Lu Xianqing walked in front carrying Little Tomato, while Qin Sizheng and Little Tangyuan followed behind. He leaned down and whispered to him, “Hurry up and ask your dad when he’s coming back, so he can replace Uncle Lu.”
Little Tangyuan said, “I was thinking the same thing.” The two of them high-fived in agreement, which caught the attention of the man ahead. He turned back with a smile. “What are you plotting about me?”
Qin Sizheng immediately waved his hands. “Nothing!”
“Come here.”
Qin Sizheng led Little Tangyuan in a small trot to catch up, walking side by side with him. The cameraman followed behind, filming against the light—the shot looked stunning. A tall man holding a little bean of a child, a slender, fair youth leading another—like a painting.
Paired with the cheerful theme song Traveling with Cute Kids, the scene felt even warmer.
In reality, Little Tomato, stuck “riding the tiger,” was pouting inside. Wuwu, he didn’t want this scary uncle to hold him—he wanted Daddy!
But he didn’t dare say it QAQ!
Qin Sizheng was full of resentment too. He didn’t dare say anything either, so he and Little Tomato complained silently together. Why did Xu Jinhan have to find him as a substitute? Couldn’t he have found someone just as gentle?
At last, they reached the village entrance. Little Tomato stretched out his arms and legs, wanting to be put down, then obediently stood beside Qin Sizheng, no longer wanting to be held—terrified of attracting the scary “Uncle Lu.”
Liu Mianmian lived close to He Du, and the two of them arrived together, chatting and laughing. The last to arrive was Si Qianqiu.
“Dear babies and dads and moms, good afternoon,” Wan Lai said, holding the cue card and pointing as he spoke to the massive pile of wood dozens of meters tall behind him. “This is the site of tonight’s Sacred Festival. There will be a huge bonfire here. Everyone will gather around to dance, sing, and exchange gifts.”
Then he turned his finger. “The production team has thoughtfully prepared gifts for everyone.”
Everyone looked over. On a several-meter-high platform sat five gift boxes tied with colorful ribbons.
He Du said, “You call this thoughtful? Does the production team actually have a heart?”
Liu Mianmian agreed completely. “I’ve never been this nervous even when competing. Production team, you’re really here to torture us. You really know what we’re afraid of—and you deliver it right on time.”
Si Qianqiu had finally learned his lesson this time. He didn’t jump in with accusations first. Instead, he frowned at the high platform, then glanced at Qin Sizheng.
Wan Lai’s professional composure was impeccable. Faced with doubt, he didn’t even change his expression. “We’re creating opportunities for our little treasures and their moms and dads to interact. How can you say we’re heartless? We have a heart that loves you.” After saying that, he even threw in a wink.
Lu Xianqing said flatly, “If you’ve got something to say, say it. Stop painting an old cucumber green.”
?
Wan Lai’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he withdrew the wink and switched to a formulaic tone. “…Under each pillar, we’ve placed a challenge requirement. Please draw lots to choose. Whoever completes their task first will earn the right to choose a gift first.”
Wan Lai continued, “The order for drawing lots will follow the room-selection numbers. First up is Director He.”
Qin Sizheng listened attentively from start to finish, never voicing an opinion. Even about the drawing order, he showed no dissatisfaction at all. Instead, Si Qianqiu snorted. “You’re not pulling another chicken-coop ice cellar ‘surprise,’ are you?”
Wan Lai smiled. “Our production team is absolutely fair. The choice is in your own hands.” It was a soft but pointed rebuff that shut Si Qianqiu up; he turned away and stopped talking.
【This Si Qianqiu is really something—can’t handle losing, huh? I recorded the whole livestream. Last time when the cup fell, he totally tripped Qin Sizheng. Qin Sizheng didn’t even call him out, and now he really thinks he’s the victim? If you like Room Five so much, why didn’t you live there yourself? Now you’re salty that someone else has an ice cellar? Even if you had one, would you know how to use it?】
【He’s carrying such a heavy image. If you’re coming on a variety show like this, stop acting so precious. I kinda want to stan Qin Sizheng now—he’s pretty cute and doesn’t put on airs.】
【Here we go again? Little piano-string fans, you watched your idol beat a horse to death and now you’re rushing to deliver another horse?】
【Traffic-star fans are such a mess. Director He and Sister Liu are totally chill over here, smiling while two traffic fandoms rip each other apart. Keep tearing, louder please.】
While the barrage was busy arguing, He Du and Lu Xianqing had already finished drawing their lots. Liu Mianmian smiled and went up to draw hers. “No idea what kind of challenge I’ll get. I hope it’s something simple—last season’s tasks, I really couldn’t handle.”
