Jiang Tian dashed back downstairs, cheeks flushed as he reported, “Teacher Liang said he’ll be down soon.”

Yan An snapped back to reality.

This kid really is too naïve. He actually believed Liang Baiyu’s words?

And sure enough, five minutes later, there was still no sign of Liang Baiyu at the staircase.

Jiang Tian shifted awkwardly, just as someone else lost their patience.

A cool and collected female voice rang out. “I’ll go.”

Ji Lan, the action film star, had risen from the couch. She removed her sunglasses, revealing a strikingly beautiful face laced with an unmistakable aura of dominance.

She flexed her knuckles, the sound of cracking joints echoing through the living room. Then, with one hand tucked into her pocket, she said coldly, “I’ll handle it.”

Before anyone could react, she turned and strode upstairs.

Yan An shivered slightly.

A month before filming began, she had thoroughly researched all the guests, even watching several of Ji Lan’s movies.

Ji Lan’s family owned a martial arts school, and she’d been training since she was a kid. Getting hit by her genuinely hurt. But who would’ve thought she’d also be good at plucking pigeon feathers?

Curious and eager for front-row drama, Yan An hopped off the couch, her tone laced with barely hidden glee.

“I have to see this.”

If there was one thing Ji Lan hated, it was waiting.

Back on set, anyone who showed up late never got a warm welcome from her.

Wearing glossy black leather shoes, she strode straight up to the second floor and stopped in front of the bedroom door.

It was slightly ajar. Without a second thought, she narrowed her eyes, raised her leg, and kicked it open.

【Lan-jie 66666666】

【After flaking for years, the pigeon finally crashes into a brick wall! I’m hyped!】

【Let’s go, Lan-jie! Put him in his place! That’s what you get for ghosting people!】

【Um, isn’t this a bit much? Couldn’t she just talk instead of kicking down the door?】

【What, are pigeon stans so traumatized they think this is normal? Everyone else showed up at 4 on the dot, including Qi Yan and he’s still missing. What, does he need someone to carry him down? Why should everyone else have to wait?】

【Exactly. Can’t believe someone like Liang Baiyu is still in the industry. His delusional fans are the real problem. Gross.】

【Excuse me? Sure, he’s a flake, but his musics are good. One album in three years, and every track is a classic. Name someone else who can pull that off. I’ll wait.】

【Right? He ghosts everyone, yet variety shows keep inviting him. That says something.】

【Tsk tsk, these fans are seriously trauma-bonded. All I’ll say is Liang Baiyu, just leave. Please.】

The livestream’s comment section exploded. Baiyu’s fans went to war with his haters, while everyone else just kicked back with popcorn and enjoyed the mess.

Ji Lan’s kick had echoed through the whole house. 

Bang!

Loud and clear in the downstairs living room.

Wen Yang instinctively glanced at Qi Yan, who sat quietly, detached from the chaos, and murmured, concerned, “They’re not actually going to fight, right…?”

Jiang Tian tensed too, eyes locked on the staircase, ready to jump in and break things up if needed.

Halfway up, Yan An slowed to a crawl. She didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire, so she crept up the stairs with the ultimate “just here for the tea” expression.

The bullet comments went wild.

【That’s literally me! Peak bystander energy hahaha】

【I love her. She’s iconic. Stop calling her ‘that rando guest’. Her name is Yan An!】

【An-an is officially my bias now.】

【Yan An: queen of gossip face, walking meme, certified mood】

Cut to Ji Lan.She stormed into the room, ready to unleash a full-on tirade, but froze mid-step.

Liang Baiyu was standing in front of the dressing mirror.

He was too tall for it, so he’d hunched slightly, carefully spritzing hairspray, one burst at a time, before gently smoothing his hair into place. The entire scene screamed obsessive vanity.

He didn’t even flinch at the door slam, like he was used to it. Glancing at Ji Lan through the mirror, he raised a brow and smirked. 

“Oh. It’s you.”

Ji Lan’s face darkened, her sharp features practically slicing through the air. Her voice was frosty. 

“Liang Baiyu. It’s 4:05. Everyone’s waiting.”

“Oh, oops.” He set down the hairspray with a shrug.

“Guess I lost track of time. My bad.”

He grabbed a nearby hat, adjusted it carefully to avoid messing up his hair, then put on his sunglasses and turned to face her. “All done. See? I said I’d be quick.”

Just as he stepped forward, he paused, spun around, grabbed a bottle of sunscreen spray, and stuffed it in his pocket. “Okay, now I’m good.”

Ji Lan clenched her fists. On her way out, she slammed the door again. Bang!

Yan An, who had just reached the top of the stairs, jumped at the sound and instinctively flattened herself against the wall.

Ji Lan threw her a withering glare, spotted her “I’m-just-here-for-the-drama” face, and sneered in disdain before striding past her like she didn’t even exist.

Yan An let out a shaky breath and patted her chest, along with the two tiny creatures hiding in her pockets.

She straightened up just as Liang Baiyu stepped out.

The world had changed. Beings like them couldn’t communicate telepathically anymore. They were more or less like ordinary humans now. Still, with over a hundred years of friendship between them, a few looks were enough.

Liang Baiyu: What are you doing here?

Yan An: Checking on your pigeon feathers. Seeing if they’re still intact.

Liang Baiyu: They are.

Yan An: Pity.

