Before he knew it, Monday arrived. They were to report to the variety show set the next day.
Qin Wunian, having an assistant, didn’t need to pack. Song Cheng, packing for himself, was watched closely by Qin Wunian.
Song Cheng placed his wallet in the suitcase.
Qin Wunian: “In eight years in this industry, I’ve never seen a show allow guests to bring their own wallet.”
Song Cheng quietly took it back out, then added his change of clothes.
Qin Wunian: “I’ve wanted to ask for a long time… is that outfit from the same era as that phone? The cuffs are faded white. Have Xiao Zhao buy you a few sets, I’m begging you.”
Song Cheng: “……”
Holding back a sigh, he took out the clothes. Next he planned to pack his toiletries, but paused with them in hand and looked up softly. “I can bring these, right?”
Qin Wunian glanced at him. “Sure, but it’s unnecessary. Mine are better—you can just use the same as me.”
Song Cheng: “……”
He was defeated by Qin Wunian’s consistent tone—whether compliment or criticism, it was always the same.
Pursing his lips, Song Cheng spent two seconds staring at him, then stuffed wallet, clothes, and toiletries into the suitcase. He slammed the lid with a clack, locked the combination, and dusted his hands, looking at Qin Wunian with an air of satisfaction.
Qin Wunian: “……”
The room was silent. After half a minute, Qin Wunian spoke: “I’m going back to sleep.”
Filming started at nine. Xiao Zhao arrived at six thirty with two large suitcases. Song Cheng, up that early, made himself a simple bowl of noodles. By the time he finished, Qin Wunian had just come downstairs.
In the past, Song Cheng had tried to prepare food ahead to spend more time with Qin Wunian, but he only managed three days before abandoning the idea entirely.
Song Cheng thought his own routine was healthy: up at six, breakfast at seven. On days without schedules, Qin Wunian lingered until eight—he simply couldn’t wait any longer. Even if he could, his stomach wouldn’t.
Fortunately, even if they did not eat together, it did not mean they would spend less time together—because Song Cheng could simply sit there and watch him eat.
Xiao Zhao was in the living room checking whether anything had been left behind. When Song Cheng noticed Qin Wunian slowing down, he could not help saying, “You are eating way too little.”
Holding his chopsticks, Qin Wunian lowered his gaze slightly. “No appetite in the morning.”
“…You said the same thing at noon and at dinner.”
Song Cheng studied him suspiciously. “Do you have anorexia?”
His eyes widened. “Have you been dieting to maintain your figure and ended up with anorexia?!”
Qin Wunian: “……”
He wiped his mouth and lifted his eyelids. “Look at my physique. Do I look like someone who needs to diet?”
At that, Song Cheng’s eyes drifted downward. Even in a loose T-shirt, the outline of muscle was unmistakable—strength defined in clean lines.
Song Cheng had muscles too, but only a thin layer. His abs were even more pitiful—just four, half as many as Qin Wunian’s. Staring at him, Song Cheng felt a surge of envy… and perhaps a touch of inappropriate imagination.
Noticing the wandering gaze, Qin Wunian set down his chopsticks and arched a brow.
Catching himself, Song Cheng coughed lightly and steered the topic back. “If you do not have anorexia, why do you still eat so little?”
“It is not that I eat little. It is that you eat too much.”
Song Cheng refused to accept that. “I do not eat a lot. My metabolism is just faster than most people’s.”
Qin Wunian had no particular reaction, but after speaking, Song Cheng drifted off for a moment.
He had lost his memory—but what he had forgotten were specific experiences. Common knowledge and daily life details remained intact. Every so often, a stray, instinctive remark would slip out. Song Cheng tried to piece together his past from these subconscious fragments. Unfortunately, there were too few clues. Perhaps with more time, things would improve.
It was about time. They headed out together and got into the car. Qin Wunian began reminding Song Cheng what to watch out for during filming.
“In front of the camera, always control your expression. One careless moment and the audience will latch onto it and dissect it endlessly.”
“Wherever I go, you go—unless the director specifically instructs otherwise. Do not let anyone sweet-talk you into wandering off with them. This is a breakup variety show, not a collaboration one. Be careful not to become someone else’s pawn.”
“If someone tries to steal the spotlight, let them. Your job is to go in whole and come out whole. Do not worry about anything else.”
Song Cheng quietly raised his hand.
Teacher Qin glanced at him and nodded with reserved authority. “Speak.”
“What does ‘steal the spotlight’ mean?”
Qin Wunian paused. “It means deliberately performing in front of the camera. If the cameraman is filming you, someone else runs over to get into the frame, talks over you, and turns what was your screen time into theirs.”
“Oh… I get it.”
“It is not necessarily a bad thing for you. If they take it, let them.”
Song Cheng nodded obediently. “Understood.”
Watching him like this, Qin Wunian instinctively wanted to reach out and ruffle his hair. But after a moment’s silence, he turned his head toward the window instead.
Song Cheng did not notice. He was busy mentally reciting Teacher Qin’s instructions.
The script had been sent out the day before. The director had created a group chat including all the guests and key staff. On the first day of filming, the schedule was simple: arrive, enter, introduce yourselves, chat to warm up the atmosphere. Then the director would appear and explain the rules for this round of activities.
