The guests were exhausted from travel and quickly grabbed dinner during the camera break.
After dinner, each group returned to their room.
Ning Ke dropped her luggage and sized up the tiny room. Not only was it small, but the ceiling was low, feeling rather cramped.
She dropped her bags and said: “I’m stepping out for some air.”
Yan Yunzhi was changing into the silk pillowcase she had brought: “Come back soon. It’ll be dark soon.”
Ning Ke hummed and walked off. Not long after, she ran into Lin Yun.
The camera operator tactfully stopped filming, and the two talked.
Lin Yun: “We’ll record a bit of the dorm segment tonight. Mind your boundaries.”
Ning Ke: “?”
She smacked Lin Yun in annoyance. Boundaries? Was she crazy?!
Lin Yun, slapped for no reason, said: “I mean don’t strip in front of the camera. What were you thinking?”
Ning Ke: “…”
Lin Yun immediately understood and winked at her: “A dirty mind sees dirt. I get it now.”
Ning Ke: “Scram.”
Lin Yun laughed heartily, then reined it in under Ning Ke’s death glare: “Good night, darling. May you have sweet dreams.”
Ning Ke: “If you pull this again next time, I’ll strangle you.”
Despite her harsh words, Lin Yun paid them no mind. She waved merrily and left, her figure altogether too lighthearted.
Ning Ke continued wandering and eventually walked back to the elder’s home from the afternoon.
Grandpa He sat at the front door. Seeing her, he beamed and waved, dragging over a small stool: “Didn’t get enough to eat? Hungry?”
Ning Ke walked over and sat on the little stool: “No, just taking a walk. What are you doing?”
The old man showed her the bamboo strips: “Weaving bamboo baskets today. Weave a few more to sell for money—the village elementary school roof is broken, and there’s still no money to fix it.”
Ning Ke: “You’re…”
The old man laughed: “I never married or had children. I’m old now, so I find things to do for myself. Those kids are still young—they must get an education.”
Ning Ke heard the world-weariness in his words and did not know what to say, so she just nodded.
Just then, the one-hour break ended, and the camera operator turned the livestream back on.
The moment the camera cut in, it showed Ning Ke sitting with the old man under the night sky, handing him bamboo strips.
After the hour-long break, the bullet comments were fewer.
“Finally survived that hour.”
“Where are the others?”
“Probably still unpacking.”
“Little Ning looks so obedient on the little stool.”
Ning Ke handed the old man bamboo strips, chatting: “So what kind of concert do you want?”
“Concert…” Grandpa He smiled a little sheepishly. “When I was young, I loved singing love songs across the mountains. My sweetheart at the time was drawn in by my singing…”
The old man looked up at the stars in the sky, a trace of clear nostalgia surfacing in his world-weary eyes, as if remembering the days of gentle wind, bright sun, green mountains, and warm waters.
Back then, he had been the handsomest young man in the villages, and his sweetheart had been the most beautiful girl. Every time he returned from market, he would bring her a new set of pretty clothes.
Ning Ke asked instinctively: “And then?”
The old man’s smile faded a bit: “Then… one day, she went into the city with a relative and never came back. People told me she’d stayed in the city, married and had children, and would never return. They all told me to forget her. But I didn’t believe it. I stayed here, going nowhere. She got lost—I’m waiting for her to come home.”
Grandpa He finished and gently plucked at a moon lute.
His voice was mellow and deep as he sang quietly: “She isn’t not coming back, she’s just lost her way.”
Did she lose her way in the cold steel trap of the concrete forest, or amid the dazzling splendor of the mortal world?
No one would ever know.
Ning Ke took a deep breath, quickly turned her head away from the camera, and took a moment to compose herself before continuing: “So is your concert for her to hear?”
Grandpa He smiled, a little shy, with lingering warmth in his eyes: “Our love songs can only echo through these mountains, no matter how beautiful. So when Director Lin came to ask me, I agreed immediately. Maybe… maybe she’ll be able to hear it?”
The bullet comments flooded with [crying] emojis:
“To the one who got lost—do you know someone waited for you his whole life?”
“Loving one person for a lifetime. I want to cry.”
“Little Ning seems to have cried too—her eyes are red.”
“Wuwuwu I can’t hold it in anymore, I’m crying too.”
Ning Ke: “I understand. Do you have any other requests? What kind of concert do you want? We’ll do our best.”
Grandpa He smiled and could not help patting her head: “That’s all. Thank you, girl.”
Ning Ke was a little embarrassed by his pat: “It’s nothing. If you have any ideas these few days, just tell me… and my partner.”
Halfway through, she remembered she knew nothing about music, so he would not get far with her. She had to mention Yan Yunzhi.
Grandpa He thought: “I remember the director called you Ning…”
“Ning Ke, both in the fourth tone,” Ning Ke picked up a wooden stick and wrote in the sand for him. “My name is hard and blunt, just like my personality. Everyone knows I have a bad temper. My family calls me Keke—that nickname sounds a little softer.”
Oh… and Yan Yunzhi called her Little Ning.
That person’s voice was clear and clean, sometimes with a hint of southern tenderness. She said her name in the second tone.
“Keke is so thoughtful.”
