If The Persona Is Wrong, Everything Else Is In Vain - Chapter 6

When Xiao Li began unloading bags upon bags of luggage from the car, Lin Luo stood there dumbfounded.

“Isn’t this… a bit much?”

Xiao Li wiped away his sweat and grinned. “How could it be too much? It’s for a whole month. That’s only 20 outfits, not even enough for a fresh one every day.”

“If your closet hadn’t run out, I would’ve packed enough for 30 days without a single repeat.” He kept chattering away, his hands moving efficiently as he organized the gear.

Lin Luo lent a hand. Feeling the heavy weight of the suitcase and seeing it packed to the absolute bursting point, he wouldn’t have been surprised if Xiao Li told him there was an entire wardrobe inside.

After huffing and puffing to finish moving their luggage, Xiao Li immediately hurried back toward the road.

“Where are you going?” Lin Luo called out behind him.

Before Xiao Li could answer, Lin Luo found out for himself. A black Passat bypassed the inquisitive gazes of the village aunties at the entrance and drove straight toward them.

Lin Luo recognized the license plate instantly, he’d know it even if it were burnt to ashes and sent off by Gu Ning himself.

Supposedly, it was a “lucky number” passed down through the Gu family. Gu Ning treasured it deeply; even when he went “bankrupt” and sold his Ferrari, he couldn’t bear to part with that “Yun A G00DB” plate.

Glancing at the sheer volume of luggage Xiao Li was unloading from his car, Lin Luo realized Gu Ning wasn’t here for a quick visit, it looked more like he was moving in.

“What are you doing here?”

The midday sun was harsh, making one feel lightheaded. Combined with Gu Ning’s flashy, sequined outfit, the glare was so blinding that Lin Luo had to shield his eyes with his hand to see him.

Gu Ning mimicked the gesture, squinting as he leaned in close with a serious expression. “When did you have the surgery? I know our Fanxing is in a crisis, but I don’t recommend it. We’ve gotta stay all natural, no picky eaters, catering to the public taste, ya know?”

Lin Luo: “…You’re sick.” He swung a fist at him, only to be “counter attacked” by the armor-like sequins on Gu Ning’s clothes.

Gu Ning smirked and broke into a spontaneous, chaotic dance. The sequins shimmered wildly, he was being insufferably annoying.

“Oh, everyone’s here.” Ming Songqin walked over with his “business family set,” followed by the equally solemn Ming Zheng and Zhou Wan, who wore sunglasses and looked like he didn’t give a damn about anyone.

Gu Ning froze at the sound. He quietly tucked away his performance and slipped behind Lin Luo, uncharacteristically lowering his head and falling silent.

Ming Songqin glanced at him, then walked over to Lin Luo, naturally putting an arm around his shoulder. “Let’s go inside. The production team has already arrived.”

Zhou Wan lowered his sunglasses slightly, glanced at the two of them, then pushed them back up. With a light sneer, he bypassed everyone and was the first to enter the house.

The old wooden house, built with traditional mortise and tenon joints, had weathered many years. Its exterior had been refinished with several layers of protective lacquer, yet moss and microorganisms still thrived in the crevices, a level of temporal depth that “retro style” imitations could never replicate.

Shuihe Village focused primarily on cultural tourism. The He River flowed through the entire length of the territory, the villagers lived off the mountains and the water, which had sustained dozens of generations.

Most houses in the village followed this style, independent wooden buildings spaced apart in a row. From above, they followed the winding curve of the He River, appearing orderly and comfortable, forming the second “Mystic River” of Shuihe Town.

Earlier, Ming Songqin had explained the job, filming a variety show that combined reality TV with documentary elements. The theme was “Happy Slow Life Amidst Fast Paced Development,” using the program’s lens to record and promote the cultural heritage of Shuihe Town.

Only now did Lin Luo understand the meaning behind Ming Songqin’s earlier questions: “Aren’t you going to ask what the project is first?” and “It’s a project tailor-made for you.”

