those two down. If this keeps up, they’ll be able to kill us in two hits. No one will be able to stop them.”

Qingfeng glanced at the map and nodded. “Let’s head to Baron. Look for a teamfight opportunity.”

…

After Shi Cha finished taking the Dragon, he noticed that the vision around Baron had once again been cleared out.

Wu Heze gave a surprised sound. “Their bot duo left.”

Zhou Caizhe asked, “You think they’re going for Baron? Should we just give it up?”

Shi Cha looked up toward the top side. “I’ll go check.”

A few seconds later, Shi Cha said, “They’re doing Baron. Come start a teamfight—don’t let a single one get away.”

Everyone rushed toward the top side.

Shi Cha was still roaming outside the pit, keeping an eye on Baron’s HP. But with one shift in position, he noticed that only three enemy players were at Baron.

He glanced at the bottom edge of his vision and immediately warned, “Brother Ze, be careful of the bush on the right—there might be an ambush!”

At the same time, Wu Heze cried out, “I’m CC’d!”

Seconds later, the bot lane duo was instantly blown up—neither of them even got a single skill off.

Shi Cha: “…”

While the bot lane was being ambushed, Shi Cha dove straight into the Baron pit to CC the enemy. It was a 3v3, with neither side holding a numbers advantage.

But it was clear the enemy had planned this—they were doing Baron to bait them into a fight.

Zhou Caizhe, not being the strongest player, mispositioned and got hit by several abilities before going down. Meanwhile, the enemy top laner, who had been tanking both Lin Ran and Shi Cha’s damage, also finally fell.

The situation on the field shifted immediately—only Shi Cha and Lin Ran were left on their side.

On the enemy side, the mid and jungle were still alive, and after taking out Lü Lecheng and Wu Heze, their ADC and support had also arrived.

Four versus two!

All of the enemy’s abilities were hurled at them.

The two fought back while their health bars steadily dropped.

Lin Ran’s ultimate finally came off cooldown. But during its cast animation, his hero couldn’t move. The enemy clearly anticipated this and dumped every offensive skill they had onto Lin Ran while he was ulting.

Wu Heze leaned over to watch Lin Ran’s screen, holding his breath in terror.

Zhou Caizhe even covered his eyes, unable to keep watching.

Shi Cha’s Hero was melee, surrounded on all sides by four enemies, while Lin Ran was still a distance away.

Shi Cha’s expression was cold, his fingers flying across the keyboard so fast they blurred.

On the screen, his hero, after killing one enemy, immediately turned and flashed in front of Lin Ran. Then he turned to face the remaining three enemies and quickly shifted forms.

A giant shield appeared in front of Lin Ran, instantly blocking all incoming attacks.

Wu Heze, staring at Lin Ran’s screen, couldn’t hold back. “Holy f**k!”

Then he turned to look at Shi Cha, who was still laser-focused on the screen and hadn’t paused even once, and shouted, “Shi Cha, if you ever do that for me, I’ll marry you on the spot!”

“A jungler with this much boyfriend energy—I want one!”

After the transformation, Shi Cha couldn’t switch back for a while, meaning he lost his ability to fight during that time. But thanks to his protection, Lin Ran managed to take out all three remaining enemies.

Hearing Wu Heze’s heartfelt confession, Lin Ran’s expression didn’t change. He simply said coolly, “Shi Cha protected me. If anyone’s getting married, I am.”

As soon as he said that, the livestream chat exploded:

[“????”]

[“??????”]

As for Shi Cha—his entire face was flushed red. He felt like he couldn’t even breathe!

Help!!

---

Author’s Note:

Scratches head Will everyone be able to understand this chapter?

(I don’t actually play the game myself—just watch the matches.)

There probably won’t be such detailed descriptions of gameplay in the later chapters.

So this one ended up extra long, hehe.

…

Ahhh, I love those self-sacrificial protection scenes. They give such a strong sense of security.

---

---

Chapter 14 – Bronze Shi Cha

---

Wu Heze looked at Lu Lecheng’s rank in surprise and said, “Little Lu is already Diamond III?”

Zhou Caizhe, upon hearing this, opened up Lu Lecheng’s profile and said enviously, “I’ve been stuck at Platinum for two months and still can’t make it to Diamond.”

“I’ve been stuck at Gold I every year, can’t even get to Platinum.”

Wu Heze sighed as he spoke, his fingers itching to reach into his pocket, but came up empty. Since he hadn’t brought any cigarettes with him for the variety show, he had to resist his habit of smoking whenever he plays games.

Lu Lecheng beamed at the praise but still put on a modest act. “I still need to learn from Brother Lin Ran. I bet he’s already a King-ranked player.”

At that, everyone turned to check Lin Ran’s rank.

But to everyone’s shock, Lin Ran was only in Diamond. Although slightly higher than Lu Lecheng—Diamond I—he hadn’t even reached Master.

In Pinnacle, the game they were playing, ranks reset every season. There were eight main tiers: Bronze, Silver, Gold, Platinum, Diamond, Master, Grandmaster, and Supreme King.

Each tier was further divided into five divisions, from V (lowest) to I (highest).

Among casual players, getting to Diamond was considered quite skilled. Of course, esports streamers and professional players usually ranked higher—at Master, Grandmaster, or even Supreme King.

Everyone had assumed that Lin Ran, if not a Supreme King, would at least be Master or Grandmaster. No one expected him to be only in the Diamond tier.

Wu Heze’s compliment caught in his throat. After a brief choke, he changed course: “He must’ve been really busy lately and didn’t have time to climb the ranks. Everyone knows if you don’t play for a while, your rank drops.”

It was a quick explanation for the livestream audience regarding Lin Ran’s rank.

After all, as a former champion who had only retired a year ago, that rank was unexpectedly low.

But Lin Ran didn’t agree with the excuse Wu Heze made on his behalf. He moved his mouse to adjust some in-game settings and said with a smile, “Diamond is fine for me. You know what they say—‘A diamond is forever.’”

Everyone: “……”

Zhong Jiarong happened to return from getting lemon tea just then. He hadn’t heard the earlier conversation and only caught Lin Ran’s diamond line.

He asked in confusion, “Diamond? Lin Ran, are you buying a diamond? Planning to propose or something?”

Everyone was stunned.

How did the topic suddenly shift to a marriage proposal?

If that line were taken out of context and spread online, tomorrow’s trending topic would be: Lin Ran is getting married—he’s already bought the ring!

Lin Ran smiled and replied to Zhong Jiarong, “I don’t even have a partner yet—can’t propose without one.”

While everyone was focused elsewhere, he sneaked a glance at Shi Cha, who was staring intently at the screen.

It had just been Zhong Jiarong going off on a tangent, so the group quickly moved on to other topics.

Only Shi Cha couldn’t stop thinking: Lin Ran actually remembered the slogan from a diamond ring commercial—does he really have someone special?

Just as he was lost in thought, someone suddenly spoke up.

“Huh? Why is Shi Cha only Bronze V?”

He snapped back to attention, just in time to hear Wu Heze trying to smooth things over. “No worries, it’s just a casual match.”

“Shi Cha, you’re playing jungle, right? If you’re not good at it, just play it safe. Don’t go feeding the other team and letting them snowball.”

This time, Shi Cha heard it clearly—it was Lu Lecheng speaking.

Lu Lecheng was trying to offer some beginner advice, after all. As a Diamond III player, he was in the same tier as Lin Ran.

Wu Heze and Zhou Caizhe didn’t think there was anything wrong with giving guidance like that to a newbie.

Shi Cha pressed his lips together and stayed quiet. There wasn’t much point in saying anything now.

But Lin Ran spoke lightly, “It’s fine. Just hold down the bottom lane, don’t worry about the rest.”

Everyone assumed he meant that with him on the team, he’d help cover for Shi Cha.

Once the five of them entered the room, they began matchmaking against another five-player team.

While they waited, Zhou Caizhe suddenly said, “Oh right—matchmaking uses the highest hidden MMR in the team to find opponents. What I mean is…”

He paused. The others all turned their heads to look at him.

“Ran-shen’s rank might only be Diamond I, but his hidden MMR must be really high, right? Are we about to go up against a pro team?”

His comment reminded everyone that their team had a wide rank spread. If matchmaking really used the highest MMR, weren’t they basically signing up for hell mode?

Would this casual game turn into a one-sided stomp, with the other team having all the fun while they got completely destroyed?

Trying to lighten the mood, Wu Heze waved his hand dramatically.

“That’s not gonna happen. How many pro teams do you think are out there five-stacking in matchmaking? They’re not that bored. If they do queue as five, it’s usually for scrims. Even if they’re streaming for fun, they’d be playing ranked. What’s the point of stomping noobs like us in a casual match?”

Zhou Caizhe nodded. “That… actually kind of makes sense.”

Whether it made sense or not, they had already queued in.

