Who are you?

After eating and drinking his fill, Jiang Xun flopped onto the only hard plank bed in the house, casually plucking a foxtail stem from the foot of the wall and sticking it between his lips.

He crossed his legs and squinted up at a spider spinning its web on a roof beam, the foxtail bobbing at the corner of his mouth.

The spider was busy, its eight legs moving rapidly as it swung from one rafter to another, leading a more fulfilling life than he was.

The director had been sitting behind the monitor for almost twenty minutes. All the footage showed was Jiang Xun's swinging foot and that diligent spider, without so much as the sound of a voice.

She finally couldn't sit still anymore.

"Go," she whispered, turning to the production assistant beside her. "Tell Shen Wangjing to take Jiang Xun out to work in the fields. This kid just lies down after eating his fill. Does he think he's here on vacation?"

In the production team's experience, a city-bred young master's first time working in the fields was bound to be chaos. Either the mud was too dirty or the sun was too hot.

Those pampered young masters and young ladies from previous seasons could shriek across three octaves the moment they stepped into the mud, providing all the footage anyone could want.

The production assistant readily took her advice and jogged into the courtyard.

Shen Wangjing had just put his black short-sleeved shirt back on and was picking up a hoe from the corner to hoist onto his shoulder.

After chopping the firewood, he had cleaned up the pots and bowls, and the sweat at his temples hadn't quite dried.

The production assistant approached and relayed the director's instructions.

Shen Wangjing neither stopped nor turned his head, merely saying flatly, "He can't do it."

He was only stating a fact. The young master from the city had hands as white as the base of a scallion, with long, slender fingers and well-defined joints but not a single callus. One look was enough to tell he had never touched a farm tool. What would sending someone like that into the fields accomplish besides making trouble?

The production assistant hadn't expected Shen Wangjing to be so uncooperative. With no other choice, he braced himself and walked to the main room's doorway, cautiously poking half his head inside.

"Jiang Xun, Shen Wangjing is heading to the fields. Would you like to go along and give it a try?"

"He already said I couldn't do it." Jiang Xun rolled over lazily. "Wouldn't going along make him look bad?"

The production assistant said, "..."

"Besides," Jiang Xun said, narrowing his eyes, "who volunteers for work just because they've got nothing better to do after a meal? Do I look like an idiot?"

The corner of the production assistant's mouth twitched. He had no answer.

Behind the monitor, the director's face had turned green.

She had been counting on Shen Wangjing's "he can't do it" to goad this rebellious young master a little.

After all, her years of experience had taught her that these city troublemakers were especially susceptible to a challenge. The more you told them they couldn't do something, the more determined they were to prove they could.

Yet Jiang Xun refused to follow the script.

Not only did he refuse to take the bait, he took the easy way out and lay right down, perfectly at peace with himself.

Meanwhile, at the Jiang family villa in Capital City.

Shen Yuxing stood before the three-meter-tall ornamental bronze gate, carrying an old backpack washed so often its color had faded.

The neckline of his blue short-sleeved shirt had been washed out of shape, and a few clumsy stitches mended a spot where the cuff had unraveled. His trousers were too short, exposing his thin ankles.

The show's camera operator had already set up the camera.

The director's assistant quietly walked him through the procedure. "Once you go inside, greet the Jiang family first. Then we'll film your reactions as you tour the house."

"Remember to make your expressions exaggerated. The more surprised you look, the better. Open your mouth wide, widen your eyes, and say 'wow' out loud. Got it?"

Shen Yuxing kept his head lowered, his faint voice sounding as though it had been squeezed out of his throat. "Okay."

Then he added, "Thank you, miss."

The sweet way he addressed her melted the assistant's heart.

This boy was so well-behaved. Compared with that little tyrant on the other end, who had apparently stolen the director's boxed lunch and then critiqued its seasoning, he was worlds apart.

Shen Yuxing cautiously raised his eyes to study the building before him.

It had white European-style exterior walls and stood three stories high, with four Roman columns at the entrance. The patterns carved into their capitals were even more intricate than those on the Greek temples pictured in his textbooks.

The fountain in the courtyard splashed in the sunlight, its jets refracting a short rainbow.

The grandest building he had ever seen was the credit union building in their town, clad in white ceramic tiles.

It had two floors in all, with an ATM on the ground floor. To him, that was already a landmark of luxury.

Yet the villa before him was many times more beautiful than the credit union building. The fountain at the entrance alone would have provided enough tap water for everyone in his village for a year.

Shen Yuxing's fingers unconsciously tightened around his backpack straps.

A few minutes later, the villa's front door was pulled open from inside.

Jiang Yanchu stood beneath the portico, his expression going through the entire transition from disappointment to confusion in half a second.

He had originally planned to talk to Jiang Xun that day.

Ever since Jiang Xun had left him speechless with those remarks in the living room, he had spent several days tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

Those words were like a thorn that had lodged inside him and never been pulled out.

In his memory, Liu Wanying had always been a gentle, considerate mother who never played favorites and treated all three children equally.

Jiang Yu was mischievous but adorable. Jiang Yanchu had doted on him since he was little, and that affection was real.

But after Jiang Xun returned, everything had changed.

When Jiang Xun looked at him, there was no expectation, no reliance, not even anything that could count as hatred.

There was only utter indifference, as though his second older brother was no different from a stone by the roadside.

That indifference hurt him more than if Jiang Xun had shouted at him, cursed him, or even hit him.

He had so much bottled up that he wanted to have a proper talk with Jiang Xun, only to learn from Liu Wanying that morning that Jiang Xun had gone out.

The moment the doorbell rang, he had practically sprung off the sofa and rushed over.

But the person standing at the door wasn't his younger brother.

It was an unfamiliar boy, dark-skinned, thin, and timid, with a faded backpack on his back.

Jiang Yanchu's heart instantly sank.

"Who are you?"

Startled by his blunt, confrontational tone, Shen Yuxing shrank back. His heel struck the threshold, and he tipped backward, nearly falling.

The camera operator reacted quickly and caught him.

"Oh, Yan Chu!" Liu Wanying's voice drifted over from the stairs. "Don't frighten the poor child."

She wore a long cream-colored house dress, her hair gathered in a loose bun and light makeup on her face.

She looked gentle and gracious, the very image of a devoted wife and loving mother whom no one could find fault with.

By the time the production team's camera turned toward her, an appropriate smile was already in place.

"This is the boy the Metamorphosis production team brought over. His name is Shen Yuxing." Liu Wanying walked beneath the portico and rested a hand lightly on Shen Yuxing's shoulder, her tone gentle.

"Xiao Xun has gone to take part in the show. He needs some toughening up in the countryside. It'll be good for his growth."