ASFSODS 33

Jiang Siheng showing up at the studio to visit Wen Chi had already leaked online, and several related trending topics were connected on Weibo.

The first to post the photos was a gossip blogger on Weibo. The caption didn’t say that Wen Chi and Jiang Siheng’s on-screen CP had become real, but just mentioning that Jiang Siheng personally went to visit Wen Chi added a subtle layer of ambiguity to their relationship.

[Jiang Siheng visits Wen Chi on set]

[HengWen CP reunites off-screen]

[Jiang Siheng and Wen Chi hospital]

Curious netizens understood the first two, but the last one. Putting both their names next to “hospital” left them confused.

[Commenter 1: Uh, what’s this ‘hospital’ about?]

[Commenter 2: What does ‘hospital’ mean in this context?]

[Commenter 3: Don’t tell me Wen Chi’s… pregnant?]

[Commenter 4: Wake up, this isn’t some mpreg story.]

[Commenter 5: Y’all are overthinking. I think it’s just that Wen Chi had some eye issues and Jiang Ge took him to the hospital.]

[Commenter 6: Whatever the reason is, I’m shipping them again anyway.]

Jiang Siheng’s phone screen lit up beside him. He glanced at it, tapped a few times, and set it back down.

Jin Ge put down his chopsticks and asked seriously, “Teacher Jiang, should we have someone take the trending topics down? If they stay up too long, it might not be good for either you or Wen Chi.”

Jiang Siheng looked a bit puzzled too, and also set down his chopsticks. He looked toward Wen Chi’s agent. “Why wouldn’t it be good? If we both take them down now, what do you think netizens will say when the first livestream of the show airs the day after tomorrow?”

Taking down the hot searches would either look like they were guilty and trying to hide something, or like they were trying to clarify that there was no romantic relationship between them. That was common in the entertainment industry but only when both parties weren’t involved in a dating reality show. Once the livestream aired, Jiang Siheng might be fine, but netizens, fans, and haters alike would likely direct all the heat at Wen Chi.

Wen Chi, a small-time actor from an ordinary family with no connections and still struggling after more than two years in the industry, was exactly the type of person who could be made into a scapegoat.

Jin Ge had been a manager for many years. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand all this, but he just didn’t want Wen Chi to get dragged into it. “But just leaving the trending searches there without doing anything doesn’t feel right either.”

“I’ve already asked them to reduce the exposure,” said Jiang Siheng.

Wen Chi blinked. Even though he was one of the people involved, at the moment he was no different from Sang Sang. He didn’t dare say a word.

Maybe because he realized Jiang Siheng’s approach was actually the safest, or maybe for other reasons, Jin Ge didn’t speak again.

While Jin Ge and Jiang Siheng talked, Sang Sang had already buried her head in her food, scooping rice. Right now, she wished she could go back in time and slap her earlier self for talking too much.

Wen Chi tentatively said, “How about we just eat first?”

Jiang Siheng lightly patted the back of his head, just about to say something when a phone call came in.

Jiang Siheng stepped outside to answer the call. Jin Ge also stood up, saying the food was way too salty and he was going down to the hotel lobby to get something to drink.

Sang Sang looked down at her braised chicken and was confused. They had ordered from the same place and got the exact same dish, but she didn’t find it salty at all.

Jin Ge stepped out and saw Jiang Siheng standing in the hallway on the phone. Jiang Siheng wasn’t looking at him, his eyelashes lowered with an unreadable expression.

Jin Ge returned with a few cans of beer and saw Jiang Siheng still in the hallway. As he got closer, Jiang Siheng hung up the call.

Jin Ge hesitated, then walked over and said, “Teacher Jiang, I wasn’t disagreeing with what you did earlier. I just… Wen Chi is a really good kid. I don’t want him to become someone others can just use as a shield and throw away when they’re done.”

Jiang Siheng listened and slowly looked up. Jin Ge was caught off guard for a second by the chill in his eyes.

Jiang Siheng turned toward the hotel room, as if he could see through the door and look inside. “I don’t want that either.”

Jin Ge stayed silent.

Neither of them went back right away. Wen Chi kept glancing at the door until finally Jiang Siheng returned. The man walked straight up to him and bent down. “I’ve got something to take care of, so I’m heading out first. Don’t forget to take your medicine after dinner.”

