An Leyan was shocked. Although… well, although… what Anderson said made a lot of sense!

In his past life, he was Fu Shicang’s assistant, so of course he knew all of his living habits inside out. But in this book, from Fu Shicang’s perspective, he was just a stranger he’d met for the first time.

So in Cang-ge’s mind… he actually came off like a sasaeng fan?

An Leyan suddenly understood. He sat up straight in a rush.

Right now, he was treating Anderson like a lifesaver: “Then what should I do?”

Anderson smiled. “What you should do is up to you.”

He rested his hands lightly on An Leyan’s shoulders and gave them a gentle shake. “I believe you’ll handle it just fine.”

Over by the surveillance monitors, Xiao Li stared wide-eyed at the screen.

This Anderson… it’s only his first day, and he’s already getting handsy!

But the way he brushed Leyan’s hair was so flirty, and the way he looked at him while shaking his shoulders—so doting!

And just look at An Leyan. Ever since entering the villa, he’d never looked this vulnerable or this dependent on someone!

Is… is this dating show about to get turned upside down?

—

The next morning, An Leyan got up at his usual time—before six—and went to the nearby supermarket to restock groceries. He bought several bags of breakfast ingredients, left them warming in the kitchen, then sat down at the little tea table outside, took out pen and paper, and started writing something very seriously.

At 7 a.m., Fu Shicang got up and went through his morning routine. When he came out of the bathroom, he noticed a pale blue note tucked under his glasses.

Frowning, he picked it up and read it.

---

Cang-ge:

I’m really sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you these past few days. I’ve always been your most loyal fan, and I joined a lot of fan groups. That’s how I learned a lot about you through various channels. I was so excited to be on a show with my idol and wanted to show off, so I crossed a line.

These past couple of days, I’ve been seriously reflecting. My behavior… how is it any different from a sasaeng fan?

So, I promise you—I won’t do anything inappropriate again.

But my admiration for you is real, and I really don’t want you to start hating me because of this. I know I can’t hope to be your friend, but during our time on this dating show, could I at least be a normal coworker, working with you to complete the filming?

—An Leyan

---

Fu Shicang read the letter three times, carefully. Then he rubbed his temples hard, the constant “you”s in the formal tone stabbing at his brain.

A normal coworker…?

A wave of nameless anger surged in him. Suddenly, Fu Shicang crumpled the letter into a ball and tossed it into the trash can beside him.

Downstairs, a sudden commotion broke out—probably the production team up to something again. Fu Shicang frowned and walked down the stairs.

In the living room, the large round table was set up again. But instead of a lie detector, it was covered in a delicate pink tablecloth, with a big bouquet of pink roses in the middle and three pastel gift boxes scattered around.

“These are the gifts we gave the crew yesterday?” Mu Wei rubbed his hands together, bending over to examine the boxes on the table.

After a moment, he picked up each of the three boxes and weighed them. Clicking his tongue, he said, “Damn, they really sealed them up well. Same weight, nothing rattles inside—I don’t even know which one’s mine.”

Hearing this, the other guests gave up on trying to guess. Yin Xin stepped forward to choose a box first, followed by Bai Jingchen, and Fu Shicang took the last one.

Anderson had just come out of his room and stared blankly at the table full of flowers, but was immediately drawn by a sweet aroma.

Yin Xin, standing next to him, had just opened his gift box—it was a packet of buttery smiley-face cookies, adorably shaped.

Anderson leaned over. “Wow, smells amazing! Can I have a taste?”

Yin Xin was still trying to figure out who the gift was from, and handed him a cookie absentmindedly.

“All right, looks like everyone’s chosen a gift,” Zhang Mao’s voice rang out behind them—no one had noticed when he appeared. “Let’s announce the date pairings.”

He glanced at the guests. “Bai Jingchen got the cufflinks—his date is Mu Wei. Xiao Fu got the rose—his date is Nie Changxing…”

At this point, Yin Xin’s eyes lit up and he blurted out, “The cookies are from Leyan?”

“Correct!” Zhang Mao nodded. “But since Anderson joined yesterday, we can’t just leave him out. Also…”

He looked at the half-eaten cookie in Anderson’s hand—and deliberately paused.

All the guests turned to stare, tense anticipation in their eyes.

“Anderson just now directly chose the cookies, so we can arrange a dinner date.”

“Really?” Anderson’s face lit up with joy, and he immediately sprang over to An Leyan. “Dinner’s on me tonight. Let me think—I’ll definitely take you somewhere fun.”

An Leyan couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, I trust your creativity!”

Since the person involved had already said so, the other guests couldn’t object. They could only throw pitiful, resentful looks at Director Zhang.

Zhang Mao was prepared for this and immediately shot them a cold laugh as he made his escape.

The guests all went back to change. When Fu Shicang returned to the shared room, An Leyan had just taken a few shirts and pants out of the wardrobe and laid them on the bed.

“Cang-ge!” he greeted proactively. “Did you see the note I left you? I’m really sorry about before—I totally overstepped.”

Fu Shicang looked at him. The reflection of sunlight on his glasses obscured his expression.

