OSTF - 44

Chi Suisui was fairly familiar with dating reality shows.

Previously, several video platforms had launched such programs where a group of men and women lived together in the same house to foster romantic connections.

Before graduation, one of her roommates had been an avid fan of this type of show. Sometimes they would root for the wrong couples or complain about certain participants who were particularly annoying.

Chi Suisui often overheard these discussions.

So when she saw the retweeted post earlier, she immediately guessed what it was about—and sure enough, it was exactly as she had thought.

Not only was Chi Suisui already engaged to He Xingwang, but even if she were single, she wouldn’t consider participating in such a show to find love.

There were likely scripts involved, and they might even assign her an unlikable character role—why put herself through that?

This staff member must have seen the recent news about her and gotten the idea.

After all, Chi Suisui wasn’t a complete unknown. She had appeared on trending topics, been mentioned in news clarified by He Xingwang, and now even appeared in official media.

As a TV reporter, she fit the bill perfectly for a unique yet appealing female guest on a variety show.

It was still work hours, so the staff member was online and saw Chi Suisui’s reply. They hadn’t expected her rejection to be so direct.

[Sis Suisui, could you reconsider? Our show, Love Countdown , reached over 500 million views last season—it’s incredibly popular. You should check out our previous seasons.]

This dating reality show, Love Countdown , had already aired three seasons, featuring participants from various professions. This time, they wanted someone with a more distinctive occupation.

Chi Suisui didn’t feel particularly drawn to variety shows.

She usually spent her time keeping up with the latest news rather than following dramas or reality shows.

On the other hand, Su Mian watched variety shows regularly.

People were naturally curious, and the popularity of dating reality shows stemmed from audiences growing tired of celebrity romances. Ordinary people offered more mystery, even if there were scripts involved, the manipulation wasn’t as obvious.

Chi Suisui patiently replied: [Sorry, I’m probably not suited for this show, and I don’t have any plans to participate in variety shows at the moment.]

Given the polite tone of the message, she added a bit more explanation.

A few minutes later, the other party sent another private message: [Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider? Is it because of the appearance fee? Our show pays quite well.]

Upon seeing this, Chi Suisui raised an eyebrow.

What gave them the impression that she’d participate just for money?

Could it be the “poor little girl” persona her fans had created for her on Weibo?

Chi Suisui found it amusing: [No, honestly speaking, my family arranged a childhood engagement for me—I already have someone.]

After sending this reason, there was no response from the other side for a long while.

Chi Suisui didn’t dwell on it. Instead, she organized her news articles and achievements from the week and began writing her weekly summary.

After all, it was still work hours.

As soon as work ended, Su Mian stood up excitedly: “Director Chi, hurry, hurry! I’ve already queued us up—we’ll get there just in time.”

Chi Suisui said, “Alright.”

She opened her phone to check her unread messages and glanced at Weibo. Sure enough, the other party had replied a few minutes ago.

[As long as you’re not actually dating someone, you can still participate.]

Seeing this, Chi Suisui thought their logic was strange.

Putting aside the childhood engagement, even using blind dating as an analogy—wouldn’t it be inappropriate to join a dating show while talking to potential matches?

Moreover, Chi Suisui had already stated she had a partner.

She responded with an emoji.

The other party quickly replied: [This is my first time inviting someone—I hope I didn’t offend you. Thank you for your response, I understand now. I’ll explain to my superiors. Childhood engagements are rare these days, haha—I almost thought you were brushing me off.]

Chi Suisui simply glanced at the message and replied with another emoji.

Whether the other person truly believed in the childhood engagement didn’t matter to her—she had already stated the real reason.

She didn’t feel the need to elaborate further.

“Sis Chi, what are you so engrossed in?” Su Mian asked.

“A dating reality show invited me,” Chi Suisui said without hiding it. “I declined.”

“It’s better not to participate in variety shows.”

Su Mian gave an example: “Remember that really popular star who went on a variety show? Their image collapsed, and now they’re washed up.”

Realizing what she said, she quickly covered her mouth: “I didn’t mean you have an image to maintain, Director Chi!”

“It’s fine.” Chi Suisui wasn’t bothered. “Hot pot is more important. Who cares about variety shows? There’s no way I’d go on one.”

While other types of shows, like workplace reality shows, might be possible, a dating show was out of the question for her.

Chi Suisui quickly pushed the matter out of her mind.

After finishing the hot pot, Chi Suisui didn’t return to Bai’an Mansion but went home instead.

Qi Xincheng was free tonight, not at the company, and was at home when he saw her return. “Suisui, do you have any thoughts on the wedding date?”

He looked at his daughter expectantly.

