Bai Mao ran two full laps before finally remembering—he could take off his blindfold.

“Jian Yang, are you crazy?”

Jian Yang tossed the water gun to the ground and hooked a low camping stool over with his foot. He sat down leisurely. “Your name is Bai Chenfeng.”

“What’s it to you? I swear, I’ll make sure this footage gets released. You bullied a colleague—you’re done for.”

“The game rules only say we can attack with water guns. They never specified who can attack who.” Jian Yang smiled. “Besides, look.”

The camera had already fallen to the ground.

“Aren’t you afraid of pissing off the director?”

“That’s my problem, not yours.”

Bai Mao’s arrogant energy started to fade. Jian Yang was two years younger than him, yet after enduring an entire day of bullying without reacting, he had waited until they were alone to settle the score.

Though, it didn’t even feel like settling a score.

It felt more like… he was just here to punish him.

Why the hell was he the one sitting down?

Bai Mao reached for a stool, but Jian Yang’s tone turned sharp. “Try sitting down and see what happens.”

Bai Mao’s brain: Who the hell do you think you are?

His body: …not moving.

Frozen in place, holding the stool, he awkwardly asked, “W-What do you want?”

“Bai Chenfeng.” Jian Yang pulled out his phone and made a call.

“Wow, calling me out of the blue?” Wei Wei’s voice came through the receiver.

“I heard you auditioned an actor named Bai Chenfeng and even put him on the shortlist?” Jian Yang asked.

Bai Mao’s heart leapt with excitement. He didn’t even know he had passed the first round of auditions.

Just as he was about to smile, Jian Yang’s gaze swept over him. Bai Mao’s hands trembled, and the stool slipped from his grasp. Panicked, he rushed over, half-kneeling, trying to snatch Jian Yang’s phone. But Jian Yang just looked at him.

“Hello? Hello?” Wei Wei asked from the other end. “Can you hear me? Yeah, he fits the role well—hello? Are you there?”

Bai Mao’s fingers hovered near the phone but hesitated every time he met Jian Yang’s stare.

“I was wrong,” Bai Mao whispered. “I know how hard it is to transition from idol to actor. I was wrong, Jian Yang.”

He clasped his hands together, bowing repeatedly in apology.

Jian Yang barely spared him a glance before continuing, “Drop him from the list.”

Wei Wei: “Huh? Why?”

“Because I don’t like him,” Jian Yang said without offering an explanation.

But Wei Wei knew Jian Yang well. Jian Yang never let personal feelings affect a project. If he said no, then even if they cast Bai Mao, he would become a liability later. Besides, Bai Mao wasn’t the best candidate anyway. “Alright. If you don’t like him, he’s out.”

“Cool. I’ll grab dinner with you after I finish this show.”

“Wow, so you’re filming a variety show and didn’t even tell me—”

Bai Mao collapsed onto the ground. His manager had a dozen idols under him, all meant to make a quick buck before being discarded. The entertainment industry was an endless cycle of fresh faces, and idols like him came and went in waves.

But he wanted a real career. Between his company’s demands, he had been taking acting classes, tirelessly auditioning.

And just like that—before he even got the official call—his opportunity was gone.

“I was wrong. I’m really sorry, Jian Yang. Please, I’ll team up with you! I’ll give you dirt on Jian Buqing, okay?” Bai Mao begged, clutching Jian Yang’s pant leg.

Jian Yang thought to himself: Wei Wei should be thanking me. If someone as two-faced and clueless as Bai Mao made it into the production, who knew what kind of trouble he’d stir up?

“I’ll do whatever you want.”

At this point, Jian Yang should’ve felt soft-hearted.

But then he thought of Su Jin—and Bai Mao’s sudden change in attitude disgusted him even more. “Tomorrow, go tell the director yourself that you’re dropping out.”

“But—the breach of contract fee is too high,” Bai Mao muttered in despair.

“Not my problem,” Jian Yang replied. “Unless… you don’t want your next acting gig either.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, even Jian Yang was startled.

His tone, his attitude—he sounded exactly like Guan Ciyan.

