Extra Three: How to Confess to Your Boyfriend That You Are Very Rich (Part Two)

Jiang Baiqing went to the kitchen, and Chen Chang’an, feeling bored, engaged in conversation with Xu Nana, trying to explore the rules. “If five gold coins are needed for ingredients, how many do we need to sleep? What about exercising?”

Xu Nana blinked. “You can just sleep directly; sleeping doesn’t cost any gold coins.”

Chen Chang’an didn’t understand. “Sleeping doesn’t cost gold coins? Then why does eating cost gold coins?”

“Eating doesn’t cost gold coins either; you can eat if you want,” Xu Nana replied with a smile.

Chen Chang’an was dumbfounded. “Then why did you just ask us for gold coins?”

“That was for the cost of ingredients, not for eating,” Xu Nana revealed, “Our production team wouldn’t charge for meals; that would be too stingy.”

“Alright, alright…” Chen Chang’an took a deep breath. “Then may I ask, if we want to sleep on the bed in the room, how many gold coins does that process require?”

Xu Nana counted on her fingers. “Rooms with beds are all on the second floor of the villa. Going up requires five gold coins; each room on the second floor has the same unlocking price, which is fifteen gold coins. In total, if you want to lie on the bed, you need twenty gold coins.”

“Is there a four-star task?” Chen Chang’an’s eyes darkened as he trembled and extended his hand. “Give me one.”

“How about a five-star task instead?” Xu Nana kindly suggested. “The rights to use the water and electricity in the room also require five gold coins to exchange.”

“…Then let’s go for a five-star task.” Just then, Jiang Baiqing came out of the kitchen with a dish. Upon seeing him, Chen Chang’an felt a surge of energy and couldn’t help but shout, “Brother Bai, help me!”

—

This time, it was Chen Chang’an who drew the task. Jiang Baiqing repeatedly asked him with concern, “How about I draw instead?”

Chen Chang’an coldly refused multiple times, saying solemnly, “I can’t let you do it. Based on my years of experience in the entertainment circle, if all the tasks are drawn by you, I will be scolded by the audience.”

So he walked up to the drawing tube and respectfully held out a stick.

Upon releasing it, it read—”Truth or Dare: Describe your emotional journey with the other person.”

“Why is a one-star task a dare, but a five-star task is a truth?” Yu Tiantian, who had just drawn a tongue twister of three thousand characters, looked at Chen Chang’an with tears in her eyes, filled with envy and jealousy.

“Truth for truth; sincerity is the rarest,” Xu Nana explained, wearing an expression that suggested “our production team is very harmonious.”

“Who believes that?” Chen Chang’an muttered under his breath. “It’s clearly because the truths are all juicy gossip, and the topics are more engaging.”

Hearing this, Jiang Baiqing’s lips curved into a smile, his tone reminiscent of coaxing a child. “You’re still the clever one.”

In fact, everyone else saw through it but chose not to say anything; only Chen Chang’an voiced everything.

Chen Chang’an glanced at the task again, cleared his throat, and just when everyone thought he was about to start telling a story, he seriously asked, “What is an emotional journey?”

“…It means how you felt while getting to know me,” Jiang Baiqing replied, slightly taken aback.

This wasn’t difficult. Chen Chang’an opened his mouth and said, “At first, I thought Teacher Jiang was very scary—oh no, I mean very dignified; after getting to know him, I thought Teacher Jiang seemed like a good person; now, I think Teacher Jiang is truly a great person.”

Jiang Baiqing, who had received two “good person cards” in a row, asked, “What else?”

“What else?” Chen Chang’an scratched his head. “That’s it.”

In fact, he thought to himself: I won’t spill the big secrets to the production team; they are too stingy.

Unexpectedly, this conversation, when captured by marketing accounts, turned into “Chen Chang’an gives Jiang Baiqing a good person card, and Jiang Baiqing wonders how long he will have unrequited love for Chen Chang’an.”

—

Regardless, Chen Chang’an’s seemingly empty words actually won them the right to sleep in a bed.

Fortunately, the production team still had some decency; the room they opened was a twin room, and there were cameras inside. Chen Chang’an saw Jiang Baiqing open the door and look at the two beds, letting out a regretful sigh.

Chen Chang’an pretended not to know, ignoring Jiang Baiqing’s questioning gaze, and walked in, happily exclaiming, “Great! There are actually two beds!”

Jiang Baiqing lowered his eyes, looking like a white lotus drenched in rain, pitiful and delicate.