The group took their respective lanes, and while they were waiting for the minions to spawn, the opposing team suddenly spammed a line each in the map chat.

[DD-Lulu]: Good evening, Ran-shen!

[DD-Fatty]: Good evening, Ran-shen!

[DD-Haowen]: Good evening, Ran-shen!

[DD-Qingfeng]: Good evening, Ran-shen!

[DD-Tangmei]: Good evening, Ran-shen!

[DD-Haowen]: Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m laning against Ran-shen today. Please go easy on me! QAQ

Seeing the messages flood in, Wu Heze smacked his mouth with his hand.

“Why did I have to jinx it!”

They hadn’t been matched with pro players—but they had been matched with a full squad of streamers! And not just any streamers, but some of the most popular esports streamers on the DD live-streaming platform.

All of these players were live, and since Lin Ran and Shi Cha were also streaming as part of the variety show, viewers were jumping between streams and had already revealed their identities in the enemy streamers’ chats.

Thankfully, the stream had a built-in delay, so there was no risk of stream-sniping or live map reporting.

Zhou Caizhe, seeing a whole team of streamers on the other side, felt a bit nervous but didn’t show it. He even joked, “Wow, our luck couldn’t get any worse.”

At the same time, he sent a message in the chat:

[zhou]: QAQ, brothers on the other side, please have mercy on us.

To his surprise, someone replied:

[DD-Lulu]: Zhezhe, I love that new drama you’re in! I’m your biggest fangirl!

Zhou Caizhe’s heart lifted a little—Maybe he won’t kill me too badly since he’s a fan?

But right after, the enemy top laner dropped a follow-up:

[DD-Lulu]: But on the battlefield… you’re still the enemy. Zhezhe, I won’t go easy on you! ♥

Zhou Caizhe nearly coughed up blood.

Shi Cha stared at the chat and tried to resist the urge—but failed. His fingers started flying over the keyboard.

[YanyanIsTheCutest]: Weren’t you all just begging Ran-shen to go easy on you? You’d better watch out—we’re not going to go easy on you!

Shi Cha’s online persona had awakened.

In just ten seconds, Shi Cha sent five taunting messages in a row.

Both the five players on the opposing team and the three teammates on his own side were stunned.
Was this really the same Shi Cha who never talked?

When Lin Ran saw the messages, he couldn’t help but smile, the corners of his mouth lifting.

As soon as Shi Cha stopped spamming, Lin Ran added one of his own:

[Cha Buduo]: We won’t be showing any mercy!

Everyone else: “…”

Ran-shen… aside from you, the rest of us don’t even have the right to say that, do we?

Seeing the surprised looks the three of them gave him, Lin Ran blinked innocently and said nothing.

“???”

I never said ‘we’ included the three of you, did I?

---

---

Chapter 13 – LinShi CP

---

After Shi Cha went to the kitchen, Lin Ran also stood up.

“I’ll go help Shi Cha in the kitchen.”

When the others saw that not only had the winner brought the ingredients, but he was also going to cook, they immediately felt they couldn’t just sit around and do nothing.

Zhong Jiarong quickly said, “I’ll go rinse the rice and start the cooking!”

Wu Heze and the others also chimed in, saying they’d go help with preparing the vegetables.

The four of them swarmed into the kitchen all at once.

The kitchen, which had been fairly spacious, suddenly felt crowded with six grown men packed inside.

As Shi Cha turned around to grab something, he nearly bumped into Zhou Caizhe.

While Lin Ran was peeling potatoes, he was jostled by Wu Heze.

Even Zhong Jiarong, who had just finished rinsing the rice and was about to pour it into the pot, almost collided with Lu Lecheng—who, frankly, didn’t seem to know what he was doing there.

Lin Ran looked around at the increasingly chaotic kitchen and finally couldn’t hold back from shooing people out.

“You all should leave. Just Shi Cha and I are enough to handle the cooking.”

Zhong Jiarong had just started the rice and was wiping his hands when he heard that. He laughed and said, “To those who know, it looks like we’re helping. But to outsiders, it probably looks like we’re causing chaos. Alright, we’ll go. Let’s think about what else we can prepare to eat or drink.”

With the senior taking the lead, the others also realized they were just getting in the way, so they all filed out of the kitchen.

They began discussing what other snacks or drinks they could find.

In no time, only Shi Cha and Lin Ran were left in the kitchen.

Shi Cha was focused on preparing the beef when someone suddenly moved close to him, startling him.

Lin Ran was right beside him, holding a peeled potato and asking, “Xiao Shi, is this okay?”

Shi Cha glanced down at the potato in Lin Ran’s palm and nodded. At the same time, he noticed something.

When other people were around, Lin Ran called him “Shi Cha,” but when they were alone, he called him “Xiao Shi.”

Realizing this, Shi Cha’s earlobes couldn’t help but start to burn again.

He turned to the other side of the prep table, with his back to Lin Ran, and said softly, “I can handle this by myself. You should go out with the others.”

But Lin Ran didn’t answer. Instead, he asked when Shi Cha had learned to cook.

Shi Cha never avoided talking when it came to Lin Ran, so he continued slicing ginger as he replied.

“When I was sixteen. I rented a place off-campus back then. I wasn’t used to eating out, and I didn’t like hiring someone to cook, so I just gradually learned to do it myself.”

Lin Ran continued guiding the conversation, leading Shi Cha to talk more.

So, the audience watching the livestream saw a guy who, though clearly introverted and homebound, was disciplined, clean, and liked to tend to plants or draw when he was bored.

“What do you usually draw?”

“A bit of everything.”

“Can I visit and take a look sometime?”

“Huh?”

Shi Cha was caught off guard by the sudden question. He looked at Lin Ran, completely at a loss for how to respond.

He didn’t like people visiting him. Even his brother Shi Jian was only allowed to stay for five minutes at most. So far, only Du Yan had ever stayed a bit longer.

[“Xiao Shi Cha might look quiet and aloof, but look closely—he’s actually super soft and cute! Xiao Shi Cha, big sis wants to visit too!”]

[“Hmm, this is weird. Why do I feel like Lin Ran has ulterior motives?”]

[“Stop slandering our Ran Shen! He’s just looking after his little bro. Besides, they already know each other. Meeting up in private isn’t weird at all!”]

Whether Lin Ran had ulterior motives or not—only he knew.

Seeing Shi Cha’s conflicted expression, Lin Ran suddenly felt like laughing. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them.

He cornered Shi Cha between himself and the kitchen counter.

“Xiao Shi Cha, are you saying Brother Lin Ran isn’t welcome?”

“N-no,”

His heart thumped again. Shi Cha thought he might need to go to the hospital after work tomorrow—maybe there was something wrong with his heart.

Of course he wouldn’t say Lin Ran wasn’t welcome. After hesitating for a moment, he bit his lip and decided to overcome his discomfort.

“Of course you’re welcome.”

They were standing very close. The camera was filming from behind Lin Ran, so it didn’t catch Shi Cha’s expression.

Which meant the subtle lip-biting gesture was seen only by Lin Ran.

His heart skipped a beat. His gaze darkened slightly as he stared at Shi Cha’s lips.

Luckily, Shi Cha was looking down and didn’t notice the change in his expression.

A second later, Lin Ran stepped back like nothing had happened, speaking in a relaxed and casual tone:

“Then let’s add each other on WeChat.”

“Huh? Oh, okay.”

Shi Cha finally began to recover from his earlier fluster. He wiped his damp hands and pulled his phone from his pocket.

Just as he was about to open WeChat, he suddenly remembered—he’d been using a burner WeChat account for the past couple of days.

Trying to act calm, he turned away to avoid Lin Ran’s gaze.

With his back to him, he quickly switched accounts.

Then he turned back around, brought up the QR code, and held it out to Lin Ran.

Lin Ran had noticed everything—every movement, even the so-called “calm” fluster. But he didn’t say anything.

The two scanned each other’s codes, accepted the request, and added each other as contacts.

After adding Lin Ran on WeChat, Shi Cha immediately checked the profile.
Sure enough—it was the same “LR” account he had suspected.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he pressed them together.

Lin Ran didn’t use a burner account to brush off my alt.

Lin Ran, too, checked the profile after adding Shi Cha.

Lin Ran: ‘As expected, it’s not the same alt account he added me with before.‘

[“Ahhh! Why didn’t they show the QR code? Is there something we’re not allowed to see? I want to add Xiao Shi Cha on WeChat too!”]

[“555 (sobbing sounds), I’m so jealous of Shi Cha. I want Ran Shen as a WeChat contact!”]

Shi Cha turned back to continue cooking. While Lin Ran wasn’t looking, he quickly opened WeChat’s dual-app feature, logged into the alt account—the one with just a single friend on the list—and carefully hid the icon deep in a discreet folder.

He was absolutely determined not to let anyone find out his secret.

