RSDH CH27

The production crew had chosen this site for the outdoor cookout because just across a strip of trees lay a crystal-clear stream, with water quality tested and confirmed safe.

The other guests had already washed their produce, fetched water, and begun cooking.

Duan Xingye had returned late, so by the time he headed over with his basket, he was the only one on the bank.

Old Xu trailed behind with the camera.

Leaving the open cooking area, the surroundings instantly turned peaceful and quiet.

Beneath the overcast sky, intertwined with the tones of forest, misty rain, and green moss, the emerald stream rippled merrily past with a gentle burble.

Duan Xingye stepped gingerly onto a damp bluestone and squatted down.

He went to rinse his hands, but the instant his fingertips grazed the surface, he snatched them back like lightning.

The chat was thoroughly amused, rolling with laughter: Cat retracts paw~

The weather showed no sign of warming up, and the stream water was bone-chilling.

Out here with limited firewood, heating water was an outright luxury. Earlier, when the other guests washed their vegetables, they had all hissed from the freezing bite; seeing their struggles, viewers had laughed while sending sympathetic coos, making for great variety entertainment.

But Duan Xingye hated the cold. It had nothing to do with physical fitness; he had simply been spoiled rotten growing up, shielded from heat, cold, and rough handling, leaving him with an exceptionally low tolerance for pain.

To him, the flowing water before his eyes was not water at all, but a dense swarm of razor blades. Washing greens here was the equivalent of dipping his hands into a churn of spinning knives.

Just as Duan Xingye was agonizing by the water, footsteps sounded behind him.

Duan Xingye glanced back.

Cheng Duzhou had already taken off his jacket and rolled his shirt sleeves up two folds, flicking a hand at him to gesture: scoot over.

Duan Xingye did not bother being polite, shuffling two steps sideways in a squat to make room.

Cheng Duzhou scooped a bundle of scallions from the bag to wash first, the icy stream submerging the backs of his lean, well-defined hands.

Duan Xingye shuddered just looking at it. Seeing him wearing only a high-end dark dress shirt, he asked, “Cold?”

Cheng Duzhou fished out a handful of scallions, his usual impassive demeanor tinged with quiet drive: “Not cold.”

Duan Xingye recalled his previous look of a dejected country dog and wondered how he had bounced back so quickly. But with the camera present, he could not ask, assuming Cheng Duzhou’s sulking was not worth taking seriously anyway.

With nothing to do, Duan Xingye picked up a twig from the ground and scraped at the mud on the soles of his light-colored sneakers; walking all the way back from the village had left quite a mess on them.

Leaving the washing entirely to Cheng Duzhou, he asked, “Did you wash the greens earlier too?”

Cheng Duzhou was paired with Jiang Li, and given his gentlemanly nature, he would not let Jiang Li handle such miserable chores.

“No,” Cheng Duzhou shook the excess water from the clean scallions, “Lao Xiao insisted on washing them first.”

Thinking of how Xiao Jiahui had fawned over Jiang Li all day, Duan Xingye remarked objectively, “Lao Xiao really knows how to dote on his wife.”

Cheng Duzhou, having just set the scallions down, froze. Straightening his back with his arms resting on his knees, he fixed cool dark eyes on Duan Xingye, irritation seeping into his tone: “Then what do you think I’m doing right now?”

“Ahhhh! He’s jealous!”

“Dying of laughter, President Cheng suddenly possessed by a contrarian spirit.”

“Both are tools washing vegetables for their wives, so why do you only praise Lao Xiao? Little Zhouzhou here is going to get mad.”

“He just can’t stand his wifey praising anyone else!”

In the livestream, the barrage of comments swept past so wildly it almost felt like it could disturb Duan Xingye in real life.

Duan Xingye glanced back briefly at the camera, then looked at Cheng Duzhou, tapping the stone slab with his little twig: “I didn’t say you were bad. Hurry up and wash.”

Feeling brushed off, Cheng Duzhou silently lowered his head and pulled potatoes from the bag.

Duan Xingye stayed quiet as well, idly poking at the rubber of his shoe with the stick.

How could he not hear that Cheng Duzhou was fishing for a compliment? His cheeks warmed for an instant, marveling at how this normally tight-lipped man became so expressive the moment acting was involved.

