Not only did the audience in the live stream hear these words, but the other three guests standing beside Xu You heard them too. The pleasantries that had been going on for a brief moment cut off cleanly, and everyone’s gaze followed Xu You’s, looking toward the exact same direction.

Two guests arrived late.

Strictly speaking, the two of them hadn’t actually broken any rules by being late. It was just that the guests whose phones had been confiscated had no way to pass the time. Therefore, after settling their luggage, they had simply headed out according to the program team’s upcoming itinerary. They ended up crossing paths halfway, leaving them with no choice but to walk over together in a slightly awkward companionship.

The age gap between the two groups of guests was large, and they had never met before. However, Cheng Shuohang was a veteran actor of twenty years and an old acquaintance of the screenwriter Duan Feiwen’s father, which provided a reasonably good opening icebreaker.

The program team’s security and confidentiality measures had been executed beautifully.

Until this very moment.

The four individuals who had met ahead of time finally unveiled the true faces of the final two guests.

The one who had the biggest reaction was Cheng Shuohang.

Having reached middle age, Cheng Shuohang—as an actor—had maintained himself very well in all aspects. His entire being exuded a mature, scholarly demeanor, looking as though he wouldn’t bat an eye even if Mount Tai collapsed before him. Yet upon catching sight of the junior who was currently clambering down from his partner’s back with clumsy movements, he couldn’t resist showing a look of profound surprise.

“Xiao Xie?”

Hearing this voice, Shi Linchuan turned his face slightly, only to find that Xie Jinghe beside him also bore a look of sudden astonishment on his face. While nodding politely, Xie Jinghe responded, “Teacher Cheng, it’s been a long time.”

As fellow actors, the two of them had once portrayed a pair of uncle and nephew in a certain historical political drama. Old acquaintances meeting old acquaintances would originally have been something to celebrate, but if the catalyst for this meeting was participating in the same divorce reality show…

Then it was a bit awkward.

They could hardly exchange pleasantries by saying, “What a coincidence, you’ve come to get a divorce too,” right?

Fortunately, with the six guests fully assembled for the first time, it was only proper to take turns introducing themselves. As the final group to arrive, Xie Jinghe finished his greetings and unconsciously reached out his hand, tugging at the sleeve of the cotton jacket of the man beside him to introduce him to the crowd: “This is my husband, Shi Linchuan.”

This was the very first time Shi Linchuan had heard Xie Jinghe address him this way. He couldn’t resist casting a sidelong glance at him, only to find that after finishing his sentence, Xie Jinghe gently pressed his lips together, his lips immediately curling upward.

It felt exactly like taking a massive bite of cantaloupe-flavored ice cream in the peak of midsummer.

An unmitigable delight that couldn’t be hidden.

Shi Linchuan found it amusing. It seemed that simply because he had bantered with him for a brief moment and carried him on his back for a few steps, this person had completely forgotten their previous unpleasantness, feeling heartfelt joy and attachment just from uttering this unique title in front of people.

Che.

Merely Xie Jinghe.

After chatting briefly for a few sentences, the program team began pushing forward with the next stage of the process.

The director stood behind the camera, projecting his voice: “All our guests have traveled far and are exhausted. The program team has specially prepared a sumptuous lunch for everyone. We hope that while enjoying the delicacies, you can also familiarize yourselves with your fellow guests.”

The crowd exchanged glances.

It appeared that this wasn’t going to be a simple meal.

However, this was also within everyone’s expectations. After all, they were filming a reality show; it was impossible to truly let the audience watch the guests eat in a plain and ordinary fashion. The program team would inevitably design multiple segments filled with dramatic highlights.

One could get a glimpse of this just by looking at the layout of the gathering area.

It was 12:00 PM sharp.

The sunlight penetrated the cloud layers with effortless ease, spilling over everyone’s bodies.