Once everything was set, he sneaked a glance at Lin Ran, who was still focused on chopping vegetables and hadn’t noticed anything.

Relieved, Shi Cha let out a quiet sigh.

But the moment Shi Cha looked at him, Lin Ran did notice—he just pretended not to. He kept chopping, acting natural.

Only after Shi Cha turned back around did Lin Ran glance sideways at him.

Clearly he was up to something. And clearly he didn’t want me to notice.

Lin Ran turned his gaze back to the vegetables, a subtle smile playing at the corners of his lips as he continued chopping without pause.

The two of them made four main meat dishes and, using the extra vegetables, also cooked up four vegetarian sides.

By the time they finished, the others had returned.

Even before they stepped through the door, Zhong Jiarong’s voice carried into the kitchen.

“Guess what we found? Lemons and mint—ha! We’re making lemon mint tea!”

Zhou Caizhe added, “Brother Ze and I were almost mistaken for thieves. Seriously. We owe it all to Xiao Lu—he danced for the locals and saved our butts. Managed to trade for the lemons and mint too.”

Zhong Jiarong laughed with schadenfreude, “I told you not to go in there aggressively! You insisted on picking someone else’s mint.”

Wu Heze looked exasperated, “I didn’t know it was someone’s garden—I thought it was wild. Honestly, we really owe Xiao Lu. We would’ve been so embarrassed if he hadn’t stepped in.”

Lu Lecheng, still slightly flushed from the earlier dancing, was now getting praised by everyone. He quickly waved it off.

“No, no. I’m just happy I could help.”

Just then, Shi Cha walked out of the kitchen carrying a dish.

Zhong Jiarong caught a whiff of the food and immediately rushed to the dining table—completely unbothered by being over fifty.

“Is dinner ready? Just in time! I always say—it’s not about coming early, it’s about showing up at the perfect moment!”

The rest of the group followed him into the kitchen to help bring out the dishes and rice.

Lu Lecheng, momentarily left behind, felt a bit left out, but quickly pulled himself together and joined in the effort.

After a long day, the meal was thoroughly satisfying.

After dinner, Zhong Jiarong patted his belly and said:

“Sigh, I probably gained two more pounds from that meal. Xiao Shi Cha, your cooking is even better than my wife’s. Whoever ends up with you is in for a real treat.”

Wu Heze teased from the side, “Aren’t you afraid your wife will hear that and make you cook for yourself from now on?”

Zhong Jiarong immediately turned to the director and asked, “This is live, right? Can we cut that part out?”

When the director shook his head, Zhong Jiarong instantly regretted his words.

The whole room burst into laughter.

Everyone sat around with their freshly made lemon mint tea, chatting and sipping as they relaxed. Once the group had rested enough, Director Qi suggested they play a game to get moving a little.

Zhong Jiarong was the first to protest, “No way. I’m too old for that. Respect the elderly and care for the young—I need to rest.”

Director Qi laughed and said, “You’re not that old.”

Zhong Jiarong immediately changed his tune, “Then I’m one of the young ones!”

That set everyone off laughing again.

But Director Qi didn’t push it further, “Actually, this activity might really not be suitable for Brother Rong.”

The game he suggested was a five-player team competition—in simple terms, a Peak five-stack.

Peak was the competitive game that Lin Ran had won a championship in, and it had become an Olympic esports event five years ago.

In the first Olympic appearance, China just missed the championship and came in second. In the second Olympics—where Lin Ran competed—he led Team LL to victory, earning China the gold medal.

The moment the group heard they’d be playing Peak with Lin Ran, everyone except Shi Cha cheered in excitement. Even though Zhong Jiarong didn’t play, he still loved to watch.

Zhou Caizhe and Lu Lecheng were both in their twenties. While not as skilled as Lin Ran, they played Peak from time to time in their free hours.

Wu Heze, though already 33, was a huge esports fan. He’d been playing Peak since its release over a decade ago. Although his skills hadn’t improved much over the years, his passion hadn’t dimmed.

In contrast to everyone’s excitement, Shi Cha’s reaction was rather indifferent.

Seeing this cold attitude, some viewers in the livestream couldn’t help themselves and started posting critical comments:

[“Ran Shen treats him so kindly, and this is how he reacts? That’s way too cold.”]

[“Maybe he just doesn’t know how to play. That’d explain why he looks so unenthusiastic.”]

[“Our Chengcheng is already ranked at King level, and I heard Zhou Caizhe’s rank isn’t low either. Not sure about Wu Heze. Are they seriously going to carry a Bronze with a team of Champions and Kings?”]

[“No worries—our Chengcheng has strong legs for him to cling to!”]

But at that moment, what Shi Cha was really thinking was—

I absolutely cannot log in using my livestream account [LR Is The Best]!

He did not want to expose himself in front of everyone.

The production team quickly set up five computers.

Everyone started taking their places.

Lin Ran was, without question, the team’s mid-laner.

Lu Lecheng’s face flushed with excitement as he eagerly claimed the marksman role without hesitation.

Zhou Caizhe chose the top lane.

Wu Heze glanced at the remaining roles—jungler and support. Honestly speaking, with his current skill level, he couldn’t handle jungling at all. But playing a soft support wouldn’t be a problem.

So he turned to Shi Cha and asked, “Xiao Shi, can you play jungle?”

Shi Cha hadn’t picked a role yet. He hadn’t expected that the last one left would actually be his favorite—jungler.

He nodded in response, signaling his agreement.

Wu Heze, now reassured, happily took the support position.

The team even sat down in the same order as an official match lineup.

As Wu Heze put it, “We’re playing with a champion, so even if it’s just a casual game, we’ve got to treat it like the real deal—world championship standards!”

The livestream chat exploded with waves of viewers spamming: [“The mindset!”]

Once they were seated, Shi Cha ended up sitting right next to Lin Ran.

Everyone began logging into the game. Shi Cha logged in using a side account.

This account had originally been created when Du Yan saw him playing Peak and asked him to carry him. But Du Yan only played for two months before quitting. Since then, the account had remained in Shi Cha’s hands.

As for its rank?

Naturally, it was at the low-tier—Bronze.

After logging in, the group immediately formed a team.

When Shi Cha saw Lin Ran’s account was named [Cha Buduo], his heart skipped a beat.

Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw Lin Ran open his friend list and scroll down to an avatar named [LR Is The Best], pausing on it for a moment.

The avatar was grayed out, meaning the account was offline.

Lin Ran lingered for a few seconds before closing the friend list.

In the livestream chat:

[“What was Ran shen just looking at in his friend list?”]

[“Huh, I’ve never seen this alt of his before, but why does it feel so familiar?”]

[“Same! It looks really familiar!”]

[“[LR Is The Best] is that voice streamer called “Cun Yao,” right? And didn’t [LR Is The Best] and [Cha Buduo] duo together before?”]

[“I can confirm—[LR Is The Best] is Cun Yao! I just didn’t expect [Cha Buduo] to be Ran-Shen. I’m tearing up—they were secretly duoing while I didn’t even know they knew each other! I’m going to go watch old VODs and dig for crumbs now!”]

[“To the girl who ships LinYao (Lin Ran × Cun Yao), hold up! Come join our CP cult first!”]

[“No, I will proudly raise the flag of “LinShi CP”!”]

---

Author’s Note:

Shi Cha: You all don’t have to be this emotionally invested. I’m scared!

---

---

Chapter 12 – Can I try?

---

When Shi Cha dismounted with Lin Ran’s support, Lu Lecheng had already gotten off his horse and was standing nearby.

Seeing that Lin Ran’s gaze had been on Shi Cha the entire time, Lu Lecheng couldn’t help but say sourly, “Shi Cha, didn’t you say you weren’t participating?”

Shi Cha glanced quietly at Lin Ran beside him. “I was just experiencing it. I wasn’t the one who passed the challenge.”

What Lu Lecheng cared about wasn’t whether Shi Cha completed the task or not—it was the fact that Lin Ran had stayed with Shi Cha the whole time. One could imagine the kind of buzz Shi Cha would be getting online now.

Back in school, Lu Lecheng had always been overshadowed by Shi Cha. Now that Shi Cha had chosen not to enter the entertainment industry while he did, Lu thought he’d finally escaped the nightmare of always being second best. He never expected that his first variety show appearance would bring him face-to-face with Shi Cha again.

Truly, enemies were bound to cross paths.

He shot a glance at Shi Cha and said with a hint of sarcasm, “Brother Lin Ran really takes good care of you.”

Lin Ran smiled lightly. “Shi Cha’s older brother asked me to look after him. Naturally, I’ll do my best.”

Lu Lecheng didn’t quite believe that. He felt like there was something off about the way those two interacted. But since Lin Ran had spoken, he couldn’t say anything more.

Shi Cha, who had been somewhat dazed and fluttery from Lin Ran’s earlier guidance, suddenly fell silent when he heard those words.

