Three Parts Attachment

If It's Anshu... Never Mind

What Jiang He emphasized was that Gu Yang was planning to apologize. But what Shen Zhi focused on was that An Shu had actually gone and lectured Gu Yang.

Back then, she had stood quietly, listening as Gu Yang unloaded a stream of complaints to An Shu. She had deliberately stayed behind, wanting to see how An Shu would respond. But to her disappointment, his reaction had been completely indifferent—nothing like what she had hoped for.

She had turned and walked away, disheartened. Yet later, she received the clothes he bought for her. And now she found out... that An Shu had actually stood up for her?

At that moment, countless thoughts swirled through her mind, leaving it a chaotic mess. There was still a vague sense of disappointment in her heart—but she couldn’t quite explain why.

It was like a sunny day that, to her, still felt overcast.

Jiang He noticed that ever since his last response, Shen Zhi hadn’t said a word. He was puzzled at first, but then it clicked.

Ah... so it’s because of his captain.

Honestly, if it weren’t for An Shu, he would’ve asked them directly what kind of relationship they had. But knowing An Shu, even if he did ask, An Shu would never answer. As for Shen Zhi—he didn’t dare ask her.

While Shen Zhi and Jiang He were deep in thought, the host, Yang Yu, stood there awkwardly.

Looking left and right, Yang Yu finally decided to break the silence. He cleared his throat and said, “Are we doing the same thing today as yesterday?”

Jiang He snapped out of it. “Yeah,” he replied.

Then, with a loud thud, he dropped his heavy backpack to the ground. The sudden noise snapped Shen Zhi out of her wandering thoughts.

What Jiang He said next made it impossible for her to think about anything else: “Let’s start today’s task.”

Today’s task was tree planting. Originally, this wasn’t something An Shu’s oasis team was responsible for.

Their forestry engineers specialized in tree species cultivation, field surveys, and pest control—far too technical to teach the guests in a short time.

So the production team and the base staff worked out a compromise: let the guests experience tree planting directly.

This way, the guests would better understand the difficulty of desert reforestation, and it would make for more impactful footage.

Shen Zhi had read the program outline beforehand, so she was mentally prepared.

But yesterday, on her first day, she fainted from discomfort. So today was technically her first real attempt.

By the end of the day, she felt like her back was about to snap. On the way back, she was too tired to even speak.

Jiang He looked at her exhausted expression and offered a bit of comfort: “It’s always like this at first. It gets better.”

Shen Zhi turned her dull eyes toward him and replied simply, “Oh.”

Seeing that she wasn’t in the mood for conversation, Jiang He said nothing more.

He silently walked over to Yang Yu, the two of them walking side-by-side ahead of Shen Zhi.

Shen Zhi trailed several meters behind them.

The three walked in a quiet formation—two in front, one behind. The desert was still and soundless. No one spoke. Only the camera trailed behind, recording it all.

By the time they returned to the base, Shen Zhi was too drained to say a word. As soon as the wrap was announced, she turned and went straight to her room without even looking at anyone.

She just wanted to sleep. No one could disturb her. As a result, she missed Gu Yang’s attempt to approach her and apologize.

“Ah—” Gu Yang had just stepped forward, only to watch her walk away without even glancing at him.

He hung his head, dejected. Just then, someone patted him on the shoulder. He turned around to see his captain.

An Shu looked at him and said in a low voice, “It’s fine. I’ll speak to her for you tonight.”

Gu Yang frowned slightly, confused. Something felt off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Still, he nodded. “Okay.”

Then they all headed to dinner together. Shen Zhi still hadn’t come out.

An Shu didn’t mention it, eating quietly with Jiang He and the others. During the meal, Yang Qing came over to talk to An Shu, but he treated her the same as everyone else—polite but distant.

Yang Qing ended up walking away awkwardly. Still, it was clear to everyone that she had feelings for An Shu. It was just hard to tell whether he’d noticed—he was cold to everyone.

But Jiang He, who had seen An Shu carry Shen Zhi back before, felt Yang Qing didn’t stand a chance.

