After saying those words, Yun Qi stepped back with composure, paying no mind to Duan Xingge, who sat frozen in his seat, nor to the look of astonishment on the faces of the others present.
By this moment, the live broadcast room could no longer be described with simple terms like “lively.” Given the volume and intensity of the comments, “a raging tempest” might have been more appropriate:
“Duan Xingge, say something!!!”
“Ahhhhh, I’m obsessed with this pairing!!!”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me President Yun was such a tease?! Do you have any idea how much of an impact a lip-smacking moment has on a fan of this ship??”
“Which defenseless little puppy could withstand this??”
“Wait, did they really kiss? Oh my god! Cheng Xi didn’t specify where, so how did they end up kissing on the lips? Huh???”
“Xingxing looks like a puppy that was ready for a head pat, only to be suddenly kissed by its owner.”
“Ahhhh, I can’t take it! Who took a screenshot? I need to watch this on repeat!!!”
However, regardless of how excited the chat was, the game of Truth or Dare, which had lasted for the better part of the day, finally came to an end.
With this, Yun Qi finally stood at the crossroads of fate, stepping onto a path diametrically opposed to the one he had walked in his previous life.
When he returned to his seat, his peripheral vision caught sight of the glass of fruit juice still sitting there untouched, and his heart skipped a beat for no apparent reason.
It was hard to say whether it was the excitement of changing his destiny or the palpitations caused by his impulsiveness moments ago.
When the host announced that the game was over, Duan Xingge remained sitting in his seat, still looking dazed. The tips of his ears were distinctly red, a far cry from his usual polished and smooth demeanor.
Strangely, he looked more like someone of his actual age at that moment, appearing even a bit indescribably pure.
Duan Xingge had no idea that this specific screenshot of him would later become a photo that countless people would talk about with great relish.
By the time he snapped out of his trance, the game was completely over, and Yun Qi had already returned to his room.
The host had even finished announcing that the first round of dates would begin after dinner, yet Duan Xingge still didn’t move.
Seeing this, Ming Jiao couldn’t help but speak up: “Brother Xing, dinner—”
Before he could finish his sentence, Duan Xingge abruptly stood up. His chair slid back with a loud sound. Ignoring the fact that the cameras were still rolling, he treated Ming Jiao as if he were invisible and walked quickly toward their living quarters.
Ming Jiao was left sitting there in a daze, his sentence unfinished. After he came to his senses, a layer of watery mist filled his eyes, reflecting a sense of grievance, but the people who came over to comfort him were not the two he had hoped for.
Yun Qi, who had returned to his room a step ahead, did not know what had happened outside. He had appeared composed and even managed to turn the tables under the lens, but only Yun Qi himself knew how fast his heart was beating to the extent that his plans had deviated in subtle ways.
He had forgotten to remind Ming Jiao to be careful.
He did not want to warn Ming Jiao because of any affection; on the contrary, Yun Qi held no fondness or positive emotions toward this so-called “transmigration protagonist.”
In fact, from a perspective Yun Qi was very unwilling to admit, he harbored a subtle, inexplicable dislike for Ming Jiao.
It wasn’t the jealousy of a supporting character toward a “child of fate,” nor the disgust of a superior toward the ignorant; it was an unspeakable, pure, and subtle distaste for someone who coveted what was his.
Perhaps it started with that coy “Brother Xing” during the second phase, or perhaps from the moment he learned the truth while dying in his past life—Yun Qi had been avoiding his own heart, yet he could no longer truly deny it.
But whether looking at it from the principles of being a decent person or from that suspicious plate of crab roe buns, everything seemed to be inextricably linked to Ming Jiao.
Although he did not like Ming Jiao, he could not stand by and watch him die.
Realizing this, Yun Qi stood up from the bed, intending to go warn him. Just then, the room door was suddenly pushed open.
Yun Qi’s footsteps faltered as he watched Duan Xingge walk in, backlit by the light.
The glow of the setting sun outlined his figure, as if covering him in a golden halo, making it impossible for anyone to look away.
Even Yun Qi, who disapproved of Duan Xingge’s debut the most, had to admit at this moment that the kid truly had the capital to make a living off his looks.
However, before he could contemplate any further, the other person walked over in silence against the light.
Yun Qi’s heart jumped, and he instinctively took a step back.
Like that, for every step Duan Xingge took, Yun Qi took one back, until he was pressed against the side of the bed with nowhere else to go. Only then did Yun Qi grit his teeth and stand firm: “…What are you doing?”
“Nothing, really.” Duan Xingge leaned in close. “President Yun left early. The host asked me to notify you that the first date of this phase starts after dinner.”
