For three episodes, millions across the Eastern Federation had known Li Yichen through one face.
Abhay Raichand.
Cold.
Distant.
Dangerous.
Elegant.
A man who could make silence feel threatening.
A man whose smallest eye movement sent fans into chaos.
A man who looked at Piya as though loving her might destroy them both.
Then Mushroom House invited Li Yichen.
And the audience discovered a serious problem.
Abhay Raichand apparently knew how to cook.
Farm.
Play the flute.
Handle chickens.
Tease his friends.
Laugh like a perfectly ordinary twenty-four-year-old.
And, perhaps most shocking of all— smile.
Actually smile.
Not Abhay’s tiny, dangerous almost-smile.
A real one.
Warm.
Bright.
Sometimes mischievous.
By the end of the broadcast, millions would be asking the same question.
How was this man Abhay Raichand?
The Four Guests
Three days after Episode Three of Pyaar Kii Ye Ek Kahaani, four young actors gathered outside Confluence City’s northern transport terminal.
Li Yichen.
Ju Jingyi.
Kim Se-jeong.
Chen Zheyuan.
Or, according to their rapidly growing audience—
Abhay.
Piya.
Misha.
Kabir.
Shen Lihua stood before them holding a tablet.
“Remember.”
Yichen raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
“Don’t create trouble.”
Jingyi smiled.
Se-jeong immediately became interested.
Zheyuan looked between them.
“Why does Manager Shen need to say that?”
Yichen looked offended.
“She worries too much.”
Lihua replied calmly:
“I worry exactly enough.”
“What kind of trouble?” Se-jeong asked.
“Improvised trouble.”
Yichen stared.
“That is vague enough to be legally meaningless.”
Zheyuan burst out laughing.
Lihua sighed.
“Exactly.”
Yichen adjusted his travel bag.
“You see?
I’m being oppressed.”
Jingyi nodded seriously.
“Tragic.”
“We’ll document everything,” Se-jeong promised.
Yichen looked between them.
“You were supposed to support me.”
Zheyuan shook his head.
“We met you first.”
Yichen slowly turned toward him.
Zheyuan immediately stepped behind Se-jeong.
“Protection.”
She stared.
“Why me?”
“Because Misha is brave.”
“I’m not Misha.”
“Close enough.”
Even the nearby staff started laughing.
Lihua closed her tablet.
“Just come back without causing a production incident.”
Yichen smiled innocently.
“No promises.”
Her expression immediately worsened.
Leaving Confluence City
The bus contained several fixed cameras.
No glamorous entourage.
No assistants.
No carefully staged entrance.
Just four actors and a long road toward the countryside.
For the first nine minutes, everyone behaved.
Then Se-jeong leaned forward.
“Are we there yet?”
The driver laughed.
“No.”
Five minutes later—
“Now?”
“No.”
Zheyuan looked at her.
“You realize asking doesn’t shorten the distance.”
“I’m creating pressure.”
“On geography?”
“Yes.”
Jingyi laughed.
Yichen leaned against the window.
Confluence City gradually disappeared behind them.
Glass towers became smaller buildings.
Buildings became villages.
Villages became fields.
Green hills appeared in the distance.
Jingyi noticed his expression soften.
“You like the countryside?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Quiet.”
Se-jeong immediately turned.
“Remember saying that after they make us clean animal stalls.”
Yichen looked at her.
“I’ll survive.”
Zheyuan laughed.
“You always say things like that very casually.”
Yichen smiled.
“Optimism.”
“That didn’t sound like optimism.”
“Then excellent acting.”
Jingyi laughed.
“You’re not supposed to perform before we arrive.”
“I’m warming up.”
Welcome to Mushroom House
More than an hour later, the bus stopped beside a wooden sign.
MUSHROOM HOUSE
Below it—
WELCOME HOME
Se-jeong jumped down first.
“We survived!”
Zheyuan followed.
“We were sitting.”
“Survival is emotional.”
Jingyi laughed as she stepped down.
Yichen came last.
Vegetable fields stretched beside the farmhouse.
Fruit trees.
A pond.
A chicken coop.
An outdoor kitchen.
Low green hills.
Yichen looked around.
“Nice.”
A staff member behind the camera asked:
“That’s all?”
Yichen turned.
“What?”
“Most guests react more dramatically.”
Yichen immediately widened his eyes.
“OH!”
Jingyi closed her eyes.
“No.”
Yichen threw his arms outward.
“FIELDS!”
Se-jeong joined:
“CHICKENS!”
Zheyuan pointed upward.
“CLOUDS!”
“GREENERY!”
“SKY!”
The production crew started laughing.
Jingyi covered her face.
“We haven’t even entered.”
Yichen nodded.
“Strong beginning.”
Someone Was Waiting
The front door opened.
A young woman stepped outside carrying a basket of vegetables.
Simple clothes.
Hair tied back.
Relaxed smile.
Dilraba Dilmurat.
Yichen stopped.
For two seconds— he simply stared.
