After boarding the morning flight arranged by the production team, Tong Sui switched his phone to airplane mode, planning to sleep a little longer.
Over the past few days, Chi Xingyu had been feeling lost. Although he received a daily notification from the system about Kid’s livestream, he resisted the urge to check, thinking it would help him forget. But that was merely wishful thinking.
In his mind, he replayed Kid’s image countless times, from the droplets on his eyelashes to the colors on his knees, like a windmill spinning in his thoughts. But that morning, he discovered that the system hadn’t sent him a notification about the livestream.
Had he slept too late?
Minutes passed as Chi Xingyu opened his phone repeatedly, finding it still silent. After twenty minutes, his patience finally reached its limit, and he opened the livestream platform he had intentionally ignored for so long, clicking into Kid’s inactive livestream room.
Many viewers were also asking why the stream hadn’t started yet. A kind-hearted audience member reminded everyone that Kid had mentioned multiple times in the past few days that he would be recording “Heartbeat Rhythm,” so there would be fewer streams during this time.
Chi Xingyu furrowed his brow. Kid was participating in a show?
“Heartbeat Rhythm?”
What was that about?
He opened the search bar and typed in the show’s name, and when the results appeared, he froze in place.
A male-male romance variety show?
Kid was going on a dating show with someone else?
The mere thought of that possibility made Chi Xingyu’s blood run cold, overwhelming him with the agony he had endured over the past few days, making its way to his rationality.
No.
He couldn’t accept the thought of Kid liking someone else.
Chi Xingyu opened his chat with Kid; their last conversation was days ago when he had turned down Kid’s invitation. He now wished he could give his past self a stern talking to.
With trembling fingers, he pressed the voice call button, waiting through the torment of the ringing tone, but it never connected before he finally hung up.
He stared blankly at the “not yet connected” message on the screen.
He had thought he was close to Kid, able to chat and play games, even knowing he was in H City. But at that moment, he realized how wrong he was.
He couldn’t even recall Kid’s real name, didn’t know where he was, and was ignorant of his past.
The only thing Chi Xingyu knew now was that show, “Heartbeat Rhythm.”
He found the production company and recognized the familiar name, feeling a sense of relief as he looked for a specific contact in his list.
But before dialing, he hesitated.
Perhaps, in Kid’s heart, he was just a stranger from the internet, someone not worth mentioning. What right did he have to stop Kid from participating in a show?
Author’s note:
Chi: Now I regret it immensely.
After getting off the plane, Tong Sui spotted staff members holding a sign with his name at the exit—one man and one woman, with a camera perched on the man’s shoulder. Nearby, there were other cameras set up as well.
It seemed the show was about to begin.
With his luggage in tow, Tong Sui walked over.
“Hello.”
His voice drew everyone’s attention, landing on his delicate, fair face.
The staff momentarily held their breath.
His skin was flawless, his eyes bright and clean, and his thick, undyed black hair was fluffy and dense. Coupled with his tidy outfit, he exuded an endearing charm that was simply unoffendable.
Although they had reviewed each guest’s profile in advance, they hadn’t expected such a striking appearance from a civilian.
It looked like this season’s ratings were guaranteed.
Seeing that the staff, who were supposed to follow the designated process, were stunned, Tong Sui took the initiative to ask, “Shall we head to the small house now?”
All the guests would be spending this season in the small house, where the production team would arrange various activities and fixed segments to enhance fun and excitement.
Following the original script, during their time together, everyone inadvertently developed feelings for the main character, leading to intense competition as they vied to showcase their wealth, charm, and physique to win him over.
Because of this, the main character garnered much attention from advertisers after the show, successfully shedding his identity as a civilian and entering the entertainment industry.
“Yes, yes, but we still need to wait for one more person.”
As the staff spoke, they noticed a tall figure walking toward them.
Tong Sui turned to look as well.
The man wasn’t wearing the white coat but a simple white shirt and brown suit pants, exuding a refreshing and comfortable vibe.
Zhou Siyuan had that magical aura about him.
“Hello, I’m Zhou Siyuan.”
As he approached and saw Tong Sui, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes. “What a coincidence, we meet again. Is your wound still hurting?”
Wound? What wound?
The perceptive staff sensed a distinct vibe and quickly pointed the camera at Tong Sui. Could there be some romantic connection between the two?
However, Tong Sui replied openly, “Not at all; it felt fine after icing.”
Perhaps due to the camera presence and their striking looks, passersby began to pull out their phones to film.
Zhou Siyuan glanced at the growing crowd and said, “Let’s go, it’s not suitable to talk here.”
The two walked side by side out of the airport.
The production team had thoughtfully prepared a black van for them. Zhou Siyuan opened the trunk, placing his suitcase inside, then turned to Tong Sui and held out his hand, saying, “Hand it to me.”
He easily took over Tong Sui’s suitcase, and at the moment he lifted it, the subtle outline of his muscles beneath the white shirt became visible.