After drawing, she was so nervous she didn’t dare look. She held it up toward Qin Sizheng. “Fengzheng, help your sister see what it says.”
Qin Sizheng looked up. “Teach the child to sing a complete Ke-ethnic song. Seems pretty doable.”
Liu Mianmian was delighted. She turned it over to confirm, and sure enough, that was it. “Not bad, not bad. Even though I’m tone-deaf, I can at least copy along. Looks like the production team finally has a bit of conscience.”
Si Qianqiu was fourth to choose rooms. He went up, picked one of the two lots, but didn’t open it right away. Qin Sizheng ended up with the last lot. Liu Mianmian leaned over to look and read it aloud: “Without using any external tools, get the gift box on the high platform within one minute.”
?
She was stunned just reading it. One minute? Was that even humanly possible?
That wooden pole was at least ten meters tall, thin and unstable. Even if Sun Wukong showed up, he probably couldn’t climb it—and they weren’t even allowed to use external tools. How was this supposed to be done?
“Are you targeting Fengzheng on purpose?” She frowned, clearly unhappy, and looked at Wan Lai. She was Qin Sizheng’s newly minted fan now—no one was allowed to bully her “treasure.”
Wan Lai smiled calmly. “Anyone could have drawn this lot. We’re not targeting anyone. Sister Mianmian, you can’t wrongly accuse the production team.”
Si Qianqiu quietly opened his own lot. It read: With the villagers’ help, make a Ke-ethnic outfit for the child.
That was easy. Even if he couldn’t make one, he could just buy it. It didn’t say he had to do it with his own hands.
As for Qin Sizheng?
Drawing that lot meant he was finished. Sure enough, this was just his fate. What could he possibly use to compete with him?
Si Qianqiu smiled, victory already in hand. He was the real deal.
“All right, moms and dads, good luck completing your tasks! Before seven o’clock this evening, you’ll receive your gifts in order of completion,” Wan Lai announced.
Qin Sizheng asked, “Does it have to be seven o’clock?”
Lu Xianqing reached out and placed a hand on Qin Sizheng’s head, lowering his voice. “Don’t be afraid.”
Qin Sizheng was confused. “Huh?”
“I’ll help you. Don’t be scared.” Lu Xianqing gently ruffled his hair, his tone soothing.
Qin Sizheng blinked. Afraid of what? Why would he be afraid? Was there something scary about this, or were there more rules?
Whatever.
The gift was important.
He walked over to the ten-meter-tall wooden pole and confirmed again with Wan Lai, “No external tools, get the gift box on top within one minute, and it counts as completion, right?”
Wan Lai nodded. “That’s right.”
Qin Sizheng tilted his head back to size up the pole, reached out and shook it. It didn’t budge.
Si Qianqiu sneered. “You’re not thinking of shaking it down, are you? At this rate, maybe by tomorrow morning you’ll finally—”
Not… fall?
Before he could finish speaking, Qin Sizheng took a few steps back, sprinted forward, and leapt, delivering a flying kick to the wooden pole. The next second, the pole snapped cleanly in two.
The gift box landed right at Little Tomato’s feet.
?
??
Si Qianqiu was completely dumbfounded. What just happened? How did that pole suddenly break?
The barrage was just as stunned, the screen instantly flooded with question marks. No one understood what had happened—he’d just kicked it once, hadn’t he?
【What did Qin Sizheng just do? I didn’t see wrong, right? That thick wooden pole—he just kicked it and snapped it in half? Just like that?】
【Hahahaha Si Qianqiu is totally stunned. He was mocking him a second ago—now he’s panicking, right? If that kick landed on him, he’d be dead.】
【Is this a real, existing level of combat power? Am I watching a cute-kids variety show or some underground martial arts tournament? I’m so confused—how did Qin Sizheng suddenly become this strong?】
【I suddenly feel a chill down my back. Is that guy who said he wanted to French-kiss Qin Sizheng still here? You still dare? And the sister who said she’d kiss him until his tongue cramped—are you okay?】
【“On the Day the Sweet, Delicate Brat I Stan Suddenly Shifted Art Styles and Became a Violent Beauty”】
Not just the barrage—even Wan Lai himself hadn’t reacted in time. It was… done just like that?