His eyelashes trembled slightly.

So it really was only because of his older brother that Brother Lin Ran treated him like this.

Lin Ran, meanwhile, had just taken the task completion card from a staff member and didn’t notice Shi Cha’s reaction.

“Because the other group’s challenge included four parts, yours will now be changed to four as well. One part of the Six Arts of the Gentleman, ‘Music’, still remains. You’ll need to complete this challenge.”

After Shi Cha’s team earned three task cards, the program team announced a new requirement—they needed to complete one more to finish.

The challenge for “Music” was located in a music room.

This music room was unlike the others. It was a three-story building filled with all kinds of traditional instruments—pipa¹, guzheng², guqin³, erhu⁴, suona⁵, dizi⁶, and xiao⁷—everything one could imagine.

The sheer variety dazzled everyone.

The moment they entered the music room, Lu Lecheng’s heart sank. After touring the entire building, he realized he had been right.

All the instruments displayed here were traditional. He had learned guitar before—useless here.

Even the boy group dance and song he had practiced recently felt completely out of place.

This “Music” challenge was not going to be as simple or smooth as he had hoped.

That realization made Lu Lecheng immediately irritable.

Could it be that they would really return empty-handed?

The shop owner was a beautiful woman also dressed in hanfu. As she walked over gracefully, it was as if she had stepped out of a painting.

Her movements were light and elegant, and her steps made no sound.

She gave a gentle bow, her demeanor poised and refined. Lin Ran and Shi Cha quickly cupped their fists in return.

The two of them—one with a treasured sword in hand, the other holding a jade flute—exuded a charming and confident aura. One was elegant and carefree, the other spirited and full of youthful vigor.

Only Lu Lecheng, frowning and looking around, didn’t notice what was happening. By the time he realized and hastily returned the bow, everyone had already stood up.

His delayed reaction looked a little comical.

Still, no one made a fuss about it—only Lu Lecheng himself felt his face burning with embarrassment.

The shop owner stepped over to a massive konghou⁸ (a traditional Chinese harp) and began playing Spring River in the Flower Moon Night.

When the piece ended, she gave a slight nod to the group, then presented the challenge.

“I wonder if any of you would be willing to perform a piece with me? You may choose the song.”

[“Wow, she’s gorgeous! Forgive my ignorance—I can only drool!”]

[“I know who she is! That’s Guan Sha, the granddaughter of Tang Congyun, the national treasure-level konghou master! She won the gold medal in a national classical music competition. Not only is she beautiful—her music is amazing!”]

[“No wonder! So she’s Tang Congyun’s granddaughter. Didn’t Lu Lecheng say he wanted to participate in the ‘Music’ challenge of the Six Arts? Can he handle it now?”]

[“From what I know, Lu Lecheng can sing, dance, and play some instruments, but in past talent shows, he used Western instruments like the piano and guitar. Asking him to suddenly perform with a konghou… that might be a stretch.”]

Even Lu Lecheng’s fans didn’t dare flood the screen with supportive comments. After all, even they weren’t confident.

Lu Lecheng’s face turned a bit grim when he heard the challenge. But since he had already made bold claims earlier, and hadn’t stood out in any of the challenges so far today, he couldn’t afford to back out now.

If he gave up again, how would he explain it to his fans?

He quickly weighed the consequences, then turned to Guan Sha and asked, “Would it be possible to use a guitar?”

Guan Sha didn’t seem surprised. After all, this challenge—arranged through the program—was mainly meant to promote the traditional konghou to a broader audience.

“Of course. I happen to have a personal guitar. I’ll have someone bring it over.”

Guan Sha graciously helped resolve Lu Lecheng’s instrument issue right away.

While waiting for the guitar, the two of them discussed what song to perform. In the end, they chose a popular song that Lu Lecheng was very familiar with.

When Lu Lecheng’s fans saw their idol and the beautiful musician finalizing the performance, they quickly flooded the comments to support him—drowning out the earlier ones that had doubted his ability.

A few minutes later, the performance began, with Lu Lecheng playing first, followed by Guan Sha joining in.

At first, the duet was harmonious, but as they continued, it became obvious that Lu Lecheng was struggling to keep up with Guan Sha’s rhythm.

Guan Sha, trained directly by a national-level konghou master, was clearly in a different league from Lu Lecheng, who had only learned guitar as a hobby for a couple of years.

Even though Guan Sha was deliberately adjusting her pace to accommodate him, Lu Lecheng still felt immense pressure—sweat began to bead on his forehead.

The more he tried to impress on camera, the more anxious he became—and the more prone he was to making mistakes. At the climax of the piece, he plucked a little too forcefully, and with a sharp, jarring twang, the pick snapped a guitar string.

[“Wow, that guitar isn’t cheap! The lowest price I’ve seen online is half a million yuan!”]

[“Oh my god, that expensive?! Now I’m curious—how much is that konghou in the lady’s hands?”]

[“That konghou is a custom-made piece by a master. It’s one of a kind—asking for its price is just tacky.”]

The livestream chat lit up with amused commentary.

At the venue, sweat slid down Lu Lecheng’s face. Even though he didn’t own such an expensive guitar, he knew enough to recognize its value.

“Miss Guan, I’m so sorry—I’ll pay for the damages.”

But Guan Sha simply smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”

Then she turned toward Lin Ran and Shi Cha, who had been quietly enjoying the performance from the side. “Since the duet was interrupted…”

“Shi Cha, why don’t you give it a try?” Lin Ran looked toward him. “I heard from your brother that you studied the Dizi for a while.”

Shi Cha didn’t dwell on how much Lin Ran seemed to know.

He nodded slightly. The Dizi in his hand wasn’t just a prop—it was a real instrument.

Looking at Guan Sha with a serious expression, he said, “I can give it a try. Let’s do Fishermen’s Song at Dusk. I remember Master Tang Congyun once performed this piece with Master Song Jingyi using konghou and Dizi.”

Originally, Guan Sha had intended to say that even though the duet was interrupted, they could consider the challenge passed. She hadn’t expected them to request another performance.

Even more surprising was the fact that this exceptionally handsome young man had picked the very piece her grandmother had once performed with Master Song Jingyi.

That piqued her interest.

What started as a simple intent to showcase the konghou and promote traditional music now became a genuine desire to perform a meaningful duet.

But the livestream audience didn’t all feel the same—especially Lu Lecheng’s fans.

Their idol had just failed, and now someone else was stepping up? If he succeeded, wouldn’t that be a slap in the face?

[“Does Shi Cha even know what he’s doing? Forget Guan Sha’s level—how dare he compare himself to Master Song Jingyi?”]

[“LOL, who gave Shi Cha that kind of confidence? I’m going straight to Master Song Jingyi’s Weibo to report someone trying to ride his coattails.”]

[“…”]

Shi Cha had no idea about the mocking comments scrolling across the livestream. At the moment, he was already standing beside Guan Sha, both of them ready to begin.

Before long, the clear and gentle tones of the konghou—like flowing jade—filled the room. At the same time, the bright and melodic sound of the Dizi followed suit.

The two instruments complemented each other—at times crisp and pleasant, at times graceful and tender, and sometimes low and mournful.

As the piece came to an end, the Dizi’s sound gradually softened. The listeners seemed to see the setting sun, fishing boats docking for the night, and distant songs fading into silence.

With the final note played, everyone took a moment to linger in the atmosphere. Then, led by Lin Ran, they broke into applause.

In the livestream, the barrage of comments had gradually faded away as the music began. It wasn’t until the applause started that viewers began to peek back in.

[“Sorry, I don’t know music, so I’ll just say two words: “So. Damn. Good.””]

[“Can any professionals explain how good Shi Cha’s Dizi playing really was? All I know is—it sounded amazing.”]

[“Breaking news! Someone just went to Master Song Jingyi’s Weibo and told him that some guy named Shi Cha was shamelessly trying to ride his coattails. And Master Song actually replied!”]

[“Master Song said that although Shi Cha only studied for a year, he is indeed his student. He was the one who gave Shi Cha the courage!”]

[“???”]

[“!!!”]

[“……”]

As soon as those words were posted, the mocking comments aimed at Shi Cha vanished without a trace.

Back in the music room, Shi Cha and Guan Sha bowed to thank the audience. At the same time, Shi Cha received the final pass card from her.

With all the tasks completed, Lin Ran looked at Shi Cha with clear admiration in his eyes. Shi Cha, on the other hand, lowered his head slightly, still unused to so many eyes fixed on him.

Only Lu Lecheng looked as though he were grinding his teeth to dust.

When they arrived at the designated meeting point set by the production team, they discovered that the other group—Zhong Jiarong and his team—had already arrived.

After chatting, they found out that Zhong Jiarong’s group had been assigned the “qin, qi, shu, hua” challenges (zither, chess, calligraphy, painting).

