Hearing Bai Mao’s remark, Jian Buqing decisively chose him. After all, his dislike for Jian Yang seemed genuine, not just flattery.

With Jian Buqing and Bai Mao forming a team, the remaining five—Xu Ze, Jian Yang, and three others—had to continue the selection. As expected, Jian Yang ended up with no teammates.

According to the show’s arrangements, those with teammates could take the program’s vehicle to the campsite, while those left out had to take a car to the base of the mountain and hike up themselves.

Just as the departure time arrived, the director spotted another opportunity for drama.

“Contestants! Before we leave, we have one more game!” the director announced spontaneously. “I’m sure you’ve all played this before—musical chairs! Our car only has six seats. Anyone who fails to grab a seat will have to squat the whole way there. Be sure to help out your teammates!”

Six plastic stools were hastily arranged in a circle on an open patch of ground. They looked like they had been gathered last minute, making the director’s intentions obvious.

During the second round, everyone moved around the chairs to the sound of the music. Jian Yang locked onto a seat, but just as the whistle blew and he sat down, someone yanked the plastic stool away from behind. He landed hard on the ground, his tailbone stinging.

Bai Mao, grinning mischievously, held up the chair. “The game is called ‘musical chairs.’ No one said how we have to win.”

He then placed the chair down and flashed a smile at Jian Buqing. “Qing Qing, have a seat.”

Jian Buqing covered his mouth with his fingers. “Oh, how can I accept this?”

“Sorry, little brother,” he said sweetly.

“What’s wrong, Jian Yang?” Bai Mao taunted. “Can’t take a joke?”

Jian Yang patted off the dust and got up. “Not at all. Let’s all stick to the game rules from now on.”

A commercial bus slowly rolled in. It turned out there were more than six seats, but the director had counted the production director (PD) as a passenger to ensure there weren’t enough spots. Jian Yang falling on his backside had already given the first episode the comedic effect the director wanted.

Being ostracized wasn’t new to Jian Yang—he had experienced it in his past life too. He had already expected this.

He had deliberately distanced himself from Guan Ciyan. Even when Jiang Ke worked to get him opportunities, she had avoided using Guan Ciyan or Fu Yu Sheng Tang’s influence. Jian Yang didn’t want to rely on Guan Ciyan only to experience the bitter fall when the support disappeared.

Unfortunately, this also meant his PD had to suffer along with him. Since Jian Yang had no seat, his PD had none either.

Holding up the camera, the PD squatted beside him. Jian Yang grabbed an empty plastic bottle, placed it on the ground, and propped up the camera. “Here, stabilize it like this. Give yourself a break.”

“Thanks, man. My arms are killing me.” The PD chuckled. Then, lowering his voice, he whispered, “Don’t worry. I have connections in the editing team. I’ll make sure they leave in some good-looking shots of you. Fans will feel bad seeing a pretty boy land on his butt.”

Jian Yang burst into laughter.

“There, that’s it! Look out the window a bit, tilt your face towards me—perfect! You look great, great, great.”

With no seat, he had more freedom to move. The PD, seeing an opportunity, captured many flattering shots of Jian Yang. His outfit blended perfectly with the natural scenery, making him look like a woodland spirit. The PD was thrilled—just look at this masterpiece!

Jian Yang admired the PD’s optimism. It reminded him of himself in the past. “Sorry for making you suffer along with me.”

“This is nothing,” the PD replied casually. “As long as you let me film you properly, I’m grateful. You have no idea how difficult other stars can be—refusing to be filmed, setting weird restrictions, and when I finally get a good shot, their team gets it deleted. I get scolded when I return. But you and your brother… aren’t you real siblings? Why is he treating you like this?”

Jian Yang patted the PD’s shoulder. “Good brother, I won’t let you suffer too much.”

As soon as he got on the bus, Jian Yang messaged Jiang Ke, asking for detailed background information on all the show’s guests. He also informed her that Jian Buqing was part of the cast.