Truly a born Best Actor. Even exposed to cameras practically all day, he held his persona rock steady, occasionally throwing in improvised scenes to display affection.

Aside from their lack of chemistry, a promotional partner like this was beyond reproach.

Drawing in a couple of breaths of damp, chilly air, Duan Xingye jabbed the twig onto the stone slab, finally finding an opening to settle scores: “Why did you pick a vegetable?”

“?”

“Out of all those items, wasn’t what I’d pick obvious enough? What were you thinking?”

A trace of awkwardness flitted across Cheng Duzhou’s face. He thought this matter was behind them, since Duan Xingye had already said he was not mad. Yet here he was digging it back up.

Difficult.

He said, “You like blue.”

“Exactly!” Seeing that he actually knew yet still picked wrong, Duan Xingye flared up, “Wasn’t that whale blue?!”

Cheng Duzhou pressed his lips together, saying after a moment, “Broccoli has ‘blue’ in it too.”

“How could it, that’s green…”

Just as Duan Xingye was about to question whether Cheng Duzhou was colorblind, gears turned in his head.

Xi-lan-hua… blue flower… blue.

“…”

Even the chat was chilled by the pun: With President Cheng’s train of thought, how did he ever manage to pursue Teacher Duan back then?

Hanging his head, Cheng Duzhou scrubbed one potato clean, moved on to the next, and muttered quietly, “When I gave you a plushie, you didn’t like it.”

Duan Xingye froze, parting his lips slightly.

With that dolphin, he had only called it ugly and acted mildly disdainful; he had not said he disliked it.

Cheng Duzhou continued to himself, “But when I gave you flowers, you didn’t say you disliked them. So I chose broccoli.”

The chat instantly flipped: Ah, you bastard, you totally deserve to have a wifey!

Duan Xingye did not know what to say. Looking down to clean his shoes, warmth gently pooled in his chest.

If one called Cheng Duzhou’s behavior pure acting, the man still remembered every personal detail about him crystal clear in private. A moment of carelessness could easily blur the lines, making him feel as though he truly held a place in Cheng Duzhou’s heart.

If his heartbeat strayed out of control in moments like this, he could not be blamed.

Pursing his lips, Duan Xingye gathered his thoughts and glanced toward the water.

Soaked in the stream, Cheng Duzhou’s hands had flushed bright red.

He could not resist asking again: “Cold?”

“Not cold.”

Cheng Duzhou deftly scrubbed the potatoes clean one by one. Watching him, Duan Xingye knew that although Cheng Duzhou’s personal net worth had long ranked him on the rich lists, he never put on airs when doing chores in daily life. Cheng Duzhou had grown up accustomed to hard work, making him far more mature and resilient than other children his age.

Whenever Cheng Xian had spare moments away from driving duties, his focus was entirely on his hospitalized wife.

As a child, Cheng Duzhou had basically relied on himself for everything. Yet not only did he take good care of himself, but he had learned to make soup and help with household chores at the tender age of five.

One weekend morning when he was five, free from kindergarten, Duan Xingye had wet the bed and woken earlier than usual.

When the nanny arrived to clean up, she mentioned that Cheng Duzhou was simmering soup in the kitchen. As soon as his trousers were changed, Duan Xingye dashed downstairs.

Standing on a stool before the prep counter, Cheng Duzhou’s small figure looked poignantly solitary beside the deep pot on the stove.

At first, the adults had not allowed him to use the kitchen independently, but seeing how remarkably level-headed and safe he was, unlike an ordinary child, the kitchen had eventually opened to him.

Back then, Duan Xingye barely reached higher than the counter. Bracing both hands against the rim on tiptoes, his large dark eyes strained to peek into the pot, thwarted by his height. “What kind of soup are you making?”

Cheng Duzhou glanced down at him, maintaining the rhythm of his stirring ladle: “Chicken soup.”

“For your mommy?”

“Yeah.”

Duan Xingye wrinkled his small nose.

It smelled delicious.

Tilting his head to watch Cheng Duzhou, he felt that Cheng Duzhou’s cooking looked nothing like the little girls playing house in kindergarten.

Cheng Duzhou asked, “Do you want some?”