“Huh? But you haven’t even finished your food,” Wen Chi looked at the dishes, still half full. “Then let me pack up a bit for you to take.”

Jiang Siheng paused, then gave a small laugh. “Sure.”

Wen Chi scooped a small portion of dishes over the rice, closed the lid on the meal box, put it back in the plastic bag, and handed it to him.

“Then I’ll go. Don’t forget your meds. And if you can’t put in the eyedrops yourself, ask your agent to help.”

“Got it.”

As Jiang Siheng passed by Jin Ge returning from the hallway, the room was left with just the three of them.

Jin Ge noticed Wen Chi still staring at the door and said gruffly, “He’s already gone, what are you still looking at?”

Wen Chi took a sip of water. “You guys were gone for so long I thought you’d gone out to fight.”

Sang Sang said, “I don’t know about Jin Ge, but Teacher Jiang definitely wouldn’t start a fight.”

Jin Ge nearly exploded from frustration. He looked at Wen Chi’s eyes that were still red from irritation due to the colored contacts. He took a deep breath, and spoke earnestly. “Xiao Chi, I’m not against you making friends or even dating, but right now, I’d really prefer it if you focused more on your career.”

Wen Chi gave a small “mm” and nodded. “Okay.”

“Oh right, Chi Ge, the first episode of Heart’s Confession 2 airs at 8 p.m. tonight,” Sang Sang said. “Wanna watch it like a dinner show?”

Wen Chi used to love watching variety shows while eating, but now that he was a guest on this one… he wasn’t in the mood.

“Nah, I’ll watch a game stream instead.” Wen Chi quietly opened a livestream from one of his favorite gaming streamers.

Sang Sang said “oh” softly.

Wen Chi forgot one thing. Sang Sang was sitting right next to him. Her phone was on a stand, and just a glance sideways let him clearly see her screen.

The intro of Heart’s Confession 2 featured solo shots of the six guests, CP group shots, and a group shot of all six. The CP group clips even had pink heart effects added.

Sang Sang turned her head and caught Wen Chi staring at her screen without blinking. She laughed silently to herself.

The full episodes of Heart’s Confession 2 wouldn’t directly include the entire day’s livestream, so for netizens who hadn’t watched the first day live, when they saw Zhou Yunbai asking in the group chat what Wen Chi, Jiang Siheng, and Tong Xian’en were eating in the same car, and then saw Zhou Yunbai ask Tong Xian’en—who had replied to her—to help ask Wen Chi and Jiang Siheng, but Tong Xian’en only asked Jiang Siheng and didn’t follow up with Zhou Yunbai, it immediately gave off some serious tea-spilling vibes.

[This is only the first episode, and there’s already drama — how exciting]

[I don’t get what Tong Xian’en is doing]

[Serious question: did Wen Chi offend Tong Xian’en or something?]

[LMAO that line “It was Bai Jie who asked us in the group chat” sounds so dumb]

[Gotta say, Wen Chi really is adorable — such a sweet face]

[Looking forward to the later episodes]

[This has to be scripted]

[There’s no script, stop spreading fake info]

[No but seriously, does no one think Wen Chi is kinda like a green tea b*tch?]

When the first episode dropped, every guest ended up on a trending search. Surprisingly, one of the trending tags linked Wen Chi and Tong Xian’en’s names together.

Meanwhile, in a hotel in another city.

Tong Xian’en had just returned from a shoot when he got a call from his agent. Before he could say a single word, the agent immediately exploded, shouting, “Are you stupid? Do you know how much heat your scenes targeting Wen Chi are getting online? I told you before the show even started. If you get the chance to ride off Jiang Siheng’s fame, then go all in! But I never thought you’d use such a dumbass method!”

Tong Xian’en’s face remained blank, eyes lowered, hiding his expression.

The room was silent except for the agent’s furious voice. The assistant nearby had heard the entire conversation but didn’t dare say a word.

“You’ve been in this industry for years! Sure, that ‘You Talk, I Listen’ show helped you gain some fans, but that level of popularity is nothing here! You really thought a stunt like that on the show would get you more traffic? Idiot!”