This had been the hardest checkpoint!
Who would’ve thought Qin Sizheng would break it so easily—and he was even the first to finish!
Wan Lai held the key to open the gifts and handed it to Little Tomato. “Our Fengzheng’s dad is amazing—finished first! So the first-prize gift goes to you and Little Tomato!”
Liu Mianmian let out a sigh of relief. “Fengzheng is incredible—first one to get the gift! Congratulations.”
He Du also praised him. “Very nice, very nice. This first prize is well deserved.”
Qin Sizheng felt a little shy from all the praise. He smiled bashfully. “It—it’s just that the challenge was too easy.”
Wan Lai’s eyelid twitched. With a fake smile, he thought to himself: Easy? The director spent days designing this challenge, and it got cleared in seconds—and now you’re even mocking it as easy?
Have a little mercy.
Qin Sizheng walked back to Little Tomato’s side. When his gaze met Lu Xianqing’s, his cheeks flushed a little more. He pressed his lips together and smiled, dimples appearing, sweet enough to make anyone want to take a bite just to see how sweet it really was.
“Um, Fourth Brother, what did you mean earlier when you said ‘don’t be afraid’?” Qin Sizheng suddenly remembered and asked.
Lu Xianqing said, “…Nothing.”
“Do you need help?” Qin Sizheng saw that he hadn’t even opened his lot card yet and thought he’d run into trouble.
“No need. Go get your gift.”
Qin Sizheng smiled and nodded. “Okay. I’ll come back to find you later.”
“Alright.”
Lu Xianqing watched his retreating figure, then opened his own lot card, revealing the task written on it: Gather one hundred strands of hair from centenarians and weave them into a One Hundred Blessings bracelet.
In Wild Fox Village, there was a custom: a bracelet woven from one hundred strands of hair would grant the recipient a long life—free of suffering and worries. But it had to be made by hand; no help from others was allowed.
Qin Sizheng led Little Tomato to their room and used the key to open the door. Inside were five gifts.
He looked them over one by one and picked out the “first-prize” meant for him, muttering softly to Little Tomato, “Wasn’t it too easy? This game had no difficulty at all.”
The director behind them was practically steaming from every orifice—and he was still talking? Still talking?
With him complaining like this, the audience would think the director was an idiot for designing the challenge! He’d racked his brain over it, okay?
Who could’ve guessed that not only could he beat a horse bare-handed, he could also snap such a thick wooden pole with a single kick?
No normal person would ever imagine that!
Over on the other side, Si Qianqiu led Little Tomato through the village, going door to door asking which household could make clothes for a child, but every answer was a refusal.
This checkpoint wasn’t nearly as simple as he’d imagined. He needed to find a specific person. He randomly tried one household and said he wanted to buy clothes—only for them to slam the door in his face.
He had no idea that buying Ke-ethnic clothing was considered extremely disrespectful behavior.
The villagers seemed unfriendly toward him. Si Qianqiu ground his teeth in resentment. In this place, aside from Lu Xianqing, who was better-looking than him? Even Qin Sizheng—someone that washed-up—what did he have to compete with him?
So why did the villagers seem to like him so much? On the first day they gave him peaches; last time there were oranges and watermelons. Even without participating in activities, he could eat his fill!
Why did he get such good luck? An orphan who didn’t even know who his parents were, yet Xu Zhao scouted him into a company; Shengyu Entertainment formed a boy group just for him; in the end they even broke up the group so he could debut solo.
He messed things up that badly, and the company was still willing to promote him!
Why did all the good fortune belong to him alone?
The more Si Qianqiu thought about it, the angrier he became. He’d even heard that Qin Sizheng might join this variety show and deliberately turned down a male second-lead role to come. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. He had to let the whole world know who the real “substitute” was!
He’d struggled for so many years and was finally seeing some success—only to be casually stepped on by someone else again?
That pole had to be fake. There was no way a living person could kick it apart.
Back then, Qin Sizheng could fracture a bone just from arm-wrestling. Last time he knocked out a horse; this time he snapped a wooden pole. The production team had no bottom line anymore just to prop him up!
He had to find a way to expose this.