“That’s right, how is our Little Ning hard and blunt? I think she’s very gentle with Grandpa.”
“Exactly. Only she asked Grandpa what he wanted.”
Grandpa He smiled kindly: “Your name isn’t bad at all. Your partner—she’s the girl standing with you, right? What’s her name?”
Ning Ke hesitated before answering: “Her name is Yan Yunzhi.”
She rarely called Yan Yunzhi by her full name; even her WeChat note for her was “Ms. Yan.” Uttering it now, she suddenly felt that every character of her name was gentle.
And prettier than her own name… really.
Grandpa He did not quite catch it: “Yan what?”
Ning Ke rested on her knees, leaning forward, writing in the sand with the stick: “Yan Yunzhi. Yun. Zhi.”
Cloud. Arrive.
Pretty too.
Ning Ke put down the stick and remained leaning on her knees.
The camera could not see her expression, only that she quietly touched her own ear.
The bullet comments were about to explode:
“God, she just said her name, and she’s already embarrassed, with red ears.”
“My CP doesn’t even need to interact—one of them doesn’t even need to be present—and I’m still dying of happiness.”
“Stop overthinking, I’m begging you.”
“I’ll ship what I want! Sisters, put ‘Kezhi is real’ on the public screen!”
“Kezhi is real!!!”
The old man said “oh” and looked at her, a knowing smile appearing at her embarrassment: “Alright, go back and sleep.”
Ning Ke: “It’s still early.”
Grandpa He: “Go on, go on. If you don’t, your partner will start to worry.”
Ning Ke: “Ah… let me sit with you a little longer.”
It was cold in the mountains; their breaths formed white puffs as they talked. But Ning Ke showed no sign of leaving.
The audience was anxious for her:
“Go back, go back! Teacher Yan is waiting for you!”
“I want to see what the single room looks like!”
“Can the dorm segment air or not?! What good is this honored VIP for?!”
“Hey, see that? Bottom right corner, there’s a split-screen feed! Looks like the dorms! Aww!”
Many reality shows included dorm segments to increase audience immersion. This episode, the production team planned to include one. But Perfect Partner was livestreamed, so they needed to set up equipment in four rooms simultaneously and give viewers a switching experience, which required higher technical requirements.
The production team tested several times, spending half an hour more than the expected hour before it was ready.
Ning Ke would not move, so the camera operator temporarily stopped recording.
Then, the four room options appeared on viewers’ screens as the dorm segment finally opened.
Room 1, the two-story building: no issue—good conditions, separate rooms for men and women.
Room 2 was the twin room, with two single beds—also no problem.
Room 3 was Qin Pei and Jing Luo’s, a big bed.
The screen lit up. Qin Pei had changed into silk pajamas and stood by the bed hugging her pillow: “Sister, you take the inside. I’ll take the outside.”
Jing Luo had not changed yet, clutching the hem of her clothes: “Teacher Qin… maybe you should sleep alone. I’ll just sit for a bit.”
Qin Pei came over and patted her shoulder: “What’s there to be afraid of? We’re all sisters. It’s just sharing a bed.”
Jing Luo went stiff as she was led to the bed: “I… I really can’t… I’ve never even slept with my mom. Never. I’m not used to being close to others.”
Qin Pei: “It’s fine. There’s a first time for everything. Don’t worry, I don’t eat people.”
Jing Luo was torn: “Alright… okay.”
Compared to the first two rooms’ calm, this room got more attention and discussion:
“Jing Luoluo’s social anxiety is me. Last time I went to my aunt’s house, I was also forced to share a bed with her.”
“Hahaha, when a social phobic meets a social butterfly, I’m suddenly looking forward to it.”
“I’m not okay, I’m reminding myself Teacher Qin is a married woman. I can’t ship this.”
“Same here. Teacher Gao is handsome, talented, and dotes on his wife…”
Finally, Jing Luo lay down, and Qin Pei turned off the light.
The screen went dark, and viewers rushed to the last room.
The screen switched.
Room 4 was a small wooden hut—everything was simple: a bed, a chair, a door, nothing else.
But there was already a small difference from the beginning. Yan Yunzhi had changed into the silk sheets she had brought from home, a soft misty blue. A brightly colored simple drawing hung at the head of the bed. A small scented candle sat before the bed, its warm yellow light flickering across her fair, delicate face.
The bullet comments instinctively quieted down.
“I don’t know why, but this room feels the warmest.”
“Sister’s expression is so serene and calm… ah, I can’t find the right words.”
“She’s waiting for someone to come home.”
Time passed, minute by minute.
Yan Yunzhi stood up and walked to the door.
The moment she opened it, she saw Ning Ke standing in the small courtyard. The frost on the ground glittered like scattered silver under the moonlight, covered with light, messy footprints, as if someone had paced back and forth.
Hearing the door open, Ning Ke turned her head: “Why did you come out?”
It was so cold, and her health was so poor. Why was she not sleeping?
“Ning Ke,” Yan Yunzhi stood at the door, her tone brooking no argument. “Come inside and sleep.”
The bullet comments went wild:
“Sleep, sleep!”
“Get in there!”
“Ning Ke, your wife is telling you to sleep!”
