LABMY CH134

Wan Yuda’s face darkened as he stared at the bowl of seafood porridge in front of him. His fists clenched, and he held back his urge to explode on the spot. The other two amateur participants, facing the cameras for the first time, were somewhat concerned that making a scene in front of a national audience would not look good.

The first to break the awkward atmosphere was the gym owner. He deliberately made a lighthearted joke:

“You’ve made me curious now. Let me give it a try.”

Saying this, he picked up a clean, unused spoon and scooped a spoonful of the seafood porridge.

The moment it entered his mouth, the gym owner’s expression twisted in agony. He hesitated between swallowing and spitting it out, glanced at the camera three times, and in the end, he couldn’t hold back. He rushed to the trash can and spat out the remaining porridge.

At first, when Wan Yuda reacted so strongly, everyone thought he was exaggerating. But seeing the gym owner have the exact same reaction immediately piqued the curiosity of the others.

Chu Caiyang was stunned.

“It looks decent. Is it really that bad?”

Saying that, he grabbed a clean spoon and decided to give it a try. Since Wan Yuda and the gym owner had only taken a bite before rushing off to spit it out—still holding their own spoons—Chu Caiyang had no concerns about hygiene. He scooped a spoonful into his mouth, and three seconds later, he, too, was standing by the trash can.

Seeing this, the CEO participant also decided to try it. Another three seconds later, he stood there, grimacing, clutching his spoon in front of the trash can.

The viewers behind the screen were losing their minds laughing.

• “Hahahahahaha, just how bad can this be?”
• “I was thinking Wan Yuda was being rude at first—spitting it out like that. But when all four of them ended up standing around the trash can, I started wondering—what kind of food could possibly taste this bad?”
• “I can’t believe something that looks so normal could make people gag in just three seconds.”
• “Their reactions are identical—faces twisting, sprinting to the trash can, and spitting it out.”
• “Now that I think about it… Did Jian Yuanbai know his cooking was bad? And that’s why he didn’t pick Pei Yao when he heard the breakfast would be exchanged? Is this… love? I’m shipping them again!”
• “Judging by their faces, I don’t think this is just ‘bad.’ This is toxic, sisters! I bet he put poison in it!!”
• “Case solved. Jian Yuanbai poisoned the food.”

Just as Pei Yao, unable to resist his curiosity, was about to take a bite, Jian Yuanbai reacted quickly and grabbed his wrist.
“Don’t eat it. My cooking is really bad.”

Chu Caiyang, still suffering from the aftertaste, protested,
“That’s not fair! We all tried it—you should let Pei Yao taste it too!”

He knew how to create good entertainment value. A line like this would get the audience excited.

But Jian Yuanbai rejected it outright on Pei Yao’s behalf.
“You guys volunteered to try it. I’m not dragging Pei Yao into this.”

Pei Yao pressed his lips together.
“I’ll just take a small bite.”

The others joined in, egging him on. Seeing Pei Yao insist, Jian Yuanbai didn’t stop him anymore.

Pei Yao took a spoonful and put it into his mouth. In that instant, he fully understood why the others had reacted the way they did.

It was hard to imagine how someone could make seafood porridge taste like this—fishy, bitter, salty, and, oddly enough, cloyingly sweet all at once.

Four completely unrelated extreme flavors clashed in his mouth, triggering his gag reflex.

He tried his best to endure it, but in the end, he couldn’t. He rushed to the trash can and spat it out.

The lingering taste in his mouth was unbearable. For the first time in his life, Pei Yao, usually composed in front of cameras, found himself acting like a kid who had just tasted vegetables he hated—sticking out his tongue slightly, going ptooey, ptooey, ptooey to get rid of the aftertaste.

“Ugh.”

It was truly awful.

In a way, being able to cook seafood porridge this badly was a talent in itself.

The others burst into laughter. Chu Caiyang laughed the loudest.
“How is it? Now you know how bad it is?”

The gym owner chimed in, “I swear, I can still taste it in my mouth.”

The CEO winced, his facial muscles twitching.

“Me too. The taste just won’t go away.”

Only Wan Yuda remained silent, standing behind them with a grim expression. Even if Jian Yuanbai hadn’t intentionally made it taste this bad, the fact remained that Jian Yuanbai knew his cooking was awful and still chose him as a breakfast exchange partner without hesitation. He couldn’t bring himself to laugh—he didn’t even care about the show anymore. He was furious.

As the others joked and laughed, a hand suddenly reached out from the side, offering a cup of honey water to Pei Yao.

Jian Yuanbai said, “I diluted it with some cold water, so it shouldn’t be too hot.”

“Drink some—it’ll help wash away the taste in your mouth.”

The others immediately stopped laughing, looking shocked. Chu Caiyang deliberately gritted his teeth and said, “We all tasted the porridge, but only Pei Yao gets honey water, huh?”

Pei Yao’s ears turned slightly red. Holding the honey water, he sipped it in small gulps, hiding to the side, avoiding the others who were ganging up on Jian Yuanbai, insisting he taste his own seafood porridge.