Moments later, Yu Tiantian knocked on the door. “Sorry to interrupt, but would you two mind switching rooms with us?”

“What’s wrong?” Chen Chang’an still hadn’t realized the production team’s malicious intent.

“I heard you have a twin room, and we’ve opened the room next to yours,” Yu Tiantian said awkwardly, “…and then we found out it’s a king/queen size bedroom.”

Letting the male and female leads of an idol drama sleep in the same bed would probably land them at the top of the trending search tomorrow.

One could only say that the production team knew how to generate hype.

Chen Chang’an slapped his forehead and turned to Jiang Baiqing. “Should we switch?”

“Whatever you want,” Jiang Baiqing replied without a second thought.

Chen Chang’an turned to Yu Tiantian, and facing her pleading gaze, he couldn’t bring himself to say “no.”

Although Jiang Baiqing had said “whatever you want,” once they actually switched rooms, Jiang Baiqing’s smile never faded.

“Are you that happy?” Chen Chang’an muttered under his breath.

Jiang Baiqing looked pleased. “It’s become second nature; without you, I really wouldn’t sleep well.”

Sweet talk. Chen Chang’an rolled his eyes; Jiang Baiqing spent two-thirds of the year on set, yet there had been no news of the movie emperor suffering from insomnia while filming.

…But this month, they had indeed been sleeping together every day. If they were to sleep separately, Chen Chang’an would probably find it hard to adjust?

Realizing this, he sighed and led the cheerful movie emperor into the room.

“You just asked me, ‘Are you that happy?’ I don’t think I’ve answered you directly. I want to tell you, I really am very happy.” After they finished washing up and lay on the bed, Jiang Baiqing suddenly said softly, “Being with you, I’m happy doing anything.”

Chen Chang’an didn’t respond, turning over and wrapping himself up like a silkworm cocoon, but his ears betrayed him, turning red.

—

The next morning at eight o’clock, the production team coldly called all the guests to participate in the first activity.

“Still troubled by waking up early? Still wondering how to sleep in? Just pay ten gold coins, and you can experience the joy of canceling the production team’s wake-up service tomorrow!” Xu Nana clearly knew where everyone’s resentment was coming from. “Walk by, take a look, ten gold coins, you won’t lose out, you won’t be fooled!”

Chen Chang’an felt tempted. “So it’s only ten gold coins for two people?”

“What are you talking about? Of course, it’s ten for each person!” Xu Nana replied.

“Just as I thought.” Chen Chang’an gritted his teeth. “Stingy is just stingy.”

“Is it too expensive for you to pass?” Jiang Baiqing looked at him knowingly, helpless.

“Of course not! Sleep is more important than anything!” Chen Chang’an declared through gritted teeth, then looked up at Jiang Baiqing. “Brother Bai, you want to have a good night’s sleep too, right—”

Jiang Baiqing lowered his eyes. “I hope you can have a good night’s sleep.”

So the two of them began their journey to earn twenty gold coins.

“‘Truth: Name one thing about the other person that you can’t stand.’ Um.” Chen Chang’an paused for a moment. “You’re too good at cooking, which makes my culinary skills useless!”

“‘Truth: Name one thing you find most special about the other person.'” Jiang Baiqing answered without hesitation. “To me, everything about him is special.”

The comments flooded in: No married couples allowed to compete! That’s too unfair!

The two of them successfully completed the five-star question bank until Jiang Baiqing drew the last stick—an adventure task, the only one in the five-star question bank.

“This one, I can’t let you see.”

“It won’t be another kiss or hug, will it?” Chen Chang’an thought he had figured out the production team’s temperament. “It’s all physical contact, not pure at all, bad review!”

“This request is quite pure,” Jiang Baiqing said, unusually defending the production team.

“But you can’t tell me?” Chen Chang’an pressed on.

Jiang Baiqing affirmed, “Yes, I can’t tell you.”

Cursing the production team in his heart, Chen Chang’an resigned himself to taking a nap.

—

After waking up from his nap, Chen Chang’an found that he was the only one left in the entire villa, along with the filming crew.

“Not taking me out to play is too much!” he muttered, then began to guard the empty house.

He didn’t think Jiang Baiqing would leave him to go out, so he didn’t think much of it. With some spare gold coins in his pocket, he exchanged for a chance to open a small cinema and sat on a lazy sofa watching Jiang Baiqing’s old movies.

Jiang Baiqing had starred in many art films, some of which were too profound for Chen Chang’an to understand, but that didn’t stop him from watching and admiring his boyfriend’s face.

