Before Going on a Variety Show, the Actress Lost Her Memory - Chapter 19

All four teams of guests had assembled, and the production crew was exchanging pleasantries and introductions.

This variety show employed a hybrid format of live streaming and recorded broadcasts. Viewers could choose to watch the entire live stream, and during group tasks, they could select which guests they wanted to follow.

After the live stream concluded, the most exciting segments would be edited into a highlight reel for Saturday’s broadcast, making “Accompanying the Rest of Our Lives” both a live and recorded show.

“I’m sure you’ve all gotten acquainted by now,” the director said with a smile, clearly amused by his own claim of “lacking sponsors.” “Today is our first meeting. Tomorrow, we’ll depart for our first destination: Yun City.

However, due to our limited budget—we’re still lacking sponsors, you see—you’ll need to complete tasks to determine your team’s funding allocation.”

“Lacking sponsors? Hahahaha! Director, are you even listening to yourself?”

“This year—no, for the past three years—’Accompanying the Rest of Our Lives’ has probably had the most sponsors of any show!”

“I can’t take it anymore! Hahahaha! Even the director can’t suppress his laughter!”

“I remember Best Actress Xi and the Yu Clan both invested in Accompanying the Rest of Our Lives, right?”

Xi Xiuyun glanced meaningfully at the director.

Even without any other investors, the funds provided by Yun Yu and the Yu Clan alone were more than enough for the production team to complete the show with dignity.

Yet here the director was, claiming they were short on funds.

“Hahaha, look at Best Actress Xi’s expression! It’s like she’s saying, ‘Let’s see how you’re going to spin this.'”

“Hahahahahaha, I’m dying of laughter!”

“I remember Best Actress Xi has always been Yu Zai’s investor and producer.

Holy sh1t, I used to think it was to protect Yu Zai, but Yu Zai’s backed by the Yu Clan.

Now that the Yu Clan’s investment is ranked below Best Actress Xi’s, it’s dawning on me—this isn’t about protection, it’s about control, isn’t it?”

“The commenter above nailed it. Watching the live streams these past few days, I have to admit, Best Actress Xi definitely has a yandere vibe.”

“Ahhh, I noticed it too! Best Actress Xi herself is so aloof and cold.

But the moment Yu Zai appears by her side, she starts acting really strange. As for why… well, let’s just say, those who know, know.”

“Did the comments section start getting raunchy again when I wasn’t paying attention?”

“… …”

As the comments section pointed out, the Yu Clan had initially been the largest investor in all of Xi Xiuyun and Yu Wenyu’s film and television projects, including variety shows.

However, after Xi Xiuyun founded Yun Yu, the company gradually began to participate in investments.

Now, Yun Yu had not only become the largest entertainment company but also the two women’s largest investor, with the Yu Clan relegated to second place.

If one were to ask why, the answer would be that initially, Yu Wenxi’s overprotective, sister-obsessed nature had driven her to dominate investments.

Later, as Xi Xiuyun became involved in investments, Yu Wenxi felt slightly more at ease. Instead of maintaining her sole dominance, she ceded the opportunity to Xi Xiuyun.

On one hand, Yun Yu needed to grow. On the other hand, although Yu Wenxi felt that she had only gone abroad for training, her beloved younger sister had been “snatched away.” Still, Xi Xiuyun was someone she had watched grow up, just like her sister—a fresh, tender head of cabbage.

Even though it made her uneasy, Yu Wenxi had to admit that Xi Xiuyun was indeed exceptional.

For her sister’s sake, she didn’t want to compete with Xi Xiuyun, so she chose to invest without seeking control.

The director had already begun cueing the next segment, but the live chat was far more interested in why Best Actress Xi’s demeanor had changed so drastically.

For a moment, the chat and the director were talking at cross-purposes.

Unaware of this chaos, the director had already explained the upcoming task to the guests.

Each couple was required to recreate one of their classic scenes. Their performance would be judged based on audience feedback in the live chat, combined with real-time trending data from major platforms and Weibo.

The top-ranked couples would have the first pick of the budget, which in turn determined the type of hotel they would stay in for the first night.

Su Junwan and Xiao Huili had only been married for a year, while the other couples had been together much longer and had collaborative works to their names.

Despite Su Junwan being a singer and Xiao Huili an actress, they had been actively promoting their relationship since going public and had already collaborated on several projects.

The specific work to be recreated wasn’t chosen by the production team or the guests themselves, but rather by an online audience vote.

Before each guest group’s performance, there would be a five-minute period during which the live broadcast’s comment section would flood with scrolling messages, and data collection would identify the most frequently mentioned works.

