The production team was just as tense as he was, though for different reasons.

Fu Shicang’s sudden decision to join the romance reality show ahead of schedule disrupted Director Zhang’s original plans—but ultimately, it was a good thing.

Fu Shicang had a formal acting education and entered the film industry as early as his sophomore year. His debut role was in a film by a renowned domestic director, and with just that first performance, he swept every possible newcomer award in the industry, achieving instant stardom.

But he hadn’t faded away after that. In the following years, though he had few works, every film he chose was meticulously crafted. He was in the prime of building his reputation.

Between film projects, he occasionally appeared on variety shows—mostly short-term engagements, just enough to keep his public presence alive without affecting his main career.

Having someone like him on a romance reality show was far better than the originally planned beauty, Chen Xi. His latest film, Qincheng, had just wrapped up, and according to insider sources, it was set to win awards soon and return in triumph. The promotional synergy would be invaluable.

Chen Xi’s withdrawal was undoubtedly linked to Fu Shicang as well—most likely a simple exchange of resources, leaving all parties satisfied.

For Director Zhang, it was a win-win: no blame to shoulder, and the show would gain massive popularity and traffic. What more could he ask for?

With that in mind, Zhang Mao decided to move the “Truth Messages” segment directly to the opening ceremony. He wanted to stir things up right from the start and set the stage for a dramatic love triangle between Fu Shicang and Mu Wei.

What he didn’t expect was the sudden wildcard—An Leyan.

Looking at the three consecutive messages sent to An Leyan, Director Zhang fell into deep thought.

He had assumed An Leyan was just there to fill a slot. Could he actually be an undercover big shot?

Staring at An Leyan’s simple profile, Zhang Mao pondered for a long while before looking up and asking the assistant director, “What are the results of the messages?”

The assistant director looked utterly bewildered, waving his tablet. “Three to three.”

“What?” Zhang Mao wiped his face. “An Leyan got three votes? Who else?”

“Fu Shicang also got three votes.”

Zhang Mao: …

He smacked the assistant director’s leg. “Haha, this is interesting!”

He had been worried the votes would be too scattered, but in the end, they still concentrated on just two people.

An Leyan had actually taken Mu Wei’s spot.

Whatever, as long as it makes for good TV.

The assistant director winced, rubbing his leg as Zhang Mao gleefully strutted off toward the villa.

It’s just a dating show. Why is he acting like a man possessed?

—

“Alright, time to announce the results!” Zhang Mao cheerfully gathered everyone in the living room. “Let’s see who received the most messages today—”

He deliberately paused, putting on a troubled expression. “Oh no, Xiao Fu and Xiao Yan are tied! What should we do?”

An Leyan’s eyes lit up. A tie?

Ohhh, so everyone’s taste is actually on point!

Ah, but… everyone probably sent messages to Cang Ge, and someone must have pitied me for being left out and thrown me a sympathy vote. Who knew it would end up like this?

My bad, my bad.

He glanced at Fu Shicang, only to find the man looking back at him. A moment later, Fu Shicang turned to Director Zhang. “How about rock-paper-scissors?”

“I agree!” An Leyan immediately chimed in.

“Isn’t that too simple?” Zhang Mao stroked his chin. “How about this: You two play ten rounds. If you tie in five or more, you can discuss and decide the room assignments yourselves. If it’s less than five, we’ll have the system randomly assign them. Sound good?”

“A tie… five or more times?” Mu Wei chuckled. “That’s almost impossible!”

“Director Zhang, you’re really something.” Fu Shicang offered a statistic. “The probability of a tie in rock-paper-scissors is only one-third. You’re asking us to exceed fifty percent—that’s just blatant bullying.”

Zhang Mao widened his eyes. “My show, my rules. You gonna argue about it?”

Fu Shicang laughed. “Fine, you’ve got us. Let’s switch seats.”

An Leyan was confused.

Switch seats? What, is the feng shui bad over there?

But when he looked up, he realized Fu Shicang was actually speaking to Yin Xin, who had been sitting beside him.

For some reason, the genius artist was still infatuated with his eyes—even choosing to sit right next to him.

Only after Fu Shicang made the request did Yin Xin reluctantly stand up, clearly unwilling to leave.

As the man moved, a faint citrus fragrance drifted over, mixed with a cool hint of mint, sharpening the warmth of the original scent.

It’s like Chanel’s Bleu de Chanel—but also different. Only on Cang Ge would it have this effect.

An Leyan’s tense nerves gradually relaxed. He turned to glance at the man now seated beside him.

