The next morning, as usual, An Leyan went to buy breakfast ingredients.

The ingredients for the reality show were all provided by the production team, and knowing that he would wake up early, Zhang Mao specifically arranged for Xiao Li to follow him, shooting some footage while also paying the bill.

“What are you buying today, Leyan?” Xiao Li only had a handheld camera with him today, which he conveniently fixed on the shopping cart, and the two of them walked into the fresh produce section.

“Let’s buy some beef,” An Leyan said, selecting from the meat counter, “Yesterday we ate sandwiches all day, and I think everyone’s probably had enough of them. I’ll make beef noodles when we get back.”

Xiao Li secretly swallowed, not daring to speak.

An Leyan finished picking out the beef and turned to Xiao Li, “The production team has about ten people stationed here, right? I’ll buy enough for twenty people.”

Xiao Li was surprised, “We have ten too! That’s a lot of beef, can you handle it?”

An Leyan laughed, “It’s just beef noodles, not a main dish. Each bowl gets 30 grams of cooked beef, so for 20 bowls, that’s 600 grams, less than three pounds of raw beef. I’ll just stew it all in one pot.”

Xiao Li stood there stunned, calculating the proportions in his head several times before realizing how it worked. He couldn’t help but think of what Mu Wei had said about An Leyan the day before — “suitable for both home and work,” and this was exactly that!

The beef noodles for breakfast were highly praised by everyone, and even Zhang Mao ate two big bowls, patting his belly and greeting the guests.

“Today is a workday! Come, come, let’s decide who will be the worker today.”

The workday was one of the highlights of “Delicious Relationship,” where two to three days in each episode, two guests were chosen to drive a food truck and sell food.

It was called “work,” but in reality, the two guests would spend a whole day alone together, and they mostly went to beautiful scenic spots, so how was that different from a date?

With that thought, all the guests turned their attention to Zhang Mao.

Zhang Mao smiled and pointed to a corner of the living room wall.

There, a small wooden rack had been made, with each guest’s nameplate hanging from top to bottom.

“We will select a guest to be today’s worker,” Zhang Mao said, pointing to the line of names, “and this guest will decide who their partner will be.”

He smiled and turned back, “On the first day, for a good start, of course, we’ll pick the guest who cooked the best.”

Everyone laughed and turned to look at An Leyan, who was sitting in the corner of the sofa.

“But that’s not the only reason,” Zhang Mao continued, “Leyan got the most text messages on the first day, but didn’t ask for room rights, so today we’ll let him choose his partner. No objections, right?”

“Of course not!” everyone responded almost in unison, while Bai Jingchen and Mu Wei waved at An Leyan, “Go ahead!”

An Leyan stood up, a bit surprised, and walked toward the nameplates. He glanced back.

The sofa in the living room was large, and as usual, Mu Wei sat in the single armchair, twisting his body to look in their direction with eager eyes.

Next to him, Yin Xin, Bai Jingchen, and Nie Changxing were all squeezed onto the long sofa. On the opposite side of Mu Wei’s two-person sofa, only Fu Shicang sat alone.

The others were all watching the nameplates, but he seemed to be chatting with someone, with his head lowered.

An Leyan turned back and secretly smiled.

His Shicang-ge was so domineering, sitting across from Mu Wei, the big boss, and his aura was in no way inferior. That lazy, carefree attitude was so impressive.

After admiring his Shicang-ge in his heart, An Leyan suddenly remembered that when he got up this morning, he noticed that two pills were missing from the painkiller box. It seemed like Shicang-ge’s wound had bothered him again last night.

Maybe today he could take this opportunity to have him check it out at the hospital.

He turned around and found Fu Shicang’s nameplate.

The beautiful mahogany plaque was engraved with Fu Shicang’s name, seemingly written by his own hand.

Resisting the urge to trace the letters with his fingers, An Leyan flipped the plaque over.

Scattered applause rang out in the living room. Fu Shicang, who had been looking at his phone, had already put it down and was standing with a smile, bowing slightly, “I’m honored.”

Zhang Mao was overjoyed. Just as An Leyan flipped the plaque, the expressions on the other guests’ faces were priceless — this was the effect he wanted for the show! When the episode aired this Saturday, he planned to use this moment as the final scene of the first episode to keep the audience hooked!

Then he’d buy trending searches with the hashtag #AnLeyanChoseWho!