He said he was doing “nothing,” yet the distance between them was far from normal social interaction.
At this moment, Yun Qi couldn’t help but curse inwardly at how he had raised this kid to be so sturdy. Right now, he was blocking all the light behind him. Not only from a third-party perspective but even from Yun Qi’s own view, it looked as if he were being held in Duan Xingge’s arms.
“…Understood.” Yun Qi pursed his lips. “It’s time to eat, move aside.”
Duan Xingge remained unmoved: “Has President Yun thought about where you want to go for the date? Where are we going after dinner?”
Yun Qi was taken aback: “…When did I agree to go on a date with you?”
“Didn’t President Yun kissing me just now mean we’re dating?” Duan Xingge, who was making groundless accusations, actually started acting aggrieved first. “It was clearly President Yun who initiated the invitation. Don’t tell me you’re thinking of being unfaithful and refusing to acknowledge it?”
…Is “unfaithful” used in that context?
Yun Qi nearly lost his breath, but Duan Xingge seized the opportunity to push his luck: “Besides, I didn’t feel like President Yun’s initiative ended there just now. How about…”
Before he could finish, Yun Qi knew what he wanted to say. His scalp went numb, and he agreed to whatever he had said earlier just to stop him.
“…Fine. Wait for me on the deck after dinner.” Yun Qi couldn’t take it anymore and raised a hand to push his face away. “Get up, don’t just stand there like a mountain.”
Duan Xingge took the hint, smiling with satisfaction as he stood up, changed his clothes, and followed Yun Qi toward the dining room.
Because of Duan Xingge’s nagging, Yun Qi had missed the chance to warn Ming Jiao.
He even suspected the true motive behind Duan Xingge’s insistence on sticking to him—after all, no one knew Duan Xingge’s nasty nature better than Yun Qi.
But as the two talked, there was no sound outside but the quiet waves and the wind.
Even until dinner began and everyone took their seats, nothing happened. Ming Jiao, who should have fallen into the water at this point in the previous life, was sitting safely in his place.
This meant… while other conditions remained the same, just because Yun Qi had refused to drink the juice, Ming Jiao had not fallen into the sea.
Yun Qi frowned almost imperceptibly. When he looked at Ming Jiao, who was sitting at the other end, his eyes finally held a scrutiny he hadn’t possessed before.
At this moment, he finally realized what he had been ignoring all along he had ignored the biggest variable, Ming Jiao, this “protagonist” who seemed to have no schemes either before or after the book’s events.
What one sees isn’t necessarily the truth; how could he have been so convinced that Ming Jiao was as naive as described in the book?
Can a transmigrator really be as simple as the book described?
If not, then all of them, these so-called “smart people,” had been deceived by the real-life Ming Jiao and his book persona alike.
Of course, it was also possible that he was overthinking it. Looking at the current situation, Ming Jiao didn’t seem to have the brains for it, so his overthinking likely held the upper hand.
Yun Qi lowered his eyes, concealing his emotions, and ate a piece of beef that Duan Xingge had put on his plate.
Regardless, everything had to wait until he survived the night.
Only after surviving this night could he clearly judge whether everything was an irresistible “plot kill” imposed by fate or a future he could influence.
After dinner, the first official date began.
The other guests sent invitations to Ming Jiao, but Ming Jiao cast his gaze toward Yun Qi.
Yun Qi ignored his gaze and stood up from his seat.
Seeing this, Duan Xingge followed suit and asked with a smile: “Does President Yun want anything to drink?”
“No.” Yun Qi paused and turned around. “Just get whatever you want.”
Realizing the implication behind those words, Ming Jiao widened his eyes in disbelief, and the audience finally came to their senses:
“??? Wait, when did you two make plans for a date? How come I didn’t know?!”
“They must have secretly set it when they went back to the room!!”
“That amateur looks like a clown trying to wedge themselves between a couple—can I say that?”
“Ahhhhh, I really want to know what happened in the room. Can the director please install surveillance in the double rooms??”
“Installing surveillance is too much trouble. I suggest sending me under the bed instead. I don’t want money; I’ll pay to be there!”
Under the cameras, Duan Xingge smiled even more clearly upon hearing this: “Okay.”
While Duan Xingge went to get drinks, Yun Qi stepped onto the deck first.
The moment the sea breeze hit his face, he realized that from now on, everything happening on this cruise ship was a brand-new chapter he had never seen in his past life.
Perhaps he didn’t need to wait for the bell to strike twelve; something in the dark had already quietly changed.
Those tense thoughts dissipated slightly with this realization, replaced by a sudden, quickened heartbeat.