Dilraba looked perfectly calm.
Far too calm.
“Welcome.”
She greeted the others.
“Ju Jingyi.”
“Kim Se-jeong.”
“Chen Zheyuan.”
Then—
“Li Yichen.”
His eyebrow twitched.
Her lips curved slightly.
Yichen slowly asked:
“What are you doing here?”
Dilraba tilted her head.
“Standing.”
He stared.
She smiled.
“I’m a permanent member.”
Silence.
“Since when?”
“Three weeks.”
“You knew I was coming?”
“Maybe.”
“And didn’t tell me?”
“You didn’t ask.”
Jingyi turned away, shoulders shaking.
Se-jeong whispered to Zheyuan:
“They know each other.”
Zheyuan whispered back:
“I think we’ve established that.”
Yichen exhaled.
“Dilraba.”
She smiled sweetly.
“Yichen.”
There was an effortless familiarity in the way she said his name.
The cameras caught it immediately.
Yichen looked toward the production crew.
“You people planned this.”
Nobody answered.
Dilraba’s smile widened.
“Welcome to Mushroom House.”
He stared at her.
“I’m going home.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Watch me.”
“Your bag is already inside.”
Yichen froze.
Dilraba walked away.
Jingyi finally burst out laughing.
He Jiong and Huang Lei
Two more permanent members appeared.
Veteran host He Jiong, warm and effortlessly conversational.
And actor-chef Huang Lei, whose relaxed expression usually concealed the fact that he noticed everything.
He Jiong shook Yichen’s hand.
“So you’re Abhay Raichand.”
Yichen smiled.
“On working days.”
“Only working days?”
“After the director says action.”
Huang Lei studied him.
“You’re quite different outside filming.”
Dilraba answered:
“Very.”
Yichen slowly turned.
“Why do you keep answering for me?”
“Efficiency.”
He Jiong laughed.
Huang Lei asked:
“You two have known each other long?”
“Since childhood,” Dilraba replied.
Yichen sighed.
“Unfortunately.”
She stared.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing.”
“Say it again.”
“I value peace.”
Huang Lei laughed.
“You don’t seem very peaceful around her.”
Yichen nodded toward Dilraba.
“Observe the environmental factors.”
Even Dilraba laughed.
Work Before Food
Bags went inside.
Se-jeong looked hopefully toward the dining table.
“Lunch?”
Huang Lei nodded.
“Of course.”
She brightened.
“After you collect the ingredients.”
Her smile vanished.
He pointed.
“Vegetables.”
“Eggs.”
“Firewood.”
“Cleaning.”
Zheyuan sighed.
“So hospitality here is theoretical.”
He Jiong patted his shoulder.
“You’ll appreciate food more.”
Yichen rolled his sleeves up.
“What first?”
“Vegetables.”
“I’ll go.”
Jingyi stepped forward.
“I’ll help.”
Zheyuan took firewood.
Then everyone looked at Se-jeong.
She slowly looked toward the chicken coop.
“No.”
Dilraba smiled.
“Eggs.”
“No.”
“You’re brave.”
“That’s manipulation.”
“Effective manipulation.”
Yichen laughed.
“Good luck.”
Se-jeong pointed at him.
“If one attacks me—”
“It’s a chicken.”
“Exactly.”
Yichen considered.
“Run.”
“You’re useless.”
“Excellent survival advice.”
The Vegetable Field
Jingyi expected Yichen to be awkward.
He wasn’t.
He crouched beside a row and examined the vegetables.
When Jingyi reached toward one—
“Not that.”
She stopped.
“Why?”
“Too young.”
“You can tell?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Yichen stared at the plant.
“Because it looks young.”
Jingyi stared at him.
He smiled.
Then pointed properly.
“Leaf size.”
“Color.”
“Stem.”
“Look here.”
She crouched beside him.
“Oh.”
He showed her another.
“This one.”
She harvested it.
“Better?”
“Perfect.”
Jingyi looked suspicious.
“Why do you know this?”
“I like learning practical things.”
“That’s very broad.”
“It’s also true.”
She laughed.
“Convenient.”
“Convenience is underrated.”
They continued down the row.
Soon both had dirt on their hands.
Jingyi looked at hers.
Then at him.
“You don’t care?”
“About dirt?”
“Yes.”
“It washes off.”
She smiled.
“Sometimes you give very simple answers.”
“Simple questions deserve respect too.”
“Was that profound?”
“Extremely.”
“No.”
Yichen sighed.
“Nobody appreciates me.”
Jingyi laughed.
The Chicken Crisis
Elsewhere—
Se-jeong stood before the coop.
The chickens stared.
She stared back.
Dilraba stood behind her.
“Go.”
“No.”
“It’s a chicken.”
“It knows.”
“What?”
“Fear.”
Dilraba started laughing.
Se-jeong opened the gate.
A chicken moved.
She screamed.
The chicken flapped.
She screamed louder.
Across the field, Yichen looked up.
Jingyi said without turning:
“Chicken.”
