Chapter 23: Wife-Spoiling Maniac

After wrapping 《Girls’ Fortress》, it was time to record the reality show 《Hi, Lover》. Cheng Jinzhi and Rong Si appeared as special guests. Each couple had their own little nest, and they were there as “neighbors” visiting the “celebrity couples.” Invited by He Xi, Cheng Jinzhi and Rong Si naturally visited the “Watermelon Couple.” The “Watermelon Couple” was the hottest pairing on the show, known by then as the “National CP.” It was precisely because of their “performance” on the show that He Xi and Gu Ah’s popularity had skyrocketed. Before this, He Xi had been just an obscure little actor, and Gu Ah had been practically invisible in her girl group. In her words: an extra among the backup dancers of a popular girl group.

《Hi, Lover》 focused on sweetness and warmth—audiences nowadays preferred these light entertainment shows. At the same time, the show was very life-like. For example, in the first episode about decoration, the crew gave challenges, and completing them earned a certain decoration budget for the celebrity couple to fix up their little home. In the first episode, the Watermelon Couple stood out. The two had a disagreement—He Xi wanted a warm, pink look, while Gu Ah moved her sci-fi model collection into the house. After their “argument,” Gu Ah agreed to reduce the sci-fi models but still kept a severed sci-fi figure’s arm on her nightstand, which netizens called “the last stubbornness.” Although reality shows have scripts, for an individual celebrity to stand out, they still had to rely on their own variety skills. Clearly, He Xi and Gu Ah had plenty of variety sense. Harmony was good, but harmony after a little “bickering” made their personas more distinct. That was the goal of all celebrities coming on the show: building their persona.

Cheng Jinzhi and Rong Si “visiting” the Watermelon Couple was quite fun. He Xi and Gu Ah were both goofballs, and they got along well with Cheng Jinzhi, trading quips. Rong Si, on the other hand, seemed a bit quiet. People like Rong Si were usually called lacking in variety sense. Yet she carried a certain tranquil temperament that kept things from being awkward even when she said nothing. When the “Watermelon Couple” chatted with Cheng Jinzhi, they also teased Rong Si’s “silence”; Rong Si only smiled politely from the side. This “above it all” feeling gave her an unexpectedly refreshing variety sense—the editors added lots of extras for Rong Si, and the editor himself only got more excited as he went.

During games, because the red team was one person short, Rong Si was assigned to it. Even in games, Rong Si moved unhurriedly. In a painted-lantern drawing game, Cheng Jinzhi “mischievously” came to cause trouble by Rong Si’s side. She drew two prank mustaches on Rong Si’s creation. Other guests would’ve jumped out of their skin, but Rong Si just ruffled Cheng Jinzhi’s head and carried her away. When Cheng Jinzhi squatted on the ground throwing a tantrum, Rong Si squatted down and carried her off. Cheng Jinzhi had been sabotaging the red team, so naturally the red team sabotaged her too. With two minutes left in the game, her painted lantern was still barely half done. She pouted at Rong Si, eyes glistening. Rong Si’s lantern was already finished. Seeing Cheng Jinzhi like this, she walked over.

“Rong Si… I can’t…”

Rong Si took Cheng Jinzhi’s brush, and Cheng Jinzhi obediently squeezed into Rong Si’s arms. Rong Si raised a hand to rub her head, then picked up the brush—looking for all the world like she was cradling Cheng Jinzhi in her arms. Rong Si had just made one stroke when He Xi’s wail came from the red team. “Rong Si, what are you doing! You’re on our team!”

Rong Si’s tag read “Wife-Spoiling Maniac,” and the editors even pasted a red double-happiness character onto the two of them.

After the games, in the backstage interview, He Xi made a “life is over” face. “Earlier, Old He kept wanting to bring his wife onto our show. Those two are shameless, and I was afraid they’d steal mine and Gua’s spotlight. So I invited a pair of female celebrities instead. I never expected…”

He Xi wiped the corner of his eye. “Recent female celebrities are too insane! They’d do anything for screen time! Yes, I’m talking about that ‘Persimmon’ pair! Especially Rong Si—nine out of ten minutes she’s staring at Cheng Jinzhi, and the remaining minute she’s spacing out!”

The moments Rong Si appeared to be spacing out were also given extra material by the editor, with speech bubbles added around her. “Where’s Jinzhi? Have you guys seen Jinzhi? Second one without Jinzhi in frame—miss her…”

During a break, Cheng Jinzhi asked Rong Si. “Rong Si, I feel like you were spacing out.”

“No. I was concentrating.” Rong Si said.

“Your way of concentrating is spacing out?”

Rong Si exhaled. “The show feels a bit noisy. My ears can’t take it.”

Looking at Rong Si, Cheng Jinzhi laughed again. “So you were relieving the pressure on your ears—one ear in, one ear out?”

