After explaining the rules, Gan Yawen described the prizes. First place would get 1,888 yuan and two free passes (destination undisclosed). Second place received only the 1,888 yuan. Third place slightly less at 1,288, and fourth place the least, 888 yuan.
Compared to yesterday’s stingy 600 yuan, the production suddenly seemed generous. But no guest was naïve enough to think the team had a change of heart. The first-place pass alone implied costs would only increase.
Yesterday, the director had mentioned that travel between maps was self-funded. Now, passes, lodging, and daily meals all required personal payment. Even first-place winners would still feel the pinch.
Suddenly, the atmosphere among all the teams tensed up. Everyone muttered among themselves, finally carefully selecting who would be the answerer.
Qin Wunian ignored Song Cheng’s frantic refusals, pressing on his shoulder and pushing him toward Gan Yawen. Su Yu didn’t need Yue Yuran to prod him—he stepped forward on his own. The couple team moved with their usual unspoken harmony, barely speaking, yet every decision flowed naturally. As they left, Lü Ruosi nodded to Liu Yanchu, who gave her a thumbs-up, signaling her to perform well.
The most conflicted team was the friends’ duo: Yang Qing and Zhao Feifei, one an actress, the other a model. Both had art-focused educations and couldn’t recall ever passing their general academic classes back in school.
In the end, Zhao Feifei bore the responsibility and stepped forward, while Yang Qing stayed put, looking at the three men beside her, some muscular, some tall. She tugged at her lips: “Do take care, okay?”
The three men: “……”
After roles were decided, the production crew separated them. The answerers stayed outside the board, while the “planes” stood within it. Gan Yawen presented the category board. Each plane could select a category to subtly benefit their partner.
There were twelve categories: History, Sinology, Astronomy, Geography, Film, Music, Logic, Daily Life, Challenge, Animals, Famous People, and Heartbeat.
Liu Yanchu pointed to Challenge. “What’s this?”
Gan Yawen explained, “These are questions meant to challenge yourself.”
Liu Yanchu: “……”
Just sounded like a trap.
Yue Yuran pointed to Heartbeat. “And this one?”
Gan Yawen smiled. “Its full name is ‘Playing With Your Heartbeat.’ Want to choose it?”
Yue Yuran hesitated. “No thanks.”
Qin Wunian stared at the board, silent for a moment. From the names alone, the questions seemed straightforward and non-specialized, yet he still had to choose carefully.
He asked Yue Yuran, “What’s Su Yu’s specialty?”
“International finance.”
Hearing this, Yang Qing breathed a sigh of relief—thankfully there were no categories relating to international studies, finance, or math.
One should choose a category suited to their own partner and avoid one that played to others’ strengths. Qin Wunian would never pick Film or Music.
Yang Qing pondered a moment, then spoke first: “I’ll take Geography.”
She turned to the camera. “Who’s traveled the most? None other than our model Zhao Feifei. See, Zhao Feifei, I’m doing my best—please get me safely to the finish line!”
Yue Yuran followed: “I’ll take Music.”
No explanation needed—he was the only one there with music experience. Su Yu, having worked with him for years, had surely learned a lot.
Liu Yanchu tapped his arm and looked up. “Heartbeat.”
Facing everyone, he smiled: “Winning or losing doesn’t matter. I just want to see what Heartbeat questions are like.”
“……”
Gan Yawen turned to Qin Wunian: “Mr. Qin, you’re last.”
Qin Wunian’s eyes lingered on Logic, then he looked up. “I’ll take Astronomy.”
Yang Qing was surprised: “Little Song knows astronomy?”
Qin Wunian shook his head. “Not really.”
Yue Yuran: “……Then why choose it?”
Qin Wunian explained slowly: “Astronomy is probably the hardest category here. If Song Cheng can’t answer, it’s fine—because no one else can either.”
The other three: “……”
You’re dragging us down with you to the abyss!
From a distance, Song Cheng and the others watched their teammates gesturing and shouting, though they had no idea what was being said.
After another minute, the four moved to their starting points: Qin Wunian on red, Yue Yuran yellow, Liu Yanchu blue, and finally Yang Qing green.
The blue start was nearest the answering area. Looking at Qin Wunian, already far ahead, Song Cheng’s nervousness deepened. Gan Yawen handed him the buzzer. Song Cheng’s heart pounded like a heavy metal drum kit.
Gan Yawen cheerfully asked, “Ready?”