Zhong Jiarong had some skill in chess and managed to compete decently, but when it came to playing the zither, calligraphy, or painting, there was no comparing them to professionals.

In the end, Wu Heze simply drew a few stick-figure ducks and handed them to the art studio owner—who was absolutely stunned.

That said, their group had always taken the comedic route, so while they only earned one pass card, the entertainment value was high.

Director Qi then appeared at just the right moment to announce the purpose of the pass cards.

“The clearance cards in your hands are your ingredients for tonight’s dinner. Each card lets you choose one ingredient.”

Someone immediately noticed something strange in the wording.

“One ingredient? Are you sure it’s not one dish?”

Director Qi smiled with obvious mischief.

“It’s an ingredient. Soon you’ll each go collect your ingredients, assign tasks, and start preparing dinner.”

Lin Ran looked at a tag labeled [rice].

“Director, even rice needs to be chosen?”

Director Qi grinned even more gleefully.

“Ran-Shen, you’ve spotted the catch. If you don’t choose rice, there won’t be any rice to eat. If you don’t choose noodles, naturally, there won’t be any noodles.”

Zhong Jiarong, holding the only clearance card, began discussing with Wu Heze.

“Rice definitely won’t do—we can’t just eat plain rice. How about choosing noodles? We could mix them with soy sauce and still fill up.”

Wu Heze looked troubled.

“But I don’t eat noodles. How about we choose rice instead? Rice mixed with soy sauce should be similar.”

Zhou Caizhe listened to their increasingly absurd conversation and felt like the sky was about to fall.

What kind of nightmare cooking was this?

On Shi Cha’s side, Lin Ran also started whispering with him.

“Xiao Shi, what do you want to eat?”

Shi Cha scanned all the ingredients, then turned to ask Director Qi: “If we choose beef, do we get any side ingredients with it?”

Lin Ran understood what he meant and chimed in, “Director Qi, you can’t seriously expect us to make only one dish with four cards, right?”

Fortunately, Director Qi wasn’t completely heartless. After thinking it over, she relaxed the rules.

“You can choose two side ingredients.”

Four cards, four main dishes.

After making their selections, the six of them headed to the rental house.

Zhong Jiarong, carrying a small bag of rice, went over to Lin Ran to chat.

“Lin Ran, I noticed you guys didn’t bring any rice, and this bag I’ve got is more than enough for all six of us. How about we cook together? What do you think?”

Wu Heze quickly followed up, “Exactly. Everyone’s got some ingredients—only by combining them can we actually have a full meal.”

Since everyone was staying under the same roof that night, Lin Ran couldn’t very well have the three of them eating a feast while the others sat across from them chewing plain rice and watching.

So the group agreed to work together on dinner once they got back.

That was the plan, anyway—until it was actually time to start cooking. Then they realized that all of them claimed they couldn’t cook.

Zhong Jiarong, the oldest among them, turned out to be the least reliable.

He raised his hand high.

“I can! I can cook rice. I always make the rice at home. Leave the rice to me—I’ve got it covered.”

Wu Heze, true to his reputation as Zhong Jiarong’s longtime partner, quickly chimed in, “I can be the assistant. But don’t ask me to stir-fry—I’ll burn everything to a crisp unless you want to eat something pitch-black.”

Everyone shook their heads, leaving only Shi Cha without a response.

Shi Cha, who had been trying hard to stay unnoticed, felt all eyes suddenly on him. He looked up quietly and saw that everyone was watching.

He pursed his lips.

“How about… I give it a try?”

Zhong Jiarong exaggeratedly tried to go in for a hug, but Lin Ran casually stepped in and blocked him without making a fuss.

Zhong Jiarong didn’t mind and praised him sincerely: “Xiao Shi Cha, is there anything you can’t do?”

He was in his fifties, so calling the barely-twenty-year-old Shi Cha “Xiao Shi Cha” didn’t feel inappropriate.

Lin Ran smiled at Shi Cha too.

“Shi Cha always surprises us.”

“I’ll go get started,” Shi Cha said shyly, getting up quickly and slipping into the kitchen.

---

Note :

1. Pipa ↩︎
2. 
   Guzheng is a large, curved zither with about 21 strings. It is played by plucking the strings with finger picks. Its sound is bright, loud, and resonant, often used in lively or dramatic music. The movable bridges under each string allow for tuning and bending notes. ↩︎
3. 
   Guqin is a smaller, flat zither with 7 strings, played with bare fingers. It produces a soft, quiet, and meditative sound. Without bridges, it relies on sliding and harmonics for expressive effects. The guqin is traditionally associated with scholars and introspective music. ↩︎
4. Erhu ↩︎
5. Suona ↩︎
6. 
   Dizi is a transverse (side-blown) flute, characterized by its bright, lively tone. A distinctive feature is the dimo, a thin membrane that adds a resonant, buzzing quality to its sound. ↩︎
7. 
   Xiao is a vertical, end-blown flute known for its soft, mellow, and meditative tone. It is typically made of bamboo and held vertically when played. ↩︎
8. Konghou ↩︎

---

---

Chapter 11 – The Main Character Delivers the Sweet Moment

---

The ancient town was a well-known tourist destination, and since it was the weekend, the streets were crowded with visitors. Walking down the narrow roads, Shi Cha kept bumping into people coming and going.

Just as he was getting frustrated, Lin Ran suddenly moved closer and used his body to shield him from the crowd.

“You—”

Before he could finish, Lin Ran pointed ahead to a sign. “That’s the horseback archery field up there. Let’s hurry over.”

Shi Cha had no choice but to let Lin Ran escort him forward.

The horseback archery field was a bit of a walk away, and it took them quite a while to reach it.

A short wall surrounded the field. Once inside, they realized that although the area wasn’t very large, it had everything it needed: a command platform, feeding troughs, a racetrack, archery targets, and more.

The staff member at the field was a young guy who looked like a fan of Lin Ran. The moment they entered, he came rushing over. Without even waiting for Lin Ran to speak, he started rattling off the rules like pouring beans out of a bamboo tube.

“There are two challenges here. First is horseback riding—you’ll need to ride around the field three times. Keep in mind, you have to run, not just trot slowly. Second is over there: a target 50 meters away. You need to hit it three times. It doesn’t have to be a bullseye—just don’t miss the target completely, and you pass.”

The young man’s eyes sparkled with admiration as he looked at Lin Ran, clearly unaware of how unreasonable his expectations sounded.

The first challenge was manageable—for someone who had ridden horses a few times, it was at least doable.

But hitting a target from 50 meters away was another story. These days, very few people practiced with traditional bows.

Even the targets at the National Games were only about 70 meters away. For a variety show talent segment, setting a 50-meter target was pretty intense.

Shi Cha glanced at the target in the distance, feeling a bit uneasy. Although they only needed to avoid missing the target entirely, even after practicing all afternoon, he might not be able to land a hit.

Unexpectedly, Lin Ran didn’t object to the young man’s challenge at all. He glanced at the horses by the stable, pointed toward one of them, and chose the most beautiful and robust white horse.

“That one.”

The young man was startled. He tried to advise him tactfully, “Ran-shen, Silver Frost is our best horse, but her temper isn’t great. Are you sure you don’t want to choose another one?”

“No need. I like her.”

With that, Lin Ran walked straight to the white horse named Silver Frost and gently patted her head, trying to bond with her.

While Lin Ran was communicating with the horse, the young staffer turned to Shi Cha and Lu Lecheng, asking if they wanted to pick a horse and give it a try too.

Lu Lecheng had said earlier that he’d leave the horseback archery to Lin Ran. Even though he didn’t want to take part in the challenge, he reconsidered. After all, it might be a good opportunity to get more screen time.

After all, Lin Ran was horseback riding and shooting arrows—if Lu Lecheng just stood there watching, the camera definitely wouldn’t focus on someone who was just spectating.

If he joined in on horseback riding, he’d definitely get more screen time. The audience and fans would also think he was dedicated and not just slacking off.

He nodded while speaking to the camera, “I usually enjoy outdoor sports, so I’ll give horseback riding a try today.”

Lu Lecheng received a gentle mare from the staff and, with their help, managed to mount the horse smoothly.

Meanwhile, Lin Ran was already galloping around the track.

Unlike Lu Lecheng, who moved slowly and needed someone to lead his horse by the reins, Lin Ran was riding faster and faster.

The rhythmic clop-clop-clop of hooves stirred up a cloud of dust.

Lin Ran on horseback was completely different from his usual gentle and refined self. In this moment, he was more like the fierce and driven figure from the esports arena—full of confidence and energy.

When he finished his third lap, he suddenly yanked the reins, and the white horse reared up on its hind legs, stopping right in front of Shi Cha.

“Xiao Shi, want me to teach you how to ride?”

Shi Cha stared blankly at Lin Ran, who smiled as he extended the invitation.

