Are you out of your mind?

Jiang Xun was truly starving.

From the moment he had been drugged unconscious last night until now, nothing had entered his stomach except that glass of spiked milk.

Once the drugs wore off, his body began demanding energy with a vengeance. He was hungry enough to eat an entire cow.

Although the porridge was thin enough to see his reflection in, gulping it down hot made his stomach feel much better at once.

He demolished half the plate of greens in three grabs of his chopsticks, crunching away.

The sight even made the yellow dog in the courtyard hungry. It rose from the corner by the wall and tottered over to his feet.

Jiang Xun quickly drained his second bowl of porridge as well.

He ate at an astonishing speed, his chopsticks flying.

The yellow dog circled anxiously at his feet, its tail spinning like a windmill as pleading whimpers rose from its throat.

"All gone. Stop looking at me." Jiang Xun turned the empty bowl over to show it. "I'm only thirty percent full myself."

He was telling the truth. Two bowls of watery porridge had barely put anything in his stomach.

Shen Wangjing came out of the kitchen carrying a coarse porcelain bowl. It held vegetable porridge cooked separately for the old man, just a little thicker than the three bowls on the table.

He went over to the wheelchair, crouched down, and fed the old man spoonful by spoonful, his movements practiced and patient. He said nothing the entire time.

The production crew bustled around the courtyard. The director stood and clapped twice, signaling for everyone to take their places.

"Jiang Xun, this is Shen Wangjing from Shiban Village. You'll be staying at his home and living with him for the next month."

The director pointed at the old man in the wheelchair. "This is Grandpa Shen. His health isn't very good, and he needs someone to look after him day to day."

Jiang Xun nodded to the old man, then glanced at Shen Wangjing.

Shen Wangjing did not even lift his eyelids.

The director gave a dry laugh and continued going through the procedure. "Our show's rules are very simple. It's a life swap, so the idea is to let you experience the everyday life of a rural kid."

"Shen Wangjing's younger brother, Shen Yuxing, left for Capital City yesterday. He should have reached your house by now."

"Your father and eldest brother are away on business, but your second brother is home. He'll take good care of him."

Remembering the way Jiang Yanchu fawned over Jiang Yu and revolved around him, Jiang Xun sneered.

He already treasured an illegitimate son with a different surname, and now there was some rural kid with absolutely no connection to him.

With Jiang Yanchu's pitiful little supply of love split between a fake younger brother and a strange kid, he would probably overload and fry his CPU.

The director leaned close to Jiang Xun's ear and lowered his voice. "Jiang Xun, our show actually has a script. You don't need to cooperate too much, but you can't be too uncooperative either."

"Your current persona is a rebellious young master from a wealthy family," the director coaxed patiently.

"You understand rebellious, right? Like smashing a bowl, glaring, swearing, 'Is this shithole fit for anyone to live in?' Then storming back into your room and slamming the door..."

"Rebellious, my ass." Jiang Xun rolled his eyes. "Are you out of your mind?"

The director: "..."

"I went hungry all night, got drugged unconscious and dumped in this mountain backwater, and haven't even had a hot meal since I opened my eyes. And you want me to act rebellious?"

Jiang Xun stuffed a leaf into his mouth and crunched it. "I'm hungry enough to gnaw on that monitor of yours, and you're talking to me about a persona?"

The corner of the director's mouth twitched. "Your stepmother said in her video segment that you hit people at the drop of a hat. At least cooperate a little. Lose your temper or something. Otherwise, when we edit the episode, your persona won't match up..."

Jiang Xun said, "How the fuck is that my problem?"

"I hit people because those assholes deserve a beating, not because there's something wrong with my head. You dump me somewhere like this and still expect me to put on a monkey show for you?"

He picked up his empty bowl and stood. "Go to the zoo if you want to watch that. Don't come looking for footage here."

The director was left utterly speechless and could only watch this royal pain saunter into the kitchen with his bowl.

The kitchen was much darker than the courtyard, with only a few shafts of light coming through a palm-sized window in the wall.

Jiang Xun had barely stepped over the threshold when the scorched smell of burning firewood made him squint.

The stove was built from yellow mud and bricks, with a large, pitch-black iron pot set into its top.

Jiang Xun walked over, lifted the lid, and peered inside-

The pot was completely empty. Forget porridge-even the last remnants of rice water at the bottom had been scraped clean, so clean it looked as though someone had licked it.

Jiang Xun froze with the lid in his hand. A second later, his shocked voice exploded from the kitchen. "Why is the pot empty?!"

The staff in the courtyard all looked up.

Shen Wangjing had finished feeding his grandfather the vegetable porridge and was sitting on the threshold drinking his own bowl. He did not even turn his head at the shout.

Jiang Xun rushed up to him in a few quick strides. His gaze paused on the bowl of porridge in Shen Wangjing's hand, so watery he could see the bottom, then shifted to his broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted frame.

By Jiang Xun's estimate, Shen Wangjing was at least 188 centimeters tall, with broad shoulders and back and firm, smoothly defined muscles in his arms.

One look told him they had been built through years of heavy labor in the mountains.

A man built like this only drank one bowl of watery porridge? That wouldn't even be enough to feed a cat.

"You're only having one bowl?" Jiang Xun's voice rose without him realizing. "You're this big, and one bowl of porridge fills you up?"

Shen Wangjing finally raised his head and looked at him.

His eyes were dark and deep, holding no emotion, as still as a pool of stagnant water.

"There was only enough rice to cook this much."

Jiang Xun froze for a moment.

Shen Wangjing lowered his head and continued drinking his porridge, his tone flat. "I used to have three bowls. Now that you're here, I only have one left."

Something seemed to catch inside Jiang Xun's chest.

He had spent seventeen years in an orphanage and knew better than anyone what it felt like to go hungry.

But however poor the orphanage had been, it had at least received government subsidies and charitable donations. Every meal had enough cabbage stewed with glass noodles to fill them up, and on holidays they could even have a few pieces of processed meat.

This household before him truly had nothing.

Jiang Xun slapped his chopsticks onto the table, turned, and headed out through the courtyard gate.