Duan Xingye nodded: “Okay then.”

Cheng Duzhou ladled out half a spoonful, blew on it, and carefully crouched down.

Holding his wrist, Duan Xingye leaned down and took a sip from the spoon.

Cheng Duzhou asked, “How is it?”

Duan Xingye chewed with puffed cheeks, squinted, and shook his head: “The nanny’s tastes better. Why don’t you let the nanny make it for you?”

Cheng Duzhou said nothing, standing back up to keep stirring the soup.

Duan Xingye had not realized back then that the nanny belonged to his family, not Cheng Duzhou’s.

Pausing, Cheng Duzhou watched the boiling broth in the pot and said, “When I’ve made soup from a hundred chickens, Mommy will get to come home.”

Duan Xingye leaned against the counter edge again, asking, “Who told you that?”

“Nobody. I said it to the sky.”

“How many have you made so far?”

“Five.”

“Oh.”

Five was just the fingers on one hand.

How many was a hundred?

Pulling his thoughts back, Duan Xingye tossed the twig aside: “Let me do it.”

Cheng Duzhou looked at him in confusion.

Duan Xingye had already rolled up his sleeves and plunged a head of cabbage into the water.

“Hiss!”

In barely a second, Duan Xingye set the wet cabbage back down, curling both hands tightly between his pressed abdomen and thighs, pulling his sleeves over them as he bundled up even tighter than before.

Cheng Duzhou chuckled softly under his breath.

Duan Xingye genuinely wanted to help, but the freezing water was a pain he could not endure.

“Stop laughing!”

Duan Xingye glared at him.

Cheng Duzhou happened to be looking over too.

Their eyes met.

Duan Xingye saw those dark eyes brimming with amusement, shorn of their usual stoic gravity, carrying a touch of boyish mischief.

Watching him, the corners of Duan Xingye’s lips twitched sideways, fighting to hold his breath.

Finally, with a soft snort, both burst out laughing like actors cracking up during a take, giggling uncontrollably for no apparent reason.

The chat erupted into non-stop shrieks, proclaiming the shared smile was far too sweet.

Though viewers had no clue what they were laughing about, they understood that couples always shared unspoken, subtle moments like this.

On screen, beneath overcast skies and misty rain, the two squatted by the brook with crinkled, smiling eyes, radiating a cozy, joyful atmosphere that crossed the screen.

Duan Xingye kept his head down, watching his reflection ripple across the water.

After a moment, he called out, “Cheng Duzhou.”

Cheng Duzhou reined in his smile slightly, asking, “What?”

In a languid, soft drawl, Duan Xingye said slowly, “When you smile, the sky turns warm.”

“…”

The potato in Cheng Duzhou’s hand nearly rolled into the stream, the shockwave of his heartbeat striking so violently it bordered on dizzying.

Lingering amusement still brushed Duan Xingye’s face, his upturned eyes pristine and clear as the brook, yet warmer than the water ever could be.

A flurry of comments galloped through Cheng Duzhou’s mind, aligning into a single thought: He’s whispering sweet nothings to me.

Unable to suppress the heat surging in his chest, he leaned forward.

“What do you think of that line? I want to put it in a song,” Duan Xingye pointed at his reflection in the water, “Looking at my own face, it just popped into my head.”

“…”

Damn it.

Narcissistic pretty boy.

Cheng Duzhou pulled back into place, forcing himself to calm down: “Pretty good.”

He went back to scrubbing vegetables with vigorous force, scraping an entire layer of skin off the potato.

When Duan Xingye returned to the clearing, thirty minutes remained before the cookout ended.

Cheng Duzhou intended to stay and help, but Duan Xingye shooed him away, leaving Cheng Duzhou somewhat bewildered.

Duan Xingye tossed a match into the kindling, setting the wok onto the stand.

Once the fire caught and the wok heated up, he poured in some water, picked up the spatula, tugged his sleeve over the handle, and stood at a safe distance.

The chat laughed:

“Too real, that’s literally how I cook, terrified of oil splattering.”

“I’m starting to worry, can Teacher Duan pull this off?”

Duan Xingye dumped the beef fat into the wok. Holding the lid in front of him like a shield against evil spirits, he poked and flipped the fat with the spatula.

