A Star Who Can Do Everything Except Filming (14): 

Fang Huai glanced at Zheng Shi, whose expression was twisted and frightening, then looked at the expressionless Chu Feng. Gritting his teeth, he turned to Si Qi and said, “I shouldn’t have made you sad…”

Si Qi raised his hand to cut off Fang Huai’s sentimental speech, blocking all his words in his throat, and said impatiently, “No need for those pretty words. I’m asking you, where do you think you were wrong?”

Fang Huai froze, looking at Si Qi in confusion. Other than this, what else could it be?

When he didn’t answer, Si Qi said for him, “You were wrong because you didn’t see clearly the relationship between me and Chu Feng, you didn’t anticipate my worth. So now, realizing your past mistake, you’ve come to apologize, isn’t that right?”

Fang Huai’s face fell, embarrassed. “How can you misunderstand me like this?”

Si Qi sneered. “Is this a misunderstanding? Didn’t you used to insist you were right, that your choice was the wisest? If you hadn’t realized how much Chu Feng loves me, would you be here?”

Fang Huai was dumbfounded and blurted out, “He loves you? Impossible! He doesn’t feel anything for you at all!”

The netizens, who had been quiet all this time, instantly exploded.

“Damn! What’s this guy trying to do?! Stir up trouble between 77 and General Chu right to their faces?!”

“Do you know that destroying a military marriage is a crime?”

“Go back and play your love-hate games with that shameless fiancée of yours. Stop messing with our 77!!”

“At first I thought he was trying to curry favor with General Chu by starting with Si Qi, but now it’s clear—he actually wants Si Qi himself!”

“Unbelievable. His fiancée is standing right there watching, and he still dares to flirt with someone else’s partner. I’m disgusted!”

Fang Huai’s words were like poking a hornet’s nest. Zheng Shi rushed up and slapped him across the face, hysterically pulling him away. “I warned you, you’re not allowed to talk to him!!”

Chu Feng also came to Si Qi’s side at the same time. His emotions weren’t as explosive as Zheng Shi’s—much more restrained—but anyone could see the anger simmering around him.

He said to Si Qi, “Don’t be angry.”

Si Qi snorted coldly. Without sparing a glance at the disheveled Fang Huai, he said to Chu Feng, “Someone like that isn’t worth my anger.”

He pulled Chu Feng away and added, “From the moment he asked me to go against you, I’ve hated him.”

Chu Feng’s eyes flickered.

Si Qi wasn’t angry about his boyfriend’s supposed infidelity, but because Fang Huai tried to hurt Chu Feng. During the earlier Q&A, Si Qi had also shown he knew everything about him… Could it be that even before he approached Si Qi, Si Qi had already been paying close attention to him?

Does this mean that in Si Qi’s heart, he wasn’t just a patient in need of saving, but someone he had admired for a long time, someone he already liked? Was that why Si Qi so eagerly signed the marriage application back then, perhaps because…

While he was still thinking, Si Qi said to Chu Feng, “But… is our relationship really so bad that even an outsider would think we don’t care about each other?”

Chu Feng froze for a moment, unsure how to answer.

The ever-watchful netizens quickly chimed in:

“No, no! You two are super sweet!”

“Seriously, just standing together, every glance between you makes my heart race—better than any romance drama!”

“When you really love someone, you can tell just by their eyes!”

“General Chu’s gaze never leaves you, he definitely loves you! 77, don’t worry!”

The online comments were one-sided, but Chu Feng didn’t know that. Suddenly hearing Si Qi’s almost-accusatory words, he felt guilty. In his eyes, he hadn’t done anything for Si Qi at all—though the reason he agreed to join the show was to clear Si Qi’s name online, to prove to everyone that being with him wasn’t about power, but because he truly loved Si Qi.

Now, hearing Si Qi’s complaint, Chu Feng grew anxious. “I—I’m not… I really do like you.”

The netizens widened their eyes, covering their mouths as waves of shrieks echoed in their hearts.

Ahhhh, Si Qi is too good! Just one casual line, and General Chu confessed out loud. Good job!

