Today was the fifth day of filming.
While the guests were having breakfast, the host came over and chatted with everyone. He started talking about his girlfriend.
Although Gan Yawen and his girlfriend worked at the same TV station, they only co-hosted one program, which aired once a week.
So, in the audience’s eyes, they seemed inseparable, always together. But in reality, they rarely had private time. Even if they could spend long periods together, it was always for work. Whispering a word privately was nearly impossible.
This was Gan Yawen’s first time voicing this frustration publicly. The audience’s reaction was unknown, but the other guests empathized deeply.
Liu Yanchu shared his experience: “Time’s like a sponge. Squeeze a little, and there’s always some. Don’t expect your boss to give you time off—that’s impossible. Sleep less, skip a few meals, and you’ll get your wish.”
Gan Yawen: “….”
Yang Qing: “Your advice is terrible. Sure, you might see her, but your body will suffer. You’ll end up hurting her. Honestly, there’s no perfect solution. If you miss her badly, endure it. If it’s unbearable, take a sleeping pill, and in your dreams, you’ll see her.”
Gan Yawen: “….”
Your advice isn’t even original.
With a stiff smile, Gan Yawen looked at the other guests. “Do you have any ideas?”
Everyone guessed this was a task assigned to Gan Yawen by the director, or at least an introduction to today’s activities. Seeing this, Zhao Feifei played along.
“I used to travel constantly. My ex didn’t handle that well. Some said they understood at first, but over time, they didn’t. Some said it was fine, we could try together, but eventually, the effort would tire you out, and the relationship would fade.”
Zhao Feifei always spoke in a slow, gentle voice, with a storytelling cadence that made even the most shocking words feel calm and deliberate. That was her signature style.
Gan Yawen, this time, couldn’t even muster a smile. His face went blank, and he couldn’t help but wonder if one day he and his girlfriend might end up like what Zhao Feifei described. Even though this was clearly a segment arranged by the director, Gan Yawen found himself genuinely reflecting on it.
Qin Wuyan suddenly spoke up: “If you truly care, even if you don’t see each other for ten or eight years, your feelings won’t fade. What people call the ‘period of fatigue’ is just a polite term for growing tired and seeking novelty. Admitting to fatigue is better than admitting you’ve simply grown bored.”
Noticing all eyes turning to him, Qin Wuyan lifted his eyelids slightly. “Am I wrong? Think back—have you ever gotten bored of someone instantly? There’s always that one—or maybe two—people whom, even on the day you break up, you still like.”
Everyone fell into thought at his words.
After a moment, Lü Ruosi spoke: “No, I’ve only been in one relationship. My sample size is too small to say anything statistically.”
Yang Qing, who had been lost in her own memories, widened her eyes at that. She glanced at Lü Ruosi, then at Liu Yanchu: “Wait, Liu Laoshi was your first love?!”
Liu Yanchu: “…Your tone makes it sound like you look down on me.”
Yang Qing shook her head repeatedly: “No, no. Which girl in her youth wouldn’t want to date a boy in plain brown shorts and a white undershirt, dressed like her father?”
Liu Yanchu: “…………”
A few days ago, he had wandered around in that outfit, and Yang Qing had laughed at him for a full five minutes—he hadn’t expected her to remember.
Su Yu propped up her face and asked with a smile: “Then, Liu Laoshi, how many girls have you dated?”
Liu Yanchu went into recollection, squinting slightly: “Too many to count. From kindergarten on, maybe around a hundred.”
That clearly wasn’t true, so Su Yu just teased with a smile. Just as the topic was about to veer off-track, Gan Yawen jumped in to steer it back.
“All right, all right. We’re talking about me, not Liu Laoshi. Su Yu, you and Yue Yuran have been together a long time. How do you balance your respective schedules?”
Su Yu didn’t answer immediately, seeming unsure. Yue Yuran interjected: “Similar to Liu Laoshi. When we’re together, we meet whenever we can. If both of us are free, we make the most of it. If not, we just chat more on our phones.”
Su Yu nodded: “We had an agreement: keep chatting constantly, never say good night or goodbye. Do what you need to do, and when it’s done, reply to each other immediately—even if the previous message was hours ago.”
Gan Yawen’s eyes lit up. “That’s good, and it sounds romantic. I’ll try that with my girlfriend too.”
The others laughed in agreement, approving the idea.