This show was indeed something he could do alone. Adding a “CP” (couple pairing) might actually make it seem flippant, disrespectful to the culture, or like a desperate attempt to chase clout.

The content was, as Ming Songqin said, a perfect fit for him, virtually bespoke.

However, when it came time to actually sign the contract and learn the details, Lin Luo hesitated.

Shuihe was Lin Luo’s hometown. His father had died away from home and hadn’t been allowed to “return to his roots” for burial. To this day, he was only buried in a plot of land outside the village.

Wave after wave of negotiations had yielded nothing. The “intermediary” he found in the village did nothing but collect fee after fee, only managing to secure that plot outside the village.

While Shuihe Village had a long history, its conservative mindset was deeply rooted. “Male and female” pairings were still the mainstream, even though official regulations had long established ABO as the primary genders.

From the village entrance to the end, everyone was a neighbor, and news traveled fast. Shortly after “that incident” happened, it spread everywhere. The whole village knew the Lin family had a son who liked men and had supposedly angered his own father to death.

The rumors grew more outrageous with every retelling. Gossip has a power of its own, it can crush people. The first victim had been Lin Luo’s mother, who lost her sanity.

Lin Luo sighed, a sound Ming Songqin caught instantly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Lin Luo silently slipped his shoulder out from under Ming Songqin’s arm and stepped forward to help Xiao Li with the luggage.

Ming Songqin blinked, awkwardly withdrawing his empty arm. He muttered something ambiguous: “Don’t worry. No one will bother you.”

Those hollow words didn’t quite reach Lin Luo’s ears, but they were overheard by Gu Ning, who was standing a step behind. Gu Ning’s eyes flickered as he shifted his gaze away from Ming Songqin’s back.

“Now that everyone is here, I’ll briefly go over the filming details,” the director said, gesturing for the departments to gather in the open space in front of the central hall.

“Our program, Seeking Quiet: Shuihe Chapter, has a filming period of one month. To ensure progress, there will be daily tasks, mostly experiencing the daily lives of the villagers. There will be specific reward and punishment mechanisms. Please put all other matters aside for this month, your private activity range is limited to Shuihe Town. Any departures must be reported in advance.”

He continued with a long string of precautions. Zhou Wan, listening, grew drowsy and fell asleep leaning against his chair.

Gu Ning leaned into Lin Luo’s ear to whisper, “This is your hometown?” He looked around, judging the place. “The environment is decent, green hills, clear water but I wonder…”

“No, absolutely not,” Lin Luo cut him off. Before Gu Ning could even finish, Lin Luo knew what kind of nonsense he was about to spew and nipped the wicked thought in the bud.

He didn’t know how a Beta like Gu Ning could have a “heat cycle” stronger than Alphas or Omegas.

Lin Luo leaned in with an exaggerated expression to scare him. “You better watch out, or they’ll take you away for an exorcism.”

Gu Ning swallowed hard, his lustful heart still beating. “What kind of exorcism? Shamanic dancing? Or what?”

Lin Luo lowered his voice, his expression solemn and his eyes unfocused, as if recalling a dark memory. “They’ll tie you to a pillar in the ancestral hall and feed you twelve meals over three days.”

“Holy crap, is that necessary?” Gu Ning’s voice went up an octave in fear.

He was the type who gained weight just by drinking cold water, his current physique was maintained purely through starvation and exercise. People are most easily triggered by what they lack, and this punishment was a total death blow for him.

“It might be twenty-four meals. Late-night snacks included,” Ming Songqin interjected, having overheard their whispering.

Gu Ning shot him a glare, not wanting to engage. Then he saw Lin Luo stifling a laugh, realized he was being teased, and swung a playful punch at him.

“Alright, I’ve covered everything,” the director said, standing up and handing out printed copies of the instructions. “If anything is unclear, feel free to ask. Today is a free activity day. You can look around and familiarize yourselves with the environment. We start official filming at 8:00 AM tomorrow.”