Si Qi snorted. “Plenty of people like me. I’m tired of hearing it.”

Chu Feng parted his lips, regret flashing in his eyes.

“Then how should I prove it? Do you like sports cars? Or gaming consoles? Whatever you like, I’ll buy it for you…”

If his mental power hadn’t been damaged, he could’ve extended it to Si Qi, letting him feel his most genuine love, letting him believe.

But now…

The netizens burst into laughter.

“General Chu is way too pure. He doesn’t even know how to say romantic words?”

“Pfft, don’t tell me Si Qi is his first love? He’s so awkward!”

“Tsk tsk, looks like even I’m better at this than General Chu! Suddenly feeling confident!”

Sure enough, after Chu Feng said this, Si Qi rolled his eyes and said, “We’re already married. What’s mine is yours. What difference does it make if you buy it for me or I buy it myself?”

The chat instantly blew up:

“Holy crap?! They’re already married?!”

“I thought they just started dating!!”

“Wow, I was worried about their future, whether Si Qi could join the Chu family smoothly. Now it’s clear—they’re already tied together!”

“Ahhhhh I’m so excited!!”

Chu Feng thought for a moment. “Then… I’ll take you traveling. I’ll show you the most beautiful sights I’ve seen. I’ll give you all my time—that’s my most precious gift.”

Si Qi’s eyes widened, turning to look at him, his heart racing.

Damn it. Every time they fall in love again, Chu Feng always manages to fluster him.

“W-who wants your time. But since you’re so sincere, even though I’m busy, I can reluctantly spare some time to keep you company.”

“Hahaha, he’s blushing!” the audience laughed.

“Si Qi is the perfect mix of sharp tongue and soft heart—strong as hell but can’t resist sweetness!”

“This is what they call a natural counter to tsunderes! General Chu ignores the ‘tsun’ part and goes straight at him with heartfelt words, leaving only the ‘dere’ behind.”

“I love watching them interact, it’s killing me with sweetness.”

Chu Feng could see Si Qi wavering. His suspicion grew clearer—Si Qi really did like him. It wasn’t just out of duty or pity that he agreed to marry him.

But remembering Fang Huai’s words to Si Qi earlier, thinking that Fang Huai might try to win him back, a crushing urgency weighed on Chu Feng’s chest.

Before, he had thought Fang Huai was nothing but a clown, and for the sake of being one of his few blood relatives, he hadn’t planned to really act against that father-son pair.

But now…

Chu Feng’s eyes turned icy. He cast a distant look at Fang Huai, who was still quarreling with Zheng Shi. His cold expression made even viewers in front of their screens shiver instinctively.

“Hiss, General Chu is angry. I’ve never seen him lose his temper in public before.”

“Trying to steal his partner right in front of him, of course he’s mad.”

“If it were me, I wouldn’t be as restrained as General Chu. I’d have punched him already.”

“And really, does that spoiled rich brat Fang Huai even deserve it? Standing next to Si Qi, he looks totally out of place. Where does he get the courage?”

Fang Huai’s attempt at reconciliation fell flat. Not only did he fail to gain Si Qi’s “forgiveness,” he got slapped by Zheng Shi and scolded by the audience, leaving him humiliated and disheveled.

The funny part was, after the “breakup,” the original Si Qi kept humiliating himself by obeying Fang Huai’s every demand, solving his biggest problems, and in the end, once he was no longer useful, was discarded like trash.

Now, with Si Qi’s arrival, he hadn’t given Fang Huai a single kind word, making him lose face at every turn, deliberately doing the opposite of what he wanted—and yet Fang Huai now clung to him desperately, regretting ever abandoning him.

How pathetic.

Si Qi stood there lost in thought, while Chu Feng, holding the prepared ingredients, asked him, “Can you eat spicy food?”

Si Qi nodded. “A little.”

Chu Feng looked at the others. “What about you?”

Everyone quickly responded: “We’ll eat whatever you cook!”

“I’m not picky!”

Chu Feng turned back to Si Qi. “There’s oil smoke here. You should rest to the side.”

Si Qi raised his chin proudly. “If it doesn’t taste good, I won’t eat it. My stomach’s really picky!”

