Can't Hide My Love for You - Chapter 60

During the recording of the program in Yan City over the past few days, the schedule was grueling. Cheng Yixin left her hotel early every morning and didn’t return until nine or ten at night. The physical challenges and obstacle courses left her exhausted; every night, she simply showered and collapsed into bed, with no time for anything else.

Before sleeping, she saw a message from Song Zheng, asking if she had been busy.

[Cheng Yixin]: Busy. I’m recording in Yan City. I finish tomorrow morning and head back the day after. [Song Zheng]: You haven’t been surfing the web, have you? [Cheng Yixin]: No. It’s late by the time I get back; I don’t have time to scroll through my phone. What happened now? [Song Zheng]: It’s nothing major, but didn’t you do a charity livestream recently? I was just scrolling through recommendations and saw some people saying the quality of the oranges you sold was problematic—that the ones sent out were all rotten. [Song Zheng]: I didn’t click into it, and I can’t find the post now. [Song Zheng]: Just a reminder to be careful and keep an eye on quality control. Resolve any issues quickly. Nowadays, even a single issue with a celebrity’s sales can be dragged out and mocked.

Rotten fruit? Cheng Yixin froze. She remembered the complaint Li Wenjing received before she left for the trip; that person also sent photos of rotten fruit. Was it the same person?

[Cheng Yixin]: I see. I’ll ask my manager. Someone did DM her about an after-sales issue a couple of days ago, and it was handled then. I’m not sure if it’s the same person.

After replying, Cheng Yixin immediately called Li Wenjing. She had been so busy with the show that she hadn’t asked about the follow-up, and Li Wenjing hadn’t brought it up.

“Sister Jing, was the after-sales issue with that orange order resolved?”

On the other end, Li Wenjing was already struggling with insomnia; the call only made it harder to sleep. Over the past few days, consumers who bought oranges had been receiving their packages. Since the vast majority were Cheng Yixin’s fans, many had been providing feedback in the “Super Topic” community about the poor quality.

Issues ranged from inconsistent sizing and rotten fruit to damaged packaging and underweight boxes. Worse, the shop’s customer service was non-responsive, and buyers found their orders had been “automatically signed for” by the system!

When they complained to the platform, the customer service used boilerplate excuses: the merchant hadn’t promised “compensation for bad fruit,” and the package was already signed for. Since the money goes straight to the merchant’s pocket upon signing, it was clear they had no intention of resolving the issues.

As more complaints flooded the community, Li Wenjing realized something was wrong. She tried calling Liu Min, but his phone was off. Her WeChat messages went unanswered. When she tried to log into his account to process refunds herself, she found he had already changed the password.

With problems piling up, Li Wenjing could only deal with the immediate crisis. She contacted the complaining fans one by one, apologizing and issuing refunds from her own pocket. Fortunately, since most were fans, they were just venting in the community; no one had made a public scandal yet. As long as she apologized and refunded them, they were understanding.

She planned to settle the score with Liu Min after handling the refunds. At least she had confirmed the location of the orchard; they couldn’t run away.

But being asked by Yixin now, Li Wenjing realized—too late—that this was a trap. The other party had utilized Yixin’s kindness to gain sympathy, enticed her to offer help, and actively used their own account for the stream to build trust. Their ultimate goal was to take the money and run once the system automatically confirmed receipt.

If Yixin knew that her “fan” was actually a scammer exploiting her good heart, she would be devastated. Li Wenjing could still vividly recall Yixin’s excited face when she talked about sending a box of cherries to Liu Min’s father once he was discharged.

“Yixin,” she paused. “Communication with Liu Min hasn’t been smooth. The goods he sent weren’t the same as the samples. Right now, I’m already processing refunds for the buyers.”

She spoke as vaguely as possible, hoping to keep the “warm light” in Yixin’s heart from burning out.

“How could this happen…” Yixin murmured, her heart sinking.

“Don’t worry. Once everyone is refunded, there won’t be any issues. This was my mistake; it was our first time working with a private supplier, and I should have sent someone to oversee the shipping.”

“Should… should I post an apology on Weibo?”

“No. Don’t,” Li Wenjing said. “Right now, it’s just fans talking in the community. If you post on Weibo, marketing accounts who didn’t know about it will dig into it and blow it up. Luckily, we framed it as ‘rural assistance.’ If the real reason came out, people would accuse you of exploiting public sympathy.”

“Just focus on recording your show. When you get back the day after tomorrow, we’ll discuss the follow-up in detail. That orchard isn’t going anywhere. We won’t pay a single cent that he should be responsible for. Trust me, I’ll stabilize the situation.”

“Okay.” Yixin believed her and let out a breath.

Even so, after hanging up, Yixin couldn’t sleep. She steeled herself and opened her “Super Topic” on Weibo. The real-time feed was still full of fan-made edits and “goodnight” posts. Scrolling down, she found a complaint about the oranges. The blogger had posted high-definition photos: not even half were edible, and some rotten fruits even had mold spots. It looked like they had been sitting for a long time.

Seeing it with her own eyes, Yixin’s heart was a tangle of emotions. She sat for a long time before getting out of bed and walking to the window. The cool breeze drifted through the gaps; even in an air-conditioned room, she felt the chill.