Brushing some white powder off her clothes, she put on her best polite smile and said, “Good afternoon, Teacher Liang. Everyone’s waiting.”

Liang Baiyu quite liked the sound of that. “Alright then. Let’s go.”

The two of them headed downstairs, one after the other.

Once everyone had gathered, the director began assigning the day’s mission.

Unlike most variety shows, where tasks were decided through discussion or by drawing lots. ‘A Taste of Everyday Life’ had its own approach: mandatory pairings, non-negotiable.

Director: “You’ll be preparing dinner today. Here’s how the tasks are split: Ji Lan and Jiang Tian will catch fish. Liang Baiyu and Wen Yang will pick vegetables. Qi Yan and Yan An will catch chickens.”

Reactions were mixed, some brightened, others darkened.

Ji Lan had only one wish: Anyone but Liang Baiyu.

The moment she realized she’d dodged that bullet, she snatched up her fishing gear and marched straight out the door.

Jiang Tian’s eyes lit up at the mention of fishing. Brimming with youthful curiosity, he eagerly grabbed the remaining tools and hurried after Ji Lan.

Meanwhile, the atmosphere in the living room was far less enthusiastic.

To be precise, it was Yan An and Wen Yang who looked particularly gloomy.

Yan An simply didn’t want to be paired with her ex-husband, her aversion was instinctual. Three years ago, she had feared him but still took the risk, lured by his devastating looks.

But now, she had already indulged in his beauty, even had children with him. Naturally, she preferred to keep her distance.

As for Wen Yang, she only wanted to be with Qi Yan.

However, with the cameras rolling, neither of them dared to openly request a change in partners. They could only plaster on stiff smiles, ones that looked more pain than pleased, and head off in their assigned directions.

The chicken coop was about a ten-minute walk from the house, and Qi Yan walked ahead in silence.

On camera, his expression remained perfectly composed, betraying nothing unnecessary. Every emotion was neatly tucked away behind that flawless face. He exuded the air of a reserved and enigmatic film emperor, distant yet alluring.

Fans loved this persona.

Yan An bit her lip, thinking to herself. Her ex-husband was definitely not the same person in private.

She lowered her head, dragging her feet slightly as if reluctant to keep up.

When they passed a dense thicket, she blinked, glanced around, and suddenly crouched down. “I need to tie my shoelace.”

…Her shoelace was perfectly fine.

The cameraman: “…”

【???】

【…I knew Yan An was up to something after that long silence.】

【Miss Yan, you’re so full of tricks. What are you scheming this time? I don’t care! I’m laughing first!】

Yan An stared at her shoelace, intact and undisturbed, before calmly untying it. With a straight face, she explained, “It was slightly crooked just now. I can’t accept crooked shoelaces.”

As she spoke, she subtly shifted her position, turning away from the camera while crouching on the concrete path.

The cameraman: Are you messing with me on purpose?

Adjusting his glasses, he hoisted the camera and moved in for a closer shot, determined to find out what she was up to.

But in that brief window, Yan An had already discreetly tossed her mini-sized lemon and bitter gourd into the bushes, executed with absolute precision.

She glanced at the thicket one last time, then casually retied her shoelace (which was now more crooked than before) and hurried to catch up with Qi Yan.

【…Did she just make it worse? Or am I seeing things?】

【Yan An’s fans will tell you: Yes, you’re seeing things! Look at that shoelace! It’s tidy! They are perfect】

【HAHAHAHA】

The livestream cut to Yan An’s silhouette chasing after Qi Yan before switching to Liang Baiyu and Wen Yang’s segment.

The camera feeds from A Taste of Everyday Life were first transmitted to the main control room, where staff members quickly selected the most engaging content for the livestream.

So, the broadcast wasn’t actually live. It had a three-minute delay.

Wen Yang and Liang Baiyu walked toward the vegetable garden, baskets in hand.

Midway, a few sparrows perched on a nearby sapling. Liang Baiyu stopped in his tracks, strolling closer to observe them.

Wen Yang halted as well, a polite smile on her face, one that never quite reached her eyes.

She waited for a full minute. Seeing that Liang Baiyu was still fixated on the birds, she cleared her throat and gently urged, “Teacher Liang, we should start picking vegetables.”

Liang Baiyu removed his sunglasses. “You go ahead. I’ll be there in a bit.”

Wen Yang’s smile stiffened.

This was awkward. If she went alone, wouldn’t all the work fall on her shoulders?

But since she had to maintain her ‘national first love’ image; soft, sweet, and gentle. She could only reply, “Alright, then. Just don’t take too long.”

Liang Baiyu waved lazily, his deep, mesmerizing voice carrying a casual drawl. “Mm. I’ll be quick.”

With that, Wen Yang had no choice but to head to the vegetable garden alone, basket in hand.

Yes, Liang Baiyu was handsome, had a great voice, and was talented.

But Wen Yang still looked down on him.

After all, he was just a background character in the novel, not even important enough to have a name.

What reason did she have to waste time on him?

Lowering her gaze slightly, she revealed a delicate, picturesque side profile. As she walked, she spoke to the system in her mind. ‘What’s going on? Didn’t you say the tasks in this show would be assigned by drawing lots? You promised to rig it so I’d be partnered with Qi Yan.’

A cold, mechanical voice promptly responded: 【There’s been a change.】

Wen Yang: Why?

System: 【An issue has occurred. The main program is scanning for the cause. The analysis will take time. Please be patient.】