As he spoke, he tentatively extended his mental power, only for it to be caught by Chu Feng’s spiritual sea.

Feeling the hungry craving within, Chu Feng chuckled. “Really not going to eat?”

Si Qi: “…”

He muttered under his breath, “I’ll force myself to eat a little. After all, in a place like this, I need to save up energy…”

His sulky expression after being caught off guard was so adorably silly that many netizens quickly took screenshots, turning them into memes with all kinds of captions. The more he thought about it, the more justified he felt. Si Qi raised his head, put his hands on his hips, and declared righteously, “Yes, I’m eating more for the sake of team unity, so I won’t drag everyone down! It’s absolutely not because I want to eat your cooking!”

Professor Bai and the others couldn’t help but snicker: The dish isn’t even cooked yet, and you’re already sure you’ll eat a lot? And you say you don’t want it!

Chu Feng also chuckled, glancing at the proud young man who looked as if he had just won a battle. Turning back, he tossed the pre-cut pork belly into the hot wok, where it sizzled with a sharp hiss.

As the pork belly was heated, it turned from white to golden brown, slowly releasing golden oil. Chu Feng poured in the diced meat from the side and stir-fried it gently. In just over twenty minutes, he had produced six home-style dishes that looked quite decent.

Because the ingredients were relatively plentiful, each dish was made in generous portions. Even though most of the guests present were young and strong, the sight of so much food left them a little stunned.

So much—could they really finish it?

With this thought in mind, they all sat down. The female doctor brought out eight bowls of rice, smiling as she served them, saying how fortunate it was that the production team hadn’t gone so far as to make them prepare even the staple food themselves.

Everyone picked up their chopsticks, their faces brimming with excitement as they stared at the dishes before them, already imagining how unforgettable General Chu’s cooking must taste.

The male warrior accepted his rice bowl calmly. Unlike the other guests who had always lived in cities, his work often took him into the wilderness. He had long since stopped expecting much from food found in such places.

After all, without seasoning—no salt, sugar, soy sauce, or MSG—whatever was cooked usually ended up plain, dull, and rough. Hardly worth anticipating.

He silently prepared some words in his head, ready to speak up and smooth things over when everyone was inevitably disappointed, so Chu Feng wouldn’t feel embarrassed.

But as soon as the others put food into their mouths, the next second their eyes lit up in astonishment. Their jaws worked rapidly as they chewed, unable to hide their amazement. The warrior frowned in doubt. Impossible—was the halo of idol worship really so strong that even plain food could taste delicious?

With that thought, he picked up a piece of diced meat with his chopsticks and put it into his mouth.

The stir-fried meat was a light golden brown, crispy outside yet tender and springy within, cooked to perfection. Paired with rice, the rich aroma instantly filled his mouth—so flavorful it was almost unreal!

In a blink, a wave of hunger surged from his stomach, overwhelming his mind. His jaw moved faster without him realizing, swallowing the food in no time, and his hand automatically reached for more.

This time he tried pork bone stewed with mushrooms. The mushrooms burst with juice at the first bite, and the stir-fried meat had been boiled soft and tender, melting in the mouth. The rich broth was so savory it made one doubt reality itself.

The guests who had been laughing and joking a moment ago now fell completely silent, eating like starved refugees clutching their rice bowls, shoveling food down greedily. Their ravenous yet satisfied expressions made the viewers at home hungry just watching.

“I couldn’t resist opening the food delivery app…”

“Who would’ve thought a survival show could make me this hungry?”

“Just how delicious is General Chu’s cooking? They’re eating so much they can’t even talk.”

“Ugh, I’m so jealous of the guests. What luck they have.”

“Can’t they pause for a second and tell us what it actually tastes like?! (going crazy)”

The heaps of food dwindled visibly, the bottoms of the plates showing through. By the time the guests realized it, every dish had been scraped clean, and even the bowls of rice were empty.

They held their empty bowls in bewilderment, staring at the bare plates with a sense of loss. After a long while someone said, “I feel like I only took two bites.”

“General Chu’s cooking really is incredible. Si Qi will be lucky at home.”

