Chapter Text
The countryside rolled by in long, green stretches, dotted with the occasional crooked telephone pole or fading billboard. Inside the black van, Chi Cheng sat angled toward the window, his reflection cold in the glass. His phone screen lit his face, the faint glow highlighting the sharp line of his jaw.
He scrolled, expression unmoved, until the silence pressed too tightly.
“Seriously,” he said flatly, without looking up, “what am I doing on a variety show with idols and influencers?”
His manager glanced back from the passenger seat, lips curling into a helpless smile. “The CEO signed you up. She said it was good PR, and the audience loves seeing your real personality.”
Chi Cheng huffed out a sharp laugh, dry as dust. “There is no real personality to show.”
He really couldn’t figure out what his CEO was thinking.
He’d been in the industry for over two decades, debuting as a child actor and building a reputation that stood on its own. He didn’t need the exposure, and he certainly didn’t need to chase relevance on a variety show packed with idols half his age.
More than that, he didn’t like shows, especially not the kind that demanded charm on cue or false intimacy for audience appeal. He was private by nature and reserved. Off-camera, he kept to himself. On-camera, he delivered what the script asked. That was the boundary.
Variety shows blurred that line.
And after so many years in the spotlight, he’d grown tired of the people who only wanted to be around him when it benefitted them: the fake friendliness, the strategic relationships, the way admiration soured the second it stopped being useful. He’d seen too much of that, and he’d long since learned to keep his guard up.
The phone buzzed in his palm distracting him from his thoughts. Guo Chengyu’s name lit the screen.
Guo Chengyu:
How’s your new schedule, Ice Prince?
Variety shows now?
What’s next? Mukbangs?
Chi Cheng’s lips curved in irritation as his thumbs flew.
Chi Cheng:
Go film your weepy drama and leave me alone.
Another buzz came almost instantly.
Guo Chengyu:
Don’t get too friendly with the little idols.
They’ll start calling you gege.
Chi Cheng sighed and locked the phone with a snap, tossing it onto the seat beside him.
Exactly. That’s the problem.
He leaned back, crossing his arms. He was professional and detached — something he could do in his sleep. Still, he couldn’t shake the prickle at the thought of being trapped with strangers who thought noise equaled charm.
It’ll be fake, like everything else. Smile and give enough reactions for the cameras, leave when it’s over.
The van turned down a narrower road lined with persimmon trees. The set was close.
***
The countryside base opened up in front of them. There were low wooden buildings clustered around a central courtyard, where cameras stood at the ready. Crew members darted back and forth with clipboards, cables coiled around their shoulders.
Chi Cheng stepped out of the van, the morning air cool against his damp skin. Heads turned immediately.
“Chi Cheng-laoshi, thank you for coming.”
“Good morning.”
Bows followed him wherever he moved. He returned each with the same curt nod and small bow. It was distant, but never impolite. He’d perfected that balance years ago.
Two younger staff whispered as he passed.
“Wow… Chi Cheng looks even colder in person.”
“…But hot.”
He caught the words but let them slip past like wind. He was used to it.
The head PD came over, bright-eyed, schedule in hand. “Chi Cheng-laoshi, thank you again for joining our show. The format is quite simple. There’ll be paired missions, shared living, and a few bonding games. It’s very light-hearted. Just think of it as a countryside retreat.”
Chi Cheng tilted his head slightly. “Retreats don’t usually come with five cameras pointed at your face.”
His manager gave him a pointed look at that comment. Chi Cheng ignored it.
The PD laughed nervously. “Right, right. But just… relax. Be yourself.”
That’s exactly what I’m avoiding, he thought, but he only gave a noncommittal hum.
***
The squeal of brakes broke the calm. A van door slammed, and a voice rang out like a firecracker.
“Hello, everyone! I’m Wu Suo Wei from ZEAL! I’ll be in your care today!”
Every head turned. A young man who looked like he was barely out of his teens bounded out of the car. His cap slipped askew as he waved both arms enthusiastically after a deep 90-degree bow. His smile was wide enough to make the staff laugh outright.
His manager hurried after, patting his shoulder. “Tone it down, Xiao Wei. Save it for the camera.”
Suo Wei flushed pink. “Oops… sorry.” He ducked his head, tugging the cap low.
Then his eyes lifted and caught Chi Cheng standing just a few feet away. They lit up instantly, unmistakably bright.
Before he could wander off, the head PD waved him over. “Suo Wei, come here for a moment. Let me walk you through the format.”
Suo Wei jogged over, nodding eagerly. “Yes, sir!”
The PD gestured toward Chi Cheng. “We’re about to start filming the intro. You’ll be drawing names for your partner soon, but I wanted to give you a quick rundown first.”
Suo Wei turned to Chi Cheng, visibly trying to contain his excitement. He bowed low, voice spilling out too fast. “Hello, I’m Wu Suo Wei. I’m a big fan, and it’s an honor to work with you.”
Chi Cheng didn’t pause. He gave a short nod, voice clipped. “Mhm. Likewise.” And walked away.
Suo Wei straightened slowly, scratching his neck.
Maybe he’s just shy?
He forced a small smile as he turned around and started greeting the staff near him.
Across the courtyard, Chi Cheng’s gaze flicked back.
Another clout-chaser. But he’s got the looks, though– soft eyes and big smile. Definitely the kind that the public eats up.