He nodded.
“Understandable.”
Three minutes later—
“YICHEN!”
Se-jeong came running.
A chicken followed.
She hid behind him.
Yichen stared at the bird.
The bird stared back.
Zheyuan had returned with firewood.
He stopped.
Dilraba arrived laughing so hard she could barely breathe.
Yichen crouched.
Extended one hand.
Made a quiet sound.
The chicken stopped.
Tilted its head.
Then approached.
Yichen gently picked it up.
Silence.
Se-jeong stared.
Jingyi stared.
Zheyuan stared.
Dilraba crossed her arms.
Of course.
He Jiong shouted from the house:
“What happened?”
Se-jeong pointed.
“He negotiated with it!”
Yichen looked offended.
“I did not negotiate.”
Zheyuan nodded solemnly.
“Correct.”
Yichen looked at him.
“He won.”
Everyone burst out laughing.
Across the Eastern Federation
When the scene aired, Sangam Federal University’s Room 407 exploded.
Meera Kapoor pointed at the television.
“THAT IS ABHAY?”
Sara Qureshi was already laughing.
Aiko Nakamura adjusted her glasses.
“The vampire can farm.”
Lin Xiaoyu stared.
“He smiled more in twenty minutes than in three episodes.”
Park So-min nodded thoughtfully.
“That actually makes Abhay more impressive.”
Everyone looked at her.
“If Yichen naturally behaves like this…”
She pointed toward the screen.
“…then Abhay is completely constructed.”
The laughter quieted.
Because— yes.
Then Se-jeong yelled from the television:
“IT CHASED ME WITH INTENT!”
Yichen replied:
“All walking contains intent.”
Room 407 collapsed again.
In the boys’ hostel, Rohan stared.
“He’s actually funny.”
Haruto leaned forward.
“And relaxed.”
Rohan frowned.
“I thought Abhay’s posture was just his posture.”
“No.”
Haruto pointed.
“Look at his shoulders.”
On-screen Yichen was relaxed.
Loose.
Open.
Nothing like Abhay.
Rohan stared.
“So he changes everything?”
Haruto nodded.
“That’s acting.”
Rohan became thoughtful.
Then Sameer ruined the moment.
“The chicken still won.”
Everyone laughed.
Cooking
Huang Lei handed Yichen a knife.
“Can you cook?”
Yichen nodded.
“A little.”
Dilraba snorted.
Yichen turned.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Huang Lei noticed.
“Not a little?”
Yichen sighed.
“I can cook.”
“Show me.”
Yichen entered the kitchen.
Rice.
Eggs.
Vegetables.
Chicken.
Fresh herbs.
Spices.
He organized everything quickly.
Then started chopping.
Zheyuan stared.
“Why do you hold the knife like it personally offended you?”
Yichen didn’t look up.
“Would you prefer uneven vegetables?”
“No.”
“Then respect the knife.”
Zheyuan nodded solemnly.
“Yes, chef.”
Jingyi tried beside him.
Her pieces were— creative.
Yichen looked.
She immediately pointed at him.
“Don’t.”
“I said nothing.”
“Your face did.”
“I have an expressive face.”
“Apparently.”
Dilraba walked past.
“He’s worse when he’s trying not to criticize.”
Yichen turned.
“Why are you still here?”
“I live here.”
“Tragic.”
She smiled.
“You’re angry.”
“I’m peaceful.”
“You look peaceful.”
Huang Lei tasted Yichen’s soup.
Paused.
Tasted again.
Added nothing.
“Was that approval?”
Jingyi whispered:
“I think so.”
Yichen looked at them.
“I’m standing here.”
Zheyuan nodded.
“Yes, chef.”
Childhood Friends
Lunch began.
Se-jeong took one bite.
Her eyes widened.
“Oh.”
Zheyuan tried it.
Then stared at Yichen.
“This is unfair.”
“What?”
“You act.”
“Yes.”
“You cook.”
“Apparently.”
“You know farming.”
“Basic.”
“You control chickens.”
“I reject this accusation.”
Jingyi laughed.
Dilraba calmly continued eating.
Then said:
“He plays flute.”
Yichen froze.
Everyone turned.
He slowly looked toward her.
“Dilraba.”
She continued eating.
“What?”
He Jiong grinned.
“Really?”
“Somewhat.”
Dilraba raised an eyebrow.
“Somewhat?”
Yichen stared.
She smiled.
Huang Lei asked:
“How long have you two known each other?”
“Since we were children,” Dilraba answered.
“Unfortunately,” Yichen added.
She turned.
“You cried when I left for school once.”
“I was a child.”
“So was I.”
“You stole my sweets.”
“You abandoned them.”
“They were on my table!”
“Poor security.”
“That doesn’t make theft legal.”
Yichen shrugged.
“We remember history differently.”
The table erupted.
Jingyi watched them with amusement.
There was no hesitation between Yichen and Dilraba.
No careful politeness.
No need to create chemistry.
They simply— had it.
The comfortable kind built by years.