“Food after exercise really does taste the best!”

Everyone smacked their lips, savoring the aftertaste.

The director, seeing the viewers demanding to know just how delicious the food was, kindly relayed their questions.

The lawyer thought a moment and said, “Honestly, it just tastes like home cooking.”

“No fancy tricks, just delicious. Purely delicious.”

“Each dish brings out the most essential, natural flavors of the meat and vegetables, a simple yet perfect kind of taste.”

The others nodded in agreement. “Exactly, just purely good.”

The audience was consumed with envy. Luckily it was a livestream—later they could watch the recording and maybe recreate the dishes step by step. Perhaps then they too could taste General Chu’s home-style cooking.

The meal left everyone content and full. They leaned back, rubbing their stomachs, gazing up at the starry sky that had appeared unnoticed overhead. Surrounded by the primeval forest, their spirits felt utterly refreshed.

Seeing their state, the director suggested at the right moment, “Since fate has brought us together today, and you’ve all gotten to know each other, why not take this chance to show off some talents?”

The warrior laughed. “I’m a rough guy, no talent here. Put me on stage and I’m just a post.”

The female doctor blushed. “I don’t have much artistic sense either… even my singing is off-key.”

Si Qi suddenly interjected, “What a coincidence, same here.”

Everyone burst into laughter.

Seeing no one covering for him, Si Qi got annoyed. “Even if I sing off-key, it still sounds good!”

The lawyer said, “Si Qi can sing, and I can play piano. But we don’t have instruments here, so I guess that’s out.”

The director replied, “Don’t worry, we always have a car nearby, with everything you need.”

The lawyer nodded gracefully. “Then I’ll accompany Si Qi later.”

Si Qi: “……”

He glanced away guiltily, then quickly looked back, feigning confidence. “Actually, I’m even better at violin.”

The lawyer blinked. “Didn’t know you had that skill.”

Si Qi puffed out his chest proudly. “I’m versatile!”

The lawyer chuckled and nodded. “Alright, then I’ll listen carefully.”

The instruments were quickly brought over. The lawyer asked, “What music should we play?”

“Of course, one of my songs! My songs are amazing!” Si Qi declared.

As a top star, any song of his was well-known, the kind that played everywhere, from streets to shops.

The lawyer couldn’t help laughing, thinking, of course he’d say that. He told the director, “Then please prepare two copies of the sheet music.”

Si Qi waved dismissively. “One copy’s enough. I know my own songs by heart.”

The lawyer gently reminded him, “Singing and playing are pretty different…”

Even pianists who had practiced a piece hundreds of times often needed sheet music on stage—it was really hard to memorize.

Si Qi snorted. “If my singing sounds bad, that’s a matter of skill. But whether I memorize it or not is about attitude. You can say my skill isn’t enough, but you can’t say I lack dedication. I’ve always taken my career seriously!”

Fans quickly chimed in online: “That’s right! 77 might sing off-key, but he’s super professional when it comes to work!”

Bystanders almost died laughing: “Did you all just openly admit your idol sings off-key?”

“Never seen such a straightforward idol-fan relationship.”

“Now I don’t even think Si Qi’s off-key singing is a flaw—it’s actually kind of adorable!”

Si Qi said, “Since it’s nighttime, I’ll pick something gentle… hmm, how about ‘Summer.’”

The director soon printed the sheet music for the lawyer. After a quick discussion, they divided the parts.

Knowing the lawyer had just gotten the score, Si Qi gave him the simplest section, less prone to mistakes. After going over it mentally, the lawyer nodded confidently. They sat down by the fire, a little apart.

The warm yellow firelight lit their faces. Wood crackled softly, insects murmured in the forest, and moonlight bathed the land. Everyone watched the pair in silence.

Soon, light piano notes fell like raindrops, their lively rhythm easing everyone’s mood, bringing smiles to their faces.

Seeing this, Si Qi thought it was the perfect moment. Quietly, he infused his spiritual power into the violin’s voice.

The graceful notes blended with the melody, calm yet passionate, like the coolest breeze of a summer night, carrying everyone into its serenity.