Seeing this, Jiang Li nudged Cheng Duzhou: “Want to go over and lend a hand?”

Cheng Duzhou said, “He won’t let me.”

Jiang Li chuckled and shook her head: “Your husband seems very independent, not clinging to you at all.”

Cheng Duzhou watched Duan Xingye for a moment, lowering his eyelashes: “You could say it’s his only uncute quality.”

Seeing that Duan Xingye was already cooking with clear amateur awkwardness, Tao Ziyi sneered.

The dish Duan Xingye made would definitely be inedible. Given his arrogant attitude earlier, Tao Ziyi resolved to pull zero punches during the judging.

Because of residual moisture, the beef fat crackled at first, but once the tallow rendered out, the bubbling steadied.

Duan Xingye scooped out the cracklings and dumped in a whole basket of scallions.

Viewers wondered what he was making:

“Scallion oil noodles?”

“Skewers?”

“Chive pockets?”

With that much oil, it definitely was not a standard home-cooked dish.

When the scallions turned golden-brown, Duan Xingye scooped them out, tossed in minced ginger, and dumped the prep bowl of red, black, and brown ingredients all at once. A sound like a downpour roared as a cloud of thick white smoke billowed up.

Duan Xingye covered his nose and mouth with his arm, stepping back two paces to avoid the smoke.

By then, the pungent, numbing, spicy aroma had already swept across the clearing.

Wu Enqi tilted her head, sniffing the air: “What is that? It smells amazing.”

The production crew caught the scent as well, quickly giving the wok an overhead shot.

Red bird’s eye chilies floated atop, mixed with red and green Sichuan peppercorns, cinnamon bark, bay leaves, star anise, and countless spices one could not name at a glance.

Only then did the viewers realize:

“It’s hotpot soup base!”

“Incredible, Teacher Duan actually knows how to fry hotpot base?”

“So smart! This way, whatever vegetables are sliced can just be swished in it!”

Smelling the pungent air, Tao Ziyi’s lungs rebelled, hacking into a cough as he cast suspicious glances toward Duan Xingye.

What was he playing at? Did he think spice alone could mask every flaw?

His chat was debating as well:

“Looks like he’s making hotpot base.”

“Duan Xingye knows how?”

“Real Sichuan-Chongqing hotpot requires precise recipes, not just dumping peppers in. Unless his family runs a hotpot restaurant, it definitely won’t taste good.”

“The guy who can’t cook is truly winging it.”

The initial chili aroma was sharp and biting, but gradually mellowed as it blended with the rich beef tallow. The scents released by the various spices mingled into a harmonious blend of numbing, spicy, savory, and aromatic goodness, drifting across the fields and making everyone salivate.

Drawn by the smell, Jiang Li and Wu Enqi abandoned their own stations to watch Duan Xingye.

“Not bad, Teacher Duan, this smells incredible.” Wu Enqi swallowed hard.

A glossy layer of red oil floated on top, the thick soup base resting beneath, virtually identical to authentic restaurant hotpots she had tried in Sichuan-Chongqing.

Tired after standing for two minutes, Duan Xingye pulled up a chair and sat, pushing the spatula in slow circles.

Jiang Li rubbed her hands: “When can we dig in?”

“Soon,” Duan Xingye checked the color, “Just need final seasonings.”

When time was called, the head director announced the judging had begun.

Everyone gathered around the long table as dishes were brought out.

Because Duan Xingye had unexpectedly created a hotpot, the crew specifically brought a portable gas burner. Once lit and set beneath the pot, the spicy, mouthwatering aroma filled the air once more.

Duan Xingye, whom everyone feared would blow up the kitchen, had produced the meal everyone anticipated most.

Wu Enqi cheered with excitement.

Only Tao Ziyi wore a strained expression, staring at the pot as if burning a hole through it, asking, “It smells good, but is it edible?”

“Aiya, won’t we know once we try? Don’t mind if I do!” Jiang Li was the first to dip her chopsticks, swishing a slice of pork belly in the rolling broth.

Others followed suit.

Meat cooked in seconds. Jiang Li lifted it, blew gently, and popped it into her mouth without hesitation.

The livestream waited breathlessly for her reaction.