The Flute
After lunch, Se-jeong spotted a flute among the program instruments.
Her eyes immediately found Yichen.
“No.”
She blinked.
“I haven’t asked.”
“I know.”
“Play.”
“No.”
Jingyi smiled.
“You’ve already been exposed.”
Zheyuan nodded.
“Resistance is meaningless.”
Dilraba looked extremely pleased.
“One piece,” He Jiong requested.
Yichen sighed.
“Fine.”
He sat beneath a tree.
The afternoon wind moved gently through the leaves.
He raised the flute.
And played.
The first note was soft.
Conversation disappeared.
Dilraba’s teasing expression softened.
Jingyi became completely still.
Se-jeong stopped smiling.
Zheyuan looked toward the fields.
Even the crew quieted.
Yichen didn’t play like someone trying to impress an audience.
The melody was gentle.
Warm.
Almost intimate.
It moved between familiar musical traditions without feeling deliberately constructed.
For several minutes—
Mushroom House stopped feeling like television.
No jokes.
No performances.
No competition for screen time.
Just music.
When the final note faded— nobody immediately spoke.
He Jiong inhaled.
“That…”
Huang Lei raised one hand.
“Don’t.”
He Jiong looked at him.
Huang Lei smiled.
“Give it a moment.”
So they did.
Eventually Se-jeong whispered:
“Can you play that every night?”
Yichen smiled.
“Expensive.”
“You charged coffee before.”
“Inflation.”
Everyone laughed.
The Flute Goes Viral
The clip spread everywhere.
Students played it while studying.
Office workers used it during breaks.
Parents forwarded it.
Older viewers replayed it.
People who had never watched the drama began asking:
Who is he?
Li Yichen.
The actor playing Abhay Raichand.
The vampire?
Yes.
THAT’S HIM?
At Savitri Mehra’s home, Rhea turned toward her grandmother.
Savitri remained silent until the performance ended.
Then:
“He understands patience.”
Rhea smiled.
“You like him.”
“I respect him.”
Which, from Savitri— was considerable progress.
Professor Liang Guowei adjusted his glasses.
His wife sighed.
“What are you analyzing?”
“Nothing.”
“You’ve been staring at the television.”
“I’m listening.”
“That’s called enjoying music.”
Liang frowned.
“I know.”
She smiled.
Progress.
Something Dilraba Did Not Like
After the flute performance, the house slowly returned to activity.
Dilraba sat beneath the porch shade peeling an orange.
Her eyes wandered toward the vegetable garden.
Yichen was there.
So was Jingyi.
They were talking.
Jingyi laughed.
Yichen said something else.
She laughed again.
Dilraba stopped peeling.
Nothing unusual.
They were co-stars.
They worked together every day.
Of course they talked.
Then Yichen reached over and took half the vegetables from Jingyi’s basket.
Jingyi protested.
He ignored her.
They continued walking.
Dilraba’s fingers tightened slightly.
Se-jeong sat beside her.
Dilraba didn’t notice.
Se-jeong followed her gaze.
Yichen.
Jingyi.
Dilraba.
A dangerous smile appeared.
“What?”
Dilraba finally noticed.
“Nothing.”
Se-jeong nodded.
“Of course.”
Dilraba frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“You said it suspiciously.”
“I said one word.”
“You said it with intent.”
Se-jeong grinned.
“All talking contains intent.”
Dilraba stared.
Then laughed despite herself.
“You’ve been spending too much time with Yichen.”
“Maybe.”
They looked again.
Jingyi stepped over uneven ground.
Her foot slipped.
Yichen caught her lightly by the elbow.
Barely a second.
She straightened.
He released her.
They kept walking.
Dilraba accidentally tore the orange peel in half.
Se-jeong looked down.
Then up.
“Oh.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Stop saying nothing.”
Se-jeong leaned closer.
“Are you jealous?”
Dilraba almost laughed.
“Of what?”
Se-jeong nodded toward them.
“No.”
Too fast.
Se-jeong smiled.
Dilraba immediately added:
“They’re co-stars.”
“Yes.”
“They’re friends.”
“Yes.”
“That’s normal.”
“Very normal.”
Dilraba slowly turned.
“Why are you agreeing like that?”
Se-jeong looked innocent.
“Like what?”
Dilraba stared.
Then shoved an orange segment into her mouth.
“You’re annoying.”
Se-jeong grinned.
Respect Is More Dangerous
Jingyi returned shortly afterward.
Yichen placed his half of the basket down.
“Thanks,” Jingyi said.
“You were carrying too much.”
“I could handle it.”
“I know.”
She paused.
Yichen shrugged.
“Being able to do something doesn’t mean you always need to do it alone.”
Jingyi stared.
Then smiled.
“Do you rehearse these lines?”
Yichen looked offended.
“I’m naturally profound.”
“No.”
“Rude.”
“Accurate.”
He smiled.
“You’ve been learning from Dilraba.”
From the porch—
Dilraba’s eyebrow twitched.