Since joining this variety show, Yue Yuran—once always the center of attention due to his exceptional singing—suddenly blended into the crowd. He was no longer the most famous, the most handsome, or the most endearing. At first, he went along with the script, barely noticing. Gradually, however, it seemed everyone ignored the director’s daily prompts. Even Su Yu would get annoyed over trivial matters. Yue Yuran had to ignore the camera and only realized later that he had almost become the most peripheral participant.
Now, with the focus back on him, he quickly shared amusing stories about his time with Su Yu. Song Cheng, sitting nearby, propped his chin on his hands and listened attentively, smiling the whole time.
From start to finish, Song Cheng took every word seriously. If it was meaningful, he even took notes. After all, he was now someone’s boyfriend and needed to learn and explore in every way to have a long future with Qin Wuyan.
The experiences Yue Yuran shared didn’t directly apply to Song Cheng. He and Qin Wuyan rarely chatted on the phone, whereas Yue Yuran and Su Yu had almost all their interactions via messages, showing just how busy they truly were.
Qin Wuyan would likely get busy too. Song Cheng had been regularly checking online opinions about Qin Wuyan. Since Zhou Qingge never responded again, even many scheduled appearances weren’t announced. People were starting to suspect she might have lied.
Meanwhile, Qin Wuyan, though quiet personally, kept both his personal and company accounts active. His posting frequency had even increased, as if to assert his own justification. Not responding is itself a form of response. At this point, besides Zhou Qingge’s fans, hardly anyone supported her. Even those celebrities who initially took a stand had deleted their reposts, pretending nothing happened.
Looking ahead, once the show wrapped, Qin Wuyan would have even more work. Song Cheng wondered what he should do.
He wanted to stay close to Qin Wuyan, but would that be too clingy? Might it interfere with Qin Wuyan’s work?
Lost in thought, Song Cheng furrowed his brow. Gan Yawen called his name, and he snapped back to reality.
Straightening up, he looked blankly at Gan Yawen.
Gan Yawen repeated himself: “You’re the only one who hasn’t given me advice yet, Song Cheng. How do you manage work and romance when both parties are so busy?”
Song Cheng finally understood. After thinking for a moment, he said:
“You can’t have both, really. A day only has so many hours. If you give time to one, the other suffers. I think it’s a false dilemma—humans have faced it for centuries and never solved it. The real question is, which are you willing to sacrifice, and which matters more to you?”
The other seven people blinked, then all turned at the same time to look at Gan Yawen.
Gan Yawen: “…………”
This really shouldn’t be happening. He was just an innocent host—why did a life-or-death question have to land on him?
Cold sweat was practically pouring down his back. The director considered this segment pretty important, and with a moment this explosive, there was no way it would get edited out. Which meant his girlfriend would definitely see how he answered.
The others watched the tortured expression on his face and couldn’t help mentally lighting a candle for him, while also becoming even more curious about what he’d say next.
“Work… and my girlfriend are both extremely important to me. But if I really have to choose, then I think I might… sacrifice my girlfriend.”
All eight guests drew out a long “Ooooh” at the same time.
Gan Yawen: “……”
“Let me finish,” he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “I have confidence in our relationship, and I also know that in her heart, her career is just as important. If I want to walk this road with her, then I can’t ask either of us to sacrifice our time at a moment like this. If she sacrificed hers, I’d feel guilty. And if she regretted it later, our relationship would be over anyway. If I sacrificed mine, it would be the same. I know this is a gamble—and what I’m gambling with is our relationship. But I’m willing to put all my chips on the table, just to bet that we’ll win.”
After he finished that last sentence, the atmosphere went quiet for two seconds. Then someone started clapping, and soon everyone was applauding Gan Yawen.
Listening to the applause, Gan Yawen finally relaxed and smiled. He had made it through that round.
Yang Qing even walked over and patted him on the shoulder. “That was beautifully said.”
Gan Yawen smiled. “Thanks. I meant every word.”
Yang Qing nodded. “Let’s hope your girlfriend doesn’t realize that all your chips are actually just one chip—her.”
Gan Yawen: “……”
In any case, the segment was over. No one knew why the director had suddenly added this bit after breakfast. When nine o’clock arrived, the thoroughly tormented Gan Yawen finally served the guests their real meal.
The fifth day of filming was scheduled as a rest day. There were no competitions today—just eating, drinking, and having fun. The amusement park had arranged all kinds of activities for them: watching a magical fairy-tale play, interacting up close with rare animals, and meeting with fans.