“But now I understand, and I hope from now on we can—”

“Don’t use formal address like ‘您’ with me. We’re the same generation,” Fu Shicang interrupted.

An Leyan paused for a moment, then suddenly smiled. “That’s great—I knew you didn’t hold it against me.”

He smiled with eyes crinkling, and stepped closer, looking visibly excited.

It was the closest the two had been in the past two days.

Fu Shicang’s heart gave a sudden jolt—he actually felt a bit nervous.

An Leyan said seriously, one word at a time, “I knew my idol would be magnanimous and wouldn’t mind such a small thing. That’s great—I’ll still be your most loyal fan!”

Happily, he took the clothes and went to the bathroom to change in front of the mirror.

The bathroom door wasn’t fully closed, so from Fu Shicang’s angle, he could clearly see the upward lift of An Leyan’s arm, the fair skin, and a quick glimpse of two pink dots.

Fu Shicang yanked open the wardrobe door to block his view.

In the end, An Leyan picked a light-colored shirt with a semi-sheer waistline design, paired with white casual jeans—clean and fresh.

He gave a nod to Fu Shicang, who was buttoning his shirt, and happily dashed out of the room.

The man left behind froze for a moment—he couldn’t get that button to go through the hole no matter what, and in frustration nearly ripped it off. Finally, he changed into a different shirt altogether.

The guests had all driven themselves, and the three pairs departed from the villa at the same time.

An Leyan got into Yinxin’s car and smiled at him. “Where are we going?”

“Is Haishi Art Museum okay?” Yinxin turned his head. “I have an exhibit there—I’d like… to introduce my work to you.”

“That sounds perfect!” An Leyan buckled his seatbelt. “I’ve always been curious about your style. This is the perfect chance for you to explain it to me.”

Haishi Art Museum was located in the new district in the east of the city, with a surrounding tree-lined avenue that was also well-known. After parking, the two walked slowly along the shady path.

“So the art museum’s here, huh?” An Leyan looked ahead curiously. In his memory, this side of the eastern district was more suburban—there were no art institutions like this.

“Actually, this art museum is connected to the Fu family,” Yinxin said suddenly.

“Really?” An Leyan was even more surprised. He tried to recall, but aside from Fu Shicang, he couldn’t think of any family members with a special talent in art.

“The museum was originally the Fu family’s private academy, founded by Fu Shicang’s father as the first-generation Ulin Disease Research Institute. Later, as the city expanded, the Fu family built a larger and better research center in the outskirts and donated this land to turn it into an art school for children who had suffered from Ulin Disease.”

An Leyan walked slowly along the stone path of the shady avenue. “So there’s that history too. Mr. Fu Xingshan really made major contributions to Ulin Disease research. I know—the first generation of targeted medicine was his achievement.”

He had actually met Fu Shicang’s father before, but he was very young at the time. Now he could barely recall the man’s face—only that he was tall and gentle. When he heard of his death in a car accident later on, he’d been heartbroken for a while.

But in this world, Fu Xingshan had died nearly a decade earlier—when Fu Shicang was just twelve years old.

“Mm.” Yinxin suddenly quickened his pace and moved in front of him, as if gathering courage. “I’m a Ulin patient too. You…”

He looked away slightly. “Would you be disgusted by that?”

An Leyan blinked.

Ulin Disease was thought to be caused by unknown pollution and later became a hereditary condition. Patients were like vampires—sensitive to sunlight. With medication, most could behave normally; a few developed mild autism symptoms, such as narrow interests, stubborn behavior, and difficulty communicating.

Yinxin had always fixated on studying people’s eyes and didn’t talk much on the dating show. That probably explained a lot.

An Leyan smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “What’s this about disgust? Disgusted because you’re so grateful? Or because you’re a genius painter?”

Yinxin paused, then smiled with him.

Because of the frightening symptoms during flare-ups, Ulin patients were often discriminated against. He never hid his condition from the world, but in front of An Leyan, he was nervous—scared of being looked down on.

But now, the other person hadn’t shown any fear at all—and even praised him as a genius!

Yinxin smiled sincerely. “Yeah, I can control my illness now, and I can make beautiful paintings. Come on, I’ll show you my exhibit.”

The cameraman followed behind them, capturing the whole exchange and transmitting it back to the studio.

Watching the monitor, Zhang Mao sighed, “How did we never realize—An Leyan is a total gem! The way he talks to people—who could resist that?”

Assistant Director Wang leaned in, “What were he and Anderson talking about in the gazebo yesterday? The audio from that camera was bad—we could barely make out words like ‘sasaeng fan’ and ‘handling it,’ like they were trading professional tips or something. And then today, An Leyan’s a whole new person!”

“Exactly!” another crew member chimed in. “Before, he seemed a bit petty—just following behind Fu Shicang like a sidekick. But today, whether with Fu Shicang or now with Yinxin, he’s just… calm. Like someone who’s weathered real storms and come out serene.”

Everyone nodded. Zhang Mao waved his hand. “Enough chit-chat! While they’re out, check every camera in the villa. Replace any with bad audio or blurry visuals! If it goes over budget, send the bill to me. I want every word and every expression from these people captured clearly!”