Yichen walked away.
Jingyi sat opposite Dilraba.
Dilraba handed her an orange segment.
“Thanks.”
Jingyi looked toward the kitchen.
“Yichen is really different from what I expected.”
Dilraba’s hand paused.
“Different how?”
“When I first met him, I thought he’d be difficult.”
Dilraba laughed.
“He is.”
“Not like that.”
Jingyi smiled.
“He doesn’t make people feel small.”
That made Dilraba quieter.
“Even when he’s obviously better at something.”
Jingyi continued:
“When he gives me acting suggestions, he never tells me to imitate him.”
“He keeps asking what Piya wants until I find the answer.”
Dilraba nodded.
“That sounds like him.”
“I understand why everyone gets comfortable around him.”
There was something in Jingyi’s voice.
Admiration.
Nothing more.
Perhaps.
But Dilraba knew attraction could begin with appearance.
Curiosity could begin with mystery.
Respect— respect could become something deeper.
Jingyi looked toward Yichen.
And smiled.
Small.
Unconscious.
Dilraba saw it.
For years, Yichen had simply been—
Yichen.
Annoying.
Mischievous.
Protective.
Stubborn.
Someone she could call whenever she wanted.
Someone whose silences she understood.
Someone whose smile she could distinguish from the fake ones.
She had never considered what it might feel like if another woman began understanding those things too.
Now she did.
And she didn’t like the feeling.
Snack Warfare
Yichen returned carrying a plate.
“Try this.”
Jingyi took one.
Dilraba took one too.
“Well?” Yichen asked.
Jingyi smiled.
“Very good.”
He looked toward Dilraba.
“And?”
She chewed slowly.
“Acceptable.”
Yichen stared.
“Acceptable?”
“I’ve had better.”
“Liar.”
“Prove it.”
He pointed downward.
“You ate three.”
Dilraba looked.
Three empty wrappers.
Silence.
Jingyi burst out laughing.
Se-jeong covered her face.
Yichen smiled victoriously.
“There.”
Dilraba took another.
“Still acceptable.”
“Hopeless.”
He walked away.
Jingyi watched him go.
Then said quietly:
“He really doesn’t behave like someone who’s suddenly becoming famous.”
Dilraba looked toward her.
“No.”
Her expression softened.
“He doesn’t.”
Jingyi smiled.
“I like that.”
Dilraba’s hand stopped.
Se-jeong suddenly found the clouds fascinating.
Dilraba asked casually:
“You like what?”
Jingyi blinked.
“His personality.”
Then realized how it sounded.
Her cheeks warmed slightly.
“I mean—he’s easy to work with.”
Dilraba smiled.
“I know what you meant.”
Jingyi relaxed.
Dilraba didn’t.
The Real Yichen
Throughout the afternoon, the cameras noticed something.
Yichen wasn’t constantly trying to entertain everyone.
He didn’t dominate conversation.
Didn’t manufacture moments.
Didn’t fight for attention.
When Se-jeong became tired, he quietly placed water beside her.
When Zheyuan worried a joke had gone too far, Yichen changed the conversation naturally.
When Jingyi struggled with a basket, he simply took half.
When He Jiong started cleaning alone, Yichen joined him.
When a crew assistant dropped equipment, Yichen helped pick it up before continuing his conversation.
Huang Lei watched from the porch.
“Interesting.”
He Jiong looked over.
“What?”
“Yichen.”
He Jiong smiled.
“He doesn’t fight for the room.”
“No.”
Huang Lei watched Yichen listening while Zheyuan told a story.
“He doesn’t fill silence either.”
He Jiong nodded.
“He makes it comfortable.”
Huang Lei smiled.
“That’s rare.”
Abhay Versus Yichen
The editors couldn’t resist.
Split screen.
ABHAY RAICHAND
Cold stare.
Dark clothes.
Controlled breathing.
“Go away.”
“I am fire.”
Then—
LI YICHEN
Covered in dirt.
Holding a chicken.
Cooking.
Laughing.
Playing flute.
Being bullied by Dilraba.
Caption:
SAME PERSON?
The internet lost control.
Ayaan Verma stared at the television.
“No.”
His older brother laughed.
“What?”
“Abhay doesn’t exist.”
“Correct.”
“No, I mean…”
Ayaan pointed.
“That’s acting.”
His brother nodded.
“Congratulations.”
Ayaan ignored him.
For the first time, he understood just how much of Abhay had been created rather than inherited from Yichen’s natural personality.
Retired stage actor Kenji Watanabe smiled.
Miyu asked:
“Why are you happy?”
“Reference.”
“What?”
“Now viewers have one.”
He pointed toward Yichen laughing.
“The farther an actor’s natural emotional rhythm is from the character…”
“…the more visible the construction becomes.”
Miyu smiled.
“So you’re a fan.”
“I am observing.”
“Naturally.”
Game Time
He Jiong announced teams.
Dilraba immediately said:
“Yichen.”
He looked suspicious.
“Why?”