Still just as stunning, yet without the harshness of revenge weighing him down. He looked exactly like the Fu Shicang from his childhood memories.

The realization of meeting an old acquaintance again only truly sank in at this moment.

Cang Ge, it’s been a long time.

Of course, Fu Shicang had no idea what was running through his mind. All he noticed was that as soon as he sat down, the young man beside him visibly relaxed. The stiffness disappeared, replaced by a natural ease—and perhaps a suppressed eagerness.

“Shall we start?” he reminded.

An Leyan nodded.

He had played this game with Cang Ge countless times. To get his stubborn boss to eat an extra bite or drink a bowl of medicine, he had even reviewed office surveillance footage, analyzing Cang Ge’s expressions and micro-movements before each throw.

After six months of this, Fu Shicang had never won against him again.

Now, looking at that familiar face, he timed his move perfectly.

First round—both threw scissors.

Fu Shicang smiled at him.

Second round—again, scissors.

Third round—rock…

Every time, they moved at the same moment. Every time, their gestures were identical.

He didn’t even need to look at what the other person played—he already knew it would always be a tie.

Fu Shicang’s expression shifted from surprise to amusement, then to something more profound. He simply fixed his gaze on An Leyan and made his move faster.

The two of them locked eyes, yet their hands moved in perfect unison.

The other guests gradually gathered around. Nie Changxing stared intently at An Leyan, then followed his gaze toward Fu Shicang. Suddenly, his eyes flickered as if he had realized something.

An Leyan seemed to sense something as well—his hand trembled, slowing down by a beat. At last, their gestures no longer matched.

“This is unbelievable. Are you two being controlled by something?” Mu Wei was dumbfounded, waving a hand in front of their faces. “Nine out of ten times, you played the exact same thing. Don’t tell me this is telepathy!”

Even Director Zhang was stunned for a long moment. But a bet was a bet—he handed over the right to assign rooms to the two of them.

“Fu-ge, go ahead. I’ll follow your lead,” An Leyan said.

Fu Shicang seemed to be observing his expression all along. Hearing this, he smiled. “Then I’ll just mix things up randomly. If you think anything’s off, speak up.”

An Leyan nodded. “Alright.”

Director Zhang quickly signaled the cameraman to zoom in, making sure to capture everyone’s microexpressions.

Room assignments would inevitably leave some happy and some disappointed. That incredible coincidence just now, combined with these few minutes of footage, would be enough for him to edit half an episode’s worth of content.

Fu Shicang swept his gaze over the guests. “Yinxin, Nie Changxing, and Bai Jingchen will share a room.”

Then, he looked at An Leyan.

Wait… Was he putting all the zero-side guests together?

Oh, that made sense. The dating show had just begun, and everyone’s feelings were still unstable. If they paired ones and zeroes too quickly, things could get awkward.

Cang-ge is so thoughtful. Truly a gentleman.

He nodded in admiration.

Fu Shicang’s lips curved slightly in amusement as he continued, “Mu Wei’s schedule is quite different from the rest of us, so there’s no need for you to adjust. You can take the single room.”

“OK.” Mu Wei raised an eyebrow, his tone slightly playful. “So that means you’ll be rooming with Leyan?”

“Mm. Any objections, Xiao Yan?”

Xiao Yan? Cang-ge called me Xiao Yan? An Leyan froze again.

Such an intimate nickname… like family.

When he didn’t respond for a while, Fu Shicang raised an eyebrow. “No objections, then. Let’s go get our luggage.”

Everyone’s suitcases were downstairs and needed to be moved to the second-floor bedrooms. The guests all rushed down at once, soon crowding the entryway.

An Leyan hesitated for a moment and decided to wait by the stairs, letting the others go up first. But when he glanced away for just a second, he realized—his suitcase was gone.

In the corner of the entryway, there were still two suitcases left: one large, one small. The smaller one looked a lot like his.

He blinked, pulled the small suitcase upright, and just then—Fu Shicang walked down from upstairs.

“Still not up yet?” Fu Shicang stopped beside the larger suitcase, but his gaze remained fixed on An Leyan.

“How did you… do that just now?”

The man’s tall frame loomed over him, and when he lowered his head slightly, the pressure was almost palpable.

An Leyan instinctively leaned against the wall, glancing at Fu Shicang before quickly lowering his eyes.

“I thought it was a coincidence too. Maybe fate helped out?”

He neither admitted to doing it on purpose nor denied any trickery, simply attributing everything to destiny.