Duan Xingye was clearly a novice whose clumsy movements while frying could not be faked, and tackling something as demanding as hotpot raised doubts.

Yet as that ordinary slice of meat entered her mouth, the tastebuds on her tongue exploded in fireworks. Perfectly savory, wonderfully salty, carrying a lingering, spicy complexity that kicked off a full-blown party in her mouth.

Jiang Li’s eyes went wide. Unable to speak while chewing, she made vague murmurs of delight, holding up a frantic, enthusiastic thumbs-up.

“Staged, right?”

“If not for the over-the-top acting, I would’ve almost bought it.”

“Sigh, Duan Xingye is treated like a VIP, everyone flatters him wherever he goes, nothing we can do.”

“Don’t spread rumors; Duan Xingye nearly grabbed vinegar instead of soy sauce earlier. How could he make anything good?”

Wu Enqi had already eaten a piece of tripe, crisp within seven seconds and coated in authentic numbing spice.

Venting steam, she cheered, “It’s so good!”

One by one, praises rang out, turning the tasting into a full-on hotpot gathering.

Skeptics fell dead silent, while viewers drooled just watching.

“Wuwu, I want to eat Teacher Duan’s hotpot too.”

“I love Sichuan-Chongqing wifey so much~”

“Teacher Duan is amazing, conquering the whole table on his first try.”

“I’m hungry, heading out for hotpot right now.”

A steaming pot like this brought genuine warmth to the chilly winter outdoors.

Seeing his jade tofu soup ignored while even Huang Liang dug into the hotpot, Tao Ziyi kicked his husband under the table.

Huang Liang blinked: “Eat some too, it’s really good.”

Tao Ziyi’s face soured.

He could not handle spice at all, capping out at mild; staring at the red broth made his throat ache.

Looking up, he caught Duan Xingye looking at him with a faint smile: “Senior Brother, why aren’t you eating?”

Freezing, Tao Ziyi picked up a slice of meat, muttering weakly, “I’m… eating…”

Having bragged on camera before the cookout, he had no way out, forced to swallow the painful spice.

Lowering his lashes, Duan Xingye masked a trace of cold mockery.

After the picnic, the dishes were scored.

Duan Xingye’s hotpot swept the table, earning a perfect ten, while the others hovered around seven.

The lowest belonged to Tao Ziyi and Huang Liang. Their delicate tofu soup, despite its meticulous preparation, tasted completely bland after everyone had scorched their tongues on hotpot.

Following the meal, viewers could tell the other couples were completely won over by Duan Xingye’s cooking, chatting about home gatherings.

Jiang Li said warmly, “President Cheng knows where I live. When are you bringing Teacher Duan over?”

Duan Xingye responded lukewarmly, “We can go whenever we’re free.”

Standard polite banter. He had no intention of going.

In their two years of marriage, he and Cheng Duzhou had never attended public events together, let alone private social gatherings; they had always stayed out of each other’s hair.

Right at that moment, Cheng Duzhou turned his head: “When aren’t you busy?”

Caught off guard by being undermined, Duan Xingye paused: “We’ll see.”

Cheng Duzhou pressed, “Give a rough time.”

“?”

With so many eyes on them, Duan Xingye felt cornered onto a pedestal, arching a delicate eyebrow at Cheng Duzhou with an ‘Excuse me?’ look.

Acting as if he had not seen it, Cheng Duzhou tapped his fingers against the table: “Hurry, Sister Jiang is waiting for an answer.”

“…”

Fuck. Stirring up trouble on purpose.

While Duan Xingye hesitated, Jiang Li clapped her hands: “Let’s tentatively say next Friday! Everyone should be free then. We’ll have a meal together before filming.”

“Works for me,” Cheng Duzhou said.

All eyes turned to Duan Xingye.

Under pressure, Duan Xingye lowered his lashes, then lifted them, maintaining: “We’ll talk about it later.”

Beside him, Cheng Duzhou shot him a glance.

After the picnic wrapped up, the production crew issued a new mission.

Jiang Li read from the cue card:

“Companionship Along the Way Feature Film.”