Jiang Ke was furious.

“I knew this director was ruthless, but his shows have high ratings. I didn’t think he’d go this far. I’m going to talk to him now.”

“No need,” Jian Yang replied. “I’ll handle it myself. But help me find out how Jian Buqing got into this show. Last time, I wanted to get Su Jin on, and you said they weren’t accepting more guests.”

“Got it.”

Jian Yang already knew the answer. He just wanted confirmation. This was easy for Jiang Ke—it was basically an internal investigation.

But this time, she didn’t respond quickly. That was answer enough. It was arranged by someone high up in Fu Yu Sheng Tang’s management.

Not wanting to make things difficult for Jiang Ke, Jian Yang called her directly.

“Jian Yang, I think there might be more to this. We can look into it further.”

“I know,” Jian Yang replied, gazing at the sunset outside. The scenery was breathtaking. “Thanks. But don’t tell Mr. Guan. Since Jian Buqing managed to get in through special connections, do you think we can also get Su Jin in?”

“I can try,” Jiang Ke said. She had been thinking about comforting Jian Yang, and sending his close friend over was the perfect solution. “If it’s possible, Su Jin will be here tomorrow morning.”

“I mean, can you do it without using Mr. Guan or Fu Yu Sheng Tang’s connections?”

Jiang Ke hesitated before answering, “I’ve been in this industry for ten years. I have some influence. But… Jian Yang, are you really not going to tell Chairman Guan? If he says one word, Jian Buqing wouldn’t dare act so arrogant.”

“Jiang Ke, do you think Mr. Guan’s words would be to keep Jian Buqing in check… or to keep me in check?”

Jiang Ke fell silent.

No one could predict the emotions of a powerful man like Guan Ciyan. She had once thought Jian Yang would become the second owner of Fu Yu Sheng Tang. But now, with Jian Buqing suddenly appearing and Guan Ciyan clearing obstacles for him, the situation was unpredictable.

Jian Yang and Jian Buqing even looked identical. What exactly was their relationship? No one dared to think too deeply about it.

“Jian Yang, I’ll find a way,” Jiang Ke finally said. “Don’t worry. No matter what gets filmed, I won’t let them air anything that harms you. Also, I’ve sent the guest background information to your email. I know you’re not the type to take a loss quietly. Take care of yourself and don’t worry about me.” Her voice turned sharp. “I’ve been through worse.”

Jian Yang chuckled and ended the call before opening his email.

What a coincidence—Bai Mao had just auditioned for Wei Wei’s new drama and was on the shortlist.

Two hours later, the bus arrived at the mountain base. Jian Yang and his PD were kicked off.

“Jian Yang… are we really walking up from here?”

“Looks like it…”

The production team dropped them off at a small trail entrance. While the main road led up the mountain, the trail was three kilometers shorter, but it was unpaved, with tree branches stretching across the path.

At six in the evening, the lingering heat of the day was at its peak. Jian Yang’s hoodie clung to his vest, making him feel even hotter. Sweat trickled down from behind his ears. Though his stamina had improved significantly, he was still slightly weaker than the average person, panting with flushed cheeks.

The PD had to carry the camera, his black t-shirt soaked with sweat. “This is the time when the spectrum density is at its peak—damn, the lighting is perfect! Jian Yang, walk ahead, and I’ll shoot a silhouette of you.”

“Huh? What density?”

“Never mind, just trust me! This light will only last for about ten minutes—everything looks stunning under it. Walk uphill, and when I call you, turn back toward the camera.”

“Alright.” Jian Yang’s exhaustion eased a little.

For the sake of a good shot, he was all in!

“Turn back!”

Jian Yang turned around, but a sharp tree branch scraped across his face, leaving a fresh wound. “Ah!”

Tears welled up from the pain.

Sweat seeped into the cut, making it sting like a needle prick.