Si Qianqiu held Little Strawberry’s hand and walked around the village in circles. She was young and couldn’t keep up physically. In a small voice she said, “Daddy, I’m tired. Carry me.”
Si Qianqiu was still thinking about Qin Sizheng and didn’t hear her at all. Little Strawberry stopped walking and was tugged so hard she nearly fell.
“Waaah…” She burst into tears.
“What now?” Si Qianqiu grew irritated the moment she cried. This production team was insane—giving Qin Sizheng such a well-behaved little boy, yet giving him a girl who cried all day long. So annoying.
He squatted down, took two deep breaths, and asked her “gently,” “What’s wrong, Little Strawberry? Tell Daddy if you’re uncomfortable. Don’t cry, okay?”
Little Strawberry wiped her tears and sobbed. “I’m tired. My feet hurt.”
Only then did Si Qianqiu realize he’d been walking around for more than two hours. He looked down and saw that her ankles were rubbed raw by those pretty little sandals, blisters broken and tinged with blood. He was startled—if the audience noticed this, he’d be finished!
“Daddy will carry you, okay?”
Little Strawberry endured the pain and nodded obediently.
The production team usually selected quiet, non-fussy children—first, to avoid them being attacked, and second, to maintain the guests’ image. The more obedient the child, the more it highlighted the guest’s “loving” persona.
Si Qianqiu felt irritable. He glanced down at his watch—four hours left until the deadline, and he still hadn’t found a place to make clothes.
He absolutely could not lose!
Carrying Little Strawberry, he wove through the village, knocking on doors one by one. At last, he found the household that could teach clothing-making—an elderly grandmother who was very hard of hearing.
Si Qianqiu shouted, “I’m from a kids variety show! I’m here to ask you to make some clothes!”
Grandma: “Oh, getting married?”
“…Making clothes! Clothes people wear!” He shoved Little Strawberry in front of her and yelled, “Clothes for her to wear! Kids’ clothes! I’m here to—find you—to make clothes!”
The old grandma said, “You’re looking for me to be your wife? No, no, no—my grandson is older than you. Absolutely not.”
…Who wants to marry you?!
Was his taste really that extreme?
Si Qianqiu’s face nearly turned green. He seriously suspected the production team was messing with him on purpose. He set Little Strawberry aside to stand there, then used both hands and feet to gesture at the old woman. After a full ten minutes, she finally understood.
“Oh, you’re here to make clothes. You should’ve said so earlier. Come on, I’ll teach you.”
Si Qianqiu let out a breath of relief. Thank god she finally got it—otherwise he really would’ve wanted to kill someone. Damn it.
The old woman shuffled back inside, muttering as she walked, “Kids these days, can’t even speak clearly. Honestly. And they can still be celebrities.”
Si Qianqiu: ? I can’t speak clearly? You’re the one who’s hard of hearing, damn it!
【Hahahaha what is this, Dongmei? Ma Dongmei! Ma what Mei? Ma Dongmei! I’m dying laughing—poor Qianqiu gege, drawing such a nightmare level.】
【This is killing me. Even through the screen I can feel how irritated Qianqiu gege is. He’s kind of cute though, hahaha, so tragic.】
【Is the production team sick? Using an old person who can barely walk just to crank up the difficulty? Everyone else gets stuff like teaching songs or collecting hair. Qin Sizheng’s was just one casual kick and done. The favoritism is way too obvious. Gross.】
【? You’re really dragging our guy into this too? “One casual kick”? Go give it a kick yourself and show me. That pole was thicker than your broom, at least. Go kick something in your bathroom right now.】
【Your idol picked his own house. Qin Sizheng got the worst No. 5 room and still ran around at night looking for mosquito coils and palm fans to cool Little Tomato. You say there were eggs and grapes—then why didn’t your guy pick that house? You say the pole challenge was easy—why didn’t you ask to switch? Just hindsight whining. Sure, all the hard stuff is yours, your idol has it the worst, right? Ridiculous.】
【The idol is a knockoff, and the fans are knockoffs too? If you don’t drag our Fengzheng you can’t talk? Get lost!】
【Si Qianqiu looks like he’s about to curse someone out. He’s really not that “cold, gentle nobleman” persona at all. His temper seems awful. Earlier when Little Strawberry said she was tired, he was already impatient—only focused on winning, not on actually taking care of the kid.】
【Yeah, even though the camera cut away quickly, I still saw Little Strawberry’s ankle was rubbed raw. That spot really hurts—I used to get blisters there all the time as a kid.】
The old grandma took out her keys and opened the door. A smell unique to the elderly rushed out at once.