The place where the crowd assembled was a patch of flat open ground. The turf was dense yet withered and yellow. On one side was the small mountain forest road they had come from, while on the other side was a section of a cliff that looked as though it had been cleaved open by a massive axe—steep and vertical, with chain railings installed along the edge that looked rusted and weathered.

Right along the edge of the cliff grew a thick, robust old banyan tree, its roots exposed to the outside yet stubbornly tunneling into the stone blocks, displaying an immense vitality.

Behind the cliff was a shimmering, vast expanse of sea level.

The program team had already set out the tables and chairs ahead of time. Divided into groups of two, they were split across three tables. At the center of each table sat a call bell, flanked on both sides by a handwritten whiteboard and a black marker pen.

Once everyone took their seats, they saw the director behind the camera give a signal. Following this, professional chefs dressed in pure white chef uniforms entered the frame along with a large retinue of assistants. The cooking utensils and ingredients were rapidly positioned into place, presenting a picture of a live cooking show right in front of the guests.

The broadcasting director switched the camera angles at the opportune time.

In the video feed, the chef held cutlery to process the ingredients, his movements fluid and highly spectacular. Meanwhile, the iron griddle on the side had already begun searing the side dishes, the oils bursting and popping to release a sizzling sound, allowing the audience to sniff the fragrance of the food right through the screen.

At this moment, the director’s explanatory voice rang out.

“In order to let everyone better break the ice, as well as to conduct a random marriage questionnaire check between partners, the program team will pose questions before serving the dishes. Only the partners who answer correctly will obtain the dishes. Guests, please put in your best efforts to respond.”

Not only the guests, but the bullet comments section also reacted.

【Understood, it’s a test of mutual understanding, right? The answer counts as correct only if both write the exact same thing.】

【I was originally planning to exit the stream to grab a bite myself, but the program team had to pull this move? ‘A Bite of Divorce’, is it? Fine, fine, fine, you’d better ask some stimulating questions to help me down my food!】

【The takeout delivery in my hand instantly loses its aroma.】

【Let me see who doesn’t get to eat [Watching the drama unfold.jpg]】

The sunlight grew slightly warmer.

The wind had also ceased, leaving only a lingering tail to gently sweep across people’s faces.

Shi Linchuan and Xie Jinghe sat at the middle table, quietly gazing at the live cooking scene a few meters away, as well as the deep blue maritime area behind the culinary team. It had to be said—such a dining environment possessed a unique flavor.

Very soon, the first question was served to the tables.

The program team’s questioning progressed from simple to difficult. The first few rounds were entirely freebie questions, such as wedding dates, birthdays, and so on. All three groups of guests answered them with ease, and a few plates of food were placed on their respective tables. The portions were minuscule, clearly not enough to fill anyone up.

Outside the camera frame stood a crowd of spectating staff members. The director held up a small megaphone to announce the requirement: “Next, we request one person from the partners to write down the location of the two individuals’ very first meeting, along with the clothing worn at the time, onto the whiteboard. The other person will then describe it using verbal language—”

Hearing this question, Shi Linchuan’s movement of spinning his pen came to a halt.

“The first meeting.”

He didn’t believe Xie Jinghe could answer correctly. According to the settings of the book’s world, he and Xie Jinghe had a chance encounter in a welfare home during their childhood, but for him personally, the street corner from three years ago was the true place where he had first encountered the other party.

“Linchuan, do you want to write it or should I?”

While he was pondering, the person beside him shifted his chair to edge closer, whispering right by his face: “The chef made roasted short ribs, you like eating that. We must secure this dish—”

“Hey, hey, guests please do not whisper amongst yourselves!”

Xie Jinghe hadn’t finished his words before being caught red-handed and stopped by the director.

Shi Linchuan then watched as he resembled a student caught slacking off in class, lowering his head to shift his chair back to its original position. His eyes, however, remained glued to his body. Shi Linchuan said in a calm tone, “I’ll write, you speak.”

Yet an unexpected turn occurred anyway.

An unexpected turn occurred after all.

