The Love Reality Show's Big Boss and Little Sweetie - Chapter 41

“The prize money for the Fisherman’s Festival Championship has been increased to 500,000!” Xu Wuxing rushed into the living room holding a tablet. “Even I want to participate!”

“April Fool’s Day?” Mu Chi was confused. “Didn’t that pass long ago?”

“It’s ‘fisherman’ , not ‘fool’ !”

Mu Chi took the tablet and finally understood the origin of the competition.

The Fisherman’s Festival was a unique traditional festival of this town, originally meant to celebrate the fishermen’s harvest and give thanks to the sea. In the past, the most skilled fisherman would be selected from among the fishermen to be the festival organizer.

Back then, the championship theme was about which family caught the biggest fish. The top three families would receive prize money.

Later, people felt this method didn’t fully embody the meaning of “championship,” so it changed to a running race while carrying a basket of fish. Whoever could get their fish into the sea at the finish line first would win.

Later still, it evolved into a bicycle race. The winner would receive a large cash prize and a hundred jin of fish.

Only in recent years did it evolve into a car race. Besides the fluctuating prize money, fish was a guaranteed prize. Even just signing up to participate, the last-place finisher could get five jin of fish as a participation award.

“Last year’s championship prize was 50,000. Doubling it this year already had people eager, but now it’s multiplied by five directly…” Xu Wuxing’s eyes glistened with tears. “I can’t even earn that much from one concert.”

Not just Xu Wuxing, even Mu Chi wanted to participate. Looking at the number of registered participants on the webpage: 2024.

“…The 500,000 is destined to have nothing to do with me.” Mu Chi was deeply pained and resentful.

Then Qi Liao said calmly: “It’s only 500,000. I’ll win one for you as pocket money.”

Mu Chi: “Ah?”

Xu Wuxing: “Ah??”

Mu Chi reacted and was almost moved to tears. “Really?”

Xu Wuxing immediately went to hug his leg. “Brother Qi, Brother Qi, don’t I get any?”

Qi Liao had the spirit of robbing the rich to aid the poor: “You have money. Mu Chi doesn’t.”

“Actually, I’m not that rich either! Share some pocket money with me!”

[Xu Wuxing, your integrity has fallen!]

[Do you remember you’re the Demon King’s love rival?]

[The power of money makes the puppy wag its tail and beg.]

[Demon King, do you still need servants? I only want 10,000. I’ll serve you tea, water, make fire, wash your feet, let you hit and scold me for a month.]

[The corporate drone with a 3,000 salary sheds tears of envy.]

[Let me sign up! My family is struggling to put food on the table; even five jin of fish would be good.]

[An unemployed person went to try their luck. Damn, only locals can participate!]

Regarding this issue, Qi Liao had a solution—hand it over to his must-be-all-capable assistant to find a way to exploit loopholes.

In the end, the assistant didn’t really disappoint them. She went to the Fisherman’s Festival organizers, explained the situation, and got approved. What she didn’t know was that after she left, a green-haired guy emerged from the organizer’s office bathroom, letting out an evil weird laugh.

The assistant wasn’t stupid and reported this situation to Qi Liao.

Qi Liao said: “Where there’s abnormality, there must be a trick. Keep an eye on it.”

Assistant: “Young Master, I’m not a detective.”

“Then have the bodyguards keep watch, especially the race track.”

…

The small courtyard now housed Qi Liao’s flashy red sports car, making parking a bit of a problem.

Each household only had one parking space in front. Parking another car in the yard made it completely full. After consulting opinions, the production team decided to temporarily remove one of their SUVs to make space for Qi Liao’s sports car.

Incidentally, the production team installed a mailbox by the entrance with a lot of ding-dong noise. Everyone realized it was time to write love letters again.

Mu Chi was sure the director would still pick his letter, and only Qi Liao could decipher his handwriting. Hehehe…

After Qi Liao finished showering in his own room and went back, Mu Chi surreptitiously took out an envelope, cut it open, and under the dim yellow light of the desk lamp, within the old dark red window frame, surrounded by the scent of honeysuckle from the summer evening window, a black pen left a line of earnest writing on the snow-white paper—

“You are the mountain flower that never withers for me, fragrant through spring, summer, and autumn. In winter, I will treasure you in the softest soil of my heart, waiting for you to bloom again next year.”

“—Your loving Mu Chi.”

Having used up all his artistic cells in this original poem, the more Mu Chi looked at it, the more he felt he was overflowing with talent. He planted a big kiss on the poem, as if it were Qi Liao’s face.