Unfortunately, Yang Qing hadn’t seen that scene—she had been resting at the time.

Still, she wasn’t discouraged by An Shu’s indifference and chose to sit with them for dinner.

Even though An Shu didn’t talk much, Yang Qing kept trying to have conversation. But every time she said something, he would end the exchange with just one word.

Just as she was about to try again, Gu Yang suddenly spoke up.

He set down his chopsticks and leaned over to An Shu, phone in hand, and said in a low voice, “Hey, Captain, look at this—who do you think this is?”

An Shu looked down to see a Weibo post.

He didn’t recognize the username, but the content gave it away:

“Planting trees is so exhausting. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

There was a tired-face emoji, along with a photo.

It wasn’t hard to guess who had posted it. An Shu’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly, and a faint smile appeared at the corners of his lips. In a low voice, he said, “She’s just messing around.”

Gu Yang looked embarrassed. He’d only stumbled across it and gotten curious—he didn’t expect An Shu to misread his intentions.

Quickly, he explained, “No, no—I wasn’t blaming her. I just thought I’d show you.”

An Shu didn’t say more. “Mm,” he replied simply and went back to eating.

Seeing this, Gu Yang dropped the subject and returned to his meal. Still, he silently cursed himself for being nosy enough to show that post in the first place.

He swore he really just wanted to share something interesting. Only after showing it did he realize how dumb it was.

Gu Yang had previously seen rumors about Shen Zhi online, which made him dislike her—especially her coming here to film the show. He thought she was just acting for the camera.

But after what happened yesterday, he started to question his assumptions. Had he really misunderstood her?

He opened his phone again and, on impulse, followed Shen Zhi’s Weibo account.

The guys quickly finished their meal. Yang Qing still had some food left, but when she saw An Shu stand up, she panicked.

She almost stood up too—but then remembered how An Shu had told her not to waste food last time.

That memory made her hesitate. After a few seconds, she sat back down and continued eating silently. She knew this wasn’t something to rush.

She watched as An Shu’s figure disappeared into the distance.

But what Yang Qing didn’t know was that An Shu wasn’t returning to his room.

“Hey, Captain, haven’t you eaten already?” someone at the base called out as they saw him approach.

Without changing her expression, An Shu replied, “Mm.”

But when the cafeteria auntie saw him again, she couldn’t help asking, “Didn’t you just get food a minute ago, Captain An?”

“Oh, it’s for a friend.”

“A friend? "What friend?” The auntie grew curious.

She’d worked here a long time and only ever saw An Shu hang around his team. When did he make friends?

“It’s one of the guests from the show,” An Shu said calmly.

“Oh.” The auntie didn’t press further and scooped up the dishes he pointed at.

Once he finished packing, she suddenly thought of something and called out to him: “Hey, I heard a celebrity coming for the shoot. Get me an autograph later, okay?”

To everyone’s surprise, the usually cold An Shu actually turned back and gave a faint smile. “Okay,” he replied.

Then he headed toward Shen Zhi’s room.

Shen Zhi had actually woken up a while ago, but she was too tired to move. Even though she was starving, she just couldn’t get herself out of bed.

She wanted to ask her assistant to bring her some food—only to realize she didn’t even have her assistant’s contact info.

So she lay there, bored, and started posting on Weibo. Probably out of hunger-induced brain fog, she accidentally posted from her main account.

The signal was bad, and it took her ages to delete the post.

When she was finally done, she felt even hungrier.

So hungry... she thought. If someone brought me food right now, I’d fulfill one wish for them—whatever they wanted.

She told herself she’d get up at the top of the hour and go eat.

But just as she was scrolling on her phone, there was a knock at the door.

At first, it was soft. Shen Zhi heard it and frowned slightly. She was about to open the door when she heard a familiar deep voice from outside:

“Shen Zhi, are you there?”

Shen Zhi: “!!!”

At the sound of An Shu’s voice, all the silly thoughts from earlier flooded back into her head.

And now all she could think was:

If it’s An Shu… never mind.