Secrets and Surprises
1275 Words
The second morning of the livestream drew even more viewers than the first. By now, the audience already had a sense of each family’s dynamic, and they were eagerly waiting for today’s scheduled game: a “Heart-to-Heart Quiz.”
The screen cut to the most anticipated family first: the sibling duo with sky-high popularity—Lu Ye, the aloof idol singer, and his older sister, Lu Wan, a sharp-tongued lawyer.
Onstage, Lu Ye wore all black, his jaw sharp, expression cold, aura untouchable.
The comment section exploded:
[My brother could defeat your brother any day. Lu Ye is THE standard.]
[He’s the definition of cool. I’m dying.]
[Stage king! The whole world belongs to him!]
The host asked cheerfully, “Question one: What’s Lu Ye’s favorite midnight snack?”
The live chat instantly locked in the answer:
[Fried chicken and beer! Always!]
[He said it once in an interview—chicken is life!]
But Lu Ye himself answered coolly, “None. I don’t eat late at night.”
His sister’s card flipped: Milk and teddy-bear cookies.
Correct answer.
Lu Ye’s face darkened immediately. “Wrong. Absolutely wrong. That’s not it.”
Lu Wan glanced at him, her smile faint, her voice calm but firm: “Then why don’t we go check your snack cabinet right now?”
The entire set went silent for half a beat.
The tips of Lu Ye’s ears flushed red. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, visibly grinding his teeth. He couldn’t refute her. He just sat there stiffly, like a furious puppy caught chewing shoes.
The chat went wild:
[OH MY GOD. Idol package shattered on livestream!!]
[So Mr. Cold and Cool survives on cookies and milk?]
[This is better than any variety show. I’m crying.]
[Sister’s bloodline suppression is real. He folded in one move.]
…
Next came the star-studded couple: award-winning actress Shen Qing and her wealthy husband Zhao Ming.
The host grinned. “So, when you two argue, who apologizes first?”
Both cards flipped at the same time: Wife.
Zhao Ming smiled easily. “She’s soft-hearted.”
Shen Qing only gave a small laugh, lowering her gaze.
The audience chuckled, but a few sharper voices threaded through the stream:
[Our goddess is too gentle…]
[She deserves someone who spoils her more.]
[Why does this feel… off?]
The laughter dimmed, leaving behind faint unease.
…
Then the camera cut to actress Yang Rong, forever typecast as villains, and her six-year-old daughter.
“Tell us,” the host asked softly, “what is Mommy most afraid of?”
The little girl wrote carefully: Mommy is afraid if I get hurt and bleed.
Yang Rong’s card read: I’m most afraid she’ll feel wronged.
The mismatch brought laughter, but also warmth.
The chat softened:
[This is love. She knows Mom worries most about her health.]
[The daughter’s so sensible… my heart hurts.]
[They deserve the world.]
…
The father-son pair remained the least popular.
“Question: What phrase does the son say most often?”
Father’s answer: Where’s Mom?
Son’s answer: Mom…
For a moment the air hung awkwardly—then the whole room burst out laughing.
[HAHAHA exposed on live TV!]
[The poor dad… can’t compete with Mom.]
[Classic neglected father energy.]
…
Finally, the luxury siblings.
“Question: What does Lin Xuan most often do late at night?”
Lin Xuan wrote quickly: Raid snacks.
Lin Yi wrote calmly: Eat snacks.
Her cheeks went scarlet. “That’s not true!”
Her brother’s voice was cool. “And the fridge empties itself?”
The chat went into meltdown:
[HELP, this is too real!]
[Siblings exposing each other is peak comedy.]
[Even their teasing feels… weirdly sweet?]
Next question: “If stranded on a deserted island, what’s the one thing Brother Lin Yi would bring?”
Lin Xuan beamed, blurting, “Me!”
The answer card flipped. Lin Yi had written the same thing: Lin Xuan.
For a heartbeat, silence.
Lin Xuan’s smile turned radiant, smug, as if she’d known all along.
Lin Yi, by contrast, remained unruffled, as if there was nothing unusual in writing his sister’s name as his sole survival item.
The chat exploded:
[WHAT. HE REALLY WROTE IT??]
[This is not sibling vibes. This is… something else.]
[This is either the purest family bond… or the start of a drama.]
…
The audience assumed the morning games would end with lunch. Instead, the director announced a twist:
“From now on, all families will move to the program’s prepared villa and live together. But—there will be no money provided, and private cars are not allowed. Each family must find their own way to reach the villa.”
For a second, every guest looked stunned.
The comments surged like a wave:
[WHAT? No money, no cars??]
[Is this a survival show now??]
[Can’t wait to see how the rich ones manage this.]
…
Somehow, it was Lin Yi and Lin Xuan who drew the most attention again.
Because within minutes, several luxury cars rolled up to the villa gate. Business associates, eager to curry favor with the Lin family, had already caught wind of the livestream challenge. They showed up in person, practically begging Lin Yi to accept their rides.
Lin Xuan followed her brother out, blinking at the lineup of gleaming black sedans and sports cars. Her lips curved upward in delight.
“Brother, which one are we taking?”
Lin Yi only glanced over the fleet, indifferent. At last, he chose one at random, opening the door for her as though this had always been the plan.
The comments section collapsed into laughter:
[So everyone else is sweating and begging for rides, while the Lins get a red-carpet escort??]
[Rules said no private cars, but did it say no admirers with luxury fleets?]
[They broke the game in the most Lin Family way possible.]
Inside the car, the atmosphere shifted into something quieter, sweeter.
The cameraman in the front seat couldn’t help asking, “Your sibling relationship seems… unusually close. Many viewers commented their own brothers don’t even talk to them much. Why are you two so different?”
Lin Xuan’s lashes fluttered. She leaned back against the leather seat, her voice soft but clear.
“Because we grew up depending only on each other. No parents, no one else. Just my brother and me. So of course we’re close. Isn’t that natural?”
Her tone was matter-of-fact, but her smile was bright, proud—like she was presenting the world’s most precious treasure.
Lin Yi remained silent, profile sharp in the afternoon light. His gaze lowered briefly to the girl beside him.
She didn’t see the way his fingers curled against his knee, the faint, restrained softness in his eyes.
To the audience, it looked like a perfect answer of sibling affection.
But beneath the calm surface, a different current was already stirring.
The livestream fell silent for a split second—then erupted again.
[Ahhh why does this feel a little too sweet!]
[Is this really just sibling love? The chemistry is killing me!]
[She said her brother is the one she trusts most—end me now!]
[Rational fan here: Calm down, people. They’re just siblings! Growing up together naturally makes them close!]
On screen, the siblings were simply themselves—one smiling brightly, the other cool and protective.
The line between family affection and something more hovered delicately, balanced on that razor-thin edge of almost but not quite.
Behind the scenes, the director watched the skyrocketing viewership graph and could only grind his teeth in frustration—
Of course the Lin siblings had found a loophole again.
- Writer