It was as if he had traveled back in time to when he was a child, back when he used to call him “Brother Lin Ran.” Back then, Lin Ran had said, “Xiao Shi, want me to tell you a story?”

He nodded dazedly.

Then, almost instinctively, he reached out and took Lin Ran’s hand.

With a strong pull, he landed on the horseback—

—and right in Lin Ran’s arms.

“Sit tight, Xiao Shi.”

Before Shi Cha could react, the white horse had already started running again.

At the same time, his heart began to race wildly. He couldn’t tell if it was from the jolting of the horse or the heat radiating from the man behind him, pressed so closely against his back, that was making him feel so flustered.

The camera had already been following Lin Ran, and now that the two most handsome people were riding the same horse together, the livestream chat exploded in a frenzy of comments:

[“555, I want to be in Shi Cha’s place! Don’t stop me—let me go!”]

[“Not gonna lie, I think I’ve found a new CP to ship! I already have a name for them: “LinShi” — Lin from Lin Ran and Shi from Shi Cha. Aaaahhh~”]

[“Sis, that CP name sounds kind of… disposable. “LinShi” like ‘temporary’? Are you saying they’re gonna break up soon?”]

Shi Cha had no idea how wild the livestream had gotten. He was a homebody and barely did any intense physical activity.

After just two or three laps, his face was already flushed.

Lin Ran slowed the horse and gently rode over to the archery range.

He had no intention of letting Shi Cha down from the horse. Still holding the reins with his arms wrapped around Shi Cha, he leaned in and whispered in his ear:

“Xiao Shi, want me to teach you archery?”

Shi Cha felt his ear—right by Lin Ran’s lips—burning hot. He lowered his head slightly, exposing his elegant, swan-like neck, and gave a soft “Mm.”

From an angle Shi Cha couldn’t see, Lin Ran’s eyes were filled with amusement. He asked, as if unintentionally, “Xiao Shi, why are your ears so red?”

Shi Cha reflexively reached up and touched his ear, stumbling over his words, “I-I’m just a little hot. It’s… it’s too intense.”

“Too intense?” Lin Ran echoed.

What Shi Cha meant was that the horseback riding was a bit intense for him. But coming from Lin Ran, the words took on a vaguely suggestive tone, making the entire topic feel increasingly ambiguous.

Flustered, he said quickly, “Weren’t we going to do archery? L-let me down.”

Seeing how even his neck had turned red, Lin Ran decided to stop teasing him.

“No need to get off the horse.” The white horse’s saddle was equipped with a quiver.

He guided the horse to the side, grabbed a bow, and drew an arrow from the quiver. Still holding Shi Cha in his arms, he placed the bow in his hands and positioned his own hand over Shi Cha’s.

With his other hand, he tucked the tail of the arrow between Shi Cha’s fingers and pulled back the bowstring.

“When shooting, you don’t aim directly at the bullseye. You need to aim a little higher. Let’s try it first and see how the wind affects it…”

At that moment, Shi Cha couldn’t concentrate at all. He could hear Lin Ran’s voice, but he wasn’t processing any of it. In fact, he had no idea what he was even supposed to be thinking right now.

Just as his thoughts were flying in every direction, he heard Lin Ran chuckle softly.

“Xiao Shi, the teacher is giving a lesson, and you’re daydreaming. That’s not what good students do.”

Shi Cha immediately flushed with embarrassment and forced himself to focus on the target 50 meters away.

“Alright. Shoot!”

At Lin Ran’s command, both of them released their right hands at the same time. The arrow traced an arc through the air—

—and missed the target completely.

Shi Cha pressed his lips together tightly, clearly displeased with the result.

Shaking off his earlier distractions, he focused intently on the target. “Again.”

“Okay.”

The second shot, the third, the fourth—each arrow scored better than the last.

Soon, the archery challenge at the field was complete.

When Shi Cha and Lin Ran rode the horse back, Lu Lecheng looked so upset that he could barely keep a straight face. He glared at Shi Cha fiercely—because of him, he hadn’t gotten a single second of camera time or any online attention.

And just as he feared, the livestream chat wasn’t talking about him at all.

It was all about Lin Ran and Shi Cha. Even Lin Ran’s most devoted solo fans couldn’t accuse Shi Cha of riding on his coattails—

After all, it was Lin Ran who had personally asked to ride together, and Lin Ran who insisted on teaching him archery.

When the main character hands out the sweet moments himself, even the fans can only choke back tears and eat them up.

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Chapter 10 – The Scholar’s Six Arts Book

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Following the lively streets of the ancient town, the group didn’t walk far before they saw a bookstore and art shop with a classical decor.

“Yade Bookstore!”

Lu Lecheng, thinking himself rather charming, snapped open his folding fan with a flourish, gently fanning himself as he turned to Lin Ran and said:

“Brother Lin Ran, let’s go in and ask around. I heard this is the largest bookstore in town—it might be related to that Scholar’s Six Arts book.”

Lin Ran nodded and glanced at Shi Cha.

Shi Cha was closest to the entrance. He pressed his lips together, steeled himself, and was the first to step into the shop.

The shop owner was a pretty young woman. She had already been informed by the production team earlier that guests would be coming to participate in a challenge, and the test questions were all prepared in advance.

The moment she saw Shi Cha enter, her eyes lit up. Such a handsome young man definitely didn’t look like an ordinary customer. Then, when Lin Ran followed close behind, her suspicions were confirmed—this handsome boy had to be a celebrity. Her eyes filled with surprise.

The production team had even managed to invite top star Lin Ran this time.

Although she was thrilled inside, her expression didn’t show it at all. She greeted the guests politely, pretending not to recognize Lin Ran.

“All of our calligraphy and paintings are created by renowned artists. Is there anything you might like?”

Hearing the introduction, Shi Cha immediately froze. The shopkeeper didn’t seem like someone who was about to present them with a challenge.

Suddenly, his heart began to race, his palms grew sweaty, and he could feel Lin Ran watching him from behind.

He moved his lips slightly, putting into practice the techniques he had learned in acting class.

Yes—just treat this like a performance. Shi Cha, you can do this.

In his usual cool and quiet voice, he asked, “Excuse me… do you have a test question here?”

The shop owner, a straightforward person, saw that the guest was asking directly and didn’t keep them in suspense. She smiled and replied, “Of course we do.”

As soon as she spoke, the staff in the store—calm yet efficient—swiftly set up brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones on the three tables inside.

It was clear everything had been prepared well in advance.

As Lin Ran and the other two entered the shop, a crowd of curious onlookers had already gathered outside.

The moment Lu Lecheng saw the brushes on the table, he had a bad feeling.

Sure enough, the shop owner smiled as she gestured politely toward them.

“Our ‘Yade Bookstore’ plaque has been in use for many years. We’ve been thinking about changing it recently, and we’d like to trouble the three of you to create a new one for us.”

Lin Ran asked, “Do all three of us have to write it?”

The shopkeeper shook her head. “Not necessarily. As long as one of you completes it, that’s fine.”

Upon hearing that, Lin Ran spread his hands with a warm, helpless smile. “I’m afraid I really don’t know how to write large calligraphy like that.”

As he spoke, he turned to Lu Lecheng. “Looks like we’ll have to rely on you, Lecheng.”

However, fans and viewers familiar with Lin Ran would know that it wasn’t that he couldn’t do calligraphy—his Weibo account even had photos of his daily handwriting practice.

Though to be fair, he had never shown himself practicing large-scale calligraphy.

Lu Lecheng, on the other hand, didn’t look so good at the moment. He deeply regretted boasting earlier.

He had practiced calligraphy for a few years back in middle and high school, but he hadn’t touched it in recent years. And even if he had…

There’s a big difference between writing small characters and writing large ones—especially for something like a signboard. It’s not just a matter of enlarging the characters.

The strength, brushstrokes, and overall technique are completely different.

Lu Lecheng gritted his teeth. Since he had already agreed earlier to take on the writing task, he had no choice now but to follow through—even if he wasn’t confident.

Still, he left himself some room to retreat gracefully.

Facing the camera with an apologetic look, he said, “I’ll give it a try, but I usually only practice small characters. My large calligraphy might not turn out that well.”

The shopkeeper gave a polite smile and gestured for him to begin.

Lu Lecheng took a deep breath, picked up the brush from the table, and began dipping it into the ink.

The live broadcast camera zoomed in on the blank paper in front of him.

In the livestream, Lu Lecheng’s fans were furiously spamming the comments.

[“Our Chengcheng used to win awards in calligraphy competitions! So proud! insert proud emoji“]

However, the moment sweat began to bead on Lu Lecheng’s forehead and he finished writing the four characters, their tone immediately changed.

[“Compared to those totally talentless idols, our Chengcheng is already doing great.”]

[“Exactly! Lin Ran and Shi Cha didn’t even write anything. Chengcheng is doing amazing!”]