On the livestream, the bullet comments exploded:

• “I can’t hold back my CP-loving heart anymore!! Silently mixing honey water just for Pei Yao—if this isn’t favoritism, what is?”
• “Seriously, I’m way too curious about how bad that porridge actually tastes.”
• “Wan Yuda, why aren’t you laughing? Is it just your nature not to laugh?”
•  “The moment that honey water was handed to Pei Yao, everyone else’s facial expressions killed me.”
•  “Ahhh, I don’t care anymore, I’m shipping them!! Don’t try to stop me!!!”
•  “My brain is already crafting a bodyguard secretly in love with his employer trope.”
•  “I’m diving straight into this ship! I’m dead from the sweetness.”

As they kept laughing over everyone’s identical reactions to the seafood porridge, they also went wild over Jian Yuanbai’s exclusive honey water for Pei Yao. Regardless of how they reacted, the audience’s attention was now entirely focused on Jian Yuanbai and Pei Yao.

In fact, the seemingly ordinary contestant Jian Yuanbai had ended up stealing the spotlight from the celebrities like Chu Caiyang.

On the trending list, #JustHowTerribleIsTheSeafoodPorridge shot up at lightning speed.

After breakfast, the production team gave them a new mission: finding ingredients for lunch. Whatever they found, they would eat. There were three routes, and teammates were decided by drawing lots. One member from each team would then compete in a game.

The winner would get priority in choosing a route.

Jian Yuanbai had always trusted his luck and unsurprisingly drew Pei Yao as his teammate.

“The rules of the game are simple: It’s an obstacle course challenge. The first to pop the red balloon tied to the railing wins.”

“The red balloon is high up. You can use any tools available at the scene to try.”

In the distance, a red balloon hung high on a railing, at least three or four meters up. Jumping alone clearly wouldn’t reach it.

Before the railing was a series of obstacles—rotating mechanisms, a slide, and a balance beam over a mud pit.

“There are three routes, each corresponding to a different lunch: Route One—noodles, Route Two—Chinese stir-fry, Route Three—a seafood feast.”

The director laughed. “Of course, this time the seafood won’t be cooked by the contestants but by a professional chef.”

As soon as he said this, the entire cast burst into laughter, and the audience watching the stream mercilessly mocked Jian Yuanbai’s cooking skills, which had now been officially certified as disastrous.

Jian Yuanbai shrugged, unfazed. Instead, he turned to Pei Yao. “What do you want to eat for lunch?”

Pei Yao, still amused by the director’s remark, joked, “As long as it’s not made by you, I’m fine with anything.”

Jian Yuanbai couldn’t help but chuckle. “Then how about the seafood feast?”

He winked at Pei Yao. “You didn’t get to enjoy good seafood at breakfast, so I’ll make it up to you at lunch.”

From the side, Wan Yuda sneered, “Talking big before the game even starts. If you end up stuck with just noodles, I’d like to see how you plan to make it up.”

Jian Yuanbai glanced at him with an unreadable smile but said nothing.

At the starting line of the obstacle course, a long table was set up with various tools contestants could use to try and pop the balloon.

The balloon swayed in the wind, high atop the post. Hitting it would be far from easy.

The three contestants were Jian Yuanbai, Wan Yuda, and the gym owner.

There were all sorts of objects—small stones, tennis balls, a toy bow and arrow, and even a half-meter-long toy javelin. Wan Yuda immediately grabbed the javelin, while the gym owner picked a weighted tennis ball.

Jian Yuanbai tested the tension of the toy bowstring. Though it was a toy, it was finely crafted, similar to the bows used in children’s archery clubs.

As soon as the whistle blew to start the game, Wan Yuda and the gym owner dashed forward, stopping carefully at the balance beam over the mud pit. The beam wasn’t completely rigid but had some bounce, requiring careful steps.

While the two focused intently on crossing the beam, Jian Yuanbai remained at the starting line, picking up the bow.

The bullet comments exploded:

• “Wait, he’s not thinking of—?”
  
• “This distance is at least ten meters, plus the balloon is swaying three to four meters high. And he actually thinks he can hit it?”
  
• “Is he serious? No way he can pull this off.”

Skepticism, sarcasm, and mockery flooded the comments. Not a single person believed Jian Yuanbai could do it.

Jian Yuanbai, wearing a short-sleeved shirt, pulled back the bowstring. His arm muscles were lean and well-defined, powerful but not overly exaggerated—just the right amount of strength.

On the island, the wind swept through the air, making the red balloon sway and ruffling Jian Yuanbai’s hair. He narrowed one eye, fully drawing the bowstring. In the next instant, his long fingers released.

A sharp pop echoed.

On the balance beam, Wan Yuda, startled by the sound of the balloon bursting, lost his balance and fell straight into the mud pit. He stared, dumbfounded, at the now-shredded red balloon.

He was stunned. The entire set was stunned. Even the audience watching from behind their screens was stunned.

The scene was so silent that you could hear a pin drop.

Jian Yuanbai turned to Pei Yao, raising an eyebrow. “See? Told you I’d get you that seafood feast.”

The bullet comments exploded:

• “The others didn’t even make it past the first obstacle, and the game is already over. Wan Yuda, does your face hurt?”
   
• “The moment the balloon burst, my heart burst too. OMG.”
   
• “Holy crap!!! When he narrowed his eyes while drawing the bow, that cold and focused expression was next-level hot!”
   
• “Cold expression while shooting, then turning to Pei Yao with a smirk and a raised brow—analyze it, people, analyze it!!”
   
• “Pei Yao, are you falling for him yet?! If you don’t, I will!!!”