All eyes were on An Leyan.

The little cannon fodder wanted to cry but had no tears.

What should he do? He couldn’t exactly say, I transmigrated into a novel, and that’s just how the author described you. Maybe you should check the original book?

An Leyan’s gaze landed on Fu Shicang’s face.

As expected of a future Best Actor, his expression control was flawless. He even maintained a gentle and polite smile, as if he had asked the question purely out of curiosity.

If An Leyan hadn’t spent two years as his assistant, even he might have overlooked the fleeting spark of suppressed anger deep in his eyes.

His acting was really top-notch. Best Actor indeed… If only it weren’t directed at me.

Wait—Best Actor!

An Leyan finally grasped at a lifeline.

He looked toward the director for help. “The question was about my strongest impression of Fu-ge, right? Well, I immediately thought of Qin City.”

A flicker of surprise flashed through Director Zhang’s eyes.

Qin City was a film Fu Shicang had just wrapped up shooting. In it, the genius actor played a ruthless and deranged villain.

The film had only just finished production and was sent directly to an international film festival for competition. It hadn’t been released domestically yet—there wasn’t even a trailer available. The plan was to win an award first before premiering in local theaters.

And the only reason Director Zhang knew this insider information was because the scriptwriter of Qin City happened to be his wife.

Before he could speak, Fu Shicang turned to him. “Director Zhang, wasn’t this film supposed to be kept under wraps? Did you leak it?”

“No, no, no,” An Leyan quickly defended the director. “I’m a big fan of Mr. Fu’s. I love his movies, so I… asked a friend to secretly record a clip at the film festival.”

Blushing, he looked at Fu Shicang. “You acted brilliantly!”

The other guests all had an Ohhh, so that’s why expression.

So he’s just a die-hard fan. No wonder he knows so much.

The explanation seemed to smooth things over. Zhang Mao frowned, about to ask more questions, but Mu Wei suddenly spoke up.

“The festival’s premiere was just yesterday. And you already got word of it today?”

His flirtatious eyes flicked between An Leyan and Fu Shicang before he suddenly leaned in close to An Leyan. “Why are you so interested in him?”

Startled, An Leyan quickly dodged to the side. “Of course! I love every role Mr. Fu plays.”

“Oh~” Nie Changxing chimed in, intrigued. “You love the roles?”

“Of course!” An Leyan bounced back. “Fu-ge is incredibly dedicated to every character. Before each performance, he spends a long time studying and preparing, fully grasping their psychology and temperament…”

Noticing the room had gone silent, An Leyan abruptly shut up. “Uh… I said too much. Let’s, uh, continue spinning the arrow.”

Meanwhile, the livestream chat was filled with laughter:

【This little coser is hilarious. Everyone’s caught in a battlefield of tension, and he’s the only one completely oblivious.】

【This was supposed to be a high-level psychological game, but Mu Wei’s probing totally went over his head. Even Bai Jingchen on the other side looks like he’s dying from nerves.】

【They’re talking about the person, and he’s talking about the character. Is this what it means to be a true career fan?】

【Looks like Nie Changxing is no pushover either. Mu Wei was still testing, but he just straight-up asked.】

【Silverheart is still the most innocent. I feel like he didn’t even hear what was happening.】

After that, the truth-or-dare questions never landed on An Leyan again. Still, he seemed to have developed PTSD, tensing up every time the arrow stopped spinning.

Every now and then, he stole a glance at Fu Shicang, only to find that the handsome man across from him didn’t seem satisfied with his answer. Sharp eyes gleamed behind his lenses, precisely meeting An Leyan’s gaze every time.

Wuwuwu, I didn’t do it on purpose, Cang-ge, please don’t hold it against me…

“All right, that’s the end of our truth-or-dare game. This livestream is wrapping up too.”

Director Zhang cheerfully directed the cameramen to zoom in. “Come on, say goodbye to everyone. See you all this weekend.”