Aside from the fan meeting, everything else was basically free time. The director hadn’t required them to stick together, so everyone could go do their own thing if they wanted.
While watching the fairy-tale play, Song Cheng looked completely distracted. After they came out, while walking through the “Animal Kingdom” themed area, Song Cheng bought a portion of grass cakes to feed the goats.
It wasn’t a real zoo after all. Even though Gan Yawen had said the animals were “rare,” in Song Cheng’s eyes, none of them were as rare as the Qin Wunian standing beside him.
Qin Wunian kept a bit of distance from him. He managed to stay quiet for two minutes, but after that he couldn’t hold back anymore.
“What are you thinking about?”
Song Cheng paused with the grass cake in his hand, then extended it forward again. “Nothing.”
Qin Wunian didn’t believe him. He glanced at Song Cheng a couple of times and said, “Did Gan Yawen’s question get to you?”
There was tension in his tone that even he didn’t realize was there. They had only confirmed their relationship a day ago, yet he felt even more on edge than before. It was as if every little thing could set off alarm bells in his mind. Because he kept feeling like, at any moment, Song Cheng might change his mind.
As for that “secret” Song Cheng said he would tell him after they went back—honestly, Qin Wunian hadn’t paid it much attention. When he heard that sentence, the only thing left in his head was the phrase change his mind.
Ever since Gan Yawen asked that question, Qin Wunian had felt something was wrong. He tried to steer the conversation back in another direction, but it didn’t work. No one supported his viewpoint.
That was because his thinking was too extreme. In his eyes, any feelings that could fade with time weren’t real feelings at all. But not everyone could be like him.
The cameraman was right behind them. Song Cheng glanced back before saying to Qin Wunian, “No… I was just thinking about the past.”
Alarm bells immediately went off in Qin Wunian’s head. “What in the past?”
This time Song Cheng caught the tension in his voice. He turned and looked at him in confusion. After a moment, he said slowly, “Well… I was thinking that other people all have times when they’re apart more than they’re together. But the two of us…”
He spoke very slowly, because he was watching Qin Wunian’s expression as he talked. But he was destined to be disappointed. Qin Wunian listened without any change in expression—he even looked a little puzzled about what Song Cheng was trying to say.
Song Cheng looked defeated. “Didn’t we ever have times like that before, when we were apart more than we were together?”
Qin Wunian froze for a moment, and finally showed a faintly complicated reaction.
He looked at the goat that was devouring food like crazy and said, “That couldn’t be helped. You were in school, and I had work. Back then I thought it wouldn’t always be like that. Once you graduated—or once I’d won every award there was to win—then we’d have more time.”
At that point he gave a self-mocking smile.
“You think of that as being apart more than together. But in my head, I hardly remember the times we were apart. I only remember the times we were together—and those days when I was counting the stars and the moon, waiting for us to meet again.”
Song Cheng was stunned.
The phrase love is enough to live on really suited Qin Wunian. Once his hopeless-romantic brain kicked in, he could only see the moments that made him feel sweetness. Maybe that was why he had managed to go an entire year without getting any real status, yet still happily considered himself a boyfriend.
A normal person, when they realized the other party always avoided that topic, would have started to worry.
But Qin Wunian didn’t. He buried that worry deeper and deeper, enjoying only the surface sweetness—until Song Cheng struck like a Luoyang shovel, turning all that hidden anxiety into something solid and digging it completely out.
In a single day, he went from heaven to hell.
The sweeter that year had been, the more bitter the four years that followed became.
For someone with such an extreme personality, this was truly cruel. The person he had set his heart on had never set their heart on him. When feelings that intense received no response, they could only remain buried in his own heart, rotting there and taking root.
Qin Wunian tasted the bitterness of it all. But he did have one good quality—he never blamed heaven or other people. Even though all these emotions had begun because of Song Cheng, he never blamed Song Cheng. He only blamed himself. Why did he have to be so stubbornly single-minded?
After hearing those words, Song Cheng also felt a deep sense of melancholy. But once he shook himself out of it, he was startled to discover that Qin Wunian seemed to be faintly giving off an evil, ominous black aura. It wrapped around his entire body, making him look even more desolate.
Song Cheng: “……”
Standing where the camera couldn’t see them, Song Cheng reached out and took Qin Wunian’s hand.
Qin Wunian paused for a second, then silently lowered his head and looked at Song Cheng, whose expression remained completely calm.
Qin Wunian didn’t say anything, but a question mark clearly appeared in his eyes.