“Have you already discussed the wedding date?” Chi Suisui didn’t answer directly but asked, “Did you settle on something with the He family?”

“Not yet. We’re considering your opinion.”

“Is it this year or next year?”

At first, Chi Suisui hadn’t given much thought to the wedding date, assuming the parents would decide on a good day.

But if they were asking for her input, she would certainly consider it.

“There are only two months left in the year, so having the wedding now would be too rushed,” Qi Xincheng said seriously. “In my opinion, next year would be better.”

Chi Suisui watched him calmly.

Qi Xincheng looked entirely justified: “You and Xingwang are already engaged, so there’s no rush. You’ve just graduated, and Xingwang has competitions coming up.”

His reasoning sounded very earnest.

“Alright, I’ll take that into consideration,” Chi Suisui suppressed a smile and agreed. “The wedding date is important—I’ll think carefully about it.”

“Hmm, that’s right.” Qi Xincheng smiled.

Chi Suisui curved her lips slightly and headed straight to the kitchen. Fish soup was simmering on the stove again today. Even after eating hot pot, the aroma made her want to taste it.

She scooped a spoonful before heading upstairs.

As for the wedding itself, Chi Suisui hadn’t thought about it happening so soon. After all, this wasn’t just a simple marriage—it involved two major families.

The Qi and He families still needed to negotiate, which was an important step.

More importantly, it was her and He Xingwang’s decision. After all, it was their marriage, not anyone else’s.

Chi Suisui messaged He Xingwang: [My dad asked me about the wedding date today.]

After a minute, he replied.

He Xingwang: [Are they already discussing it?]

Chi Suisui: [Probably, but the specific date hasn’t been decided yet. We can suggest one ourselves.]

She also wanted to ask He Xingwang what timing he preferred.

After a while, He Xingwang replied: [What do you think?]

Chi Suisui genuinely didn’t have a preference. Her father was right—the World Cup was approaching, so November was out of the question. December would also feel rushed, and waiting a bit longer would naturally push it to next year.

Next year also held the important Tokyo Olympics.

The first half of the year would be hectic, but if the wedding were delayed, they could still register their marriage anytime.

Chi Suisui’s mind raced through many possibilities.

She replied: [I haven’t decided yet.]

He Xingwang: [No rush.]

Upon seeing his message, Chi Suisui’s fingers twitched, and she replied: [Alright, I’ll tell them we can postpone it. It’s not urgent right now.]

The other end fell silent.

Chi Suisui had followed his words instinctively. Only after replying did she realize her statement could be interpreted in two ways.

Sure enough, He Xingwang replied: [That’s wrong.]

Chi Suisui lay on her bed, holding her phone and chuckling. She teased: [Then tell me—what exactly is wrong?]

He Xingwang: [Everything.]

He Xingwang: [What I meant was that you can take your time to think about it.]

Rather than outright postponing.

When Chi Suisui saw this message, she couldn’t help but laugh. She could imagine He Xingwang’s furrowed brows as he patiently explained himself.

She replied that she would think it over carefully.

Outside the Shooting Sports Center, night had already fallen.

Inside, however, the lights were still bright. After dinner, everyone gathered together to chat and discuss the latest news online.

This was one of the rare moments of relaxation in their day.

Despite years of training, the long hours of holding a gun and shooting still took a toll on their arms, leaving them tired by the end of the day.

They would often fall asleep shortly after returning to their rooms.

Exercise, eat, exercise, sleep—this repetitive routine wouldn’t change for years, all in preparation for the competition.

As long as they achieved results, everything would be worth it.

Looking at the final message on his phone, He Xingwang finally relaxed his expression and turned it off.

The topic of the wedding date had been brought up by his family.

But with his recent intense training schedule and careful consideration, he hadn’t yet settled on a specific time.

Meanwhile, Li Huaiming was reading today’s news: “Why don’t these dating reality shows invite me? I’ve been single for so long, and I’m not even a celebrity.”

“In your dreams, anything is possible.”

Su Zhi shattered his fantasy.

The dating show had trended because the official Weibo account had just announced it earlier.

Although these shows didn’t feature celebrities, the success of previous seasons drew significant attention. Even before filming began, and without confirmed guests, it had already made it onto the trending lists.

That evening, Su Mian was lying at home when she spotted the trending topic and immediately thought of what Director Chi had mentioned earlier that day.

It really did seem related.

Su Mian felt it was better not to participate in such shows. In past seasons, there were always one or two female participants intentionally portrayed as unpopular characters, leading to backlash whenever they posted on social media—even if they were otherwise decent people in real life.

So while Su Mian watched the shows, she treated them purely as dramas, aware that they were scripted and refrained from associating them with real-life individuals.