“Easy points.”
“Arrogant.”
“Accurate.”
First card:
Peacock.
Dilraba looked at it.
Then at him.
“Bird.”
“Broad.”
“Beautiful.”
“Still broad.”
“Proud.”
Yichen stared.
“You’re describing yourself.”
Everyone laughed.
“Colorful feathers.”
“Peacock.”
Correct.
Second:
Flute.
“You play it.”
“Flute.”
Everyone screamed.
“CHEATING!”
Dilraba looked innocent.
“I described it.”
Third:
Troublemaker.
Dilraba read the card.
Then slowly looked at Yichen.
He immediately answered:
“Me.”
The entire set exploded.
He Jiong slapped the table.
“She didn’t say anything!”
“Her face did.”
Dilraba was laughing too hard to answer.
Another Side of Him
Jingyi watched the two childhood friends.
She had seen Yichen professional.
Focused.
Patient.
Demanding during rehearsals.
Warm with the cast.
But around Dilraba— he became younger.
He argued.
Complained.
Retaliated.
Sometimes even sulked.
Se-jeong whispered:
“You didn’t know this side?”
Jingyi shook her head.
“No.”
Zheyuan passed them.
“I did.”
Both turned.
“I knew he was annoying.”
From across the yard—
“Zheyuan.”
He froze.
Then ran.
Yichen chased him.
Se-jeong shouted:
“RUN, KABIR!”
Jingyi laughed until she had to sit down.
Dilraba calmly drank tea.
“He’ll catch him.”
Huang Lei asked:
“How do you know?”
Dilraba smiled.
“I know Yichen.”
Then she glanced toward Jingyi.
For some reason— those three words suddenly mattered more than before.
A Question Dilraba Regretted
Before dinner, Dilraba found Yichen washing his hands near the water pump.
“Yichen.”
He looked over.
“What?”
She hesitated.
He blinked.
“What?”
“As an actress.”
His eyes narrowed.
“As an actress?”
“Yes.”
“What else would you mean?”
“Nothing.”
Yichen stared.
Then slowly smiled.
Dilraba immediately became suspicious.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t.”
“You sound jealous.”
She froze.
Then laughed.
Too quickly.
“Jealous?”
“Interesting.”
“Of Jingyi?”
“Apparently.”
Dilraba stepped closer.
“Li Yichen.”
“Yes?”
“Your imagination has become excessive.”
“So that’s a no?”
“Obviously.”
“Good.”
She paused.
Good?
Before she could ask—
Yichen continued:
“Because if you’re jealous now, imagine what happens when Abhay and Piya’s romantic scenes increase.”
Dilraba stared.
He laughed.
She grabbed the nearest towel and threw it.
He caught it.
“Violence.”
“Keep talking.”
“I value my life.”
“Then stop smiling.”
“Impossible.”
She walked away.
Yichen watched her.
Then shook his head.
Dilraba?
Jealous?
Impossible.
They had known each other nearly their entire lives.
She was probably just irritated.
Yes.
Clearly.
He returned to the kitchen.
Behind the doorway—
Se-jeong slowly stepped backward.
Zheyuan appeared.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
He looked toward Dilraba.
Then Yichen.
Then her.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
Zheyuan narrowed his eyes.
“That word means something every time you say it.”
Se-jeong patted his shoulder.
“You’re learning.”
Why Acting?
Dinner came beneath a golden evening sky.
He Jiong eventually asked:
“Yichen.”
“Hm?”
“Why acting?”
Yichen became thoughtful.
“Because I wanted to understand lives I would never live.”
The table quieted.
“Everyone gets one perspective.”
“One set of experiences.”
“But acting lets you borrow someone else’s heart for a while.”
Jingyi watched him.
“If you do it properly, you have to understand why someone became who they are.”
“Why they’re afraid.”
“Why they’re cruel.”
“Why they love.”
“Why they fail.”
“Why they keep trying.”
He smiled.
“I thought that was beautiful.”
Huang Lei asked:
“Was choosing acting difficult?”
Yichen paused.
“Yes.”
He Jiong asked gently:
“People around you disagreed?”
“Some.”
“And you still came?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Yichen thought.
“Because disagreement doesn’t always mean lack of love.”
Dilraba became quiet.
“Sometimes people imagine a future for you.”
“When you choose another…”
“…they need time to understand.”
He smiled faintly.
“And sometimes you need time to understand them too.”
He Jiong nodded.
“Do you regret choosing it?”
Yichen looked around Mushroom House.
At Jingyi.
Se-jeong.
Zheyuan.
Dilraba.
Then smiled.
“No.”
Somewhere Else, A Father Watches
At Vardhan Mansion, the television continued playing.
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Yuerou’s eyes were wet.
Ananya hugged her cushion.
Rudraveer watched Aditya.
Aditya watched only the screen.
His son looked happy.
Not rebellious.
Not triumphant.
Happy.
Rudraveer finally asked:
“Well?”
Aditya remained silent.
Then:
“He fits there.”
