ASFSODS 4

Jiang Siheng’s livestream chat:

[WTF WTF WTF]

[AAAAAA hubby hubby, come kiss me to death right now #kisskiss]

[Oh my god, why is Jiang Siheng on Heart’s Confession 2?!]

[Is this the moment I get my heart broken? #shattered]

[Ughhhh how is this man perfect down to every strand of hair #crying@#]

[HUSBAND HUSBAND HUSBAND!!! (screaming)]

And it wasn’t just Jiang Siheng’s stream—viewers across all five other livestreams erupted the moment he appeared. Behind the scenes, the staff watching the numbers saw clearly: as soon as Jiang Siheng showed up, the view counts in other rooms began plummeting in real time.

Who was Jiang Siheng?

He entered the entertainment industry at 13. At 16, he won the youngest Best Actor award in film history for his supporting role as Yu Jin in Chenghuan. He followed that with a series of blockbusters, both critically and commercially acclaimed. Now at just 26 years old, he was already a senior in the industry compared to most.

When Jiang Siheng apologized for being late, the two other entertainment professionals present—Zhou Yunbai and Tong Xian’en—quickly waved it off.

Zhou Yunbai instinctively said, “We just got here too.”

As soon as she said it, she realized how stupid it sounded. The program had arranged all their departure times and obviously they hadn’t just arrived.

Thankfully, Jiang Siheng didn’t comment.

Tong Xian’en placed a fruit platter on the coffee table. “Teacher Jiang, I just washed some fruit, come have some with us,” Then he added with a wink, “I passed an orchard on the way here. Maybe later we can go pick a fruit together.”

Tian Yang perked up. “Yes! I really love fruit.”

Tian Yang’s livestream:

[Our Sheep really does love fruit…]

[I remember one stream where he polished off three full fruit trays. I was in shock.]

[He literally said he’d “die” without fruit.]

[Sheep is the kind of son my mom would love—she’s always nagging me to eat more fruit.]

[Agreed.]

[Wait… was that last one a guy?]

“Sounds good. We can all go together sometime,” Zhou Yunbai said cheerfully. She turned toward the ever-silent Qin Xiyu. “What do you think, Mr. Qin?”

Qin Xiyu adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses and replied coolly, “Whatever’s fine.”

These kinds of things meant nothing to him.

Jiang Siheng naturally took a seat next to Wen Chi. Viewers in the six livestreams didn’t find this strange—there was no more room on the long couch, and the single armchair could just barely squeeze in one more.

Due to the tight space, Wen Chi noticed their knees were lightly touching, giving him the illusion that they were already quite close.

In reality, they only met last night at the hotel.

Wen Chi shifted over in his seat quietly while subtly putting a bit of space between them.

Jiang Siheng, who looked like he was attentively listening to the conversation, caught the movement and turned his head slightly, giving Wen Chi a half-smile.

Wen Chi didn’t notice—but Tong Xian’en did and glanced discreetly at Wen Chi’s face.

“It’s almost eleven. How about we go out and buy some ingredients and snacks?” Tong Xian’en suggested.

Tian Yang: “Sounds good!”

Tong Xian’en smiled, then looked specifically at Jiang Siheng. “Teacher Jiang, will you come too?”

Jiang Siheng replied with an easy smile, “If everyone’s going, of course I’ll join.”

Tong Xian’en let out a little cheer—whether it was from the idea of bonding time or excitement that Jiang Siheng was coming, who could say.

Zhou Yunbai, who worked with Tong Xian’en before, saw him grinning like a child and chuckled as well.

Tong Xian’en’s livestream:

[Calling it now—Xian’en’s CP is Sheep. He always responds first when Xian’en talks.]

[I think it’s Movie Emperor Jiang.]

[Nah, still betting on Sheep.]

[When will they reveal the actual CPs?]

[Tonight at 10—they’ll each send a “Heart Message” to their CP. We’ll find out then.]

Wen Chi stood up. “Are we heading out now?”

“Yup! If we go now, we’ll be back in time to prepare lunch.” Tong Xian’en threw an arm around Wen Chi’s shoulder like they were lifelong friends.

Qin Xiyu stood and said coldly, “Let’s go.”

Tong Xian’en seemed a bit intimidated by him. “O-oh, right. Okay.”

All their luggage had been piled in a corner of the living room. They planned to divide up the rooms after lunch.