As if gradually waking from anesthesia, Yun Qi realized in retrospect what he and Duan Xingge had said throughout the day.
Yun Qi’s expression stiffened. His mind involuntarily flashed through everything that had happened today—whether it was that photo that kept getting misunderstood or the kiss, which he wasn’t sure was impulsive or something else, it all made his heart feel as if it were being brushed by countless feathers, itching and trembling.
Just then, a small but subtle sound came from behind him.
Yun Qi snapped out of his reverie and turned to look, only to see a decorative curtain being blown by the wind.
While relieved, Yun Qi returned to that slightly tense state. Midnight had not yet passed, and even with the cameras following them, he still needed to be twelve times more vigilant.
However, how much of this forced tension was due to vigilance against fate and how much was to escape, only Yun Qi himself knew.
Not long after, Duan Xingge, who had gone to get drinks, arrived late, holding a cola.
The two leaned against the railing together, letting the salty sea breeze blow over them.
Seeing what Duan Xingge was holding, Yun Qi couldn’t help but frown: “Remember to make the soda company pay you for advertising when you develop osteoporosis one day.”
Hearing the familiar scolding, Duan Xingge was stunned for a moment, then laughed: “I drink it occasionally to relieve stress.”
He didn’t look like someone who had any stress at all, and no one knew what kind of “stress” he was relieving.
Yun Qi’s brow twitched, and just as he was about to say something, Duan Xingge turned to look at him and preempted him: “According to the show’s rules, the first date is always a ‘confession session.’ President Yun hasn’t forgotten that, right?”
Yun Qi was choked. Of course he hadn’t forgotten; otherwise, he wouldn’t have gone back to his room to hide after drinking that juice in his previous life.
Seeing him remain silent, Duan Xingge started the confession session on his own: “Since President Yun isn’t talking, I’ll take it as you agreeing. Then I’ll start the questions first—”
He intentionally drew out his voice, and seeing Yun Qi didn’t object, he shifted the topic: “I’ve actually always wanted to know… why did you keep that photo?”
He didn’t use the half-mocking title of “President Yun” again, nor did he specify which photo, but everyone present including the audience in the live room knew exactly what he was talking about.
Yun Qi’s breath hitched. He looked away at the sea for a long time before saying: “…To help you learn a lesson, but it didn’t come in handy.”
Not long after that photo was taken, Duan Xingge had left the Yun family; it really hadn’t been the time to use it.
Recalling that past, Yun Qi couldn’t help but purse his lips.
“Is that really the only purpose?” Duan Xingge, a master at ruining the atmosphere, raised his eyebrows confidently. “Not because you were looking at the object and thinking of the person?”
Yun Qi snapped out of it, scoffed, and didn’t speak, seemingly mocking Duan Xingge’s confidence.
Duan Xingge wasn’t annoyed; instead, he said impatiently: “Then I’ll take it as the truth… Now it’s President Yun’s turn. What do you want to ask?”
He added, fearing Yun Qi wouldn’t react: “Be sincere, President Yun. Speaking the truth won’t kill you… It’s only by not saying anything that people end up with lifelong regrets.”
Yun Qi had intended to say nothing, but that last sentence from Duan Xingge seemed to touch a nerve.
He looked at the familiar sea surface, thinking of the immense regret he had felt, rather than despair, when he was dying.
Yun Qi gazed at the starry sky reflected on the sea for a long time: “Why did you trick me into joining this love variety show?”
The audience was still immersed in the “photo incident” and had no idea about this, so they became lively:
“Huh??? Wait, what does that mean?!”
“Ah, so the show didn’t invite President Yun?”
“Trick??? Why use that word? Did Xingxing get a kickback??”
“Didn’t they say they had a falling out long ago?? Well, you two were already interacting before the first episode… do you city folks call this a falling out?”
“Xingxing: Brother, I have a terminal illness; if you don’t go on the show, I’ll die with regrets… Is that the kind of ‘trick’?”
Duan Xingge leaned on the railing with one hand holding the cola, propping his chin up as he looked at Yun Qi and smiled: “What does President Yun think?”
Starlight mixed with moonlight hit his profile. Yun Qi’s heart skipped a beat. He immediately looked away, staring straight at the sea with a deep, inscrutable expression: “I’m the one asking you now.”
“Fine, fine, don’t get angry. I’ll tell you.” Duan Xingge adopted an “I’ll do whatever you want” attitude. He paused for a moment before saying in a casual but matter-of-fact tone: “Because I wanted to see you.”
The sea breeze happened to stop at that moment. The simple sentence landed like a heavy hammer on his heart. Yun Qi’s pupils shrank uncontrollably, and his heartbeat missed a beat.