Half an hour later, the food truck was ready. An Leyan changed into his clothes and packed his bag to go downstairs. Fu Shicang was already waiting in the driver’s seat.

“Shicang-ge, let me drive!” he looked up at Fu Shicang’s profile, “You came back so late last night, you should catch up on sleep in the car.”

Fu Shicang finished sending his last message in his usual gentle tone, “No need, hurry up and get in.”

An Leyan had chosen the Fountain Park in Haicheng.

It was July, and many tourists were bringing their families to Haicheng for vacation. If they went to the beach, they’d probably barely have time to drink water.

The Fountain Park wasn’t as crowded as the beach, and the locals liked to come here to relax.

Fu Shicang parked the food truck in the designated food-selling area of the park and took out a pack of cigarettes, waving it in front of An Leyan.

“Do you mind?”

An Leyan: “Shicang-ge, wait a moment!”

Then he was pulled to sit by the bar in the RV, watching An Leyan pull a set of professional makeup tools out of his bag.

“I’ll just touch up your look a bit, otherwise, people will recognize you as soon as you get out of the car.”

Fu Shicang was moved.

He had arranged for this before they left, but how did An Leyan already know?

He looked at An Leyan with a bit of caution but didn’t stop him.

The young man approached, skillfully applying a light layer of foundation to him and beginning to adjust his face shape.

He was standing very close, close enough that with one hand, he could pull him into an embrace.

Fu Shicang lowered his gaze, inhaling the faint scent of the white T-shirt An Leyan was wearing.

It was sweet with a hint of fresh fruit, like an unripe peach.

“Don’t worry, I won’t put on heavy makeup,” An Leyan gently explained, “But if you go out looking like this, fans will definitely recognize you. I don’t want your fans to eat me alive.”

So, it was to avoid the fans recognizing him?

A few minutes later, An Leyan stepped back, examining his work. He seemed slightly dissatisfied: “It still feels like it’s missing something.”

Fu Shicang looked at the makeup mirror in the boy’s hand.

The eyebrows had been slightly thickened, and the eye shape had been altered with shadows. An Le Yan, on the other hand, had done the opposite, slightly flattening his distinct facial features, making him look quite different from his usual self.

Fu Shicang took a careful look at his reflection in the mirror and pulled out a pair of gold-rimmed glasses from his pocket, putting them on.

And in that moment, as soon as he put on the glasses, his aura completely changed.

He was no longer the elegant, lazy Fu Shicang, but a business elite tirelessly pursuing achievements and status.

An Le Yan stared in admiration, “Perfect! Truly a master of acting!”

He opened the food truck’s sales window, set up the pretty sunshade, and moved the sign off the truck.

On weekdays, the guests didn’t carry recording equipment. They only set up cameras and microphones inside the food truck. After all, with so many people coming and going, it would look suspicious to sell things with a microphone—like they were acting.

“Cang Ge,” he said in a low voice, approaching Fu Shicang while setting up the sign. “You should go to the hospital.”

Fu Shicang turned around, flicking ash from his cigarette. “What’s wrong? Am I in the way?”

“Not at all!” An Le Yan quickly stood up straight. “Didn’t you say your wound was hurting yesterday? You should go to the hospital and let Dr. Wang prescribe you some medicine.”

He was worried that Fu Shicang might refuse, so he hurriedly added, “The First Hospital is just outside the west gate of the park. It’ll take you no more than an hour to get there. Since you’re in disguise now, I’ll cover for you. The production team won’t find out.”

The smoke swirled upwards, and Fu Shicang remained silent. The gold-rimmed glasses reflected the sunlight, obscuring his expression.

After a while, he stretched out his hand and extinguished the cigarette on the ashtray by the trash can, lazily responding, “I’m not going.”

The words were simple, but they left no room for refusal.

An Le Yan helplessly said, “Then should we start preparing coffee and sandwiches?”

Fu Shicang adjusted his glasses and replied, “You’re the one preparing the coffee and sandwiches. How could I possibly sell sandwiches in this outfit? I’ll just stand aside and inspect your hard work, and act as a good luck charm.”

He tossed the cigarette butt aside and slowly walked over to the dining area next to the food truck, sitting down as if enjoying the scenery.

An Le Yan prepared the sandwich ingredients inside the food truck and looked up to see him.

The man was tall, with long legs. Sitting on the dining chair, his posture was relaxed, but his gaze was cold and indifferent, as if he were just a worker on a break from a stressful project, enjoying a moment at the park.

