Yan An held the large rooster in her arms, unsure whether to drop it or keep holding on.

In the end, she still couldn’t bring herself to abandon the rooster. Clutching the heavy bird in her arms, she sprinted forward as fast as she could.

Nestled in the bushes lay a lemon and a bitter gourd.

The bitter gourd blended seamlessly with its surroundings. If someone passed by without paying close attention, they would likely overlook it entirely.

But the lemon was different. Its bright golden-yellow hue stood out vividly against the sea of green. Unless someone was colorblind or completely distracted, they would notice it instantly.

And once the lemon was spotted, the bitter gourd beside it would inevitably be exposed as well.

Qi Yan’s gaze locked onto them.

Yan An’s heart skipped a beat. Flustered, she hastily bent down, intending to set the rooster down.

Unexpectedly, the rooster who had fought tooth and nail when she first caught it, had become oddly docile ever since Qi Yan tossed it into her arms. Now, sensing that it was about to be placed on the ground, it resisted, flapping its large wings in protest.

It seemed this was the first time the rooster had realized just how comfortable a human embrace could be. More than that, it was relishing the convenience of not having to walk on its own two feet.

Just as Yan An and the rooster engaged in their tug-of-war, one trying to let go, the other refusing to be let go, Qi Yan moved.

He bent down, his slender fingers reaching for the lemon.

Little Yan Mengmeng trembled. If not for Yan An’s repeated warnings before she left, reminding them that they must not transform into human form or do anything unusual in public, he would have bolted by now.

Of course, Qi Yan had no idea what was going through the lemon’s mind. With a slight flex of his fingers, the lemon rolled into his palm.

His gaze swept over the bitter gourd beside it. Without hesitation, he picked that up as well.

Yan An, who had witnessed everything, panicked. She shoved the plump rooster aside, took two large strides forward, and blocked Qi Yan’s path.

She wanted to snatch them back but didn’t dare act too hastily, fearing she might expose herself.

Besides, the cameras and staff were still around.

Suppressing her anxiety, Yan An forced what she hoped was a friendly smile and said in a negotiating tone, “Teacher Qi, I brought that lemon and bitter gourd with me. I was tying my shoelaces just now and accidentally dropped them here. Could you give them back to me?”

Qi Yan raised an eyebrow.

He rubbed the smooth lemon in his hand, tossing it into the air and catching it repeatedly.

Yan An’s heart rose and fell with the lemon, swaying nervously.

Qi Yan asked nonchalantly, “They’re yours?”

Yan An nodded eagerly, cupping her hands together, her gaze filled with hope.

Qi Yan said, “Got any proof?”

Yan An clenched her fists. “I was just tying my shoelaces here. If you don’t believe me, ask the cameraman!”

“Oh?” Qi Yan didn’t sound convinced.

He caught the lemon again, glanced at Yan An, then casually slipped both the lemon and the bitter gourd into his pocket. With an air of complete entitlement, he said, “Then consider them a gift to me.”

Then, he turned and walked away.

Yan An panicked. “Teacher Qi!”

Qi Yan responded indifferently, “Don’t forget to take the rooster.”

Standing there, utterly exasperated, she watched Qi Yan walk away, then glanced down at the large rooster waiting at her feet. Frustrated, she flicked her head back, scooped up the rooster, and scrambled after him.

By the time Qi Yan and Yan An returned, the other two groups had already arrived.

Afraid the rooster would run off, Yan An tied one end of a rope around its legs and the other to a post. Then, she plopped down on the sofa, waiting for the director to announce the next task.

But her mind was elsewhere. She kept sneaking glances at Qi Yan, who was seated beside her.

Her two babies were still in his pocket, and for now, he wasn’t doing anything. She could only wait and see.

Meanwhile, Wen Yang, who had been watching Qi Yan closely, immediately noticed Yan An’s repeated glances.

She lowered her head slightly, running her fingers through her long hair, an uncomfortable feeling creeping over her. As if something that belonged to her was being coveted by someone else.

Wen Yang had been shaken.

In her past life, she had worked for a major corporation and had set her sights on her highly capable and well-off superior.

It took her only a month to win his heart, and the two carried on a secret affair for three years.

Then, his wife found out. Enraged, she drove straight at Wen Yang, killing her on the spot.

After her death, a system appeared, asking if she wanted to enter a novel world to complete certain tasks. If she succeeded, she would gain endless wealth.

Without hesitation, Wen Yang agreed.

According to the system, the book she was in was titled ‘Yan’. Wen Yang suspected it was still an ongoing serial, most likely a male-protagonist-centric novel.

The system updated the plot summary periodically, but always with a delay. It would only inform her of events after they had already occurred.

For example, Qi Yan had successfully sent the former CEO of Kangheng Entertainment to prison and taken over the company. However, to maintain a low profile, he had assigned Wang Shi as the public-facing president instead.

Additionally, when Qi Yan wasn’t filming, he was expanding his business empire.

Three years had passed since Wen Yang entered the book. In that time, Qi Yan had accumulated unimaginable power and wealth, yet no one knew about it. She was the only one who did.

For three years, she had tried everything to get close to Qi Yan, but there was simply no way to meet him. Given his status, he was far beyond her reach.

To make matters worse, the system was painfully slow. Every time it detected Qi Yan’s location and she rushed over, he was already gone.

She hadn’t even seen him in person, which meant she couldn’t activate some of the system’s golden-finger abilities either.

After repeated failures, Wen Yang had no choice but to enter the entertainment industry, working tirelessly to make herself famous. Only by rising to stardom would she have a chance to meet Qi Yan.

Sure enough, after carefully selecting a solid idol drama script and shooting to fame with its success, she finally received an invitation to this variety show.