After restoring the envelope to its original state, Mu Chi scribbled nonsense on the letter paper, mainly focusing on talking nonsense. Anyway, no one except Qi Liao could understand it.

The next day, the director’s first task was indeed to manipulate behind the scenes and “draw” Mu Chi’s love letter, even hypocritically saying, “It’s all fate’s will.”

He refused to believe Mu Chi could do things perfunctorily every time without revealing any flaw.

Qi Liao, as the reader, received the love letter. His gaze dropped, and sure enough, he saw writing inside the envelope. Deliberately avoiding the camera, he pulled out the letter paper.

Everyone took one look: “…” This was going too far. Was this just made by pressing a chicken claw on it?

Qi Liao also had to decipher for a good while before with difficulty reading it aloud: “Moved house, live on the second floor, surfing is super fun, the sea is pretty, sports car ride was cool…”

Director: Even an elementary school student’s diary is more coherent than this.

“In the evening,” Qi Liao suddenly paused, glanced at Mu Chi, who looked proper and seemingly innocent, and laughed in exasperation, “Qi Liao came to my room to shower. He has eight-pack abs, two long legs, and a big, bulging… certain part.”

Mu Chi: “…” He actually read it out loud?! He thought Qi Liao would skip that part or make something up.

[………………]

[I knew Mu Chi had ulterior motives letting Qi Liao use his shower!]

[The Little Demon King of the Great Demon King is really big, huh?]

[Actually, every time Qi Liao wears swim trunks, my eyes are drawn there. Is it okay to say that?]

[People’s hearts are yellow.jpg]

[Mu Chi dares to write it, the Demon King dares to read it.]

The director felt his anger subside: Now we have an explosive moment.

In the stifling silence, the camera focused on Hao Wenrou, who looked like he was about to petrify and crack.

Hao Wenrou stiffly turned his face away, said, “I’m going to bed,” and went upstairs.

Everyone looked at each other and scattered one after another. Before leaving, Xu Wuxing shot a resentful glance at Qi Liao, then looked down at his own not-yet-fully-developed small frame, speechless and choked up.

Only Mu Chi and Qi Liao were left, staring at each other.

Qi Liao expressionlessly confiscated the love letter and also went upstairs.

“…”

The day before the Fisherman’s Festival Championship, there was a rehearsal and the signing of a liability waiver—after all, racing is a dangerous sport. In case of an accident, the organizers still wanted to minimize their responsibility.

It’s similar to contracts for surgeries or bungee jumping.

Qi Liao originally didn’t want to attend the rehearsal. He never rehearsed for races; he wasn’t a monkey performing for others. But Mu Chi was overly worried and said it was better to familiarize himself with the track beforehand.

So Qi Liao, following the address provided by the organizers, took Mu Chi to the race venue.

The production team took this very seriously. If anything happened to Qi Liao, they would also bear some responsibility. So, with permission, they installed cameras inside the sports car and had camera crews and bodyguards following along the way.

The start and finish lines of the track were both on Pomegranate Island. Twenty participants were finally selected, divided into five groups of four. The winner of each group would advance to the finals.

Xia Yang had arrived early and rehearsed once with his group members. He hadn’t used his full strength, and neither had the others; the real skills would only be revealed tomorrow night. So he didn’t really like this kind of formalism either, but he had to participate.

He checked the list. Qi Liao was in Group E, the last group, together with the green-haired guy and his crew.

Xia Yang couldn’t help but frown. This arrangement was too coincidental.

The red sports car shot through the night like a ball of fire. As it approached, the organizer personally went to greet it, smiling very obsequiously: “Young Master Qi, you’ve finally arrived.”

Qi Liao was used to these hypocritical faces. He scanned the area, his gaze meeting Xia Yang’s briefly before moving away as if nothing happened. “Rehearsal over?”

“Yes. Would you like to take a lap yourself to try it out?”

Qi Liao got back into the car. Mu Chi hadn’t even gotten out. They drove into the starting point of the track. The ground seemed to have been freshly painted with white dashed lines, and there were fluorescent signs all along the way.

There were also cameras and flags made from fishing nets, indicating they hadn’t forgotten the roots of the Fisherman’s Festival.

Qi Liao didn’t drive very fast. The road wasn’t bumpy; it was very smooth. He had people keeping an eye on the place and hadn’t found anything abnormal. It seemed the loan sharks hadn’t made any moves yet.