The nearest supermarket was a 20-minute drive away. The production team had prepared two vehicles—just right for six guests.

Tian Yang said, “So, I only need to pass parts two, three, and four of the driving exam and I’ll have my license.”

Wen Chi, who had just been eyeing the car, turned to say, “You could’ve just said you don’t have one yet.”

Tian Yang: “Yeah, but this sounds fancier.”

Tong Xian’en admitted softly, “I don’t have one either.”

Qin Xiyu picked up one of the keys. “I’ll drive one.”

Since there was only one female guest, it went without saying she wouldn’t be asked to drive. With Tian Yang and Tong Xian’en both lacking licenses, that left only Wen Chi and Jiang Siheng.

Tong Xian’en asked, “Jiang Ge, do you drive?”

Less than an hour in, the “Teacher Jiang” had become “Jiang Ge.”

Jiang Siheng took the car keys from a staff member. “I’ll drive.”

Wen Chi had been about to offer, in case Jiang didn’t drive either, but shut his mouth the moment Jiang Siheng spoke.

Zhou Yunbai and Tian Yang went with Qin Xiyu while Wen Chi and Tong Xian’en rode with Jiang Siheng.

Tong Xian’en opened the passenger door and was ready to climb in but a hand blocked him.

He looked up, confused. Jiang Siheng turned toward Wen Chi, who was spacing out nearby, and said, “Xiao Chi, you sit up front.”

“Huh?” Wen Chi blinked.

The smile on Tong Xian’en’s face faltered. He stood frozen by the door. “Jiang Ge… what does that mean?”

Tong Xian’en’s livestream:

[What’s Jiang Ge’s deal?]

[Is he shading Xian’en?]

[Like, hello? The front seat doesn’t have Wen Chi’s name on it. Why can’t Xian’en sit there? #sweat]

[Ugh.]

[Don’t bully our Xian’en—he’s so sweet.]

[Seriously, why is Wen Chi even on this show? He’s so boring.]

[Wen Chi, get out of showbiz already.]

Wen Chi confusedly looked between the two. Clearly, he had no idea either.

Jiang Siheng replied with his hands on his pockets, “Wen Chi drives. He can help navigate from the front.”

“Ah?” Wen Chi was stunned for a second, then nodded seriously. “Yeah. I’ve been driving for six months.”

[lmao I’m crying]

[So like… six months on the road?]

[What even—“six months experience” has me dying]

[Bet he’s barely driven five times. Thank god Jiang Ge’s the one driving.]

[His face is too cute omg]

Jiang Siheng’s logic was solid—if Tong Xian’en insisted now, it will look bad.

Tong Xian’en was unwilling, however, he had no choice but to slide into the backseat, watching the two sit on the front.

As Wen Chi buckled in, he turned and said, “Teacher Jiang.”

Jiang glanced at him while securing his own seatbelt. “Yeah?”

“My parallel parking and backing into spaces only works on the driving range. Outside of that, I’m hopeless.”

Jiang Siheng’s livestream:

[So real. This is me too.]

[Same! The second I left the driving school, I forgot how to reverse park.]

[I literally got my license last month and already forgot how to check mirrors.]

[Thankfully, Jiang Ge is the one behind the wheel.]

Jiang Siheng looked at Wen Chi’s serious little face and chuckled. “No worries. I’ve got it.”

Wen Chi let out a soft sigh. “That’s a relief.”

Qin Xiyu’s car pulled out first. Jiang Siheng’s followed at a steady distance, driving smoothly.

The trip was around 20 minutes—they couldn’t just sit in silence the whole way.

Wen Chi gazed out the window, slowly growing drowsy from the calm drive.

Just as he was about to doze off, Tong Xian’en piped up: “Teacher Jiang, is there any kind of dish you really like?”

“Not really. I eat anything,” Jiang replied, voice even and cool.

Tong picked up on the disinterest and quickly added, “I mean, Xiaobai asked in the group chat.”

“Mm.”

Tong pressed his lips together. From the backseat, hidden from view, he stared unabashedly at Jiang’s sharp side profile.

[So like… is Tong Xian’en into Jiang Ge or what?]

[He’s asked Jiang more questions than anyone else today.]

[Bro did y’all see his face just now?]

[Yeah… he looked like he was mentally undressing Jiang.]

[…??]

[Okay that’s—wow.]