Song Cheng flashed a quick smile, then just as quickly returned to his neutral expression. He opened his mouth and slowly mouthed a sentence without making a sound.
—This time will be different.
Qin Wunian’s expression shifted slightly. He pressed his lips together, then gently squeezed Song Cheng’s palm.
Song Cheng immediately broke into a grin. The cameraman behind them grew anxious watching this.
What secret code were they using now? Were they doing something sneaky? But there was a goat blocking the view, and even if he walked around, he still wouldn’t be able to capture it.
…
The fan meeting segment didn’t have much to do with Song Cheng, but he still truly witnessed the drawing power of a top celebrity in the entertainment industry.
The production team had announced the fan meeting in advance, and the fans had practically fought over the chance to attend. Just to stand in the amusement park plaza and see their favorite brother or sister walk out, they pushed and squeezed their way in. The screams were so loud they could almost pierce the sky.
Song Cheng stared in shock as the fans jumped and shouted. It was completely different from the time he had run into random passersby at the hotel. These were true fans. Their affection was intense and overflowing, like air filling every corner around them.
In that moment, Song Cheng suddenly understood why everyone wanted to be a star.
Who wouldn’t want to be liked by so many people at once?
Among the crowd, one of Qin Wunian’s fans shouted loudly, “Qin Wunian! I’ve liked you for eight years! I know you’re the best, best, best person in the world! I will always believe in you!!!”
Qin Wunian looked toward the direction the voice came from. Of course, he couldn’t actually see which fan had shouted it, but he still smiled in that direction.
It was a shallow smile with a hint of roguish charm, and the entire plaza instantly exploded with excitement.
Song Cheng blinked, and his own heart began pounding uncontrollably.
His boyfriend… was incredibly charming.
Wherever Qin Wunian appeared, everyone else naturally faded into the background. Song Cheng didn’t count among them, but even if the remaining six guests combined all their fans together, they still wouldn’t equal Qin Wunian’s alone. Only Yang Qing could barely compete a little—but male stars and female stars weren’t really rivals anyway, and part of their fanbases overlapped.
Watching the scene, Yue Yuran slowly felt a trace of envy grow in his heart.
He and Qin Wunian were the same age, and he had only truly become popular last year. But because he had Su Yu, his ability to attract fans had always been slightly weaker. That was fine, he told himself. He was a vocalist, a professional singer. As long as he sang well and his albums and concerts sold well, the other things didn’t matter.
But saying that didn’t mean he truly believed it.
They were the same golden age, both good-looking, both talented—so why couldn’t he have both popularity and sales?
The moment that thought surfaced, Yue Yuran subconsciously turned his head. He had originally been looking at Su Yu, but Song Cheng was also nearby. Seeing Song Cheng’s face suddenly reminded Yue Yuran of something Song Cheng had said before.
You can’t have both the fish and the bear’s paw. The real question is—which one are you willing to sacrifice?
After only a few seconds, Yue Yuran turned his head back. Su Yu raised his head and glanced at him, then lowered it again.
Once the fan meeting ended, everyone returned to the closed park area. They were all used to scenes like that. Honestly, they preferred a little peace and quiet for their ears.
The production team brought over everything they had prepared in advance. Dinner tonight was once again covered by the show—an open-air barbecue. They would grill it themselves and eat it themselves, without spending a single cent.
Barbecue gatherings had always been good for bringing people closer together. Everyone quickly got busy, dividing the work among themselves. Song Cheng had originally wanted to be one of the grill masters, but since he had been the one cooking for the past few days, the others also wanted to show off their skills today. So they told him to just rest and wait to eat.
The BBQ spot was right beside the beach. It was the only place nearby with such pleasant seaside scenery.
Song Cheng wandered around the table for a bit, but after realizing there was truly nothing for him to do, he walked over to a lounge chair on the sand and stretched out comfortably.
Qin Wunian was one of the people who had volunteered to grill. He was currently discussing how to use the grill with Liu Yanchu. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced toward where Song Cheng was lying down—and suddenly noticed Su Yu walking over there.
Qin Wunian’s sentence stopped halfway through.
Liu Yanchu had only heard half of what he was saying, and the interruption made him uncomfortable. Following Qin Wunian’s gaze, his expression immediately turned knowing.
“There’s nothing to worry about. Hurry up and finish what you were saying. Otherwise I won’t feel like grilling meat anymore—I’ll just feel like grilling you.”