“Xi Village is picturesque. To commemorate this trip and embrace the water town scenery, we will arrange for everyone to film a reenactment from New Legend of Madame White Snake. Please step forward to draw your character cards, but do not open them until checking into your rooms.”

Among the guests, Cheng Duzhou and Jiang Li were the best actors. Duan Xingye knew nothing about acting, but on a romance variety show, people watched for entertainment rather than cinematic brilliance, so playing along was all that mattered.

A staff member brought forward a box for everyone to draw from.

Jiang Li asked, “What if we draw the opposite gender?”

The head director answered, “The crew will adjust costumes according to gender, so there won’t be cross-dressing. You are free to improvise within the given storyline.”

The chat approved: Exciting~

With no further questions, the guests drew their envelopes, leaving them unopened to maintain suspense.

Next came free rehearsal time.

Everyone set off toward their assigned accommodations according to their mission ranking.

As first-place winners, Cheng Duzhou and Duan Xingye secured the most luxurious courtyard home near the scenic area, earning envious looks from the others.

They got into the car.

Cheng Duzhou sat pressed against one window, while Duan Xingye leaned against the other, leaving enough space between them to fit someone of Old Xu’s size.

Even viewers noticed the tense atmosphere:

“What happened to these two? They were fine during lunch.”

“Tired, maybe.”

“No need to sit so far apart though.”

“Does President Cheng look unhappy?”

The phones had already been returned to them.

Duan Xingye browsed Weibo for today.

#Cat# had climbed up the rankings, the reason crystal clear.

Not wanting to relive the embarrassment, he skipped it without clicking in.

Another was #LosingYourselfInYourWife’sCompliments#, centered around Cheng Duzhou.

Watching the video replay, Duan Xingye saw himself impulsively planting a kiss on Cheng Duzhou in his excitement, only now feeling awkward about it.

At the end of the clip, Cheng Duzhou indeed looked completely dazed and lost, showing the glazed eyes of someone who could not find north.

Silly dog.

Duan Xingye exhaled and opened WeChat.

Seen: [Speak up if you have an issue, don’t pull that miserable face on me.]

Cheng Duzhou’s low-pressure mood was obvious; it was hard to ignore.

The other side seemed to have been waiting for him, replying instantly.

Cheng Duzhou: [Are you very busy?]

Seen: [???]

Seen: [Do I look idle?]

Duan Xingye felt slightly slighted, assuming Cheng Duzhou, as a busy multi-award-winning Best Actor, was questioning his workload as a singer.

Cheng Duzhou: [No time to join a gathering?]

Duan Xingye pursed his lips, the slight fading.

Seen: [I’m not an accessory, nor do I have any obligation to accompany you to gatherings with your friends.]

He had zero interest in family gatherings. Knowing they were a fake couple, having to put on an act at someone else’s house sounded exhausting. Cheng Duzhou was friends with Jiang Li and could not very well go alone, so his function would be nothing more than keeping up appearances.

Cheng Duzhou went quiet for a long while.

Duan Xingye locked his phone and looked out the window.

Such things should not have been laid out so bluntly, making it awkward for both of them.

Suddenly, the phone vibrated.

Duan Xingye looked down.

Cheng Duzhou: [You are not an accessory.]

While Duan Xingye was still reading the message, a shadow leaned over from beside him.

He subconsciously turned his head.

Cheng Duzhou lowered his face, pressing a kiss onto the mole on the bridge of his nose. His lips still carried the lingering heat from the hotpot.

After a firm, lingering press, Cheng Duzhou pulled back.

Duan Xingye stared at him, stunned.

Cheng Duzhou’s jaw tightened slightly. His dark, deep eyes locked onto Duan Xingye, and before his face could flush red, he declared with fierce bravado: “You are the husband of me, Cheng Duzhou. Do you have any doubts about your status?”

Perhaps sensing his own bluff, he tacked on a CEO-style sign-off at the end: “Hm?”

“…”

Under the livestream camera, the husbands had gotten into the car in tense silence, staying quiet for ages, only for Cheng Duzhou to suddenly lean in, kiss Duan Xingye, and domineeringly declare his claim.

The chat confessed they were totally lost: ?

__

Author’s Note:

Teacher Duan: Why do other domineering CEOs smell like cologne, while you smell like beef tallow hotpot?