Scrolling further, she noticed someone in the comments sharing a screenshot.

It was from an anonymous forum thread discussing the show, speculating about potential guests—all unfamiliar names.

Su Mian followed the link to the forum.

The thread was on the front page. After browsing through several layers of replies, she spotted Chi Suisui’s name, and the subsequent discussion revolved entirely around her.

Without hesitation, Su Mian sent the post to Chi Suisui.

Su Mian: [Director Chi, is this the variety show that invited you?]

Chi Suisui had just finished taking a bath and was reading international news on her tablet when Su Mian’s message popped up unexpectedly.

She reached over and tapped it open.

[Who is Chi Suisui? What’s her Weibo?]

[She’s quite pretty. Is she trying to break into the entertainment industry?]

[The first three female guests are also good-looking, but css seems slightly better.]

[Why are we using abbreviations for non-celebrities?]

The following comments centered around her and another internet-famous guest, including comparisons and predictions about who might become the best couple.

Chi Suisui glanced at the thread title—it was indeed about the same dating show.

She’d only been invited earlier that day, so how had the guest list already leaked? Moreover, she had declined, yet her name was still being discussed.

By the time she scrolled to the latest replies, she finally understood why.

[Do you remember a post from tonight where someone claiming to be a staff member said they tried to invite an ordinary person to the show but got rejected? Afterward, it was revealed to be a dating show, and they disappeared.]

The anonymous forum was well-versed in entertainment gossip, and earlier today, a post had complained about the situation.

Once reminded, many users recalled the post and bumped it back to the front page.

The original poster admitted to being a staff member working on a new variety project and inviting ordinary guests.

They initially thought it would be easy since the previous candidates quickly agreed, but the last female guest caused problems.

The guest gave a strange excuse to brush them off and stopped replying altogether, resorting to emojis—a clear sign of disinterest.

Chi Suisui frowned upon reading the content.

She had resorted to emojis because the staff member’s response was absurd, suggesting she could participate despite having a childhood engagement.

Had she not used emojis, she might have snapped back.

The post was made around 6 PM, and commenters bombarded the thread asking for details.

After dozens of floors of questioning, the poster finally revealed the reason: the guest claimed to have a childhood engagement.

Once this excuse surfaced, it became evident which show it referred to—the upcoming Love Countdown .

[This reason… sounds like a brush-off.]

[At least they gave a reason. Why expose an ordinary person on an entertainment forum?]

[Love Countdown ? Does anyone still watch that?]

[Confirmed: staff members frequent anonymous forums.]

With the thread spiraling out of control, the original poster vanished.

In the latest replies, netizens began speculating which ordinary person had rejected the show.

Chi Suisui stopped reading halfway.

Su Mian sent a long voice message in the group chat: “Why are netizens so obsessed with ordinary people? What’s there to discuss? Director Chi isn’t a celebrity. The staff member was probably just salty about being rejected and went to the forum to vent. So petty.”

Dr. Song chimed in enthusiastically: [Maybe it’s because Suisui is attractive.]

Chi Suisui curved her lips slightly.

She had indeed found the staff member’s line of thinking peculiar, which was why she hadn’t engaged further.

Just as Chi Suisui was about to reply, another message from Su Mian popped up.

Su Mian: [So many people are guessing it was you who rejected them. How is it so accurate?]

Su Mian: [Why couldn’t it be someone else?]

Chi Suisui suspected that other potential guests might have been spotted or hinted at participation on Weibo.

Otherwise, how could the leaked guest list be so precise?

The show likely bought its trending spot, and the forum post might have been planted by the production team.

The replies remained relatively stable, but the gossip kept getting more accurate—including which guests had plastic surgery and what they did before.

When Chi Suisui revisited the thread, she scrolled to the latest page.

Someone had posted a screenshot. The unredacted Weibo post appeared to come from someone unfamiliar with Chi Suisui, so it garnered no comments or likes—but it mentioned her name.

The post revealed that she had rejected the show, citing the same childhood engagement excuse from the leaked staff member’s thread.

[User MangoSago: A certain variety show announced today that a previously considered guest, css, declined due to a childhood engagement arranged by her family.]

Once the screenshot surfaced, netizens knew exactly who had rejected the offer.

[So Chi Suisui has a childhood engagement?]

[Such an old-fashioned reason—it feels so strange.]

[Are there still families arranging childhood engagements nowadays?]

[Didn’t Chi Suisui mention being poor before? If her family isn’t from a big city, it makes sense they’d arrange a childhood engagement.]

[Her fiancé isn’t some scruffy guy, is he?]

[Wow, now I feel genuinely sorry for Chi Suisui.]