Yuerou looked toward him.
Aditya continued quietly:
“Better than I expected.”
Nobody teased him.
Some victories were too small— and too important— to disturb.
Harmless Childhood Crimes
Later, He Jiong turned toward Dilraba.
“What was Yichen like as a child?”
Yichen immediately said:
“Next question.”
Se-jeong slapped the table.
“No!”
Zheyuan leaned forward.
“Critical information.”
Jingyi smiled.
Dilraba thought.
“Annoying.”
“Subjective.”
“Competitive.”
“Fair.”
“Too serious about games.”
“Commitment.”
“Stole snacks.”
“Borrowed.”
“Without permission.”
“Details.”
Everyone laughed.
Then Dilraba added:
“Protective.”
Yichen became quieter.
He Jiong asked:
“How protective?”
Dilraba smiled at the memory.
“One boy kept hiding my lunchbox.”
Yichen sighed.
“Oh no.”
“Yichen found out.”
Se-jeong leaned forward.
“And?”
“He convinced everyone in our group not to share snacks with that boy for two days.”
Silence.
Huang Lei stared.
Then burst out laughing.
“You imposed economic sanctions?”
Yichen covered his face.
“I was a child.”
Zheyuan laughed.
“You weaponized lunch.”
“It worked.”
Dilraba was nearly crying.
“The lunchbox came back.”
Yichen pointed at her.
“Exactly.”
He Jiong laughed.
“That’s not the defense you think it is.”
Under the Stars
Late at night, the younger actors sat outside.
No games.
No planned conversation.
Just cool air and stars.
Nobody spoke for nearly a minute.
The program didn’t cut it.
Because the silence felt comfortable.
Eventually Se-jeong asked:
“Yichen.”
“Hm?”
“Do you ever get nervous?”
“Yes.”
She turned.
“Really?”
“Obviously.”
“You don’t look nervous.”
“Looking calm and being calm aren’t always the same.”
Jingyi asked:
“What do you do?”
“Breathe.”
Zheyuan laughed.
“Revolutionary.”
“You asked?”
“No.”
“Then breathe.”
Everyone laughed.
Se-jeong asked:
“What helps when you’re tired?”
Yichen thought.
“Music.”
“Quiet.”
“Food.”
He paused.
“People who don’t require you to explain yourself.”
Dilraba looked toward him.
She didn’t tease.
She simply smiled.
Then Jingyi glanced toward him too.
Dilraba noticed.
Again.
She immediately looked toward the stars.
Very interesting stars.
Extremely interesting.
The Audience Sees Him
The quiet scene affected viewers unexpectedly.
A student posted:
Abhay makes silence tense.
Yichen makes silence peaceful.
How is this the same actor?
A mother wrote:
My daughter watches for Abhay.
I stayed for Yichen.
Another:
He doesn’t try to look kind.
He just seems comfortable being kind.
And then viewers began noticing something else.
Dilraba watching Yichen and Jingyi.
The torn orange peel.
Se-jeong’s expression.
The water-pump conversation.
The internet reacted exactly as expected.
DILRABA SAID NO WAY TOO FAST
SE-JEONG KNOWS SOMETHING
JINGYI SAID SHE LIKES HIS PERSONALITY
WHY IS MUSHROOM HOUSE MORE DRAMATIC THAN THE VAMPIRE SHOW
Savitri Mehra watched quietly.
Rhea laughed.
“She’s jealous.”
Savitri shook her head slightly.
“Not only jealous.”
“What else?”
“Uncertain.”
Savitri watched Dilraba.
“Sometimes another person entering someone’s life makes you examine your own place in it.”
Rhea stared.
“Grandma.”
“What?”
“You’re invested.”
Savitri calmly drank tea.
“The writing is competent.”
Rhea laughed.
Morning
Yichen woke at 5:12.
He quietly went outside.
Stretching.
Breathing.
Controlled exercises.
Precise movements.
No dramatic display.
Halfway through, he noticed the camera.
Stopped.
Looked directly toward it.
Raised one finger.
“Shh.”
Then continued.
The editor nearly died.
Dilraba came outside shortly afterward.
“Still waking absurdly early?”
Yichen looked over.
“Still waking late?”
“It’s five-thirty.”
“Exactly.”
“Normal people sleep.”
“I’ve met normal people.”
“And?”
“Overrated.”
She laughed.
They stood together as sunrise appeared beyond the hills.
Dilraba looked toward him.
“You’re happy.”
Yichen paused.
“Yes.”
“I can tell.”
He looked at her.
“How?”
“Your smile.”
He became quiet.
She had known it long enough.
Dilraba smiled.
“Good.”
For several seconds— nothing else was needed.
Then mischief returned to her eyes.
Yichen immediately became suspicious.
“What?”
“Your chicken clip is going viral.”
He closed his eyes.
“Dilraba.”
She ran.
He chased her.
The house woke to laughter.
Broadcast Explosion
By the time the episode ended, Li Yichen’s public image had transformed.