After receiving confirmation from all four, he drew a question card at random and read: “Question: What is the city with the longest name in the world?”
“Beep—”
Su Yu hadn’t pressed his buzzer yet, but the others’ went off. He froze, glancing to the right. Song Cheng’s thumb was already pressing the button. Gan Yawen waited, realizing Song Cheng hadn’t spoken, and prompted: “Song Cheng, your answer?”
Realizing he’d buzzed in, Song Cheng quickly said, “Bangkok!”
Gan Yawen laughed. “Correct! Bangkok it is. Congratulations, Mr. Qin—you may take off!”
Qin Wunian, too far to see the answer area, could hear the host through his earpiece. On the big screen at the finish line, a massive electronic dice rolled, slowly stopping under everyone’s gaze.
One.
The others: “……”
Qin Wunian paused two seconds, took a step, and his takeoff was complete.
At that moment, the dice disappeared from the screen, replaced by a spinning prize wheel. It rotated rapidly for a full fifteen seconds before gradually stopping.
—Please perform a classic Thai belly dance for at least five seconds, remaining in place. Failure will move you back three squares~
Qin Wunian: “……”
Song Cheng: “……”
The camera feed had already switched to Qin Wunian’s follow-shot. Seeing his expression, caught somewhere between helplessness and resignation, Su Yu laughed so hard he almost split his sides. Leaning on Song Cheng’s shoulder, he said with mock solemnity, “Good thing your reflexes were faster than mine—if I had buzzed in first, hahahahahaha…”
Song Cheng stood there, utterly flustered. On the big screen, Qin Wunian closed his eyes briefly, then resignedly rolled up his shirt.
His sculpted abs appeared, the sun bleaching his normally sun-kissed skin to a paler tone, yet the raw, wild power of his physique remained undeniable.
There he was, silently lifting his arms into a classic Thai dance pose, twisting his waist slowly—extremely slowly.
Qin Wunian thought, it’s only five seconds; if I go slow, it’ll be over soon. But what he didn’t realize was that the deliberate, almost painfully precise movements—combined with that expression, caught between existential ennui and nonchalance—doubled the effect.
Su Yu really lost it this time. “Help! How can he be this seductive? Hahahahahahaha!”
Lü Ruosi couldn’t hold back either. “I can already imagine what the trending topics will look like after this airs. Didn’t expect it… didn’t expect Qin Wunian has this side of him, haha.”
Zhao Feifei, however, didn’t laugh. She simply commented: “Full of charm.”
Then she turned to Song Cheng. “Is he like this when you two were dating?”
Song Cheng: “……”
He didn’t know. Couldn’t remember.
But Zhao Feifei’s words made him tighten his chest. How could he not remember? He wanted to recall… he was dying to see what Qin Wunian was like in private, when only the two of them were together—before becoming exes.
Maybe he even danced moves that couldn’t be broadcast…
At that moment, Song Cheng’s mind was made up. He wasn’t going to wait passively for his memories to return like the doctor said. He needed to remember—fast. He had to know what Qin Wunian was like behind closed doors.
With his mind set, Song Cheng completely forgot about his nerves. The next round of questions began. He gripped the buzzer like it was the Olympic finals.
“What is the most abundant element in the universe?”
“Hydrogen!”
“Who is considered the father of classical music?”
“Bach!”
“The Big Dipper in China corresponds to which constellation in the West?”
“Ursa Major!”
The other three stared in disbelief as Song Cheng answered one question after another correctly: astronomy, geography, music, art… there was nothing he didn’t know. Su Yu knew most of the answers too, but he was slower; by the time he reached for his buzzer, Song Cheng had already answered.
In the blink of an eye, Qin Wunian had finished a third of the course. The other three were still crouched at their starting points. Seeing this, the director immediately instructed Gan Yawen over the earpiece to find a question Song Cheng absolutely couldn’t answer.
Gan Yawen calmly flipped through the cards and found a Heartbeat category question. He smiled slightly—it was guaranteed to stump Song Cheng.
“Question: What year was the chief director of That Summer After the Breakup born?”
Song Cheng’s finger, poised to buzz, froze. He looked at Gan Yawen, utterly bewildered.
Finally—a question he couldn’t answer. But the other three looked at each other—none of them knew either.
Zhao Feifei asked Lü Ruosi: “The director’s age… sixty-something?”
Lü Ruosi: “Almost seventy, I think.”
Director (internally screaming): I’m only fifty-one, you bunch of idiots!!!