***
The PD called out from behind the camera, pointing at the bowl set in front of the cast. His voice carried easily.
“We’ll start by drawing partners. Each pair will be working together on missions and sharing a room for the duration of filming. Who you draw will be your partner from here on out.”
A ripple of chatter spread through the group. Chi Cheng could feel the glances flicked his way. He didn’t need to look to know what they meant. Being paired with him meant extra attention, more screen time, and a boost by association. He’d seen it all before.
Names were drawn one by one, laughter breaking out as people reacted to their matches. A few of the younger idols stole another glance at him, clearly hoping their turn would align with his.
Finally, the bowl was passed into his hands. He reached in without hesitation, unfolding the paper with steady fingers.
“Wu Suo Wei…”
His jaw tightened a bit, expression unchanged. Of course.
Across from him, Suo Wei’s face lit up with open relief. He stepped forward, bowing politely, voice earnest but softer this time.
“I’ll be in your care.”
Chi Cheng replied with a curt nod as the younger moved to stand beside him.
Let’s just get through with this…
***
Their first challenge came minutes later: cook a countryside meal with the ingredients provided. They would be judged by the other cast and crew afterward.
Baskets of fresh vegetables, eggs, some protein, and basic seasonings were set on a table nearby.
Chi Cheng crossed his arms, scanning the options. “Simple enough,” he murmured, already bracing himself to carry most of the load.
Suo Wei leaned over the basket, eyes sparkling. “We could do stir-fried greens, grilled fish, maybe scrambled eggs? Keep it homestyle.”
Chi Cheng raised a brow. “You sound like you’ve planned this before.”
The younger laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not really. Just… I cook sometimes for my group. Someone has to, or we’d starve.”
Chi Cheng’s gaze flicked to the cameras, then back at him. He’s bluffing, he thought. Trying to look capable for variety points.
Aloud, he said, “Fine. If you’re confident, why don’t you handle the vegetables? I’ll take the grill.”
“Deal,” Suo Wei replied instantly, rolling up his sleeves. He picked up the knife with a practiced grip and began chopping, the steady rhythm of blade on board echoing through the courtyard. His movements were quick, neat, and almost mechanical.
Chi Cheng blinked once. He’d expected clumsy hands and nervous laughter, not precision.
“You’ve done this before,” he said slowly.
Suo Wei grinned without looking up. “Told you. Our youngest nearly burned the dorm down once from boiling ramen. I had to figure it out before we all starved.” He tossed the chopped vegetables into the pan with an easy flick of his wrist, humming softly as he stirred.
Chi Cheng turned back to the grill, though his eyes wandered back more than once.
Huh. He actually knows what he’s doing.
When the dishes were plated, the other cast members gathered to try them. Compliments followed one after another, genuinely impressed.
Chi Cheng glanced sideways at his partner, finding him already watching with flushed cheeks.
“I mean,” Suo Wei stammered, “I still burn eggs sometimes, but… no food poisoning today, right?”
Laughter rippled through the group.
Chi Cheng masked the twitch of a smile behind his chopsticks.
***
The countryside dimmed into twilight, cicadas filling the silence where chatter had been. The cast dispersed to their assigned lodgings.
Chi Cheng entered their room first with his luggage. The space was simple: wood beams, thin mattresses, two beds. He exhaled quietly at the sight. At least some things were tolerable.
The door creaked open. Suo Wei peeked in, hesitating before stepping inside. “Ah—sorry! Didn’t mean to interrupt.” His gaze darted to the beds. Relief spread across his face. “Two beds. Thank God,” he muttered, chuckling under his breath.
Chi Cheng arched a brow. “Were you expecting one?”
Suo Wei froze, ears reddening. “N-no, just… You know. These shows.” He laughed too loudly before scurrying into the bathroom with his toiletries.
Later, freshly showered, he perched on the edge of his bed, folding clothes with meticulous care. His eyes flicked to Chi Cheng again and again, mouth opening only to close again. Finally—
“So… do you, uh… usually cook?”
Chi Cheng didn’t look up from his phone. “When I have to.”
“Oh.” A moment passed. “I liked working with you today. You were fast on the grill.”
Chi Cheng’s brows twitched faintly. He said nothing, but his lips pressed together in something that wasn’t quite displeasure.
***
The lamps clicked off. The room sank into a dim quiet, broken only by the night’s insects.
From the other bed, Suo Wei’s voice came soft and tentative. “You’ve done these kinds of shows before, right? The missions… are they always this awkward at first?”
Chi Cheng shifted to his side, voice muffled. “Sometimes. Depends on the partner.”
A nervous chuckle could be heard from the younger. “Guess I better work hard so I’m not the worst one you’ve had.”
Silence. He expected the older man to dismiss him again.
But he kept talking, words slowing with sleep. “Today was fun. I didn’t think I’d survive cooking… Hope tomorrow’s not a bug mission… Chi Cheng-laoshi, you’re really cool in real life…”
The last syllables trailed off into breathing, even and soft.
Chi Cheng turned, eyes adjusting to the dim glow from the window. The boy across from him lay curled, mouth parted slightly, and hair falling into his eyes.
He fell asleep while talking?
“…Interesting.”
His gaze lingered for one unguarded moment. Then he turned back to the wall, closing his eyes. Sleep came slowly, but steadier than he expected.