After that, everyone would split into rooms for lunch, take a nap, and in the afternoon film one-on-one interviews by pair. While one pair filmed, the others would observe.
That was the entire first-day itinerary.
When Song Cheng read it, he had wondered aloud, “Can they really edit this into eighteen episodes?”
Qin Wunian glanced at him. “With the guests the director invited? They could make eighty episodes without a problem.”
Song Cheng: “……”
Had he forgotten that the two of them were invited guests too?
When they returned to the main filming site, the former studio had already been dismantled. The sets and props had been cleared away. At first glance, it looked like an entirely normal resort.
Qin Wunian and Song Cheng arrived at eight forty. Two groups were already there: the married couple pair and the “unforgettable ex” pair.
Those were Song Cheng’s private nicknames for them. The real names were too hard to remember. He had not retained a single one—but the tangled grudges Qin Wunian had briefed him on? Those he remembered vividly.
The main script had been posted in the group chat, but each pair’s specific instructions were sent privately. Song Cheng did not know what the others’ tasks were today. He only knew his own: play the shy newcomer, build rapport with Best Actor Liu Yanchu from the married couple pair, and emphasize awkwardness when interacting with Qin Wunian.
Qin Wunian’s task was simple: be himself. Make a cool entrance. Take care of Song Cheng, but do not pay him too much attention.
The moment he stepped into the courtyard, Song Cheng spotted several cameras. His old problem resurfaced—he stiffened in front of lenses. Remembering Qin Wunian’s advice—do not look at the cameras, look at people—he pulled himself together and focused on the married couple pair in the distance.
More specifically, on Liu Yanchu. After all, the director had instructed him to build a good relationship with him.
Liu Yanchu was thirty-seven, the oldest among them. He was a Best Actor, just like Qin Wunian—but his seniority far surpassed Qin Wunian’s. Moreover, the entire nation held him in high regard. When other celebrities divorced, it was a storm of scandal and mudslinging. When Liu Yanchu announced his divorce, the whole country wailed in heartbreak, claiming they no longer believed in love.
In truth, Liu Yanchu had never flaunted his romance much. From what Song Cheng had crammed these past few days, Liu Yanchu and Lü Ruosi had fallen in love while filming. Both were graduates of the Film Academy. They met before graduation, then collaborated on a film afterward. At the time, Lü Ruosi was the more famous one—she played the female lead, while Liu Yanchu was a supporting actor. They did not immediately become a couple after filming. It was only a year later that they officially began dating.
Then came eight years of a long-distance romance. At thirty-two, Liu Yanchu married Lü Ruosi. Even though they had never publicly flaunted their affection, the mere fact that they had stayed quietly together for eight years without a single scandal was sweet enough for the audience to savor.
Yet just like their understated marriage announcement, two years later they released a low-key divorce statement. No reason given. No public quarrel. A clean, tidy separation. The entire nation was left burning with curiosity—what on earth had led to their divorce?
It was a question Song Cheng wished he could ask himself. He, too, wanted to know what had made him divorce Qin Wunian in the first place.
Liu Yanchu had brought only a single suitcase, much like Song Cheng. One hand rested casually on its handle as he chatted with the singer from the “unforgettable ex” pair. Lü Ruosi, however, had brought two suitcases—one large and one small—and stood a considerable distance from Liu Yanchu. When she saw Qin Wunian and Song Cheng enter, she smiled and greeted Qin Wunian.
“I thought you would show up right on the dot.”
Qin Wunian had worked with Lü Ruosi before. Pushing his suitcase, he replied blandly, “I would have liked to, but someone disagreed.”
Lü Ruosi glanced toward Song Cheng at his words. Before she could speak, the two from the “unforgettable ex” pair came over. One of them looked especially cheerful. With a bright exclamation, he said, “Teacher Qin! And Song Cheng—my phone has been flooded with news about you two these past few days. Come on, let us get acquainted. I am Su Yu. Would you mind following my livestream channel?”
The other, whose features were cooler and more reserved, frowned slightly. “We are already on a show. Could you stop promoting your livestream?”
Su Yu grinned. “Do you know what a joke is? Thank goodness we broke up. Otherwise my air conditioner would have been unemployed all summer.”
His expressions were animated, his voice distinctive. The moment he appeared, the previously mild atmosphere heated up instantly. Liu Yanchu walked over more slowly. Song Cheng noticed that he stopped behind Lü Ruosi before greeting Qin Wunian and Song Cheng.
Judging by appearance alone, Song Cheng could not tell that Liu Yanchu was already thirty-seven. He looked about the same age as Qin Wunian. Without even acting, Song Cheng offered him a shy smile. Liu Yanchu smiled back.
Qin Wunian knew Song Cheng’s script. At first, he had not thought much of it. But watching Song Cheng’s gaze stick to Liu Yanchu—always focused on him, always paying special attention—made something in him sour.
He stepped forward two paces, positioning himself casually in front of Song Cheng, neatly blocking Liu Yanchu from view. Song Cheng shifted to the side and continued looking at Liu Yanchu.
Qin Wunian: “……”
Even if this is a breakup variety show, could you at least show some restraint?
I am your ex-boyfriend.