Leaning back in their chairs, they imagined a scene in their minds: a plate of sliced watermelon beside them, the croak of frogs and chirping cicadas in the distance, an endless starry sky overhead. A breeze stirred the wind chimes hanging under the eaves.

Ding-ling—the memories of summer stirred, freshness wrapping around their bodies, their minds filled with nothing but ease and relaxation.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the planet, in a crowded bus, office workers stood wearily in the aisle, frowning as nearby girls chattered about idols.

Work stress and the unpleasant environment weighed on their expressions, leaving them drained and irritable.

Suddenly, a gentle melody flowed from a phone speaker, like a refreshing spring breeze slipping into their ears and minds, sweeping away the gnawing frustration.

For a moment, they felt transported to a summer forest, saw streams winding, smelled wild grass and earth. Sunlight poured down, clouds drifted across their eyes, mountains and mist spread before them, the world vast beyond imagination.

Unknowingly, their furrowed brows relaxed, their faces softened, irritability vanished. A glimmer of light appeared in their eyes, their expressions eased, and even the corners of their lips lifted into a faint smile.

The voices inside the car had vanished at some unknown moment. Everyone subconsciously listened to the flowing music. Even after the melody ended, no one spoke for a long while.

In a residential building, a heartbroken woman had taken leave from work and stayed at home, choosing to distract herself by watching variety shows. Her numb expression changed mechanically along with the program, as though by not thinking, she could numb the fragile nerve that at any moment might collapse into tears.

Yet the instant the piano began, gentle emotions wrapped around her heart like a spring of water. She was like a traveler in the depths of winter, unable to find shelter, suddenly being embraced in a tender hug. An invisible hand stroked the top of her head, as if saying, “Everything will pass.” Her emotions lost control in that instant, like a flood bursting through a dam. She curled up on her bed, clutching her phone, and wept with heartbreaking sobs. Her long-suppressed feelings finally found release.

At the same time, all over the world, people burdened by work, family, or school, constantly under immense pressure, unable to sleep properly for months on end, found themselves clutching their phones—and then, unknowingly, drifting into sleep.

The music by their ears accompanied them into dreams. That night, for once, they had a good dream.

The next morning, as they woke to the bright sunlight, they stretched and discovered their moods were better than they had ever been. With light steps and genuine smiles on their lips, even when facing the usual stifling troubles of life, they no longer felt so irritable.

They had no idea why this was, and simply assumed they had suddenly figured things out. Until, in their spare time, they opened that familiar livestream room again. The screen was flooded with comments:
“Last night I fell asleep listening to the stream! When I woke up, my whole body felt so relaxed!”
“I was so nervous about finals that I hadn’t slept properly for days. But last night I fell asleep around eight, slept straight through to morning, and did better than ever on today’s exam!!”
“This music is magical!”

The delayed feedback, fermented through the night, finally exploded in the morning.

Professor Bai also awoke, feeling lighter than ever, with no trace of the fatigue from yesterday’s long journey.

He opened the tent and saw General Chu and Si Qi preparing breakfast together. With a knowing smile, he quietly went to fetch water and make a fire, readying warm water for everyone to wash with.

“Morning.” The female doctor came out of her tent and greeted him with a smile. “Did you sleep well?”

“Better than ever,” Bai replied with a smile. “I thought I wouldn’t be able to sleep, but instead I had a rare good dream.”

The doctor widened her eyes in surprise. “What a coincidence! So did I!”

She had expected the simple mat in the tent to be uncomfortable, yet she had slept soundly until morning, and woke with an unprecedentedly clear mood.

“Could it be that living in the forest just makes people happier?” she joked. “I suddenly envy the soldiers stationed at the border.”

“It has nothing to do with where you live.” A warrior walked out of his tent behind her. “When I sleep outdoors, I’m always tense and hardly rest at all. The soldiers stationed for long years outside have it even worse.”

The doctor, sensitive to anything related to medicine, frowned in thought. “That’s true. I used to think I’d never dare to sleep soundly outside… then what is this about?”

Professor Bai said, “Maybe because you know General Chu is here, so you feel safe?”