Si Qianqiu wrinkled his nose sharply, almost gagged, and immediately turned around and ran back out.
The grandma had no idea he found her disgusting. She waved enthusiastically. “Come here, kid. Making Ke-ethnic clothes is very simple. You just sew these pieces of cloth together and thread these straps through, and that’s it.”
On the table were semi-finished pieces. Of course, the production team wasn’t going to make Si Qianqiu start from scratch—this was just about participating in the process so the kids could experience another ethnic culture.
Si Qianqiu really couldn’t stand the smell. He forced himself to endure it, took a deep breath, and walked back inside.
The old woman handed him a needle. “You just stitch here… and here.”
Holding the cloth and needle, Si Qianqiu asked her gently, “Grandma, can I take this outside to sew? My eyesight isn’t very good, and it’s hard to see clearly indoors.”
“Of course you can. So young and already having bad eyesight—you have to take good care of yourself. Don’t work too hard.” As she spoke, she reached out to pat Si Qianqiu’s head, but he frowned and dodged away.
Little Strawberry was tired and hungry, and her foot hurt. She sat on the doorstep and took off her little sandals, looking at the skin rubbed raw on her ankle.
Qin Sizheng passed by with Little Tomato. Seeing her sitting there alone and crying, he hesitated for a moment, then walked over.
“Why are you crying, Little Strawberry? Where’s Daddy Qianqiu?”
Little Strawberry already liked this pretty uncle who had braided her hair. The moment she heard his voice, she burst into tears with a “waaah” and threw herself into his arms.
Qin Sizheng was startled, then gently patted her back to soothe her. “There, there, Strawberry, be good, don’t cry. Tell Uncle what’s wrong.”
“My foot hurts,” Little Strawberry sobbed indistinctly. Little Tomato cried out, “Daddy! Strawberry’s foot is bleeding!”
Qin Sizheng looked down and saw blood seeping from her ankle. He immediately picked her up and sat down on the doorstep with her. “What happened? Did your shoes rub your foot raw because they didn’t fit?”
Little Strawberry didn’t dare say that Si Qianqiu had made her walk a long way. She wasn’t that calculating and didn’t know how to blame others—she just nodded and cried.
“Don’t cry, don’t cry. Uncle has medicine and bandages—cute little squirrels and pretty little bunnies—but you have to be able to hold still through the pain for Uncle to give them to you. Can Little Strawberry do that?” Qin Sizheng asked.
Little Strawberry was afraid of medicine, but the way he said it immediately hooked her. “Mm. I want the bunny.”
“Okay.”
Qin Sizheng sat her on his lap and took out the iodine disinfectant and other supplies Lu Xianqing had told him to carry. They came in handy just in time. He twisted open the iodine bottle and said softly, “Don’t be scared, Little Strawberry. It’ll only hurt for a moment, then it won’t hurt anymore.”
“M-mm… okay.” Little Strawberry looked at him nervously, her eyes red.
Qin Sizheng’s heart ached. When he was in the orphanage, he often helped take care of his younger brothers and sisters’ wounds. Whenever he was afraid they’d cry, he’d make them little rabbits or give them candy.
Candy was rare for orphanage kids, and it worked every time.
Now he didn’t have candy to coax her with, so when she shuddered in pain and teared up, he gently patted her arm to comfort her.
After disinfecting and applying medicine, Qin Sizheng put a bandage on her. “Tell Daddy not to get it wet when you bathe tonight. And if it still rubs when you walk later, tell Daddy to carry you.”
“Okay, Uncle Fengzheng. Thank you.”
Qin Sizheng asked again, “Have you eaten anything?”
Little Strawberry hesitated, then shook her head timidly.
Qin Sizheng looked up and discussed it with Little Tomato. “We have flower pastries in our basket. Let’s give a piece to little sister, okay?”
Little Tomato immediately opened the bamboo lid of the basket, took out the biggest one, and handed it to her. “Here you go, Strawberry. You can eat this.”
“Let’s go.”
Lu Xianqing picked up Little Tomato and held him, while Qin Sizheng carried the small basket on the other side, feeling a little awkward. He tried to make conversation. “What was your task?”