After completing a lap, the organizer looked at the large screen monitoring the entire track, quite satisfied: “As expected of a professional racer. Very steady.”

Brother Tie sneered from the shadows. Green Hair, his number one lackey, immediately belittled him: “What professional racer? I think he’s not even as good as Xia Yang.”

Brother Tie said resentfully: “We absolutely cannot let him win, and we can’t let Xia Yang win either! Otherwise, my 500,000 will go down the drain!”

“Don’t worry, Brother Tie. Even if I have to risk my life, I’ll force him off the bridge into the sea during the race, show him what happens when he’s so arrogant—Ouch, my face still hurts.”

Brother Tie’s face also hurt a bit. “If you can’t do it, go sell your ass.”

Green Hair’s face went through a spectrum of colors, looking like he was about to vomit. “I can definitely do it!”

While they were muttering over there, Qi Liao didn’t even give them a glance, as if they were insignificant flies. On the way back, Xia Yang’s car followed not far behind.

When they reached the small courtyard, just as Qi Liao and Mu Chi got out of the car, they heard Xia Yang call out, “Hey!” Qi Liao was about to pretend he didn’t hear when Xia Yang added, “Brother Tie and his gang have ill intentions. You shouldn’t participate.”

By this time, the night was deep, starlight scattered over the mountains and sea. Qi Liao’s eyes looked at Xia Yang, yet seemed not to see him. “Why should I care if they die? I’m just earning some pocket money.”

Xia Yang: “…”

Qi Liao took Mu Chi’s hand and strode unrestrainedly into the small courtyard, closing the door to wash up and sleep.

Mu Chi pestered Qi Liao again, not letting him leave, with a particularly lame excuse: “Gege, you have a race tomorrow. I’m nervous on your behalf, I can’t sleep.”

Qi Liao deliberately teased him: “Then don’t sleep.”

Mu Chi froze for a second, his face slowly tinged with a faint red. “Then what would we do if we don’t sleep? Would it affect your race tomorrow?”

Qi Liao tapped his forehead. “Empty all the yellow thoughts out of your head. I’ll stay with you tonight if you do.”

Mu Chi said “Oh” and lay down side-by-side with Qi Liao. “Gege, are you really not nervous?”

“If I got nervous before every race, I’d have had a heart attack long ago.”

Mu Chi thought silently. “Then I won’t cheer for you?”

Qi Liao looked at him sideways. “My ‘fuel’ is very expensive. I don’t know if you can afford it.”

“Tell me.”

“…Better not.”

Mu Chi wouldn’t let go of such a good opportunity. He poked Qi Liao’s side. “Tell me. I can definitely do it.”

Qi Liao’s waist felt a bit hot, the warmth flowing down to his lower abdomen. “Recite the love letter you wrote to me.”

“What?”

“The one inside the envelope.”

Mu Ch suddenly sat up, his eyes staring straight ahead. “Y-you discovered it?”

Qi Liao, well-prepared, pulled out the love letter hidden under the pillow and opened the envelope. “Recite it.”

Mu Chi held the love letter he had written just a few days ago, his ears growing increasingly burning hot. “You are the mountain flower that never withers for me, fragrant through spring, summer, and autumn…”

Qi Liao nodded satisfied. “Keep going.”

“In winter, I will treasure you in the softest soil of my heart, waiting for you to bloom again next year.” After finishing, Mu Chi threw the letter back at Qi Liao, embarrassed and annoyed. “Did you discover it long ago?”

Qi Liao raised an eyebrow slightly, his eyes full of joy. “Not too long. Just around the time you wrote your second love letter.”

“…” Mu Chi remembered his second love letter was extremely shameless. “You saw all of them?”

“I saw them.”

Mu Chi buried his face in the fluffy down pillow, letting out muffled shouts of “Mmm mmm mmm!”

Qi Liao pulled him back over. “Do you want to feel my eight-pack abs?”

Mu Chi’s peach-blossom eyes glared angrily, filled with a tearful sheen from being teased, like a ragdoll cat baring its claws. But upon seeing the thing he loved, he couldn’t help but soften his body and retract his sharp claws.

“Go ahead,” Qi Liao said, deeply understanding the principle of offering a carrot, otherwise, what if he scared him away?

Mu Chi looked at the distinct, smoothly defined eight-pack abs, placed both paws on them, squeezed, and kneaded. Then he let out an “Ao wu!” and bit down.

Qi Liao: “!!!”