Ming Zheng kicked the sleeping Zhou Wan and nodded toward the paper the director was holding, signaling him to take it.

Zhou Wan sat up straight, rubbed his groggy head, and snatched the stack of papers, his face full of morning crankiness.

The director stood there awkwardly, thinking to himself that he’d heard of the “fame” of this parachuted top-tier idol, Young Master Zhou, but seeing it in person was even worse than the rumors.

Ming Zheng took her copy and thanked the director politely on behalf of both of them.

“What’s next?” Zhou Wan rubbed his temples, feeling a splitting headache.

Ming Zheng: “Free activity, but you can’t leave Shuihe Town.”

She glanced at Zhou Wan with a cold expression. she had always looked down on this young master who had nothing but a pretty face and a good family, yet was arrogant and rude.

If it weren’t for the pressure from Zhou Wan’s father and Ming Songqin, she, a gold-medal manager, would never have been assigned to play nanny to Zhou Wan.

“Don’t go sneaking out to meet your group of fair-weather friends,” Ming Zheng said in a chilling tone, carrying an undeniable weight of authority. “Don’t make me say it twice.”

Zhou Wan responded irritably. Just as Ming Zheng looked down on him, he loathed a cold working machine like her.

Zhou Wan yawned and was about to head back to his room to sleep when he spotted Lin Luo and Ming Songqin together.

Ming Songqin called out to Lin Luo, who was being pulled away by Gu Ning. “Xiao Luo, wait for me. I have something to take care of, about twenty minutes. I’ll take you out when I get back.”

Gu Ning rolled his eyes secretly, standing behind Lin Luo to watch the performance.

Lin Luo refused. “No need. I’m more familiar with this place than you are.”

“I saw the camellias blooming on the mountain. I thought you’d want to go,” Ming Songqin said with a light chuckle, as if reminiscing. “One year, you sneaked up the mountain alone, injured your leg, and stayed in bed for a week.”

“Since then, you never dared to go up alone. Every year, you insisted I go with you.”

“That was a long time ago. Besides…” Lin Luo started to say seriously.

Zhou Wan forced his way in, wedging himself between the two of them. He asked with a smile, “Where are we going? Take me along too.”

“I think I heard someone talking about childhood,” he said, answering his own question without leaving room for anyone else. He looked feignedly annoyed. “But since everyone here is an adult, there’s no need to sit around reminiscing about being kids, right?”

He paused to think for a moment, then looked enlightened. “And out of everyone here, it seems you are the furthest away from childhood…” He left the sentence hanging, letting the implication sink in.

He naturally draped an arm over Lin Luo’s shoulder and laughed heartily. “But no matter how you look at it, I should be the one accompanying Luo-ge.”

“Don’t you have things to do? Go on, Uncle Ming.”

The whole routine was a perfect solo act, if no one addressed him.

Unfortunately, Ming Songqin didn’t take the bait. He looked at Lin Luo. “Xiao Luo, is that what you think too?” Lin Luo actually hallucinated a hint of hurt on that eternally stoic face. “Do you also think I’m too old?”

Lin Luo gave a dry laugh. “Of course not.”

Ming Songqin was 32 and Lin Luo was 28. If he thought Ming Songqin was old, what did that make him?

Gu Ning couldn’t take it anymore. He stepped forward and shoved Ming Songqin. “Enough. Haven’t you had enough?”

A cold glint flashed in Ming Songqin’s eyes, freezing Gu Ning, who immediately shrank back behind Lin Luo. He stammered, “Everyone goes. We’ll all go together, okay?”

Lin Luo glanced at him with a complex expression. Gu Ning pouted and winked at him, signaling for him not to worry.

Gu Ning’s logic wasn’t complicated: he figured that in broad daylight, those two wouldn’t dare do anything to Lin Luo. And if they did, he was right there to call the police.