“I’m not telling you,” Lu Xianqing replied.
A question mark immediately popped into Qin Sizheng’s mind. What was there to hide? Little Tangyuan immediately betrayed him, tugging on Uncle Fengzheng’s finger and whispering, “Collect a hundred hairs to braid a bracelet!”
That difficult?
Qin Sizheng’s admiration shot through the roof. In this Wild Fox Village, he wasn’t even sure there were a hundred people, yet Lu Xianqing had to collect a hundred hairs from strangers and braid them into a bracelet. Incredible!
Lu Xianqing tilted his head. “What, impressed?”
“Yes!” Qin Sizheng nodded emphatically. Even if he wanted to keep his distance, it didn’t stop him from thinking Lu Xianqing was amazing.
“How did you do it?” He was burning with curiosity. Collecting a hundred hairs from strangers? This village might not even have that many people!
“You want to know?” Lu Xianqing chuckled softly. “Beg me, and I’ll tell you.”
“…I’m not begging you.” Qin Sizheng snatched Little Tomato back from his arms and went inside, slamming the door with a “pop” to change clothes.
The production team had prepared traditional Kēzú clothing for them.
Little Tangyuan looked at the closed door. “Uncle Lu, you’re so childish.”
Lu Xianqing lifted him up to eye level and smiled. “Ask your dad if he dares say I’m childish. I might just hit you.”
Little Tangyuan turned his head and snorted. “You won’t hit me. You only bully Uncle Qin and make him beg!”
This time Lu Xianqing didn’t argue. He did want to tease Qin Sizheng—not just like this, but in other ways too.
Ways that would make him cry, cry and beg.
Dusk fell, the last sliver of sunset fading into darkness. The Sacred Festival was about to begin. The Kēzú people arrived in full splendor, their jingling ornaments sweetly resonating.
Towering flames shot into the sky, crackling with thunderous bursts. Cheers and drumbeats “dong, dong, dong” mingled together.
Qin Sizheng struggled a bit with the clothing, and only after half a day of study, with Chen Yue’s help, did he manage to put it on. He walked in, holding Little Tomato’s hand.
Liú Miánmián’s eyes lit up. She’d heard Qin Sizheng was handsome, but because of her previous prejudice, she hadn’t looked closely. Now seeing him with no airs, like a neighbor boy, and dressed in the bright, lavish Kēzú outfit, she gasped. “Oh wow, Fengzheng looks amazing! Production team, you have to film this properly. Give us some high-def shots so I can save them! Make sure there are plenty of shots together—I’ll frame them for the living room!”
Qin Sizheng blushed at the praise. “Miánmián, don’t say that.”
She laughed and pinched his cheek. “Blushing?”
“N-No.”
Lu Xianqing watched him obediently let her pinch his cheek, shyly pleading. The firelight highlighted the dark, brooding intensity in his gaze.
He wanted to tear that woman’s hand off and throw her into the flames—burn her to ashes!
Anyone who touched Qin Sizheng had to die.
Wan Lai, dressed in local attire and holding a cue card, shouted loudly, “Welcome, dear parents and children, to our Wild Fox Village Sacred Festival! Let’s dance and sing together, praying for favorable winds and rain!”
Liú Miánmián, holding Rongrong, joined the Kēzú dance, calling Qin Sizheng to join. He was worried he’d dance like a Thai boxer, so he protested, “Forget it.” But she dragged him into the circle anyway.
The firelight lit up the youth’s striking face, his dimples sweet and soft. He held the child’s hand, dancing along.
Lu Xianqing stood at a distance, watching him. In his dark, somber gaze was a trace of unfamiliar longing. The world seemed black and white to him, everyone looking the same—but Qin Sizheng was different.
Qin Sizheng was colorful.
He laughed, blushed, got annoyed when hitting others, hit hard enough to break a brow, never holding back, and wasn’t afraid to cause trouble for himself.
Yet he was also cute. When deceived, he couldn’t tell; when bullied, he obediently let things happen; if he noticed, a little acting softened him, and he would yield.
So easy to trick.
He wanted to take this child home, lock him away, layer by layer consume him. Would the boy plead in fear, begging him to let him go?
No. Even if he begged, he would die with him. Kill him, and he would kill himself—forever together.
