ASFSODS 21

“Ahem!”

A cough snapped the two of them back to their senses. The producer stepped forward. “Let’s take a look at everyone’s answers.”

Thankfully, the producer still had some tact. He made sure to check in on Zhou Yunbai and Qin Xiyu’s group first, buying Wen Chi and Jiang Siheng a little time to recover.

Wen Chi’s cheeks and ears flushed red. He slowly pulled his head back and curled in on himself like a boiled prawn. His heart was pounding louder than anything else around him.

This time, even Jiang Siheng didn’t recover as quickly as he usually did. He sat up straight in silence, his gaze lowered to the whiteboard in his hand, pretending the accidental brush of lips had never happened.

Jiang Siheng’s stream:

[Jiang Ge, don’t pretend—you’re exposed. Your ears gave everything away.]

[Help, these two are seriously pure!]

[God, I love this ship so much.]

[That one scene had me springing up from my hospital bed like a medical miracle.]

[Wait, girl in front, what’s your deal?]

[Acute gastroenteritis. On an IV drip.]

[Why am I blushing?! It was just a little kiss!]

Zhou Yunbai didn’t know Qin Xiyu that well. If she had to write about him next, there was a good chance she’d get it wrong.

Same went for Qin Xiyu. But if he had to guess, he didn’t think Zhou Yunbai disliked much food. If he had to pick something…

“Hmm? President Qin, you wrote that Xiao Bai doesn’t like scallions? Do scallions even count as food?” the producer asked with a puzzled expression.

Zhou Yunbai looked a little embarrassed but firmly defended her answer. “Of course scallions count. You can stir-fry them with other ingredients.”

“…Fair enough,” the producer conceded. He glanced at the cue card in his hand, which listed each guest’s preferences. Zhou Yunbai had indeed written scallions under “foods I dislike.” Her own whiteboard matched, so her answer was accepted.

Among the onlooking villagers—ranging from young people to grannies and grandpas—some with sharper eyesight began to notice something amusing: the host holding the loudspeaker kept sneaking glances at the pair sitting on the far left.

Eventually, he had no choice but to go over. Clearing his throat, he stepped up to Jiang Siheng and Wen Chi. “Teacher Jiang, Xiao Chi, let’s see your whiteboards.”

Wen Chi raised his whiteboard, still avoiding Jiang Siheng’s gaze.

The producer squinted. “Whew, Xiao Chi, your handwriting’s kind of tough to read. Let’s look at Teacher Jiang’s board first. He wrote that Wen Chi’s favorite food is fried chicken, and his least favorite is carrots.”

Wen Chi’s writing wasn’t messy, just tiny. Like something written by a primary school student.

When he heard what Jiang Siheng had written, Wen Chi let out a little cheer and lifted his whiteboard even higher. “Yes! We wrote the same thing!”

Earlier, Wen Chi had been thinking hard about what Jiang Siheng might guess. Then he had a flash of insight, maybe the man would pick something from the meals they had the past couple of days. If he remembered correctly, he once mentioned during dinner that he didn’t like dishes with carrots.

Seeing Wen Chi’s joyful reaction, Jiang Siheng couldn’t help but smile too.

Wen Chi turned and immediately met Jiang Siheng’s gaze. Whether by coincidence or not, Jiang Siheng was already looking at him, the corners of his lips curled up in a soft and slightly shy smile.

Wen Chi forgot all about being embarrassed. “Teacher Jiang! I knew you’d write fried chicken and carrots!”

“You’re impressive.”

Wen Chi grinned. “Just proves we’re really go—”

Before he could finish, Jiang Siheng pinched his lips shut.

Wen Chi the Psyduck: “…”

Wen Chi’s stream:

[Go what?! GO WHAT?!]

[Teacher Jiang, let the boy finish!]

[Good couple? Good boyfriend? Good husband??]

[Pfft, yeah right.]

[Knowing Xiao Chi, he was probably gonna say good friends. (deadpan)]

[Wow. Just… wow.]

“All right, time for the second round,” the producer said, ushering Wen Chi back to his seat. “Move it, move it.”

“Huh? There’s more? It’s not over yet?” Wen Chi mumbled as he was pushed along.

He flopped back into his seat with a little sigh.

“Tired?” Jiang Siheng turned toward him and gently tousled his hair.

“It’s been…” Wen Chi counted on his fingers. “It’s been over an hour since I’ve been indoors.”

Right now, all he wanted was to lie down.

The producer had just started reading the next question when he noticed the two of them whispering again. “Ahem! You two on the left! Focus.”

Wen Chi blinked and looked up, seeing everyone staring at him and Jiang Siheng. He gave an embarrassed smile. “Teacher Jiang, let’s stop talking for now.”

Jiang Siheng gave an obedient “Okay.”

…Though somehow, he still sounded a little aggrieved.

The producer repeated, “We’ll give you five recreational activities. On your whiteboard, write down the one you like best, and the one you think your partner likes best.”

The five options were: surfing, roller coasters, hot air ballooning, glass slide rafting, and wheat field strolls.

Jiang Siheng didn’t even have to think—he wrote “wheat field strolls” for Wen Chi right away.