Until this moment, the guests remained unaware of what they would be performing, though they could speculate.

After the drawing of lots, the first group was Fang Wenxia and Li Yan. As veteran voice actors with countless classic roles between them, their collaboration had occurred only once, five years prior, in a National Day tribute production by CCTV.

The film chronicled the efforts of China’s aerospace engineers to construct the China Space Station and their exploration of Mars.

In their first collaboration, Li Yan and Fang Wenxia coincidentally portrayed a married couple.

In the story, an aging engineer dedicated his entire life to the space program, while his wife served as both his comrade-in-arms and his steadfast support.

The couple never had children, sacrificing their lives entirely to the pursuit of space exploration.

In real life, Li Yan and Fang Wenxia maintained a respectful and formal relationship, mirroring the mutual devotion and unwavering support that defined the older generation’s concept of love, both on and off screen.

This was precisely why they had been invited to participate in “Accompanying the Rest of Our Lives.”

Whether it was them or the old engineer and his wife, all of them had dedicated their lives to embodying the true meaning of “accompanying the rest of our lives.”

Five minutes later, the data collection was complete. As expected, Space Odyssey was the most frequently mentioned title in the comments.

Li Yan and Fang Wenxia weren’t surprised. They simply smiled warmly at each other and began preparing.

The weeks-long rain had finally stopped, leaving the sky exceptionally clear, as if everything could be seen with perfect clarity.

Such clarity had become a rare sight in recent years. Chen Jianming recalled gazing at the sky like this often as a child in the countryside.

From dusk until nightfall, the sunset faded, the crimson sky retreating before the encroaching darkness. Yet the night remained unusually bright, just like those childhood evenings.

“I know you haven’t seen a night like this in a long time, but it’s late now. You should go back and rest. There will be other chances to see it again,” Ju Xiaohua said, draping a coat over Chen Jianming’s shoulders.

“Xiaohua, sometimes when I look at these stars, I feel like I’m seeing our daughter. After all these years, the thought of never seeing them again… it’s hard to let go,” Chen Jianming said, patting his wife’s hand on his shoulder.

“What nonsense are you spouting? The stars in the sky are all our daughters. They’re right there, and we’ll be with them for a long time to come.”

Ju Xiaohua placed her other hand over Chen Jianming’s, their aged hands clasping tightly. They felt the faint warmth passing between them as they gazed silently at the starlit night sky.

“Xiaohua, I’m going to see them now. I’ve been watching them since I was a child, and that gaze has lasted a lifetime. You know, all our lifelong struggles were just to see them… cough, cough… Now, it seems I’ll be joining them before you.”

Chen Jianming coughed twice, but his eyes remained bright and full of life, showing no trace of illness.

“Alright, alright, you go first. You go first. Don’t worry about anything. I’ve been organizing all the data. If you don’t trust others, surely you trust me, right?”

Ju Xiaohua’s eyes reddened, but she didn’t interrupt her husband.

Fang Wenxia’s every word was a heartfelt plea, her barely suppressed sobs bringing tears to the audience’s eyes.

Five years had passed since Li Yan’s death. During that time, Li Yan had also fallen ill. No one knew what Fang Wenxia had been thinking during those countless days of caring for him.

Perhaps because she was closer in age to Ju Xiaohua, Fang Wenxia almost believed for a moment that she was truly speaking with Li Yan.

She didn’t look at the screen, focusing solely on the text. Yet even that made the tip of her nose sting with emotion.

Matters of life and death were always unpredictable. Fang Wenxia didn’t want to think about the day her time would come, and neither did Ju Xiaohua.

But on this starlit night, Ju Xiaohua had lost the person who had shared her joys and sorrows, the one who was supposed to accompany her through the rest of her life.

Chen Jianming sat quietly in his chair, gazing at the stars. He had always been a man of few words.

Whether at the research institute or in their daily lives, Ju Xiaohua had grown accustomed to his quiet nature.

Whenever they had free time, the two often sat together, enjoying the scenery without needing to speak.

But now, Ju Xiaohua felt a sudden pang of fear, afraid to turn her head and confirm whether he was still looking at the stars.

Then, without warning, a tear slipped down her cheek, startling even herself.

Slowly, she turned her head to look at Chen Jianming, lying peacefully in his recliner.

His eyes were closed, as still and quiet as he had been when she first met him, dozing in the sun.

“Don’t walk too fast,” Ju Xiaohua murmured, stroking her husband’s gradually cooling face with a smile. “Slow down a little. I’m old now and can’t keep up with you.”