Lu Xianqing glanced at his wrist. The wound had healed, but it itched, tempting him to draw the blade again—this time tearing flesh, stepping into exquisite death.
But Qin Sizheng was too far away. He reached out, but only touched a transparent barrier.
Outside: the sun-drenched Qin Sizheng. Inside: the dark, icy abyss. And he drifted within, unable to reach the sunlight.
He wondered if Qin Sizheng, reading those private messages, would be furious, maybe even punch him like he did the horse. He probably would, definitely.
If he stood in front of him and confessed, “All those messages were from me,” Qin Sizheng would surely beat him to death without hesitation.
Lu Xianqing’s breath grew heavy, imagining those beautiful fists smashing into his flesh, breaking bones and blood vessels—the most exquisite collision.
Blood surged uncontrollably. He almost wished to die under those fists, fulfilling his deepest desire, ending his filthy, dark life.
Qin Sizheng carried a small basket, which Little Tomato loved and always brought along. It sat to the side, out of all camera angles. Lu Xianqing approached, crouched, and placed an envelope inside.
Tonight, the boy would see it—his desire.
If only he could appear in the boy’s nightmares.
Entangled to suffocation, sinking into death together.
He Doudou danced with Little Tomato and Little Tangyuan, while Strawberry, with her injured foot, watched enviously from the side, clapping and singing along.
Qin Sizheng seemed to sense a looming danger. He furrowed his brow and turned, spotting Lu Xianqing standing apart, a figure of solemn isolation, like an island that could never harmonize with the world—a transparent wall between them that no one could penetrate.
He felt an inexplicable unease, and before he knew it, he had stepped closer. “Fourth Brother.”
Lu Xianqing’s eyes instantly drained of emotion. “Hmm?”
“This is for you.” Qin Sizheng pulled the gift from his pocket. The production team had prepared double gifts—one for the child, one for the guest. One went to Little Tomato; the other he now held out to Lu Xianqing.
“For me?” Lu Xianqing was surprised.
“Yes.” Qin Sizheng’s cheeks flushed, whether from the heat of the fire or embarrassment, he didn’t know. The light danced in his eyes, making him irresistibly striking.
Lu Xianqing almost couldn’t resist wanting to make him cry. Suppressing the urge, he asked softly, “Why?”
Qin Sizheng pressed his lips together and whispered, “I hope it makes you happy.”
Lu Xianqing looked at the small pendant in his palm—a glowing star-shaped stone, not valuable, but heavy enough to almost weigh him down.
This child thought that because of his night blindness he wouldn’t see it, and so slyly gave him a little star.
He had no idea that the one showing him kindness was a maniac, constantly fantasizing about trapping him, wanting to destroy the light in his eyes, yet still hoping to make him happy, giving him his own light.
**
Little Tomato had had a blast at the Sacred Festival. Back home, still full of energy, he went looking for his little basket, insisting on bringing it even for bath time.
Qin Sizheng handed it to him, then noticed a corner of an envelope peeking out. Curiously, he pulled it out and opened it—instantly frozen in place.
This was worse than anything before, as if the hand that had left it had already touched his throat. Fingers crumpled the paper. Who was this person…?
“What are you looking at?”
Qin Sizheng reflexively spun around, hiding the letter behind his back, choking back tears, flustered. “N-Nothing.”
“What secret are you hiding from me?” Lu Xianqing saw his reddened eyes glistening with moisture, delicate eyelashes damp, and his gaze traced them repeatedly.
“I-I’m going to the bathroom.” Qin Sizheng fled, clutching the letter, and handed it to Jiang Xi, who froze at the elegant slender script: “This person… they’ve started writing letters!”
Qin Sizheng’s voice trembled. “Does anyone on the crew know slender gold script? Texts are hard to trace—handwriting should be easier, right?”
Jiang Xi suggested, “Maybe we should tell the director, have everyone write something, see whose handwriting matches? We have to catch them and report it!”
Qin Sizheng nodded, but as Jiang Xi approached the door, he added, “Never mind, just quietly find out who knows the script.”
Jiang Xi: “Good. Staff will cooperate, but guests and the production team? Not so much… especially…” He nodded toward the room, silently indicating, “That person definitely doesn’t write it—no need to get involved in dirty water.”
Qin Sizheng looked at the shadows in the room. Could it be Fourth Brother?