She hugged her arms, staring at the outdoor LED lights of the building opposite. The DMs Liu Min had sent her played back in her mind. In those words, she truly felt the helplessness and despair of an adult facing reality. She had wanted to give him a hand—so why was this the result?

Before this, she believed her fans were good people; even if some were a bit aggressive online, their nature wasn’t bad. Now, her feelings were too complex for words. Even if a family member was seriously ill and money was tight, one shouldn’t cheat people by selling inferior goods.

After a long time, she exhaled softly. Forget it, Li Wenjing will handle it. Whatever money is owed, the law will make him cough it up.

The next morning, after finishing her recording, Cheng Yixin made a beeline for Dingxing Temple. Usually, few people visit the temple outside of the Lunar New Year. Looking around, she saw only the buildings and a few tourists; it felt very lonely.

Her grandmother had brought her here when she was a child, but the temple hadn’t been as beautifully renovated then. The memories of what it used to look like were blurred, as the area had been expanded with several new shrines.

“Sister Xin, are you hungry?” Xiao Yu looked around. “I saw a restaurant on the way here. Want me to get you some takeout?”

Yixin looked at her and laughed. “Are you hungry?” Xiao Yu gave an embarrassed smile. Yixin said, “Come on, I’ll take you for some free vegetarian food!”

“Free food?!” Xiao Yu was surprised. “I’ve never had a temple meal. Is it any good without all the oil and seasoning?”

“It’s delicious. I still remember the taste—if it hasn’t changed, that is.”

Dingxing Temple was built against a mountain, meaning they had to climb many high stone steps. The dining hall was located halfway up the mountain among the shrines. By the time they reached it, they were both panting.

“Goodness, if this food isn’t good, I’m going to hit my head against a wall!” Xiao Yu turned to look down from the railing, realizing how high they had climbed. The sky was blue and beautiful.

“Don’t worry! Once you eat it, you’ll want more.”

There was a donation box at the entrance of the dining hall for voluntary contributions. Stepping over the high threshold, the tables inside were simple “Eight Immortals” tables with long wooden benches. They looked very old and worn. It was self-service: take a bowl, fill it with food, eat what you take, and wash your own dishes afterward.

The main dish today was porridge—but not plain white porridge. It was cooked with shredded dried beancurd skin and celery, making it look appetizing. Yixin scooped a bowl of porridge and picked up a side dish of pickles. The pickles were crunchy and perfectly seasoned—a great match for the porridge.

“These pickles are so good!” Xiao Yu was instantly impressed. “Better than the ones sold outside! I could eat two big bowls with this porridge!”

“Right?” Yixin said with a smile. “Don’t think vegetarian food is necessarily bad. If it’s done well, it’s just as good as meat.” As she spoke, she wished Chi Yi was here too. She wanted to share her footprints and the flavors she had tasted. She missed her so much.

She took a photo and sent it to Chi Yi. Compared to the usual exquisite plating and beautiful tableware, this photo had zero “luxury” feel. The bowl was an old-fashioned “Rooster Bowl,” the wooden tabletop was peeling, and there wasn’t a hint of meat. It didn’t look appetizing at all.

[Chi Yi]: Are you eating at a temple? [Cheng Yixin]: How did you know?

She was surprised. She didn’t think Chi Yi would be familiar with such ordinary things. She couldn’t imagine “President Chi” squeezing onto a wooden bench with strangers to eat temple food. It felt out of place.

[Chi Yi]: I’ve eaten there. I love their pickles; it’s a taste you can’t find anywhere else. [Cheng Yixin]: Then shall we come together next time? [Chi Yi]: Please, you MUST take me!!!

She even added an exclamation mark. Cheng Yixin couldn’t help but smile.

After lunch, they washed their bowls and returned them. Before leaving, Yixin took out 50 yuan in cash she had specially exchanged at a convenience store and placed it in the donation box.

On their way out, they met a monk and asked for guidance. He was very enthusiastic, leading them through the shrines and introducing the statues. There was a fortune-telling cylinder in the hall. Since she was already here, Yixin had a sudden whim to draw a fortune for good luck. Under the monk’s direction, she burned incense and bowed.

She shook the cylinder with extreme devotion. Like any young person, she whispered in her heart: “Let me become rich.” Perhaps her obsession with wealth was too strong, as half the sticks fell out at once. She had to start over.

This time, she changed her wish. “Good health, peace, and keep the troublesome things away from me…”

This time, two sticks fell out: No. 8 and No. 44. Following the monk’s instructions, she used the “Holy Cups” (divining blocks) to select one.

“Master, which of these two is better?” she asked.

The monk replied, “Complete the draw first and see which number you end up with.”

Cheng Yixin drew No. 44. Numerically speaking… it was very unlucky. The monk led them to a rack where the fortune slips were kept in order. He found No. 44, tore it off, and handed it to her.

“The two sticks you drew just now were extremes,” he said as he handed it over. “One was a ‘Top-Tier’ (Shang Shang) fortune, the other was a ‘Bottom-Tier’ (Xia Xia) fortune.”

Cheng Yixin took the slip with anticipation. There were two rows of vertical text she didn’t understand, but she understood the words in parentheses next to “No. 44.”

——Bottom-Tier (Xia Xia) Fortune.