The Entire Entertainment Industry Knows the Best Actor Has a Crush on Me - Chapter 36

When a whole cart of farm manure was pulled in front of the group, everyone’s expression was quite spectacular. Two villagers hopped down, not only bringing the necessary tools but also thoughtfully demonstrating the process for the guests. Once they were sure everyone understood, they climbed onto the back of the truck and began unloading the waste.

The director clapped his hands to draw attention, speaking cheerfully: “The villagers have brought the fertilizer for us, but as for the water, the guests need to go to the nearby well to draw it yourselves. Since the number of members in each group is inconsistent, for the sake of fairness, the three-person group needs to draw water twice for each of the other two groups~”

Sounds easy, right? But what if it’s a waist-high, super oversized heavy bucket?

Not only would the other two groups get a head start because of this, but they also wouldn’t have to worry about follow-up water issues. Meanwhile, the three-person group would be a step behind and still have to draw water for themselves later. It was a double waste of time.

Still, the other guests weren’t exactly happy either, offering forced smiles at the manure truck. [Expletive] stupid production team!!!

Qiao Zhiyu proactively took on the task of fertilizing, while Yuanzi followed behind to water. Even so, she was nearly overwhelmed by the stench. Yuanzi held her breath and said with difficulty, “Zhiyu, you are a true warrior. Your little sister is following your lead from now on!”

Qiao Zhiyu kept his head down and worked hard, acting as if he couldn’t smell the odor at all. He carried the fertilizer bucket in one hand and used a shovel with the other. Tight muscle lines appeared on his fair, lean arms.

“This manure has likely been dried in the sun; the smell is much lighter already. Do you want to take a break to catch your breath?”

Yuanzi shook her head vigorously, indicating she was fine. She muttered to herself, “Even dried, the smell is this strong. This cow was quite a character.” “Ah, a ‘cow-aracter’.”

Qiao Zhiyu was amused by her pun. The two chatted while working, and Yuanzi gradually adapted. Song Yuanjia passed by while transporting water, glanced at the two laughing together, and pushed his heavy bucket away.

Although drawing water wasted time for the third team, they were still the first to finish. There was no helping it; having more people truly meant faster work, which a few buckets of water couldn’t offset. Everyone accepted the result graciously.

On the way back, the director announced over the walkie-talkie that the third group was the winner. “Remember, each person only gets one request. It must revolve around the show and the guests, and it can’t be too excessive.”

Bai Di was about to speak but was stopped by Zhao Yunxiao. The latter asked, “Is this request valid until the end of the recording?” “Yes…” “Then I choose to save mine.” He looked at his two teammates. “What about you?” Song Yuanjia said he had no ideas for now and chose to save it. Bai Di hesitated but followed suit. The director’s mouth twitched; he was terrified they were saving up for one giant “prank” at the end.

Dinner consisted of roasted potatoes. The group gathered around the stove, listening to the occasional “pop” from within as they chatted and ate. Qiao Zhiyu’s reactions throughout were normal; he didn’t go out of his way to hide, but he didn’t initiate conversation with Song Yuanjia either. He was well aware that every move was being monitored by cameras, and he drew a clear line between professional and private life.

Perhaps an afternoon of work had desensitized him? The initial discomfort had lessened significantly. However, from lunch until now, the two of them hadn’t exchanged more than ten sentences.

Zhao Yunxiao poked a potato, and once sure it was cooked, he handed it to Qiao Zhiyu first. “Zhiyu, eat first. I can’t stand seeing a kid hungry until they’re skin and bones. If my kid ever gets this thin, I’ll cut my own throat to feed him!”

Qiao Zhiyu laughed and took it, but it was so hot he had to toss it between his hands before it eventually fell to the ground. The potato rolled and stopped at Song Yuanjia’s feet. The latter picked it up, thoughtfully broke it in two, and used a paper towel as a pad for him.

Qiao Zhiyu stared at the steaming potato in his palm and whispered a thank you. Song Yuanjia said, “You’re welcome. I haven’t had a chance to properly say hello to you all afternoon. Congratulations on the endorsement’s success.” “Thank you. It wasn’t just my own credit…”

Hong Yu looked at the two of them. “You guys know each other?” “Mhm…” Qiao Zhiyu squeezed the potato. “Met at an event.” Rather than being evasive, he chose to admit it openly. “Yes,” Song Yuanjia added, “but Zhiyu was busy filming afterward, so we didn’t stay in touch much. I didn’t expect to run into him here.” Hong Yu joked, “Then you two really have fate.” Song Yuanjia smiled. “I think so too.”

Qiao Zhiyu cooperated with a smile, showing no flaws for the camera. Then, he acted as if he were focusing entirely on his potato and stopped talking. After dinner, everyone returned to their rooms. The courtyard was large enough for seven people to have their own space, avoiding any awkward roommate situations.

Qiao Zhiyu lay on the bed. He couldn’t tell if his restlessness was caused by the hot potato or the hot weather. The recording would last until Friday night; he still had two days to go. He sighed and turned over, forcing himself to sleep.

Because they were short on ingredients for cooking, Qiao Zhiyu was sent to trade items with the villagers. The rules stated that daily food must be self-produced or bartered. Song Yuanjia was sent with him.

Perhaps wanting the two newcomers to familiarize themselves with the area, the other guests decided they should go together. Neither said much, though Song Yuanjia took the lead in talking.

“Have you been busy lately, Zhiyu?” “Very busy for a while. I was running around for work,” Qiao Zhiyu replied. “I see. No wonder you didn’t really reply to messages.” Qiao Zhiyu pursed his lips imperceptibly. “Sorry… I was filming during that time.” “Oh, I didn’t mean anything by it. No need to apologize.”

The conversation was clearly about to hit a dead end. Since the camera was following them, Qiao Zhiyu decided to keep it going. “What about you? How have you been lately?” Song Yuanjia pouted slightly, appearing uninterested in the topic. “Alright, I guess? Moving forward steadily.” “Just keep working hard,” Qiao Zhiyu replied casually.

In his past life, Song Yuanjia’s acting was top-tier. Even if he hadn’t won Best Actor, he had won many other awards. But that was before Qiao Zhiyu died; he didn’t know what happened after. He knew Song Yuanjia would have an easier time if he changed companies, but Qiao Zhiyu wouldn’t say a word. Facing a cheating ex-boyfriend even if it was from a past life he had no kindness left to offer as a reminder.

The pain from his previous life was real. People change. The 20-year-old Song Yuanjia and the nearly 40-year-old Song Yuanjia were different people. The same applied to Qiao Zhiyu. Both had ambition, but Qiao would restrain himself for certain things, whereas the other wouldn’t. Ambition grows when left unsatisfied; people change in that state of perpetual discontent.

Ambition isn’t a crime, but it can lead people to do the wrong thing. Qiao Zhiyu couldn’t deny that perhaps the current Song Yuanjia was still “good.” That is the nature of the human heart and time.

This was why he was afraid. He didn’t dare face Pei Yuan’s feelings. If it all ended in a hollow victory again, was it worth trying? At least they could be friends now.

But Gu Jiao’s words had reminded him. They made him realize he wouldn’t get another chance at rebirth, nor would he encounter another Pei Yuan. In his past life, he had made the man wait for many reasons; should he do the same in this one?

Qiao Zhiyu knew the truth; he was simply afraid to face it. He was afraid to face the fact that in both his past life and this one, Pei Yuan loved him.

He was brave enough to face death, yet too cowardly to face love. Perhaps Qiao Zhiyu was a stray cat—the kind that needed a vast amount of love or perhaps he was just a resilient blade of grass that only needed a little water to grow strong.