As Jiang Baiqing played a wandering swordsman executing a move called “Autumn Wind Sweeping the Leaves,” Chen Chang’an thought of how that hand, which held the sword’s hilt, had also held a spatula to make him fried rice.

After watching about a third of the film, Lu Renjia rushed in. “Brother Chang’an, so you were here! I finally found you!”

“What’s wrong?” Seeing his anxious expression, Chen Chang’an furrowed his brows, fearing something had happened to Jiang Baiqing. “Speak clearly.”

“…Ah, it’s hard to explain. Just come with me.”

After saying that, Lu Renjia turned and walked outside, leaving Chen Chang’an to follow him, confused.

The two of them walked through a small path behind the villa, and Chen Chang’an was still puzzled. “You aren’t planning to commit murder or smuggling, are you?”

“What kind of goods could you possibly have on you?” Lu Renjia glanced back.

“Then you aren’t planning to kidnap me to threaten Jiang Baiqing for money, are you?” Chen Chang’an asked cautiously. “Is your income legitimate?”

“Brother, I didn’t realize your imagination was so rich!” Lu Renjia found it amusing.

“I don’t have much imagination.” Chen Chang’an started to say but got stuck. “I usually can predict things like… like that.”

“Predict things like a god,” Lu Renjia helpfully completed.

Chen Chang’an awkwardly cleared his throat. “Right, I usually can predict things like a god.”

Pushing aside the corn stalks taller than a person, Chen Chang’an heard Jiang Baiqing’s voice, filled with laughter:

“Did you see this scene coming?”

—

Chen Chang’an estimated he would find it hard to forget such a sight for the rest of his life.

In the open field, a red carpet was laid out, creating a small gathering space. In front of him was a floral arch, and the surrounding fence was adorned with fluttering balloons and ribbons tied into bows. Jiang Baiqing stood in the center of the space, smiling at him, while others stood behind him, also smiling.

Chen Chang’an’s heart skipped a beat, and he pretended to be relaxed as he asked, “What is this? A rural leisure activity?”

“As you can see,” Jiang Baiqing glanced around, “this is a simple confession scene.”

Chen Chang’an could only repeat the key word in his sentence: “‘Confession’?”

“Yes, I owe you a formal confession.” Jiang Baiqing took out a stick from his pocket. “So I wanted to take this opportunity during the adventure to make it up to you—ironically, the content of the adventure is to confess to you.”

The adventure’s content was merely a confession, but Jiang Baiqing clearly didn’t treat it so casually; he had set up the venue, invited an audience, and carefully prepared such a surprise.

At that moment, the task itself was clearly no longer important; what mattered was hearing each other’s innermost voices.

As he placed the prepared ring on Chen Chang’an’s finger, Jiang Baiqing furrowed his brows, speaking clearly and powerfully: “Chen Chang’an, this is how much I like you.”

“I understand the reasoning, but why is the ring you gave me also a silver circle with a golden pig on top?”

Jiang Baiqing blinked sincerely. “I thought you would like this style.”

“…Alright.”

Chen Chang’an took a deep breath; in this world, one must eventually pay back what they owe.

Later, everyone saw that Chen Chang’an and the movie emperor had matching golden pig rings and helplessly sighed about why the couple looked so good together, yet their aesthetics were surprisingly poor—how could they be so consistently mismatched?

Chen Chang’an: Don’t ask; just know my eyes were hit by a cannon.

—

That night, after confessing on the show, Chen Chang’an had a dream. In the dream, there was nothing but a well-dressed man who called himself “Siming.”

Chen Chang’an thought to himself, this is bad; this person won’t be here to send me back to my original world, will he?

—What about Jiang Baiqing? If Jiang Baiqing knew he had disappeared, he would probably go crazy.

Chen Chang’an gritted his teeth and took the initiative to bring up the topic. “How can I stay in this world? As long as there’s a way, I’m willing to try anything.”

“What are you talking about? Aren’t you originally from this world?” Siming smiled reassuringly. “You are Chen Chang’an, and Chen Chang’an is you.”

Chen Chang’an was confused. “Huh? I am?”

Siming opened the book in his hand. “Ahem, do you feel like you’ve lost a part of your memory? You only vaguely remember being a background actor.”

Chen Chang’an nodded. “Yes.”

Siming was satisfied and continued to ask, “Do you often blurt out memories that you don’t have in your mind? And feel the change in the attitudes of those around you?”

Chen Chang’an nodded again. “Yes.”

“Do you have frequent urination, urgency, and incomplete urination—”

“…Huh?” Chen Chang’an slowly formed a question mark in his mind.