Wen Chi pulled out the program-issued phone from his vest pocket and opened WeChat. Sure enough, Zhou Yunbai had sent messages to their group chat.

【@Tong Xian’en @Wen Chi What do you guys want to eat? Help me ask Teacher Jiang too—I’m making a list.】

【We’ll just go buy everything once we get to the store.】

【Tong Xian’en: I’ll ask】

The last message was sent three minutes ago. Tong Xian’en said he will ask and he just did, but haven’t replied to Zhou Yunbai yet.

A new message popped up:

【Zhou Yunbai: Xian’en, you there?】

Wen Chi glanced in the rearview mirror. Tong Xian’en wasn’t on his phone. Thinking for a moment, Wen Chi turned and said, “Teacher Xiaobai messaged you in the group chat.”

Tong Xian’en froze then nodded with a complicated look. “Mm.”

Jiang glanced at Wen Chi.

【Tong Xian’en: I’m here. Teacher Jiang says he doesn’t have a favorite dish.】

【Zhou Yunbai: Oh okay. What about you, Wen Chi?】

【Wen Chi: I don’t eat cilantro.】

【Tian Yang: Same! I hate cilantro too!】

【Tian Yang: Kindred spirits [handshake emoji]】

【Wen Chi: [spinning bear gif]】

【Zhou Yunbai: [silly smile] Got it~】

Once they arrived, the six good-looking guests climbed out of the cars. Staff security flanked them on both sides, staying alert.

Zhou Yunbai stood next to Qin Xiyu. At 165 cm, she looked especially petite beside his towering 190 cm frame.

They wouldn’t be staying at Heart House continuously. Each round of filming lasted three days, followed by about two weeks for the guests to catch up on their regular work. So there was no need to stock up on groceries—they could just buy what they needed each day.

Tian Yang went to grab a large shopping cart. Zhou Yunbai had checked the fridge earlier and it held only a few eggs and some lemon sparkling water, courtesy of a sponsor.

She grabbed a few loaves of bread, remembering the toaster in the kitchen. Sandwiches would be good for breakfast.

Zhou Yunbai asked the five guys, “Do anyo of you know how to cook?”

Tian Yang: “I can make noodles.”

Tong Xian’en: “Simple dishes, like tomato and egg stir-fry.”

Qin Xiyu said with full confidence, “No.”

No one was surprised—he was a CEO after all. He probably never had to cook a day in his life.

Jiang Siheng: “I can cook Western food.”

Everyone turned to Wen Chi.

[He doesn’t look like the type who can cook…]

[True, he gives off little fairy boy vibes.]

[Nuh-uh, old fans will tell you—Chi’s actually kind of rough around the edges.]

[He probably just knows how to make basic home food.]

[Ughh baby boy mwah!!!]

[There aren’t many guys who cook these days.]

With all five people looking at him, Wen Chi suddenly got nervous. His right hand hanging at his side tugged unconsciously at his pants. “Yeah, I can cook.”

Not “a little,” not “just certain dishes”—he’d said, simply, “I can.”

Cute boy who can cook?

Zhou Yunbai’s eyes lit up. “What kinds of things can you make?”

“Mostly home-style food. More complex stuff… might take longer,” Wen Chi replied.

Tian Yang grinned. “Nice one, Xiao Chi. That’s awesome.”

Wen Chi licked his lips shyly. “It’s nothing, really.”

With a sense of what everyone could cook, they moved on to groceries. Wen Chi got distracted by some yam-flavored chips and lagged behind. When he caught up, he found himself walking side by side with Jiang Siheng at the back.

Jiang Siheng tilted his head slightly to look at him. His gaze was so direct that Wen Chi couldn’t even pretend not to notice.

Now, Jiang Siheng wasn’t just a big name and industry senior—he was also Wen Chi’s CP.

Wen Chi shot him a quick glance. “Teacher Jiang, why are you looking at me?”

To be honest, he still couldn’t bring himself to look at Jiang Siheng straight in the eye, not out of shyness, but because he was still recovering from the fact that he glared at this man last night.

Jiang Siheng looked down at the soft mop of hair on Wen Chi’s head, then couldn’t resist lifting a hand to ruffle it. “No reason. Just suddenly felt like I lucked out.”

Wen Chi blinked, looking up—and locked eyes with Jiang Siheng’s smiling ones.

Wha—what?