The guests all put on bright smiles and waved at the camera.

Meanwhile, the livestream chat exploded with complaints:

【So short! I haven’t had enough yet! The guests’ beauty is too overwhelming; I need long-term exposure therapy.】

【I thought nothing could top the first two episodes, but today’s truth-or-dare totally blew my mind. Can’t wait for more!】

【I’m new here. Isn’t this show a livestream?】

【It’s a mix. Major events, like today’s kickoff, are streamed live. But most of the time, they film throughout the week, then edit the footage into three to four episodes, airing two episodes each weekend. Each one lasts about an hour and a half.】

【That’s a pretty reasonable setup. Hope the post-production turns out well.】

【Hahaha, don’t worry. Their editing skills are god-tier.】

【LOL, Director Zhang’s team really knows how to stir things up.】

The livestream ended. The guests all sighed in relief, stretching and moving around.

“Not so fast! Let’s send out the Heartfluttering Messages first,” Director Zhang called out.

“Now?” Mu Wei turned back. “I thought we’d do that before bed?”

“The rules have changed for this episode. This is the first impression text—send it freely. It doesn’t have to be for someone you have feelings for; a friendship text is fine too.” Director Zhang waved at the participants. “We’ll assign rooms based on the texts later.”

The mention of room assignments made everyone tense up again.

This was a dating show, and sharing meals and living spaces was the easiest way to spark feelings. But since no one was certain about their own emotions yet, what if they got assigned a room and later developed feelings for someone else? Watching the person they liked share a room with someone else—wouldn’t that be torture?

The participants glanced at Director Zhang, who was grinning cheerfully, and silently complained in their hearts: Send it freely? How is that possible? Who even came up with these rules? This is brutal!

The six participants quickly dispersed.

Fu Shicang sat in a single-seater sofa in the living room. Bai Jingchen followed him but didn’t dare sit next to him, instead curling up in the corner of the long couch.

Yinxin went upstairs. Mu Wei stepped out of the villa and sat on a bench in the garden.

Nie Changxing opened the door to the backyard, where there was a small platform for drinking tea, facing the living room’s floor-to-ceiling windows.

He leaned back onto the chaise lounge by the table.

As for An Leyan, he instinctively walked into the kitchen, fully embracing his role as cannon fodder.

He had already taken a liking to this spot when he came to get water earlier. The evening sun streamed through the large glass window behind the counter, bathing the entire room in a warm glow.

He pulled out his phone and opened the messaging app.

The dating show Delicious Connection had introduced major innovations compared to traditional romance shows.

In addition to sending heart-stirring texts, sharing meals and accommodations, and pairing up for dates, it also included a work component.

The show provided a high-end food truck, with two to three designated workdays per episode. The two participants working together would spend an entire day together, which was even longer than a typical date.

And the results of the heart-stirring texts played a crucial role in determining both the room assignments and work pairings, making them the most important factor of all.

But An Leyan wasn’t worried. As someone who had read the original novel, he already knew the results of every text exchange.

For today’s first impression text, the participant who received the most messages would get to assign the rooms.

The villa had three bedrooms: a single room, a double room, and a triple room.

According to the original novel, Fu Shicang would naturally win, securing the single room for himself. Meanwhile, An Leyan, who received zero texts, would be placed last, ending up in the most isolated corner of the triple room.

That didn’t bother him at all. An Leyan smiled cheerfully. The more invisible I am, the better. If I could turn transparent, that’d be even better. I’m just the unnoticed little animal in the melon field—I don’t need any presence.

Just as he tapped Fu Shicang’s name, Bai Jingchen walked in.

An Leyan quickly put away his phone.

“Are you serious?” Bai Jingchen skipped the pleasantries and got straight to the point.

An Leyan froze for a moment before realizing he was referring to what had just happened—when he had said he didn’t like him.