Or perhaps— expanded.
Abhay remained cold.
Dangerous.
Romantic.
Mysterious.
But Yichen was something else entirely.
Warm.
Playful.
Mischievous.
Calm.
Competent.
Thoughtful.
Comfortable with silence.
Search trends exploded:
#LiYichen
#AbhayVsYichen
#YichenFlute
#YichenChicken
#DilrabaYichen
#JuJingyi
#MushroomHouse
#PyaarKiiYeEkKahaani
One viral edit showed:
Abhay:
“Go away.”
Yichen:
“Do you want more rice?”
Abhay:
Cold stare.
Yichen:
Holding a chicken.
Abhay:
“You don’t know anything about me.”
Yichen:
Laughing in a vegetable field.
Caption:
THE GREATEST BETRAYAL IN TELEVISION HISTORY
Another edit showed Jingyi laughing beside Yichen.
Then Dilraba watching.
Then Se-jeong’s knowing expression.
Caption:
SE-JEONG SAW THE PLOT BEFORE THE REST OF US
Four Actors Become Friends
On the ride home, everyone sat differently.
Se-jeong slept against the window.
Zheyuan edited terrible photographs.
Jingyi read comments.
Yichen looked outside.
Zheyuan eventually spoke.
“Yichen.”
“Hm?”
“Thanks.”
“For?”
“Kabir.”
Yichen understood.
The rehearsals.
Advice.
Small corrections.
“You didn’t need to help me.”
Yichen shrugged.
“We’re in the same story.”
Zheyuan smiled.
“I’ll remember.”
“Don’t.”
“Why?”
“Help someone else later.”
Se-jeong opened one eye.
“That’s annoyingly wise.”
Yichen laughed.
Jingyi smiled.
And farther forward—
Dilraba glanced back.
She saw Jingyi’s smile.
Then Yichen’s.
She looked forward again.
Annoying.
Extremely annoying.
More Work
Shen Lihua was waiting when they returned.
She handed Yichen a tablet.
Followers.
Search traffic.
Film inquiries.
Magazine requests.
Variety invitations.
Commercial offers.
Everything had multiplied.
Yichen sighed.
Lihua stared.
“That’s your reaction?”
“More work.”
“Most actors celebrate.”
“I did.”
“When?”
“Internally.”
She swiped.
A viral screenshot appeared.
Yichen holding the chicken.
ABHAY RAICHAND’S TRUE ENEMY REVEALED
Yichen closed his eyes.
“Delete the internet.”
“No.”
“Manager Shen.”
“No.”
Dilraba walked past.
“Send me that.”
Yichen looked betrayed.
“Why?”
“Personal collection.”
“You’ve already seen it.”
“I want high resolution.”
Lihua almost smiled.
Yichen looked toward heaven.
“Why are all of you like this?”
That Night
Yichen returned to his apartment.
Changed clothes.
Made tea.
Sat beside the window.
His phone buzzed.
Jingyi:
I still can’t believe you argued with a chicken.
Yichen:
It started the conflict.
Se-jeong:
LIAR.
Zheyuan:
Chicken 1 — Yichen 0.
Then Dilraba sent a photograph.
Yichen holding the chicken.
She had added a crown.
Caption:
LORD OF THE FARM
Yichen stared.
Then typed:
You have chosen war.
Her response came immediately.
You say that like you ever win.
He laughed.
Then picked up the Episode Four script.
Elsewhere, Dilraba lay in bed scrolling through the day’s clips.
One appeared.
Jingyi and Yichen carrying vegetables.
Jingyi smiling.
Yichen saying something that made her laugh.
The caption read:
PIYA AND ABHAY’S OFF-SCREEN CHEMISTRY IS DANGEROUS TOO.
Dilraba stared.
Then locked her phone.
Ridiculous.
Jingyi was his co-star.
A talented actress.
A good person.
Someone Yichen respected.
That was all.
There was no reason to care.
None.
Dilraba closed her eyes.
Several seconds passed.
Then one thought returned.
What if Jingyi really develops feelings for him?
Her eyes opened.
And behind that question came another.
Much quieter.
Much more troublesome.
Why does that bother me?
Dilraba pulled the blanket over her head.
Across Confluence City, Yichen turned another page of the Episode Four script.
Tomorrow— the warmth would disappear.
The laughter would vanish.
Director Qiao would say—
“Action.”
And the man who had spent an entire day making Mushroom House feel peaceful would once again become the coldest man on television.
Only now the audience understood something they hadn’t understood before.
Abhay’s coldness wasn’t Li Yichen.
His loneliness wasn’t Li Yichen.
His predatory stillness wasn’t Li Yichen.
It was performance.
Construction.
Craft.
And somehow— knowing the smiling man behind Abhay only made the vampire more fascinating.
Yichen looked at the next scene.
Piya was going to step closer.
Abhay was going to push her away.
And millions of viewers— now knowing exactly how warm the actor could be— were about to discover just how cold he could become.
He smiled.
Then began reading.