“You could say that.”

“It seems making you go on a variety show really is putting you out.” Cheng Jinzhi said.

“Not really.” Rong Si trailed slowly behind Cheng Jinzhi. “I can see you’re having fun.”

“Good, as long as you’re happy.” Rong Si said.

“Good, as long as you’re happy”—a phrase that usually sounds sarcastic, but coming from Rong Si, it somehow felt different.

In the show’s footage, Gu Ah also chatted with Rong Si. “Si’er, you’re still only in your teens, right?”

“Nineteen this year.”

“Oh my god, so young. Jinzhi should be younger than you, right? I feel like you’re more mature.”

“Mm. She’s three.”

“My Xixi’s only three and a half too.” Gu Ah said.

This segment was also cut out, and the editor added a line: “Somehow, a sweet couple showing off their love turned into an exchange of parenting tips…”

Each episode was over ninety minutes, but recording wasn’t as easy—each episode alone took several days to film. After the first day, Cheng Jinzhi was a bit tired but also excited. “I saw you chatting with Gu Ah. What were you talking about?”

“Nothing much.”

“Tell me.” Cheng Jinzhi said. “If you don’t talk before bed, you’ll talk in your sleep.”

“Just some trivial conversation. No center to it, hard to summarize.” Rong Si said. “If you want to hear it…”

“Alright, I’ll just watch the show when it airs.” Whatever interesting things came out of Rong Si’s mouth would lose their flavor anyway. Thinking this, Cheng Jinzhi took out her phone and started chatting with Gu Ah. Gu Ah was still in the dance studio practicing—with the New Year approaching, all sorts of shows had invited their girl group.

“When you chat with Rong Si, ask her about her ideal type or something.” Cheng Jinzhi messaged Gu Ah.

“Ooh, something’s going on!” Gu Ah sent a clapping emoji.

“Nothing’s going on, just curious.”

“All romances start from curiosity.” Gu Ah replied. “Oh my god, coming on this show is a goldmine. Miss Cheng, please get famous fast. Then I can ride your coattails and escape the B-list.”

Cheng Jinzhi sent a rolling-eyes emoji. “You’re famous enough already. I want to ride your coattails.”

“Come on, my fame—drought when it’s dry, drowned when it rains.”

Gu Ah and Cheng Jinzhi hit it off, and naturally, Gu Ah kept reposting Cheng Jinzhi on Weibo. “Sisters’ midnight: Cheng Jinzhi.”

Attached were a few photos. The first two were from the day’s games with Cheng Jinzhi. To avoid leaking the show’s plans, she’d pixelated the game content, leaving only two heads. The last two were screenshots of her chat with Cheng Jinzhi, with Cheng Jinzhi’s WeChat avatar specially covered by Gu Ah using a meaningful dog face. Gu Ah didn’t cover her own avatar—earlier, she and He Xi had planted a couple-avatar inside joke. She never said they’d changed to couple avatars; she just posted WeChat screenshots of her friend list, letting netizens “accidentally” discover it.

“Don’t want to watch this episode, like this.” Negative comments appeared quickly.

“Guagua [pitiful], let’s be careful about making friends, okay?”

“Gua fans are too dramatic. Your idol finally got herself a big thigh, and you’re stirring the pot.”

Seeing this, Gu Ah asked Cheng Jinzhi, “Jinzhi, what did you even do?”

“Messed up a few roles…” Cheng Jinzhi had read the comments on Gu Ah’s post.

“It’s always like this lately—follow-the-crowd worship and follow-the-crowd hate.” Gu Ah comforted her.

“It’s fine. It’s always been like this, hasn’t it?”

“True.”

“Oh god, Gu Ah, let me hug you—I’m gaining followers, scary!” The moment Cheng Jinzhi reposted Gu Ah’s Weibo, her follower count started climbing. Cheng Jinzhi didn’t have many followers, and most were zombie followers DC had bought. With too many zombies, she even needed to buy likes on posts. The Weibo she reposted quickly climbed the trending searches.

“Oh god, the Prince Consort has climbed the wall! Princess, open a Weibo already!” Even without Rong Si opening a Weibo, many comments on Cheng Jinzhi’s Weibo kept tagging her.

“Guagua what the hell—two heads floating over pixelation. Give me back my sexy Cheng goddess [laughing-crying].” Gu Ah was indeed quite hot lately. Even in Cheng Jinzhi’s comments, most people, even if not fans, had neutral goodwill toward her.

It seemed variety shows really attracted fans. Before bed, Cheng Jinzhi thought to herself whether she should take on more variety shows. When she woke the next morning, Rong Si was already awake, practicing lines from the school’s morning reading booklet. Watching the earnest Rong Si, Cheng Jinzhi woke instantly. She wanted to be an actress—an actress like Rong Si.