He lowered his eyes. “Bai Ge, I’ve liked you since I was a child. Of course, I didn’t want to give up. But…”

“I know you like the young master of the Fu family. Whenever you two are together, you’re always looking at him, and your eyes are only for him. If you ever had me in your heart, we would have been together long ago.”

His tone was sincere, yet he made no effort to conceal the sadness in it. Bai Jingchen glanced at his downcast eyes, as if hesitating to say something.

An Leyan quickly glanced at Bai Jingchen. “A few days ago, you asked me to quit. I understand why, but I’m not the same person you think I am anymore.”

He gave a reassuring smile. “Getting hurt this time made me realize—there’s no future for us. But as long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters. Don’t worry about me. There are so many great men in this dating show, and everyone likes you. Go ahead and love bravely.”

Bai Jingchen was stunned.

Just yesterday, he had learned that his butler had secretly ordered someone to harm An Leyan after hearing him complain about him at home. Bai Jingchen had thought that An Leyan’s firm rejection that day was meant as revenge in the show.

But An Leyan didn’t blame him at all! Instead, he said something so heartbreaking with a sorrowful expression.

Did… did he really love me that much?

“You… don’t overthink it, I…”

What was he supposed to say? Bai Jingchen suddenly snapped back to reality. Was he supposed to tell him that he didn’t actually hate him? That he had only asked him to quit out of impulsiveness?

He looked at An Leyan, who had his head down, hesitated for a long moment, and then fled in a panic.

An Leyan watched his flustered retreating figure and let out a quiet sigh.

The young master is kind of cute before he turns dark. He’s a good person too—not a good match for Cang Ge, of course, but since you never actually wanted to hurt me, I’ll help you find a match with the other contestants later. Maybe Mu Wei, or…

Suddenly, a question popped into his mind.

Among this group, who’s the 0^[1]Bottom or Shou and who’s the 1^[2]Top or Gong?

Cang Ge is obviously a 1. Mu Wei is definitely a 1 too. Then that means Bai Jingchen is a 0. And since the original character liked Bai Jingchen, that means…

Obviously, I’m a 1 too!

As for Nie Changxing and Yinxin, they were most likely 0s—that way, things would be balanced!

So smart! An Leyan praised himself inwardly, then carefully composed a message and hit send.

With the task complete, staying in the kitchen felt a bit dull. Might as well take a walk around.

He stretched lazily and strolled out of the kitchen.

Fu Shicang was still sitting on the sofa. From An Leyan’s angle, he could only see his back.

This is the first time I’ve seen Cang Ge with long hair! Not many people could pull off this hairstyle, but on him, it was absolutely perfect.

The black hair curled slightly at the ends, casually resting against the side of his face, highlighting his cool, pale complexion and sharp, refined features.

The silver-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose softened the sharpness and arrogance in his eyes, leaving only just the right amount of gentleness and elegance.

Still, my Cang Ge is the best-looking!

An Leyan admired him silently for a while before walking past the sofa. As he did, he keenly noticed Fu Shicang’s phone vibrating several times.

Yes, exactly! My Cang Ge should be surrounded by admirers like this—hahaha, ha…

Suddenly, his own phone buzzed in his pocket, startling him. Wait, I actually got a message? Could it be from Mom?

He quickly pulled out his phone.

All the texts were from the show’s system, sent from the same number. He opened one:

“Thanks for the water.”

Ohhh, just a friendship text! An Leyan patted his chest in relief.

But before his expression could fully relax, his phone buzzed twice more.

“Because of you, I got to hear a unique and heartfelt truth today.”

“Your eyes are too beautiful.”

…Wait.

How… did he get three messages?

Aren’t there only six people in total?!

An Leyan instinctively turned back toward the sofa—only to meet Fu Shicang’s gaze directly.

Sunlight poured into the living room through the floor-to-ceiling windows, catching a quick gleam off the man’s glasses.

An Leyan: ……

An Leyan: ……

Did I just… steal Cang Ge’s right to assign the rooms?!!