After more scolding, the agent calmed down slightly and said, “I’ve already asked the company to reduce the trending search exposure. When the next livestream airs in a few days, you’d better show up with a functioning brain.”

The call ended without Tong Xian’en getting a single word in. The silence in the room afterward was stifling.

The assistant, still nervous, finally spoke up after a while, “Tong Ge, you just finished working, are you hungry? I can go buy you something. What do you want to eat?”

Tong Xian’en didn’t reply.

The assistant didn’t dare ask again. He hadn’t worked with Tong Xian’en for long, but he’d heard from others that his temper wasn’t exactly great either.

After the assistant left, Tong Xian’en finally moved. He hadn’t even known about the trending searches since he was busy working when the episode aired.

He logged into Weibo, skipped the DMs, and went straight to the trending list.

Maybe the company had already started suppressing the trend, but the tag [Wen Chi] was still high on the list, and that annoyed him.

He tapped into a few related posts. The comments under them were brutal.

[I always knew Tong Xian’en wasn’t a good person.]

[Wen Chi is so pitiful, he clearly didn’t even provoke him.]

[LMAO, I actually thought Tong Xian’en was some A-lister.]

[I used to like him on ‘You Talk, I Listen,’ good thing I didn’t stan too hard.]

Tong Xian’en scrolled through the comment sections without changing expression, but the hand holding his phone started to tremble.

His phone dinged with a new WeChat notification from his agent.

【Next episode will introduce two new guests. Your CP with that gaming streamer is going nowhere. The company already arranged something else for you.】

Then another one followed.

【Xian’en, maybe I was too harsh earlier, but you have to understand. The company is putting a lot behind you. Don’t let them down.】

The messages vanished from the notification bar. Tong Xian’en exited Weibo and opened his photo gallery. There was an album with several photos of him and Tian Yang. While they weren’t intimate, it was obvious they had a good relationship.

He stared at them for a few seconds.

Then tapped “Select All.”

And deleted them.

—

The live filming of Heart’s Confession 2’s first episode aired as scheduled. The episode had received a pretty good response, so each guest’s livestream room saw an influx of new viewers.

Main Livestream Chat:

[They’re live, they’re live!!]

[Ahhh Chi-chi I missed you so much]

[Days without a livestream felt so slow]

[Here to watch Tong Xian’en and Wen Chi]

[Hehehe, HengWen CP is basically confirmed, right?]

[The Weibo teaser said there’d be new guests this episode]

[Damn, is this finally the love triangle episode?]

[Hope the new guests match up with each other — leave the existing CPs alone]

Wen Chi kept working hard alongside Sang Sang. This episode started off differently from the first so he didn’t need to fly to Haining City. Instead, he just got into the show crew’s van from his current city, and the livestream started simultaneously.

Once Wen Chi sat down, a staff member handed him a card.

[If the production team gave you and your “partner” a vacation…]

Wen Chi took a pen and looked up at the staff. They nodded.

He muttered, “There’s no option for just staying at home? Disappointed.”

Wen Chi Livestream Room:

[Hahahahahahahaha]

[Our introverted gamer side is showing again]

[LMAO the crew should just gift him a staycation date]

[Bathroom, bedroom, study, and living room are all scenic spots, right?]

[Why do those locations bring up… questionable images in my head]

[Same here]

Wen Chi marked an option. The audience didn’t see which one, and when he returned the card, the answer side was still facing down.

The van finally stopped at the airport. Staff handed him his ticket and passport.
Wen Chi’s eyes sharpened when he saw the destination.

Wen Chi Livestream Room:
[Where’s he going?? Where’s he going??]

[My guess: he picked “Anywhere is fine”]

[Honestly that sounds like something he’d do]

[Ahhh why so mysterious? Tell us already!]

The livestream suddenly went black. Then large text appeared:
[To maintain suspense, the stream will resume after landing.]

[We get it, but next time could you not use blood-red font on a pitch-black screen? We thought this was a horror film.]

Wen Chi sighed. Now he understood why the show crew had told him to pack warm clothes the day before.

It took eleven hours to fly from Linquan City to the destination. He napped, chatted with Sang Sang and Xiao Zou, stared out the window in boredom. It felt endless.

Once they landed and stepped off the plane, the cold air outside immediately froze Wen Chi in place. Looking around, he saw the staff already bundled in heavy coats.