“You okay? You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Jian Yang covered his face. “Did the shot turn out okay?”

“You’re way too dedicated.”

The PD showed him the playback. Surprisingly, the shot looked incredible.

The soft golden sunset cast a dreamy glow, slightly blurring the image. Jian Yang’s bright smile stood out even more. The sharp branch had left a thin cut on his fair skin, and a trace of blood oozed out. The rich colors in the frame made it look almost like a painting, while his tear-filled eyes added depth to the story.

“Wow, it actually looks kind of amazing,” Jian Yang said, still holding his face. “Ow.”

“This turned out even better than I expected—way better than your brother, honestly. To be real, the entertainment industry doesn’t have anyone with your vibe. Just wait till you blow up.” The PD’s praise was completely sincere.

The rough mountain trail became more bearable as the two chatted and laughed their way up.

By the time they reached the campsite, the sky was completely dark.

Nearby, a grill sizzled with leftover food, and the rich aroma of barbecue oil stirred their hunger. Both Jian Yang and the PD’s stomachs grumbled at the same time.

The production crew remained silent; they had already switched to fixed camera positions to record the scene of everyone gathering. Bai Mao sat in the center, strumming a guitar. When he saw Jian Yang, he smirked, “Running late, huh? Acting like a big shot.”

“Haha,” Jian Yang joked back. “I had to take two extra calls for work on the way up. Why don’t you walk down the mountain yourself and see if anyone even bothers to call you?”

“I have a car. Why would I walk?” Bai Mao sneered.

“Oh, so you do know that you rode up here while I had to walk?”

Now that the context was clear, the production team couldn’t edit it to twist the narrative.

Dinner, of course, was long gone. Jian Yang wasn’t going to humiliate himself by asking for food, so he jumped straight to the next segment.

The night’s activity was called “Guardian Angel.”

Each team had one member stay inside a tent to guard their team’s token. The others could attempt to retrieve the token, but if a teammate took it, they won. If someone from another team stole it, the teams had to be reshuffled.

The person inside was blindfolded and had to rely on footsteps to recognize their teammate. Their only weapon was a high-pressure water gun—if an intruder got sprayed for more than three seconds, they were automatically kicked out.

This challenge was designed as a cliffhanger for the first episode. Team-based shows thrived on drama—viewers loved watching rivals forced into the same team, or their favorite CPs having sweet moments.

Conflict, suspense, comedy, romance—the game had it all.

And it was clear who the production team was targeting.

As the only solo player, Jian Yang needed to steal a token to secure a team for himself. This would make the rest of the filming easier for him. It was also exactly what the director wanted—good television.

“The trust challenge begins!”

In the first round, no one knew who was inside which tent.

Xu Ze was the dumbest of the bunch. As soon as the game started, he randomly rushed into a tent.

“Ah—!”

A blast of water sent him stumbling out before he could even see who was inside.

The second person lingered at the tent entrance, carefully tapping the ground in a prearranged code. After peeking inside, they backed out without entering.

Jian Buqing, ever committed to his elegant image, naturally refused to rush in and risk getting drenched. Jian Yang didn’t expect to get any clues from his face—Jian Buqing was trained to be a decorative airhead, completely useless in these situations.

There were only three tents. Xu Ze and another contestant had both been sprayed out of theirs, meaning Bai Mao was inside one of the two remaining ones.

Jian Yang paced between them but didn’t enter.

Then, one tent suddenly erupted in cheers.

Jian Yang immediately yanked open the other one. Before Bai Mao could react, he slipped behind him and kicked him squarely behind the knee. Bai Mao collapsed onto all fours. Jian Yang grabbed the water gun and sprayed him from head to toe.

Bai Mao shrieked, scrambling around the tent.

Jian Yang followed, casually kicking aside the tent’s camera.

No big deal. His last role was a young warlord—if Bai Mao didn’t understand words, maybe he’d understand a few punches.