Yawning as he came out, the lawyer added casually, “Or maybe because last night we had a full meal and listened to soothing music, so everyone relaxed?”

The doctor’s eyes lit up. “That could be it! Isn’t it said that music helps relax emotions and release stress?”

“When you’re in a good mood, sleep improves, and your spirit is more relaxed overall.”

The lawyer smiled. “But don’t give me the credit. I’m only an amateur. Si Qi was the one holding everything together—he played all the music last night by himself.”

Everyone looked toward Si Qi in the distance. He, unaware of their conversation, was smiling warmly at Chu Feng.

“You fell asleep so early last night,” Si Qi said softly.

“Mm.”

Si Qi leaned close, distracting Chu without meaning to.

“I was lying right beside you, yet you slept so soundly. Seems like you don’t care about me at all. I have no charm in your eyes.”

“It’s not like that—” Chu hurried to explain.

Si Qi gave him a wounded look. “Only when you’re next to someone you like do you get too nervous to sleep. Do you know how I spent last night?”

Chu stiffened, instinctively asking, “How did you…?”

Si Qi gazed at him, half-smiling. “What do you think? Do you want me to have sweet dreams, or do you want me tossing and turning all night?”

Chu: “……”

How could he answer that?

Si Qi leaned closer, his lips brushing Chu’s ear, his warm breath grazing against it as he whispered, “Next time… just watch me fall asleep yourself, then you’ll know.”

A shiver of electricity shot through Chu’s nerves, followed by heat flooding his body.

Watching Si Qi fall asleep…

Chu’s ears flushed red as he met Si Qi’s smiling eyes. His heart pounded wildly, stolen away by the young man’s beauty.

Si Qi chuckled softly, his voice like a feather teasing Chu’s heart.

Chu swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, eyes drawn into Si Qi’s gaze as though being pulled in.

Worse still, Si Qi’s spiritual tendrils were brushing against his, probing, touching, breaking through his fragile defenses—about to be welcomed as a new guest in his inner world.

Around them, the other guests woke and began preparing breakfast together.

As they ate, the conversation naturally turned to the good dreams of last night, and then to Si Qi’s “concert.”

When someone joked that maybe the music had relaxed everyone enough to dream well, Si Qi declared, “Of course it was the music! My music is better than any mental massage.”

Everyone was used to his “narcissism,” and laughed it off.

But some people, suffering serious insomnia and heavy stress, had actually recorded his entire half-hour performance, planning to keep it as their nightly lullaby.

Some of these people were self-treating; some also saw therapists regularly. One patient even mentioned it during a session, proudly playing the recording in the consultation room.

In this world, mental clinics did not only treat psychological issues, but also problems of spiritual power.

The two overlapped, differing only in severity. Mild issues could be eased with therapy, medication, or travel. Severe cases required complex spiritual treatments, beyond physical means.

For this reason, therapists usually had strong spiritual power themselves, so they could intervene when patients’ spiritual energies went awry, instead of being overwhelmed by them.

As the recording played, the flowing piano notes filled the room. The doctor thought it was indeed a pleasant, relaxing tune, good for sleep.

But it was still just an ordinary piece of music—hardly something that could produce the extraordinary results the patient described.

Then, a violin joined in, weaving into the piano’s melody. The patient sighed contentedly, sinking into the soft couch. The doctor, watching closely, suddenly saw the patient’s spiritual sea ripple like a swing—gentle, soothing, and joyful.

The doctor’s eyes widened. “……???”

Unable to resist, he asked where the music came from, why it felt so… unusual.

Meanwhile, perched on a wooden stool, Si Qi was bragging shamelessly: “My playing? Unmatched! I can make people happy or sad, laugh or cry, all at my fingertips!”

The others, eating breakfast, laughed at his confidence, humoring him with “Yes, yes, exactly,” without taking him seriously.

Si Qi nodded solemnly, nose in the air. “As long as you know,” he said, before plucking a berry from the fruit plate and popping it into his mouth.

The audience found it hilarious, never imagining that just a few hours later, this music would unleash such terrifying power.