Fu Shicang’s lips curved into a faint smile as he stepped closer.

The cool scent of mint suddenly overpowered the warm citrus, carrying an unmistakable sense of aggression.

An Leyan: !

Seeing the young man’s expression finally show a trace of panic, Fu Shicang didn’t press further. Instead, he reached behind him, pulled out his suitcase, and turned to go upstairs.

Phew—

Cold sweat broke out on An Leyan’s back.

Oh my god, this is so intense! I have to be there when Fu-ge corners the villains later—they’ll be scared out of their minds!

So cool!

Sensing the atmosphere, he deliberately slowed his steps, picking up the unattended suitcase and following behind.

Just as he reached the middle of the stairs, a rush of hurried footsteps sounded. Yinxin suddenly dashed down from the corner of the staircase.

He probably hadn’t expected to run into anyone, and he couldn’t stop in time—crashing straight into Fu Shicang.

Fu Shicang staggered from the impact, and An Leyan, who was right behind him, quickly stepped forward to steady him, pressing a hand against his shoulder and back.

The man’s shoulders were broad, and when he leaned against them, he could feel the warmth of his body, the firm elasticity of his muscles—

And his slightly uneven breathing.

“Ah, I’m so sorry!” Yinxin looked guilty. “I grabbed the wrong suitcase, so—”

“It’s fine.” Fu Shicang’s voice was as gentle as ever. “There are only so many people here. Even if you took the wrong one, it wouldn’t be lost.”

But Yinxin still looked uneasy. He quickly leaned past Fu Shicang’s shoulder, scanning the luggage downstairs.

“Don’t worry, it’s with me.”

Feeling that Fu Shicang had regained his balance, An Leyan withdrew his hand and lifted the suitcase behind him, setting it in front of Yinxin. “I just noticed the mix-up and was about to go ask about it.”

“Thank you!” Yinxin looked as if he had just been rescued, hurriedly grabbing the suitcase. “Yours is in my room—come with me.”

As An Leyan followed Yinxin away, Fu Shicang stood still for a couple of seconds before continuing upstairs with his suitcase.

That scatterbrained Yinxin—he just so happened to crash into his injured spot.

Fu Shicang frowned slightly. Was it intentional?

Pushing his suitcase into the bedroom, he sat down at the desk, taking slow, measured breaths.

The wound on his abdomen had taken a heavy hit. The pain throbbed sharply, making his brows knit together.

He had signed the contract for this dating show long ago. Even though the filming date was moved up at the last minute, what if Fu Xinghuai had planned something in advance?

Yinxin might seem like an airhead, but he couldn’t be completely ruled out.

And then there was An Leyan.

Among the six guests, the one closest to Yinxin was him.

Moreover—

From the chocolate drink incident to his reaction during truth or dare, and just now with the rock-paper-scissors game—everything pointed to how unnervingly familiar he was with Fu Shicang.

To an almost frightening degree.

Could he have been sent by Uncle to monitor him?

As he was mulling it over, An Leyan came rushing into the room, dragging his suitcase behind him.

The moment he entered, he shut the door and pulled a T-shirt from his luggage, covering the camera.

“Sorry, I need to change clothes.”

His voice was deliberately loud—clearly meant for the production team to hear.

But he didn’t head to the bathroom or try to avoid anyone. It seemed like he intended to change right there.

Fu Shicang watched with interest as he removed his microphone, but before any ‘beautiful man changing clothes’ moment could be captured on film—

The next second, An Leyan had already flashed in front of him, reaching out to remove the microphone clipped to his collar.

A sharp glint flashed across Fu Shicang’s glasses as he leaned back, making An Leyan miss.

But An Leyan reacted quickly, using his other hand to brace against the desk, pulling himself back from the verge of falling.

Then, he mouthed clearly at him—Turn off the mic. Let me see your wound.

Fu Shicang narrowed his eyes.

He had considered how Fu Xinghuai might test him—something simple, like Yinxin’s collision, to confirm his injury. But that wouldn’t be enough.

A proper test required someone who could capture photo or video evidence.

As long as his injury was confirmed, Fu Xinghuai would put him under suspicion.

And now, An Leyan was demanding exactly such an opportunity.

Someone who would probe so directly was either a fool or an expert.

He was hoping for the latter.

It had been a long time since he’d encountered a worthy opponent. The thought almost excited him.

Fu Shicang’s lips curled into a smirk. He cooperatively turned off his mic and took it off.

Then, he lifted the hem of his shirt.