Wen Chi, on the other hand, was struggling. He wasn’t sure if Jiang Siheng leaned more toward relaxing or thrilling activities. His Weibo was mostly promo for dramas and movies, probably not even posted by him personally. There were hardly any lifestyle posts to reference.

Wen Chi peeked at the producer. Seeing no attention on him, he called out in a whisper, “Teacher Jiang!”

Jiang Siheng responded immediately. Before Wen Chi could even ask, he said, “I’m not a fan of thrill rides.”

That cleared things up in an instant.

Tian Yang, sitting nearby, overheard and widened his eyes. What? Can we do that? I wanna try too!

“Four, three, two, one! Time’s up! Show your boards!”

Wen Chi immediately scrambled to Jiang Siheng’s side to check his board. But his smile faltered when he saw the answer. “Ah, I thought you’d like hot air balloons.”

Jiang Siheng chuckled at the boy’s wide-eyed surprise. “Why not write wheat field strolls?”

“I thought that was too mellow!”

Jiang Siheng smiled. “It’s fine. You got yours right.”

Main stream:

[They’re whispering again!!!]

[Understood. This is peak mutual pining.]

[You can whisper all you want later—in bed! #doge]

[Who said that? Say more. We won’t stop you.]

[I can’t look away from their feed…]

They answered a few more questions. Surprisingly, Zhou Yunbai and Qin Xiyu were quite in sync, while Tong Xian’en and Tian Yang completely flopped—answering totally different things.

Tian Yang tried to defend himself. “Don’t let En’en’s quiet looks fool you. When he lets loose, he’s wild. Just ask anyone who saw yesterday’s stream.”

Tong Xian’en gave him a cold “heh.”

The banter had Wen Chi laughing so hard his eyes turned to crescents.

Tong Xian’en glanced over and sighed. “You done laughing?”

“I…” Wen Chi tried to suppress his giggles, puffing out his cheeks like a squirrel.

Tong Xian’en gave up. “Forget it. Just keep laughing.”

The villagers didn’t really get the game, but that didn’t stop them from enjoying the lively atmosphere.

Before they knew it, the sun was setting and the scent of firewood and home-cooked food filled the air.

The six of them strolled back leisurely. Nobody even asked what was for dinner.

A breeze tousled Wen Chi’s bangs, revealing his smooth forehead. Tian Yang happened to glance over and did a double take. “Xiao Chi, you actually look kinda hot without bangs.”

“???”

Everyone turned to look.

“What do you mean by that?!” Wen Chi cried. “You saying I’m not hot with bangs? That’s it, I’m chopping them all off!”

As he lunged at Tian Yang, Jiang Siheng held him back, amused.

“No, no—your bangs are cute!” Tian Yang backpedaled, laughing.

Wen Chi sulked and hid behind Jiang Siheng.

Jiang Siheng looked quite pleased having the boy retreat behind him like that. The others kept teasing, and Wen Chi would poke his head out now and then to argue back, cute beyond words.

Zhou Yunbai peered at Wen Chi. “Xiao Chi, let me see that handsome forehead~”

“Here you go.” Wen Chi boldly lifted his bangs.

Without them, his features were sharper and his aura completely different. With bangs, he was the boy next door. Without it? A senior at school. A golden retriever turned into a wolfdog.

Wen Chi’s stream:

[WHAT THE HELL—HE’S SUDDENLY A TOTAL A-TYPE!]

[OMG Wen Chi, please UPLOAD a full frontal pic like this]

[SHEEP WAS RIGHT. He’s hot without bangs!!]

[Wife just turned into husband. I’m deceased.]

Zhou Yunbai gave a long “oooh,” then looked at Jiang Siheng.

Jiang Siheng raised an eyebrow. “What are you thinking?”

She blinked innocently. “Nothing~”

Wen Chi was getting used to the no-bangs look. “Xiao Bai Jie, do you have extra hair clips?”

“Sure. How many do you want?”

“Two.”

“I’ll give them to you later.”

“What for?” Jiang Siheng asked.

Wen Chi smoothed down his bangs and answered proudly, “To clip these back. I look super cool!”

As they neared Uncle Li’s house, the smell of home-cooked food grew stronger. Auntie Li was setting dishes on the table and called out with a smile, “Dinner’s ready!”

Tian Yang ran in ahead, counting the dishes—eight or nine, plus soup.

Uncle Li came out with a plate of stir-fried greens. “You must all be starving. Come, eat while it’s hot.”

Auntie Li set out eight bowls. “Don’t just stand there. The food’s gonna get cold!”

The table was full, the scene warm and festive. Something that can only be seen in the countryside during holidays. The food wasn’t fancy, but it was full of heart.

Main stream:

[Thank god I’m eating takeout too or I’d cry.]

[Dammit, I just grabbed a snack.]

[Uncle Li and his family are wonderful.]

[En’en, eat more! You’re too skinny!]

[Look at Jiang Ge, already on his second bowl!]

[Even Qin Ge went for seconds!]

[Xiao Chi looks so cute, totally focused on his food.]

Wen Chi had just finished a bite of vinegar potato slivers—crispy, tangy, and delicious—when a peeled shrimp appeared in front of his mouth.

He looked up.

Jiang Siheng’s long and pale fingers were holding it out to him, sauce still glistening. His eyes were fixed on Wen Chi.