—

“Oops, sorry, I turned to the wrong page and flipped to the next chapter.” Siming checked and put away the book. “In simple terms, you were possessed by someone, and your personality changed drastically, targeting Jiang Baiqing. In the end, you fell into poverty and almost died on the street. Before you died, your senior from school, He Zhizhou, noticed something was wrong, triggering the fate system’s self-check, which made me aware of this situation. I managed to pull your soul back in time, but you had already drunk part of the Meng Po soup, so your memory became fuzzy. I reset the time to before you completely offended Jiang Baiqing and wrote your missing memories into a novel to help you absorb them—but this isn’t actually a novel; this is the real world, and you exist within it.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Chen Chang’an gritted his teeth.

“Ah, should I be more serious?” Siming belatedly changed his tone, adopting a solemn expression. “Mr. Chen Chang’an, I sincerely apologize for your experience. We have detected the ‘illiterate debuff’ and ‘poor acting debuff’ caused by your drinking the Meng Po soup, so we have compensated you with a ‘wealth buff,’ scientifically ensuring that although you are uneducated and have poor acting skills, at least you won’t starve to death.”

Chen Chang’an absorbed this part of knowledge with his already limited brain capacity and realized an important issue: being possessed was equivalent to a bug in a game, so as the maintenance personnel, shouldn’t Siming provide a compensation package?

He suddenly straightened his back, adopting the posture of a singing peasant: “I was possessed; shouldn’t you be responsible?”

Siming hesitated, stammering, “Well, theoretically, that’s the case…”

“But practically?” Chen Chang’an pressed.

“Practically… it’s also the case.”

Now Chen Chang’an had some confidence. “Then shouldn’t you provide compensation?”

With increased workload, Siming was extremely reluctant. “If you need it, I will compensate you within my capabilities.”

“I definitely need it!” Chen Chang’an quickly replied. “You all have made me suffer enough! Do you know what it means to be blacklisted online? I was originally just a carefree vase, and now I’m being scolded to pieces!”

“I’m sorry,” Siming replied dismissively. “Just tell me what you want.”

What service attitude! Chen Chang’an felt a headache coming on. “I want everyone’s memories to be modified so that they realize I’m innocent. Is that possible?”

“Well, um, ah.” Siming scratched his head. “One should be lenient; although you lost a part of your life that should have belonged to you, I’ve been working overtime for three days for your sake! Besides, the possessor did turn you into a big star, someone recognized by many people; isn’t that pretty good?”

Upon hearing this, Chen Chang’an got angry. “What ‘big star’? A ‘big star’ with more haters than fans?!”

“Don’t be angry; understanding is paramount, understanding is paramount,” Siming was very good at apologizing. “How about this: I’ll give you a newly developed fully intelligent simulation robot, let it enter the circle at the fastest speed as your rival, take on the things that aren’t even yours, and try to sow discord between you and Jiang Baiqing. After completing the task, it will apologize, exit the circle, and self-destruct without disturbing your life. How does that sound?”

“That robot of yours sounds very… ‘entertainment circle,'” Chen Chang’an could only say without finding the right adjective.

“Then it’s settled!” Siming, seeing that Chen Chang’an didn’t refuse, was very enthusiastic. “I’ll arrange it right away!”

“Wait, there’s one more important thing—” Chen Chang’an quickly grabbed Siming’s sleeve. “You also have to help me explain to my boyfriend! Otherwise, this matter will never be resolved!”

“Can’t you explain it yourself?”

Chen Chang’an was speechless. “Who would believe me that I was possessed and did bad things, and then the possession was taken back?!”

“I believe it,” Siming sincerely pointed to himself.

“Does your belief matter?” Chen Chang’an gritted his teeth. “You need to find a way to make my boyfriend believe this.”

“Oh, alright.” Siming nodded and snapped his fingers. “Okay, he knows now.”

“…Just like that? How did you do it?” The progress was too fast, leaving Chen Chang’an dumbfounded.

“I copied the footage of our conversation just now and directly transmitted it into his mind. As long as he wants, he can repeatedly watch it in memory form.”

Chen Chang’an was still astonished. “Our conversation actually has a recording.”

“Executing official duties, it’s essential to have cameras,” Siming blinked and quickly slipped away. “Your satisfaction is my greatest wish!”

Chen Chang’an thought: So, did Jiang Baiqing see me acting hysterically and haggling just now?

The author has something to say:

Chang’an (proudly): I’m not actually a bad actor! I just had a moment of madness!