[“Please stop trying to pit them against each other. Ran-shen’s handwriting isn’t bad either—you can check his Weibo if you don’t believe it.”]

Once Lin Ran’s fans began to clap back, Lu Lecheng’s fans quickly backed off from dragging Lin Ran and redirected their criticism toward Shi Cha—using him as a foil to make their idol look better.

[“Our Chengcheng has way more backbone than that Shi Cha who didn’t do anything.”]

[“Even the pretty shopkeeper praised his writing!”]

Inside the bookstore, the shopkeeper smiled politely as she looked at the four characters Lu Lecheng had written.

“Very well done!” she complimented.

But she didn’t say a word about whether it was suitable for the shop’s signboard—because anyone with a discerning eye could see that it wasn’t even close to the quality of the current plaque hanging above the door.

Lu Lecheng, pretending to be humble, gave an apologetic smile. “My skills are limited—sorry to have embarrassed myself.”

The shopkeeper turned and instructed the staff to take the calligraphy away. At the very least, she couldn’t be openly dismissive of it.

However, as she turned, she happened to spot Shi Cha at another table just setting down his brush.

“Oh? You wrote something too, little brother?”

Shi Cha still wasn’t entirely comfortable when being addressed by others. He gave a small nod. “Mm.”

Before the shopkeeper could walk over, Lin Ran—who had been standing beside Shi Cha the whole time, watching him write—suddenly lifted the rice paper from the table.

Everyone nearby turned to look at the large characters in Lin Ran’s hand and immediately revealed expressions of shock.

The four characters “Yade Bookstore” were written with powerful, bold strokes. The calligraphy was majestic and dignified, full of classical grace and elegance.

Compared to Shi Cha’s writing, Lu Lecheng’s calligraphy now looked like the scribbles of a schoolchild.

The shopkeeper stepped forward to take a closer look at Shi Cha’s work and beamed with delight. “This is wonderful! My grandfather will love it—thank you!”

She handed Shi Cha the challenge completion card she had prepared in advance. “You have to keep up the good work, okay?”

As she spoke, she also gave him a cheerful thumbs-up.

Shi Cha’s ears turned red as he gave a small nod.

Thinking back on how the shopkeeper had treated him earlier, Lu Lecheng’s smile was starting to falter.

As soon as the three of them stepped out of the bookstore, Lu Lecheng couldn’t hold back his complaint.

“Shi Cha, you know calligraphy—why didn’t you say so earlier? You made me…”

…look like a fool.

Shi Cha was still happily examining the card in his hand, but when he heard Lu Lecheng’s words, he couldn’t help but ask, “If I had told you, would you not have participated?”

Lu Lecheng: “…”

Truthfully, even if Shi Cha had said something, he still would have taken part. He wouldn’t have believed he could lose to Shi Cha until the very last moment.

Lu Lecheng awkwardly covered with a stiff response.

“Of course I would’ve done it. Only one person needed to pass anyway.”

Shi Cha really wasn’t someone who liked talking, and he was uncomfortable with socializing. But having known Lu Lecheng for four years, he was at least a little more comfortable with him than with complete strangers.

And with Lin Ran around, he would unconsciously reveal his more childlike side.

After thinking it over for a moment, Shi Cha spoke seriously to Lu Lecheng.

“For the next few challenges, I’ll participate in all of them—except for horseback archery.”

Lu Lecheng: “…”

What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying I’m not even needed anymore?

Does that mean I won’t get any screen time?

…

Originally, Shi Cha hadn’t planned to show off.

But earlier in the bookstore, while Lu Lecheng was writing, Lin Ran had leaned close and whispered:
“Xiao Shi, don’t you help your family write Spring Festival couplets every New Year? Why not give it a try? Who knows, maybe your mom and dad are watching the show.”

Shi Cha lowered his gaze, remembering the huge argument he had with his parents right before graduation.

It was the first time in so many years that he had strongly expressed his own desires. Three months had passed since then, and neither side had backed down.

He had to prove to his parents that he could choose his own path—and live well doing it.

…

Lu Lecheng felt so choked by Shi Cha’s words that he could barely breathe.

He paused in his steps, falling one step behind the others.

He needed a little distance from Shi Cha—he was afraid he might say something he’d regret.

Lin Ran, still smiling, glanced at Shi Cha. The younger man didn’t even seem to notice that he’d upset someone. Thinking back to Lu Lecheng’s earlier comment on camera about Shi Cha ignoring his roommates…

Lin Ran casually asked, “I went to A University too. Which dorm building were you guys in?”

Shi Cha thought for a moment before answering.

“I don’t remember. I only went once on the first day. I didn’t end up staying—due to personal reasons.”

Lin Ran already knew that Shi Cha hadn’t lived on campus, and he also knew why.

“So basically, you and your roommates never really interacted—just attended large classes together?”

“Mm.”

Lin Ran continued walking beside him.

“Same here. I didn’t really get to know everyone in college either.”

“…”

Though Lu Lecheng had fallen a step behind, he didn’t miss a single word of their conversation.

He just couldn’t understand why Lin Ran was being so protective of a ‘younger brother’ he hadn’t seen in years.

---

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Chapter 9 – I’ve Grown Up

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When he heard Lin Ran’s voice, Shi Cha suddenly snapped out of his daze and realized he had just been lost in thought.

He quickly composed himself, reached out his right hand to grasp Lin Ran’s—who had been waiting for him to return the handshake—and said coldly and distantly, “Hello.”

He managed to maintain his aloof persona, but as their fingers briefly intertwined, the tips of Shi Cha’s ears still flushed a rosy red.

Fortunately, the camera didn’t linger on him for long. That small change was just a fleeting moment in the lens and went unnoticed.

However, standing directly across from him, Lin Ran certainly noticed.

Their fingers had barely touched before they parted. Lin Ran saw that although Shi Cha’s face remained serious, his ears were burning red, and the blush seemed to be creeping down his neck.

Just as Lin Ran was about to tease him with a smile, Zhong Jiarong, standing beside them, chuckled and asked, “Ran-shen, you know Shi Cha too?”

Lin Ran casually extended an arm and gently pulled Shi Cha, who was standing behind him, forward.

Everyone watching the gesture was first surprised, then puzzled.

Just moments ago, when Lu Lecheng had tried to pat Shi Cha on the shoulder, everyone had seen him brush it off.

Even his classmates of four years didn’t seem to get any special treatment. Though Lin Ran was currently a top celebrity, Shi Cha’s earlier cold tone suggested they weren’t particularly close.

Everyone feared Shi Cha would dodge Lin Ran’s gesture too, making things awkward for both him and the group.

But to everyone’s surprise, Shi Cha didn’t avoid Lin Ran’s touch. Though his expression remained neutral, he followed Lin Ran’s lead, taking two steps forward to stand in front.

One warm and gentle, the other aloof and distant—yet somehow, the two standing together looked unusually harmonious.

Lin Ran smiled and said to Zhong Jiarong, “Shi Cha is the younger brother of a good friend of mine. Last time I saw him, he had just graduated from elementary school. I didn’t expect him to have already graduated from university now. Puberty really does wonders—I almost didn’t recognize him.”

Everyone present was sharp and perceptive.

With just a couple of simple sentences, Lin Ran had not only closed the distance between himself and Shi Cha but also revealed he knew Shi Cha had already graduated college—something you wouldn’t know unless you’d done your homework or were genuinely close.

Zhong Jiarong and Wu Heze kept chatting casually with Lin Ran while subtly glancing at Shi Cha, who remained silent.

Since he clearly wasn’t just an ordinary nobody, they figured they should be more mindful of him. That meant including Shi Cha more in conversations, helping him fit in, and ultimately getting him more screen time.

After all, for an unknown guest on a variety show like this, getting more exposure was definitely the goal.

If Shi Cha had known what they were thinking, he would’ve coughed up blood.

Right now, what Shi Cha wanted most was for everyone to treat him like he was invisible—just quietly earn two days’ worth of pay and be done with it.

The most displeased person at the moment was Lü Lecheng.

He was already one of the least prominent cast members in this episode. When he first saw Shi Cha, a newcomer and guest, he felt smug, thinking that at least he outranked someone for once.

But to his surprise, a heavyweight guest—Lin Ran—had suddenly appeared and turned out to be familiar with Shi Cha. Now, Shi Cha was standing center stage beside Lin Ran, while he himself was stuck on the far edge, barely even captured by the camera.

A flurry of thoughts raced through Lu Lecheng’s mind.

If things continued like this, he would essentially become the “nameless guest” of the episode—a complete joke.

While laughing and chatting along with the others, he kept glancing at Shi Cha, secretly plotting how to turn the situation around.

Meanwhile, in the live-stream chat, some viewers were curious about Shi Cha’s identity, while others were already starting to criticize him.

[“This Shi Cha is really rude. Ran-shen greeted him first, and he responded so flatly.”]

