Chapter Twelve: The Broadcast Begins!

The livestream started and ended swiftly, and Lin Ze paid no heed to whether people were still discussing him. He clarified what needed to be clarified and then ended the broadcast, leaving a crowd in the chat staring blankly at each other.

That evening, after Lin Ze and Su Zitan returned to their hotel, they compiled a nine-photo collage from their stroll and posted it online. Lin Ze also sent a solo post to the young man who sang his song: “Nice performance.”

Early the next morning, a young employee from Zitan’s boutique arrived outside the hotel with a large suitcase. Inside were the clothes Lin Ze and Su Zitan would wear throughout the week.

Today, both wore outfits in shades of blue, adorned with delicate handmade embroidery, giving them a fresh and vibrant appearance. After a light lunch in the hotel, they boarded the show’s van.

Tong County was about forty or fifty kilometers from the city, barely an hour’s drive. By half past three, Lin Ze and Su Zitan arrived at the outskirts of the village.

Lin Ze was roused from his slumber by Su Zitan, lifting his head groggily as Xiao Qian picked up the camera.

“Lin, the other two pairs of guests have already arrived. From the moment we step out, the livestream begins. We need to hand our phones to the crew first.”

“Alright, alright,” Lin Ze mumbled, fishing out his phone. Before handing it over, he sent out a quick post: “Ready, the variety show is starting.”

This was a pre-broadcast; the official start would be after everyone gathered that evening.

After surrendering their phones, Lin Ze pulled Su Zitan from the car. Under the gaze of the cameras, Lin Ze stretched lazily.

“Let’s go!”

Many fans, seeing Lin Ze’s post, rushed to his Tigerfish livestream room, waiting fruitlessly for him to appear. Amid a flurry of confusion, someone reminded them it was the show’s official livestream room. Only then did the crowd find their way.

[Is the stream on? Wasn’t it supposed to start at five?]
[They’re probably prepping now, testing the equipment.]
[Zitan looks stunning! Wow, that skirt is gorgeous—where did she get it?]
[It’s from her own boutique, you fake fan.]

Lin Ze carried his large suitcase in one hand and held Su Zitan’s hand with the other as they walked toward the village.

“What are these?” Su Zitan asked, curious about the lush green leaves flanking the path.

“Corn,” Lin Ze replied, glancing at the fields. The corn had only just reached knee height, likely planted a month ago.

Su Zitan blinked in surprise. “How do you know?”

“I can even tell these fields haven’t been weeded yet,” Lin Ze said, peering over at the crops. “By the way, Xiao Qian, does Teacher Chen’s family own any land?”

Normally, the cameraman wouldn’t speak, but Qian Cheng received instructions through his earpiece. “Yes, Teacher Chen has two acres, still not fully weeded.”

“Zitan, do you think if I help Teacher Chen weed, he’ll recommend me for two acting roles?”

“Stop it!” Su Zitan covered Lin Ze’s mouth, laughing. “How can you ask someone for a role like that?”

The number of viewers in the livestream soared.

[Classic Lin Ze—always sincere.]
[Is this show still filming? Lin Ze is a plagiarist!]
[Let’s be rational, don’t spread rumors unless you know the facts.]

Lin Ze's fans were exceptionally level-headed, their comments sincere, making even the casual trolls feel awkward.

As the trio continued, they saw an old man standing by the edge of a field, placing a battered backpack on the path and struggling to climb up. The road was waist-high for him, and at his age, it was clearly a challenge.

“Hey, young man, give me a hand,” the old man called, waving toward Lin Ze.

“Alright!” Lin Ze hurried over and pulled him up effortlessly.

“You’re strong,” the old man said, brushing dirt from his hands.

Lin Ze looked at his face and couldn’t help but smile—his makeup was smudging.

“Well, sir, you’re quite elegant, coming out to play in the fields with makeup on…”

“Ah, Teacher Chen,” Su Zitan quickly pulled Lin Ze behind her and extended her hand graciously to the old man.

“Teacher Chen, it’s a pleasure. I’m Su Zitan. I grew up watching your dramas. Meeting you today is a dream come true.”

“Ha, nice to meet you,” Chen Weiguo wiped his hand on his clothes before shaking hers. “Is my makeup that obvious?”

His hands were covered in mud, deliberately applied. He observed their expressions as they shook hands, reassessing these two as being more approachable than he’d expected.

Lin Ze grinned and stepped forward. “Teacher Chen!”

“Sorry, Teacher Chen, I didn’t recognize you at first with your makeup. Actually, I grew up watching your shows, too.”

“Really? Then…” Chen Weiguo’s face turned serious. “Quick, name three dramas I starred in!”

Without hesitation, Lin Ze replied, “The Emperor of the Tang Dynasty, Fierce Generals of the Three Kingdoms, Born in the Courtyard!”

“You really watched!” Chen Weiguo moved to pat Lin Ze’s shoulder but hesitated, seeing the dirt on his hands.

“Come, I’ll take you home,” he said, slinging the battered backpack over his shoulder and leading the pair toward the village.

“I saw in the video—you seem to be a clean freak,” Chen Weiguo remarked offhandedly.

Lin Ze knew he referred to the infamous incident.

“Not really. I just knew you had mud on your hands, but I wasn’t sure if it was water…”

“Ha! How do you know it’s not cow dung?” Chen Weiguo teased, taking a few steps ahead.

The chat erupted with laughter.

Soon, they arrived at Chen Weiguo’s villa—a three-story building in traditional Chinese style, with lotus pots flanking the entrance.

On the porch steps sat a beautiful middle-aged woman, shelling beans. This was Bai Qiong, once an outstanding actress herself, who met Chen Weiguo through work; their relationship was famously strong.

“Oh, Lin Ze and Zitan, you’re here!” Bai Qiong tossed down the beans, wiped her hands on her apron, and hurried over to help with their luggage.

“No need, Teacher Bai. I’ll carry it myself,” Lin Ze insisted, hanging their belongings on himself.

“No need for formalities. Call him uncle, call me aunt,” Bai Qiong laughed, leading them upstairs to the guest room. “The top floor’s too hot. The second floor is just right.”

After settling their bags, Lin Ze and Su Zitan went downstairs.

Chen Weiguo looked at Lin Ze. “Do you know how to weed? Want to help me?”

“How can you ask guests to weed with you?” Bai Qiong scolded, hands on her hips, eyes glaring.

“It’s fine, Aunt Bai. Lin Ze just said he wanted to do something nice for you,” Su Zitan linked arms with Bai Qiong. “Let him go. I’ll help you pick vegetables.”

Lin Ze glanced at Chen Weiguo, who still hadn’t removed his makeup. “You’re not taking off your makeup? Then wait for me; I’ll put some on myself.”