The old him would have thought twice, knowing how hard auditions were and feeling guilty about ruining someone else’s opportunity.

But now? His temper had grown. Bai Mao had provoked him repeatedly. And Su Jin was a good actor—giving him more exposure would genuinely help his career.

“You… you were the one backing Guan Ciyan all along, weren’t you?” Bai Mao suddenly realized.

“Why the hell does everything have to be about him?” Jian Yang snapped. Irritated, he stood up. “Do I have to be connected to Guan Ciyan? Get lost. We’re done here.”

Jian Buqing, worried about his team’s token, finally entered the tent—just in time to see Jian Yang walking out.

Already in a foul mood, Jian Yang shoved him aside. Jian Buqing stumbled to the ground.

Shocked, he gasped, “You—you dare push me?!”

“You’re done for!”

Jian Yang returned to his tent and sat there blankly for a while. He thought of Guan Ciyan—why did he see Guan Ciyan’s shadow in himself?

But it was true that he had secured a recording spot.

First, he called Su Jin. “There’s an opportunity to record the second half—do you want to join?”

Su Jin happily agreed. “Thank you, Jian Yang. Really, you didn’t have to go out of your way for me.”

Su Jin was always so considerate.

“Why don’t you just say Guan Ciyan helped you?”

“Even if Chairman Guan did help, it was only because of you. No matter who did the favor, I owe this to you.”

“Alright, pack up and come over tomorrow.”

After hanging up, Jian Yang called Jiang Ke. “Bai Chenfeng is out. Su Jin will take his spot.”

“Why did he leave?”

“Because I intimidated him a bit. No big deal. Have Dongdong pick up Su Jin tomorrow. Have you talked to the director?”

“Yeah, but he’s still playing hard to get, trying to squeeze some benefits out of it.”

“Tch, what kind of person… Alright, I got it.”

Jian Yang entered the director’s tent with an expressionless face, forcing a strained smile that looked even worse than if he hadn’t smiled at all. “Director, don’t you need to fill the vacant spot?”

“What spot?”

A voice came from outside the tent—Bai Chenfeng. “Director, may I come in?”

Jian Yang answered directly, “Come in.” Then he turned to the director, “Let him explain.”

Bai Chenfeng greeted Jian Yang first. Jian Yang, acting as if he owned the place, gestured, “Go ahead.”

The director had already been scolded by Jiang Ke earlier for mistreating her company’s artist. Jiang Ke had some influence back at Fuyu Sanctuary and had now joined Jian Yang’s company, showing an unusual level of concern. The director wasn’t sure about Jian Yang’s company’s background, especially since even Bai Shun had subtly warned him over the phone. So now, even though Jian Yang was acting all high and mighty in his tent, the director didn’t dare say anything.

Bai Chenfeng insisted on leaving, willing to pay the contract penalty. The director tried to persuade him, but Bai Chenfeng had already made up his mind.

“Director, just let him go. Forced things never turn out sweet.” Jian Yang’s tone was cold.

The director was sharp enough to notice the tension between them. He had no idea what Jian Yang did to Bai Chenfeng to make him so desperate to leave, but Bai Chenfeng wasn’t the type to endure being bullied easily. If he’d been pushed to this point, there had to be a good reason. So, the director agreed to let him go.

“Since Bai Chenfeng is leaving, wouldn’t Su Jin be a good replacement?” Jian Yang lightly pushed Su Jin’s resume forward with two fingers. “He’s going to be big.”

The director glanced at the resume but remained unmoved. “But I think pairing you with Jian Buqing would make for better entertainment.”

Jian Yang laughed. “Aren’t you afraid we’d end up with nothing to air after filming all day?”

“Just a blank screen, huh?”

Jian Yang laughed loudly, making the director a little uncomfortable.

“Su Jin can join, but I have one condition,” the director said.

“Let’s hear it.”

“Tomorrow’s segment—I want to make it a live broadcast.”

Jian Yang immediately realized that the director must have found out about him kicking the camera earlier.