Wen Chi: “…”

To be honest, he had completely forgotten to take out a coat before checking his luggage.

He rushed to retrieve his suitcase and threw the thickest jacket he had over his long sleeves. With the fluffy shearling coat on, he looked like a cuddly ball—absolutely adorable.

Since each guest was flying out from a different city, their flights were all scheduled separately. There was no need to wait at the airport for everyone to arrive at the same time.

Wen Chi turned to ask a staff member, “Will there be a translator arranged for us?”

The staff smiled and shook their head.

Wen Chi, whose college English grades had always just barely passed: “…”

When he went to retrieve his checked luggage, the livestream resumed. As soon as the screen lit up, the viewers were greeted with a sea of foreign faces.

Wen Chi Livestream Room:

[Holy crap, they really went abroad]

[It’s been over ten hours without a livestream]

[Where is this?]

[Probably Country Y, looks like morning over there]

[No joke, a pale, black-haired, brown-eyed boy like him really stands out in a foreign crowd]

[Yo, that foreign guy in long johns is eyeing our Xiao Chi weirdly]

[Am I the only one worried about our English-challenged Wen Chi being abroad?]

Wen Chi was already numb. Ever since the staff told him there would be no translator, he basically turned invisible behind Xiao Zou, clearly expected to figure things out on his own.

“There’s no translator, but surely there’s a driver, right?” Wen Chi held out a sliver of hope. As long as someone could drive him to the place arranged by the show, he was more than happy to lock himself in the house for a week.

“There’s no driver either,” said the staff, just as cold and emotionless as Country Y’s climate.

Wen Chi: “…”

At least they gave him some local currency, though.

He found a café in the airport with Wi-Fi. Afraid of being kicked out, he ordered a coffee.

Now with internet access, Wen Chi quickly translated a few likely-needed phrases with an app and took screenshots. Then he searched how to enable international data.

Wen Chi had never been abroad before. He’d never even thought about what was needed. Now he felt like a lost kid, stranded with no home in sight, completely helpless.

Wen Chi Livestream Room:

[So there really are celebs who’ve never been abroad?]

[Understandable. Wen Chi isn’t even that famous in the industry.]

[Still, you’d think he would’ve gone overseas at least once during school breaks]

[LMAO not everyone vacations abroad]

[He’s giving total country boy energy right now]

[Looks kinda awkward ngl]

[Ahhh Teacher Jiang come save your wifey already]

[Don’t bother. Jiang Siheng’s stream is still black. He’s probably still on the plane]

[Xiao Chi please look at chat. I travel a lot. I have tips. Start with…]

Wen Chi didn’t have time to look at chat. He was rushing to absorb as much info as he could about traveling abroad. After a few minutes, he stood up, holding his coffee. “Let’s go.”

Outside the airport, there were only three metered taxis. Wen Chi picked the one with the most friendly-looking driver. His English was clunky but at least understandable.

“Hello, I want to go to this place,” Wen Chi stammered.

The driver lifted his glasses, glanced at the address on the phone screen, and nodded. “Okay.”

Wen Chi breathed a sigh of relief, put his suitcase in the back, and got in.

Originally, Sang Sang wanted to sit in the front for easier filming by Xiao Zou, but both Wen Chi and Xiao Zou objected. They were abroad so having a girl sit alone in the front wasn’t exactly safe. Sang Sang and Wen Chi both sat in the back.

Before getting in, Wen Chi had been worried the driver might be overly chatty but the guy kept to himself the entire time, which helped him relax.

The place the show had arranged for them to stay was far from the airport. The road they took was lined with trees and passed through several rural areas.

They drove for over an hour. Even Xiao Zou eventually gave up on filming, setting the camera on his lap so the livestream viewers were left watching the car door handle the whole ride.

As they neared the lodging, Wen Chi spotted a wooden sign in the distance with familiar Chinese writing.

Finally—he was here. Wen Chi wasn’t the only one who let out a sigh of relief. Viewers did too.

[Thank God! No more door handle cam!!]

Wen Chi usually saw study-abroad posts online from students saying how much they missed home. He never understood the sentiment. The furthest he’d gone was up north to film once, and even that was in the same country. It hadn’t felt like anything special.

