As Qi Yan and the others boarded, Yan An remained fully committed to her role as a heat-stricken patient.

Leaning against the window with her eyes closed, she continued massaging her temples, maintaining the illusion of weakness.

The moment she heard footsteps, her tightly shut eyes fluttered open ever so slightly as she stole a quick peek at the situation.

The minibus had limited seating. Aside from the six guests, the photographers and crew members also needed space, leaving them with only four rows and eight seats.

Yan An had already claimed one.

With Qi Yan’s status in the entertainment industry, the other three guests naturally followed behind him, waiting for him to pick his seat first.

The photographers, positioned at the back, captured everything, making it seem as though the entire vehicle was focused on the supposedly “ill” Yan An.

The pressure was suffocating. She quickly shut her eyes again, tilting her head slightly to the side, not daring to peek anymore.

One person’s gaze might be easy to ignore, but an entire group staring at you? That kind of heat could rival today’s scorching sun.

Even the tiny figures hidden in her pocket, Yan Mengmeng and Yan Kuku, could feel it.

Since she was seated, no one noticed the slight trembling of her two small pockets.

Yan Mengmeng: What’s happening? I’m scared!

Yan Kuku: Huh? What’s going on? Why is everyone looking at me?

But recalling Yan An’s stern warnings before they came, and haunted by the horrifying memories of lemon-infused water and stir-fried bitter melon, they remained silent, not daring to make a sound.

Qi Yan’s gaze swept over her, deep and unreadable.

Without a word, he removed his cap, ran a hand through his slightly tousled hair, and, instead of putting it back on, grabbed his luggage and sat down. Right beside her.

Yan An: !!!

She instinctively turned her head further toward the window, acutely aware of the man sitting next to her. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to escape, to leap straight out of the vehicle if necessary.

But… the thirty million was already in her pocket. There was no way she was giving it back. Absolutely not.

So, she had no choice but to sit there stiffly, like a lifeless, withered tree.

She dreaded the possibility that, at any moment, Qi Yan might casually turn to her and say…

“Long time no see, my dear ex-wife. How have you been?”

If that happened, she might actually drop dead on the spot.

Qi Yan’s fan army was like a swarm of locusts, devouring everything in their path.

If they ever found out she was his ex-wife, and that she had even given birth to six of his children…

As a mere Copper Coin Grass, she would be chewed down to the roots with nothing left.

Meanwhile, Wen Yang, who had planned to sit in the same row as Qi Yan once he settled in, momentarily darkened her expression. However, she quickly regained her composure and took the closest available seat near him.

Ji Lan, clearly impatient, pushed up her sunglasses before dropping into a seat with a lazy sprawl, one leg casually crossed over the other.

Jiang Tian settled into the remaining empty row.

Now, each of the four rows had someone in it. Except for one.

Only Qi Yan and Yan An were seated together.

As for Liang Baiyu… he was nowhere to be found.

Sweating profusely, the director finally ended a call and stepped onto the vehicle. “Baiyu said he’ll be here soon. Should we wait for him?”

Yan An nearly blurted out, No way!

Just before she arrived, she had messaged him, and he had also said, “I’ll be there soon.” But the director didn’t know, when Liang Baiyu said “soon,” what he really meant was that he hadn’t even left yet!

So, director, let’s just go!

“We should go.”

Before anyone else could respond, a voice spoke up, cool and calm, like a steady stream of water, carrying an inexplicable chill.

Yan An, who had been silently ranting in her head, reflexively clamped a hand over her mouth.

Only then did she realize…

That voice… belonged to her ex-husband.

Oh. So she hadn’t been the one to say it.

But the sound of her abrupt movement was loud enough that Qi Yan, the director, and even the others all turned to look at her.

With her hand still over her mouth, Yan An had no choice but to bluff her way through. “…I-I-I feel a little nauseous. Probably heatstroke…”

The director and staff eyed her with suspicion. She had been perfectly fine just moments ago.

Still, worried that something might actually be wrong, the director turned to call for the on-site medical staff.

Qi Yan glanced at her indifferently before stating, “Isn’t there a first aid kit on board? Just give her a bottle of Huo Xiang Zheng Qi Shui¹.”

At his words, a sharp-eyed staff member quickly retrieved a fresh pack of herbal medicine from the kit.

Qi Yan took one, slowly peeled off the outer plastic seal, pulled out a single bottle, and handed it to Yan An.

“Drink it.”

The camera zoomed in on his hand. A hand so beautiful it looked sculpted, holding a bottle of herbal medicine.

【OMG, my idol is so thoughtful! He’s treating a regular contestant with such kindness!】

【But Huo Xiang Zheng Qi Water tastes horrible.】

【Forget the taste! LOOK AT THAT HAND! I’d drink it even if it were poison!】

However, Yan An didn’t share their enthusiasm.

She stared at the small, terrifying bottle as if it were some monstrous beast.

Frantically, she waved her hands, stammering, “N-n-no need!”

The sight instantly triggered a memory from three years ago, before she had even married Qi Yan.

Back then, she had just arrived in this world, penniless and without spiritual energy. She had followed him all the way through a scorching summer day, nearly withering into Copper Coin Grass dust.

Barely conscious, she had been dragged into his home, where he rummaged through the medicine cabinet and found… this very thing.

And then, he had poured it straight down her throat.

In her two hundred years of existence, Yan An had never known such a horrifying substance could exist.

She wasn’t even sure she had been cured back then. She might have just been shocked awake by the sheer awfulness of it.