He’d been with him the whole time. Even if he wanted privacy, it didn’t require such measures. And according to the original story, he was supposed to fall for Jiang Zhen, so it probably wasn’t him.
“Carefully keep the letter. Find out who knows slender gold script. After the show, we’ll ask Xu to handle it.” Qin Sizheng didn’t want to trouble anyone, so he sent Jiang Xi off and stayed in the yard to calm himself.
Lu Xianqing glanced out the window. The boy was punching in the yard, venting fear and unease.
He wasn’t indifferent to him—that was the expected reaction. Satisfaction filled Lu Xianqing’s chest as he rubbed his fingers together, smiling faintly.
Too bad he couldn’t see the boy’s anger firsthand.
When Qin Sizheng returned, he remembered that Lu Xianqing had been watching Little Tomato, feeling a twinge of guilt. At least he was here.
“Go take a bath. I’ll watch Little Tomato.”
Qin Sizheng exhaled softly.
With Lu Xianqing here, that maniac wouldn’t dare enter.
The moment he saw the letter, he had wanted to yell, demanding the maniac face him and fight him directly, not hide in the shadows. Anger surged, and he slammed a fist on the old wooden table—it collapsed with a crack.
“…” Qin Sizheng froze. That table… surely didn’t need replacing?
“Did it fall? Need me to come in?” Lu Xianqing asked from outside.
“N-No! I just accidentally knocked it over,” Qin Sizheng hurriedly replied. He didn’t want Lu Xianqing seeing the two holes—he’d surely tease him.
When he came out, Lu Xianqing was telling Little Tomato a bedtime story. The child’s eyes peeked out, clutching the blanket tightly as if scared.
“Did… did that little monkey die?” Little Tomato asked sadly.
“Of course,” Lu Xianqing replied. “It died right in front of that child, staring with those big eyes… uh.” A hand covered his mouth from behind—soft, tender, carrying a faint scent of body wash.
Qin Sizheng’s hand.
“What are you telling the child? Is this a bedtime story? Won’t they have nightmares?”
“Finished bathing?” Lu Xianqing looked back at him. Qin Sizheng withdrew his hand immediately and softly said, “Thank you for watching Little Tomato. I’ll take you back.”
“No need. Anning is outside.” Lu Xianqing stood, brushing the water from his brow, twisting his fingers suggestively and leaving one word: “Sweet dreams.”
Qin Sizheng saw him out, and just as he reached the door, his fingers suddenly felt warm. Lu Xianqing held his hand open, placing a small bracelet into his palm. “Live long, without sorrow or suffering.”
The boy froze for a moment. He had spent the entire afternoon making this, along with the blessing of a long life free of hardship, just for him? He looked ahead and saw Anning holding a flashlight, quietly guiding the night-blind Lu Xianqing; they were walking slowly together.
Clutching the bracelet, Qin Sizheng whispered, “May you also live long, without sorrow or suffering.”
**
Qin Sizheng tucked the bracelet under his pillow. He slept peacefully for the first half of the night, but the second half brought nightmares. The words coiled around him like threads, tangling his fists so that he could not move them.
He tried to cry out, but no sound came. When he awoke, his whole body was drenched in sweat, gasping heavily, and he realized Little Tomato wasn’t beside him.
“Little Tomato!”
The little boy ran in from outside. “Daddy, you’re awake!”
Qin Sizheng glanced at the clock—it was already 7:30. He breathed heavily a few times to calm himself; he couldn’t show this in front of Little Tomato.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, changing clothes. Little Tomato climbed onto the bed affectionately. “Not hungry. But Uncle Lu already came—he saw you still asleep and went back out.”
Qin Sizheng froze. Opening the door, he saw Lu Xianqing indeed sitting under the grape trellis, eyes closed, as if asleep.
Morning light filtered through the trellis, casting scattered fragments onto the man’s quiet profile. Qin Sizheng felt a sudden reassurance—if it was Lu Xianqing, no one would dare send him that kind of thing.
Though such incidents were common in this industry, Jiang Zhen wouldn’t have to experience them. With Lu Xianqing by his side, such a strong and reassuring man, everything would be different.
If only Fourth Brother were always here.
Qin Sizheng shivered at the thought. How could he think such things? No, no.
Cherish life—stay away from Lu Xianqing!
Competing with the protagonist for a man never ends well. He must survive. Live.