But now, seeing the staff waiting by that wooden sign, he was this close to crying tears of joy.

The staff smiled as Wen Chi approached. But when he got a closer look at the boy’s face, he blinked. “Teacher Wen, were you crying?”

Wen Chi looked confused. “Huh? No.”

The staff frowned. “Your eyes are really red.”

Not far off, Sang Sang overheard and completely ignored the unspoken “assistants shouldn’t be on-camera” rule. She ran over. When she saw Wen Chi’s eyes—which had started healing—now red and inflamed again, she gasped. “Chi Ge, your eyes are red again!”

She fumbled through her backpack for eyedrops and quickly helped administer them.

As the liquid hit, Wen Chi flinched. It stung, and he had to blink repeatedly to help it absorb.

The livestream chat lit up with reactions.

[Oh no, this looks serious]

[Didn’t he already go see a doctor? It’s not better yet?]

[Honestly, when I saw the whites of his eyes were all red just now, I legit got scared]

[No matter how cute a guy is, red inflamed eyes are terrifying]

[I noticed red veins in his eyes during the taxi ride but thought it was just fatigue]

Originally, there was a scheduled segment that was supposed to cue Wen Chi in but seeing how uncomfortable he looked, the production team messaged the staff to cancel that part and let him go inside and rest.

The lodging was a local guesthouse run by an elderly foreign couple. They were busy at the front desk and looked up when they heard the door.

They saw a pale, black-haired, handsome young man being helped inside by a girl. Something seemed off. As they got closer, they noticed the boy’s eyes were shut tight.

“What happened?” the elderly woman quickly walked out from behind the desk.

Sang Sang said, “His eyes are unfortunate, uh, uncomfortable.”

The old woman gasped. “My god!”

The old man came over too. “I think you can rest on the sofa.”

Sang Sang: “Yes, I think so too.”

Her fluent English shocked everyone nearby. Who would’ve thought there was a hidden language master by Wen Chi’s side?

Wen Chi: Thanks but no thanks. They’re speaking way too fast, I didn’t catch a single word.

The elderly lady brought over a cup of warm water and placed it gently on the glass coffee table, lowering her voice so she wouldn’t startle the boy resting with his eyes closed. “Are you okay?”

Sang Sang nudged him with her elbow. “Chi Ge, she’s talking to you.”

Wen Chi’s eyes flew open. “Ah?”

A surprise English listening and speaking test, just like that.

The old lady was startled by how red his eyes were. She gestured toward her own eyes, “Your eyes, do you need to go to the hospital?”

Sang Sang whispered, “She’s asking if you need to go to the hospital.”

Wen Chi whispered back, “I understood that sentence, thanks.”

He shook his head at the old lady. With his bunny-like, pitiful look, he smiled and said, “Thank you, but I have seen a doctor.”

“Okay,” the lady nodded.

Luckily, the production team had brought a doctor along. Fearing Wen Chi’s eyes would get worse, they had the doctor come over to check.

After an exam and reviewing the meds Sang Sang had, the doctor said, “His eyes are still in the recovery stage. Lack of rest and exposure to cold air caused a secondary infection. Teacher Wen, continue taking your medication and increase the frequency of eyedrops.”

“Okay.”

The livestream viewers heard the diagnosis and breathed a collective sigh of relief.

[Not a big issue, not a big issue]

[Thank God the crew brought a doctor]

[If his eyes don’t get better, how will he join the games and activities later on?]

[Bruh, his eyes are inflamed and you’re worried about games?!]

[Chill, that’s not what I meant!!]

Just as Jiang Siheng stepped off the plane, the first thing he asked Little Fatty was. “Has Wen Chi arrived yet?”

As his assistant, Little Fatty was already used to international travel. He pulled up Wen Chi’s livestream and saw the doctor mid-exam.

Jiang Siheng was right beside him, so of course he saw it too. When he heard the doctor mention how Wen Chi’s condition worsened from lack of rest and cold air, his eyebrows furrowed deeply.

Little Fatty didn’t know who to worry for more. Wen Chi for not knowing how to take care of himself, or the production team who’d chosen an international setting, resulting in his worsening condition.

Honestly? Why does it feel like the airport forgot to turn on the heat—it’s freezing out here.