Shi Linchuan sat in the breeze, hearing the person beside him press the call bell. His voice was crisp and clear, and the actor’s delivery gave his articulation a highly rhythmic cadence as Xie Jinghe accurately reeled off a string of dates and locations. Next followed the highly business-like attire and grooming of the man at that time.

Before the director could announce the answer on the whiteboard, Shi Linchuan copied what the person beside him had done earlier—shifting his chair slightly closer to whisper in his ear, “Has your brain truly gone bad? Everything you said is completely wrong. The location of our first meeting was the welfare home; why did you mention that day?”

Hearing this, Xie Jinghe went blank for an instant.

Following that, his expression grew dazed, gradually turning into regret, bearing a distinct sense of beating himself up over it.

Shi Linchuan stared at his expression, then suddenly raised his hand, using his index finger and middle finger to forcefully pinch his nose, saying expressionlessly, “You’re just plain stupid to death.”

Xie Jinghe let himself be pinched with a bit of dejection, not daring to offer any resistance.

The director had incredibly sharp eyes, and the volume of the small megaphone in his hand was particularly loud as he reminded them once more: “Hey, hey, guests please do not bully other guests!”

Shi Linchuan let go of his hand with practiced ease, his face entirely filled with nonchalance. What kind of bullying was this? Even if he did bully him, so what?

Xie Jinghe brought it upon himself.

When the director asked the other three guests to reveal the handwritten answers on the whiteboards, Shi Linchuan calmly held up his completely blank board. At the same time, he turned his head to meet Xie Jinghe’s gaze, a highly frivolous smile surfacing on his face as he offered a very half-hearted “Sorry.”

“I forgot, so I didn’t write anything.”

Xie Jinghe stared at the man, his face written all over with skepticism.

In the next instant.

“It’s fine, I didn’t answer correctly either,” he pressed his lips together, saying with a bit of loss. “It’s just that the short ribs are gone, and you don’t like eating seafood again…”

Due to the geographical environment, the ingredients for this lunch consisted mostly of marine products and fresh seafood.

Shi Linchuan responded with absolute indifference: “Mhm, if there’s nothing to eat, how about I roast you to satisfy my hunger?” Saying this, he raised his hand again to pinch a chunk of flesh on Xie Jinghe’s right cheek. The force applied wasn’t small, leaving behind two crimson finger marks when he let go.

Xie Jinghe didn’t dodge. He merely covered his face after being pinched, protesting: “The director said guests shouldn’t bully guests.”

Shi Linchuan uttered an “Oh.”

However, his hand was raised once more, hovering in mid-air to form a pinching gesture, while he simultaneously asked in a calm tone: “Does the director’s word count, or does your husband’s word count?”

Xie Jinghe immediately pressed his left cheek beneath the man’s fingers, creating a symmetrical mark on both sides.

Once Shi Linchuan finished pinching him, he wrestled with his thoughts for a mere second before staring at the man’s serene, unreadable expression, confirming carefully: “Linchuan, you seem to be in quite a good mood right now?”

“Can you tell me why?”

He was somewhat unable to comprehend it, but just as he had stated previously, Xie Jinghe craved to understand his familiar yet unfamiliar lover.

Shi Linchuan merely glanced at him lightly.

The wind grew stronger.

The aroma of meat that made one’s mouth water drifted over along with the wind, assailing the nostrils with fragrance. The spices had undergone thorough searing and roasting, dispersing a unique flavor. Xie Jinghe was enveloped within the breeze, resembling a fresh lychee that had just been peeled open—juicy, crisp, and sweet.

For no reason at all, it made one want to take a bite to cleanse the palate.

Of course.

This didn’t mean he harbored any unspeakable good feelings or emotions akin to fondness toward Xie Jinghe, Shi Linchuan thought silently to himself.

It was just…

It was just…

Shi Linchuan glanced at him, unable to resist throwing out a line:

“You’re asking me, so who am I supposed to ask?”