Whether this comment came from a true fan of Lin Ran or a fake one trying to stir up trouble was unclear.

Regardless, it annoyed a lot of Lin Ran’s fans. Shi Cha might be good-looking, but he was still a nobody, with no fame to speak of.

[“Look at how the others shook hands with Ran-shen compared to Shi Cha. The difference is obvious. Our Lele bowed and used both hands—that’s what respect looks like. Unlike someone.”]

[“Hah, it’s not just about being rude—he clearly doesn’t know his place. Look at the current formation. The center spot should obviously go to Ran-shen and Brother Rong. Who does he think he is?”]

Some people, however, spoke up for Shi Cha—mostly because of his face.

[“It was Lin Ran who pulled him into the center. He didn’t do it on his own. Didn’t you see at the beginning? He was standing at the far edge, barely even in the shot.”]

But as soon as this viewer defended Shi Cha, they were immediately swarmed with replies:

[“Exactly! That’s why we’re saying he doesn’t know his place. If he had any self-awareness, he would’ve moved back on his own!”]

[“Even if Lin Ran gave up his spot for Shi Cha, Lin Ran didn’t move to the edge where Shi Cha was originally standing. That’s unfair to the other celebrities.”]

Positioning on camera has always been a sensitive issue for artists and guests.

This topic quickly sparked conflict, dragging all the fanbases of the various guests into the mess.

The livestream chat exploded in activity.

Back on set, Director Qi saw that everyone had arrived and finished their introductions, so she announced the official start of the show.

Usually, the six guests would be divided into three groups, each receiving a task list from the production team to complete a challenge.

Originally, Director Qi had planned to quietly pair Shi Cha with Lu Lecheng, since they were classmates. That way, Shi Cha would have someone familiar to talk to.

But now she discovered that Shi Cha was also familiar with Lin Ran.

So, Director Qi changed the game format and divided the six guests into two teams:

One was the regular cast team, and the other was the guest team.

With both Lu Lecheng—his classmate—and Lin Ran—someone familiar to him—on Shi Cha’s team, there was no doubt he’d be just fine.

Director Qi was very satisfied with the team arrangement.

None of the guests had any objections to the grouping either.

Since this episode was set in an ancient town, the six guests were sent off to change into period costumes.

When they reappeared, Shi Cha emerged wearing a pale moon-white robe, looking like a noble young master who had stepped out of a painting.

Right behind him came Lin Ran, dressed in a deep violet martial outfit and holding a sword.

The two stood side by side—one elegant and refined, the other dashing and bold—an absolutely striking sight.

In comparison, Lu Lecheng, who wore a sky-blue robe meant to look carefree and stylish, ended up looking more like the two’s manservant.

Lü Lecheng was so angry his face nearly turned green, but there was no denying his looks just didn’t compare to theirs. It couldn’t be helped.

As Lin Ran and Shi Cha walked ahead, they attracted the attention of passersby, many of whom turned to stare. Some even pulled out their phones to take photos.

Seeing this, Lin Ran subtly shifted his body to block the cameras from pointing at Shi Cha and gently asked, “Are you uncomfortable?”

While shielding Shi Cha from the lenses, Lin Ran had gotten quite close—so close that Shi Cha momentarily forgot to breathe.

He lowered his head slightly, revealing a graceful neckline, and softly shook his head. “It’s fine.”

Seeing that Shi Cha really didn’t seem too bothered, Lin Ran returned to walking beside him and smiled. “I thought you’d still be like when you were little. Seems like you’ve grown up.”

“Mm. After a while, I just got used to it.”

Shi Cha still kept his head down, but he wasn’t looking at the ground—he was secretly watching the hem of Lin Ran’s flowing robe as he walked.

His steps were light and graceful, swaying with elegance…

The consequence of not watching where you’re going? Almost bumping into someone.

Fortunately, Lin Ran pulled him aside just in time. Shi Cha avoided the passerby—but crashed right into Lin Ran’s arms.

“There’s no money on the ground for you to pick up.”

The laughter rumbled through Lin Ran’s chest, reverberating into Shi Cha, making the tips of his ears burn red.

Following behind the two, Lü Lecheng felt like a giant third wheel—worse, one that no one even noticed or cared about.

He swallowed his frustration, held the task card tightly, and walked up to Lin Ran.

“Brother Lin Ran, the card only says four words: ‘The Six Arts of a Gentleman.’ What does that mean?”

Lu Lecheng wasn’t entirely clueless—he just wanted to make use of Lin Ran’s popularity now that they were on the same team.

So what if he looked dumb?

Besides, it was just a question between teammates—hardly embarrassing.

But instead of answering, Lin Ran tossed the question to Shi Cha. “Little Shi Cha, what do you think?”

As soon as he heard Lin Ran call him “Little Shi Cha,” Shi Cha’s ears turned even redder. He muttered softly, just loud enough for Lin Ran to hear, “I’ve grown up.”

The unspoken message: Stop calling me ‘Little Shi Cha.’

Shi Cha thought that since he spoke so softly, no one would have heard him—completely forgetting the mic clipped to his clothes.

His whispered, slightly pouty remark was transmitted loud and clear to the livestream audience.

Lin Ran chuckled and changed his words. “Alright then, Xiao Shi, what do you think?”

Shi Cha glanced lightly at the task card in Lu Lecheng’s hand and said calmly, “The Six Arts of a Gentleman: rites, music, archery, charioteering, calligraphy, and mathematics. That’s probably our task.”

Lu Lecheng: “…” That’s it?

Since Shi Cha didn’t elaborate further, the camera naturally shifted focus to Lu Lecheng.

He picked up where Shi Cha left off. “Rites, music and dance, archery, horsemanship, calligraphy, and mathematics. I should be fine with the music and dance part.”

As he said this, Lu Lecheng couldn’t help puffing out his chest a little.

After all, he had just debuted from a boy group—not only could he sing, but he was also confident in his dancing.

“I’ve never learned archery or horseback riding, but I did study calligraphy for a few years, so that should be fine. Math is probably some kind of test—I scored high in advanced math in college, so that should be okay too. I’m just not sure what the ‘rites’ part will test us on. I can handle three tasks. How about you, Shi Cha?”

By claiming three of the Six Arts for himself, Lü Lecheng not only made himself seem capable, but also got to choose first—conveniently picking the easier tasks.

He left what he assumed to be the harder ones—rites, archery, and horsemanship—for the others.

And instead of handing that challenge to Lin Ran, he threw it directly to Shi Cha, clearly trying to embarrass him.

If Shi Cha chose nothing, public opinion would drown him.

If he picked just one or two, it would look like he wasn’t contributing as much.

And if he chose all three, Lü Lecheng didn’t think he’d manage—someone like Shi Cha, who practically never left the house, definitely wouldn’t know how to ride or shoot.

As expected, Shi Cha really didn’t know how to ride a horse or shoot arrows.

“I can’t ride or do archery,” he said plainly. “But I can try rites.”

Once the two of them had made their picks, Lin Ran smiled and said, “It’s fine—I can handle horseback riding and archery.”

With that, the three divided the tasks among themselves.

On the way to the challenge location, Lu Lecheng tried everything he could to strike up a conversation with Lin Ran.

Lin Ran, ever the gentleman, responded politely, though without much enthusiasm.

That gave Shi Cha a chance to breathe. Lin Ran’s presence was simply too overwhelming—he wasn’t someone an average person could compare to. It was hard for Shi Cha to even catch his breath around him.

At the same time, he sighed inwardly. If this were online, I definitely wouldn’t be acting so lame.

Up ahead, Lu Lecheng asked, “Brother Lin Ran, you’ve known Shi Cha since he was really young, right? Was he cute back then?”

Lin Ran raised an eyebrow subtly and replied without missing a beat, “He was very cute.”

Seeing that Lin Ran answered, Lu Lecheng sighed dramatically, putting on a worried expression.

“I wasn’t just in the same class as Shi Cha—we were also roommates in the same dorm. I don’t know if he just couldn’t adjust to college life or what, but he always seemed kind of down and didn’t like talking to people. In our four years at university, we probably didn’t exchange more than twenty sentences.

If he seemed cold or indifferent to you today, it’s not personal. Really, that’s just how he is, so please don’t take it the wrong way.”

Lu Lecheng put on the act of a thoughtful classmate and caring roommate, as if pleading on Shi Cha’s behalf.

He was counting on Shi Cha’s quiet personality—someone who disliked talking and couldn’t be bothered to explain himself.

Meanwhile, Shi Cha, standing nearby and being treated like air: “…”

I just don’t like talking. It’s not like I’m dead!

Hearing this, Lin Ran turned his head and glanced at Shi Cha’s profile as he looked away, smiling indulgently.

“It’s fine. I like him just the way he is.”

Lu Lecheng: “???”

Shi Cha: “…”

His ears, which had only just stopped burning, flushed red all over again.

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