Even though his features and demeanor had become plain, he was still an incredibly eye-catching presence.

It had only been ten minutes, yet several passersby had already stopped nearby because of him. After confirming he wasn’t a celebrity, they hesitated but were still eager to approach him, unsure whether to start a conversation due to his cold, distant demeanor.

An Le Yan thought for a moment, made a latte and a plate of thick egg toast, and brought them over, placing them on the small table in front of him.

Fu Shicang glanced at him and sneered, “You really don’t waste any resources, do you?”

An Le Yan smiled at him, “I’m the good luck charm, after all. I have to play my part in promotion.”

When An Le Yan returned to the food truck, the few passersby immediately followed him.

Having bought food, they of course had a reason to sit at the table and strike up a conversation.

An Le Yan smiled and recommended the chef’s special of the day.

At lunchtime, many office workers from nearby buildings chose to have lunch at Fountain Park, including Xiao Ya from the advertising company.

She didn’t like takeout’s pre-made food or heavy oil and salt, so she always made an extra sandwich or two for breakfast, enjoying them by Swan Lake in the park at lunch, relaxing a little before returning to the office.

Today, she came to Fountain Park as usual with a colleague.

“Hey, didn’t they add a food truck over there?” her colleague pointed towards the food area in the park. “It’s so pretty!”

Xiao Ya turned her head and saw a food truck at the edge of the food area. The milk-white truck with its bright red and white checkered sunshade added a lively splash of color to the park.

“It looks like they’re selling coffee and sandwiches?” her colleague glanced at the lunch bag in Xiao Ya’s hand. “I wonder, how dare they sell sandwiches in front of you, the expert?”

Xiao Ya laughed. “You’re exaggerating. I just do it for fun, they’re the professionals.”

Though modest in her words, there was a sense of pride in her tone.

“Is that what you call doing it for fun? That sandwich video of yours probably has tens of thousands of followers by now, right?” her colleague teased. “Stop being humble, let’s go and show them what we’ve got.”

Xiao Ya couldn’t help but smile, but her colleague was already quickly heading toward the food truck. She hurriedly followed.

But after just a few steps, her colleague suddenly stopped. “Oh no, Xiao Ya, I can’t move.”

“What’s wrong?” Xiao Ya asked in surprise, but saw her colleague’s face turn red as she nervously pointed towards the food truck.

Xiao Ya quickly turned around and immediately understood what her colleague meant.

The boy selling coffee and sandwiches at the food truck was so good-looking, over 1.8 meters tall, yet still carried the unique youthful charm. His skin was dazzlingly white under the sun, and when serving customers, he always smiled happily, as if surrounded by a lively aura that made people instinctively want to approach him.

Xiao Ya couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh~~ so you like these younger, cute boys, huh?”

Her colleague grabbed her sleeve. “Lower your voice, with him looking like that, you don’t like him?”

“Who doesn’t like a handsome guy? But he’s not my type. I prefer older, more mature ones, the kind that look like they don’t care but still have a sense of control…”

She dragged the last part of her sentence, as if forgetting what she was about to say. Her colleague, confused, followed her gaze.

That handsome boy was now holding a plate of beautifully presented sandwiches, heading toward the seating area in the food court.

Oh my god!

There was also a man with glasses, broad shoulders and long legs, wearing a suit with such ease, looking effortlessly stylish. Though his features weren’t extraordinary, his aura was incredibly elite. His expression was cold and indifferent, as if everything was under his control.

The two girls couldn’t help but gasp quietly.

Under the shade of the tree in the food area, Fu Shicang looked at the fifth plate of sandwiches that An Le Yan brought over, and adjusted his glasses.

“You’re trying to make me burst, aren’t you?” he said with a smile, but his voice came out through clenched teeth.

An Le Yan didn’t respond, just smiling as he placed the plate down, then hurried back to the food truck to attend to the customers.

Despite the air conditioning behind him, he was still sweating under the summer sun. From time to time, he would remove his gloves, wipe his face with a clean towel, and meticulously disinfect his hands before putting his gloves back on, ensuring the food’s hygiene.

He suddenly remembered something An Le Yan had said earlier: his dream was to be a nurse who wipes doctors’ sweat.

Though Fu Shicang hadn’t heard it directly from An Le Yan, he’d overheard other guests joking about it several times.

At first, he had just laughed it off, but now, he suddenly felt that as a dream, it really did have its charm.