At first, Wen Yang hadn’t expected Qi Yan to participate in the show. She had only considered that since Kangheng was producing the variety program, it might serve as a stepping stone, perhaps even an opportunity to meet Qi Yan.

But she hadn’t anticipated the system suddenly informing her one day that Qi Yan himself would be joining.

No matter what, she had to seize this chance.

Throughout her life, every man Wen Yang had ever set her sights on, regardless of status, position, or even whether he was single, had never escaped her grasp.

She was confident Qi Yan would be no exception.

…

The director announced the next task assignments.

“Jiang Tian will handle the fish, Liang Baiyu will slaughter the chicken, Ji Lan and Wen Yang will wash the vegetables, Qi Yan will do the chopping, and Yan An will cook.”

Yan An, momentarily distracted by thoughts of her two little ones, snapped back to attention. She immediately protested, “I can’t cook! Director, are you sure this isn’t a mistake?”

【Little An An, it’s precisely because you can’t cook that they’re making you do it.】

【Classic variety show setup. Has Yan An never watched one before?】

【Pfft, her face just now! Absolute confusion and panic!】

The director, his slightly chubby face full of amusement, reassured her, “No mistake, Yan An. Good luck. Tonight’s dinner is in your hands.”

Yan An: “…”

With tasks assigned, everyone got to work.

Wen Yang and Ji Lan stood by the sink, washing vegetables, most of which Wen Yang and Liang Baiyu had gathered earlier: bok choy, napa cabbage, celery, bitter gourd, chili peppers, and more.

After washing three bitter gourds, Wen Yang personally handed them to Qi Yan, her expression shy as she absentmindedly smoothed back a few stray strands of hair. In a soft, delicate voice, she said, “Teacher Qi, the bitter gourds are ready.”

According to the system, Qi Yan liked eating bitter gourd.

Qi Yan gave a nonchalant hmm but didn’t reach out to take them. Instead, he simply pointed to the cutting board. “Put them there.”

Wen Yang’s smile stiffened for a brief moment. She had planned to use this chance for some casual physical contact, but she quickly recovered and placed the bitter gourds on the board with a gentle, “Okay.”

Meanwhile, Yan An was busy dealing with the rice.

She had washed the grains and poured them into the pot. Looking at the water level barely covering the rice, she hesitated.

Water was a precious resource, vital to all life. Naturally, the more, the better.

So she grabbed a bowl of water and swoosh, poured it in.

The water instantly rose well past the rice, though thankfully, it hadn’t reached the top of the pot yet.

Satisfied with her work, Yan An closed the rice cooker. Following some guidance from Liang Baiyu, who had come in to grab a knife for slaughtering the chicken, she then pressed a few buttons on the rice cooker.

Mission accomplished, Liang Baiyu stepped back. Before leaving, he gave her an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

Yan An, thinking of his own task, returned the sentiment. “Good luck to you too.”

Liang Baiyu had always harbored a soft spot for birds. Though the rooster couldn’t fly, it was still technically a fellow avian species.

He wasn’t sure if he could go through with it.

A pigeon being assigned to kill a chicken… Compared to that, Yan An’s cooking task seemed downright merciful.

Sighing, Liang Baiyu tidied his hair, shook his head, and walked out of the kitchen.

Yan An watched her friend leave, then let her gaze drift toward Qi Yan, who had also picked up a knife.

On the cutting board, three bitter gourds lay in clear view.

Yan An’s heart lurched. Alarmed, she bolted over, standing anxiously beside Qi Yan.

Those three bitter gourds weren’t her babies, but what if, in the process of chopping them, Qi Yan accidentally grabbed the wrong one?

She had to keep an eye on him.

Qi Yan glanced at her but said nothing. He simply picked up a bitter gourd, weighed it in his hand, and then, with a swift motion, thud, brought the knife down.

Yan An gasped, immediately covering her eyes. Her shoulders trembled slightly. She couldn’t bear to watch.

Meanwhile, little Yan Kuku, nestled inside Qi Yan’s pocket, was scared to tears.

Qi Yan had sliced the bitter gourd cleanly down the middle.

These village-grown bitter gourds were quite large, and the inside was already filled with seeds.

Washing his hands, Qi Yan dug out the seeds and tossed them into the trash.

Then, taking half of the bitter gourd, he began slicing it diagonally into even pieces.

His knife skills were swift and precise. The wooden cutting board, thicker and sturdier than typical kitchen boards, produced a crisp, rhythmic sound as the blade met its surface. 

Thud, thud, thud.

Yan An, still covering her eyes, peeked through her fingers.

Qi Yan knew how to cook.

During their brief marriage three years ago, whenever he had some free time, he would occasionally prepare meals.

He genuinely liked bitter gourds.

To be honest, back then, Yan An had worked up the courage to try a bite—only to immediately spit it out. It was unbearably bitter.

Of course, that was a secret she could never let Yan Kuku know, or else mother and son might end up turning against each other.

At the time, she hadn’t been pregnant yet, hadn’t had a bitter gourd child. So it didn’t seem like a big deal.

But now, things were different.

At this rate, once Qi Yan finished cutting the three bitter gourds, wouldn’t it be Yan Kuku’s turn next?

Sure enough, a moment later, Qi Yan glanced at the visibly anxious Yan An, then slowly reached into his pocket.

Yan Kuku gulped.

A second later, he was lifted out.

The little bitter gourd wasn’t very big and was still a bit soft, with a slight sheen of moisture on its surface.

Qi Yan held it under the faucet and rinsed it.

The water was icy cold.

Staring at the neatly sliced bitter gourd pieces on the cutting board, Yan Kuku suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of danger.

His body tensed, instinct screaming at him to struggle.

He knew bitter gourds weren’t supposed to move. But the threat was too real. He was only three years old. He had already endured as much as he possibly could.

But for some reason, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t move.