Messing with Bai Chenfeng was one thing; the industry was full of situations like that. But kicking the camera? That crossed a line. If things went south, it could really mess up the show. If word got out, it would damage his chances of getting on other good programs in the future.

This time, he was actually in the wrong.

Jian Yang had no objections. A live broadcast would make everyone behave more cautiously—it was better that way.

Back in his tent, Jian Yang lay down in his sleeping bag. His calves were sore and trembling, his stomach ached from hunger.

So tired.

He just wanted to sleep.

After lying there for a while, he rolled over and unlocked his phone. Guan Ciyan had sent him two messages.

One asked how the recording was going.
The other asked if he had eaten.

Jian Yang stared at them, feeling nothing.

No wonder rich people don’t bother with relationships. After a day like this, even he didn’t want to think about it—too exhausting. Having to figure out someone else’s thoughts on top of it? No way.

【Not bad.】

【Tired. Sleeping now.】

Jian Yang sent two replies, then flipped his phone over and put it on silent.

The PD sneaked into his tent with two bread rolls. “Eat something. Breakfast might not be available tomorrow—the production team is still revising the schedule.”

Jian Yang didn’t hesitate, tearing open a roll and eating. “You should get some sleep too.”

“I want to, but I really want to know what you did to Bai Chenfeng. I heard he was wailing in his tent and kneeling in front of you, begging.”

“Cough cough cough!” Jian Yang nearly choked. “What the hell are you talking about?!”

“It’s true! I caught a glimpse too. Looked like he knelt down in front of you. You know our tents are semi-transparent, right?”

Shit.

Jian Yang had completely forgotten about that. He’d only thought about kicking the camera, not that the tent walls could cast shadows. Bai Chenfeng squatting beside him must’ve looked like he was kneeling.

Shit. There was no explaining this now. He’d gone viral.

Jian Yang: Might as well just die.

The PD finished his gossip and promised to clear things up—that Jian Yang hadn’t hit anyone or forced anyone to kneel.

The next morning, the live-stream setup was ready. Everyone woke up and went about their morning routines, all acting surprisingly harmonious.

Jian Yang figured it was just for the cameras, but at breakfast, when he was ushered to the main seat by the entire group, he started to realize—something was off.

Jian Buqing sat at the far end of the long table, with only plain porridge and pickled vegetables in front of him. Meanwhile, the dumplings, siu mai, and rice cakes were all placed in front of Jian Yang.

When Jian Yang stood up to get more porridge, everyone else immediately stood up with him.

Jian Yang, holding his empty bowl, froze. “Huh??”

Jian Buqing sneered sarcastically, “Eating that much?”

Since the cameras were rolling, that was all he dared to say.

But before Jian Yang could respond, someone defended him, saying, “Xiao Yang just has a naturally slim physique! So jealous~ I’ve already served you some food.”

Jian Yang: If this gets broadcasted, I’m really going to look like a workplace bully.

The following mini-games were equally harmonious—Jian Yang had somehow become the group favorite. No one mentioned Bai Chenfeng’s departure, and no one suggested pairing Jian Yang with Jian Buqing anymore.

Jian Yang felt out of place. It wasn’t until the production team announced that Su Jin was about to arrive that he finally perked up, volunteering to go down the mountain to meet him.

The director wasn’t feeling generous this time—he dropped Su Jin off at the base of the mountain and made him climb up. Jian Yang had no idea about this when he set out. In front of the live cameras, the production team handed him a mission card, leaving him no room to refuse.

Meanwhile, Guan Ciyan had been feeling uneasy for the past two days. Jian Yang used to at least update him on his whereabouts, but now he had completely disappeared—no calls, no replies to messages.

His personal assistant, terrified of Guan Ciyan’s mood, finally found salvation when they discovered that Jian Yang’s variety show had switched to a live broadcast.

Clutching their phone, they rushed to Guan Ciyan’s office—just in time to see a scene of Jian Yang and Su Jin, long-time friends reuniting, embracing each other affectionately.

Jian Yang had even sprinted a hundred meters with his arms wide open, taking the initiative to throw himself into Su Jin’s arms.