For a whole month, she swore the medicine’s scent clung to her, an unshakable reminder of her suffering.

From that moment on, she vowed: 

Never again!

Qi Yan’s brow arched slightly, as if he had expected her reaction.

Leaning in just enough that only she could hear, he murmured, “What? Want me to force it down again?”

Yan An visibly flinched.

Recalling the sheer brutality with which he had administered the medicine back then, she trembled as she took the bottle from his hand.

“…I’ll drink it myself.”

Qi Yan hummed lightly in acknowledgment.

Yan An pursed her lips and shifted her gaze out the window. Slowly, she raised the bottle.

Higher… higher… just a little bit more…

Thud.

With a soft clink, the bottle of Huo Xiang Zheng Qi Shui tumbled right out the window.

【Holy crap. That was smooth. Respect.】

【Oops, what an ‘unfortunate accident.’】

【She looked at that bottle like it was her mortal enemy.】

【LMAO, this girl is hilarious.】

Yes!

Yan An cheered inwardly.

Outwardly, however, she adopted a miserable expression. Copying Yan Kuku’s signature bitter melon face and sighed apologetically.

“…Oops. Slipped.”

Qi Yan’s eyelids lifted slightly.

Unfazed, he reached into the pack and pulled out another bottle.

“It’s fine. There’s more.”

Yan An: …

【LMAO HELP I CAN’T BREATHE】

【Qi Yan = the Devil himself.】

【WTF? She threw away the medicine he gave her? If she didn’t want it, why not just say so? What a pretentious, fake white lotus! Gross! She should just disappear!】

【Uh… who let the toxic trash in here? Reported.】

【This is a comedy variety show. Either laugh or scream in support. Don’t ruin the vibe. You think you’re some moral judge? Get over yourself.】

The live chat erupted into chaos, but Yan An remained blissfully unaware.

She simply stared at the second bottle now hovering in front of her.

Defeated, she slumped against the window, pulled her sun-protective jacket over her head, and muttered in despair, “…Seriously, I’m fine. I just need to sleep.”

Not far from them, Wen Yang had been quietly observing everything.

Her fingers curled slightly, her gaze lingering on Qi Yan’s profile.

Summoning her courage, she spoke up.

“Teacher Qi… could I have one too?”²

Qi Yan looked at her expressionlessly.

Under his gaze, the air felt suffocatingly heavy, but Wen Yang forced herself to continue.

“The weather is quite hot today. I thought I’d drink one as a precaution… so I won’t trouble anyone if I get heatstroke later.”

Wen Yang’s words were both appropriate and generous. With her consistently positive public image and strong audience appeal, the comment section was instantly flooded with fans’ declarations of admiration.

Hearing this, Yan An, who was wrapped in a sun-protective jacket, paused slightly. She discreetly shifted her gaze, peering at Wen Yang through the thin fabric. Her eyes gleamed with admiration, her thoughts perfectly aligning with those of the fans in the chat.

What kind of adorable little cutie is this? She’s actually willing to drink Huoxiang Zhengqi Shui even when she doesn’t have heatstroke?!

Human beings truly are the greatest and bravest species in the world. I’m in awe!

Under the watchful eye of the camera, Qi Yan remained silent. He was in a relatively good mood today, and upon seeing an old acquaintance… well, she was still just as round.

Without saying a word, he casually tossed the entire box in his hand to Wen Yang.

Caught off guard, Wen Yang scrambled to catch it, her face flushing red as she stammered out a thank you.

Liang Baiyu still hadn’t arrived, though the director had anticipated this when he invited him.

Rather than waiting around, the production team quickly made the decision to move forward with their schedule.

However, just as the car had barely started moving, another vehicle pulled up. 

Liang Baiyu’s agent jumped out in a hurry, chasing after them while shouting, “Director! We’re here! Liang Baiyu has arrived! Please wait for us!”

Liang Baiyu’s agent was a slightly plump, short middle-aged man.

Perhaps due to spending too much time around Liang Baiyu, his voice had developed an unmistakable volume. The moment he shouted, everyone in the car heard him.

The driver immediately hit the brakes.

A moment later, the agent caught up, dragging Liang Baiyu along with him. Standing by the car door, he sternly reminded, “Liang Baiyu, this is a twelve-hour live broadcast. Be mindful of your time!”

Liang Baiyu waved his hand nonchalantly. “Relax, I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”

His agent let out a deep sigh.

A grown man on the verge of tears but unable to cry. He could only wipe the sweat from his face before impatiently shoving his artist into the car.

…Well, regardless of how believable that statement is, at least he won’t have to deal with him for the next few days!

From under his sun-protective jacket, Yan An discreetly lifted a corner and peered out the window, watching as Liang Baiyu’s agent walked away. He looked like a man who had just escaped from the depths of hell. His joy had completely vanished.

---

Reference

1. 
   1. 藿香正气水 (Huòxiāng Zhèngqì Shuǐ) is a traditional Chinese herbal medicine commonly used to treat symptoms related to heatstroke, colds, digestive issues, and humidity-related discomfort. It has a strong herbal and slightly bitter taste, with a noticeable alcohol content, which can make it feel spicy or warming when swallowed. Many people find the taste unpleasant, but its effectiveness makes it a go-to remedy in Chinese households. ↩︎
2. 
   2. The term “teacher” (老师, lǎoshī) is commonly used among colleagues in the entertainment industry to address actors and actresses as a sign of respect. It acknowledges their experience, skill, and role as mentors both on and off set. ↩︎

Image of Huòxiāng Zhèngqì Shuǐ from Google