Chapter Thirty-Nine: Thought He Was a Master

At noon, Chen Siyang brought Tang Zhichu to the cafeteria.

The two of them found a spot where there weren’t many people. As soon as they sat down, Chen Siyang picked out all the meat from her tray and gave it to Tang Zhichu.

“Bored?” Chen Siyang asked.

Tang Zhichu shook his head.

“This is what I have to do every morning,” Chen Siyang said. “You always say I look miserable, but maybe it’s just exhaustion—or maybe it’s a bit of confusion. My mind feels empty, so I don’t think about anything else, and naturally there’s no expression on my face...” She finished with an embarrassed little laugh, as if revealing her own shortcomings was a bit awkward.

Tang Zhichu placed a chicken drumstick from his own tray onto hers. “You’re all really impressive.”

“Really? But the truth is, none of us have any projects right now.”

Tang Zhichu could sense a certain pressure—not from Chen Siyang herself, but perhaps from someone coaching her behind the scenes.

Within this reality show, the two were growing closer, yet the initial motivation hadn’t been romance at all.

If they stayed clear-headed, there were bound to be many more considerations.

Objectively speaking, the current conflict between them lay in their differing views on careers.

Chen Siyang was presenting her true self to Tang Zhichu, and also to the audience, showing them her hard work and dedication. Was this some kind of foreshadowing? Or a leap of faith?

Tang Zhichu never regarded anyone with complete trust or total suspicion; perhaps both possibilities existed.

Now, he felt the pressure shifting onto himself.

“Don’t worry, I believe in you,” Tang Zhichu said, his mind racing, though his words were gentle and reassuring.

Chen Siyang murmured her agreement, then urged, “Come on, let’s eat.”

In the afternoon, Chen Siyang still had classes—not as a student, but as a teacher to a group of trainees.

In the practice studio, Tang Zhichu sat on the floor, quietly watching them dance.

Chen Siyang moved among the group, correcting minor mistakes as she spotted them, pausing the class to address bigger issues, then having everyone start over.

In this role, her cool exterior was gone. Arms folded, face stern, whether correcting or demonstrating, the music seemed to flow from within her.

“Hey, are you really Ms. Chen’s boyfriend?” a boy of about eighteen or nineteen asked, handing a bottle of water to Tang Zhichu as he settled down beside him.

“Thanks, but not yet,” Tang Zhichu replied, accepting the water.

Hearing “not yet,” the boy grinned and gave him a thumbs-up.

“Ms. Chen is amazing, and she’s gentle too. If you really manage to win her over, that’s something else—she’s elegant, knows her way around the kitchen, and is gentle and considerate.”

Tang Zhichu laughed, “Is that really how you feel?”

“Of course! Who here doesn’t know Ms. Chen? She’s our goddess.”

At that moment, Chen Siyang glanced over with a stern look. “Tu Jiaxiang, you’re not paying attention. One hundred push-ups. Now.”

The boy’s face fell dark. He muttered under his breath, “She’s not always gentle,” and then hurried off to do his punishment.

Most of the others tried to contain their laughter, muffling it behind their hands.

Tang Zhichu suddenly realized that when Chen Siyang had held his hand earlier, it wasn’t such a bold move after all—at least not here, in her domain, where she was completely in her element.

“All right, everyone, let’s continue. You can rejoin when you’re done,” Chen Siyang said, clapping her hands.

Half an hour passed in dancing before they were allowed a break.

Tang Zhichu sat on the floor, leaning against the mirrored wall of the studio. He smiled at Chen Siyang, who sat beside him. “They all seem a little afraid of you.”

“It’s the system. Our company has a very well-established system. You have to respect your seniors when you see them, and cultivating this habit really helps them when they enter the industry,” Chen Siyang explained, but it was clear she was a bit flattered.

Between her and Tang Zhichu, he had always been the more assertive one, which made her seem a little weaker.

“No, it’s not just the system—it’s because you’re really exceptional. I watched your acting class closely this morning, and I think you were the best.”

“Keep your voice down.”

“But it’s true. Everyone else kept cranking up the emotions, but you held back, and that contrast was so striking.”

“Okay, okay, keep your voice down—there are other seniors around.”

Outwardly, Chen Siyang demurred, insisting she still had a lot to learn, but inside, she was delighted.

She knew she’d been performing well, especially these past few days—her progress had been obvious.

Tang Zhichu leaned in a bit. “I’ll keep my voice down. You’re amazing at dancing too, though it’s almost scary to watch—you can stretch your left leg all the way to your right ear. How is it possible for someone to be so talented? Great at acting, great at dancing, and beautiful too... Ow, why did you pinch me?”

Chen Siyang’s cheeks grew a little pink from his direct praise. He was always so blunt, but she couldn’t help enjoying it—it made her feel less tired.

“That’s why they all respect you—because of your professionalism. Now look, I’ve become your little fan too,” Tang Zhichu said, protecting his thigh and laughing.

Chen Siyang simply covered her ears, pretending not to listen.

She didn’t notice her trainees, who, as she spoke to Tang Zhichu, all lifted their heads as if they could overhear everything. When she pinched his thigh, some of the girls subconsciously rubbed their own legs, as if they’d felt it themselves.

Tang Zhichu noticed the boy who had brought him water, who was now grinning at him with a wide, toothy smile.

Suddenly, Tang Zhichu stood up, imitating Chen Siyang’s stern tone: “How about I teach everyone a really refreshing little social dance?”

The trainees who had been sneaking glances over immediately perked up.

“Yeah!”

“Let’s do it!”

“Wow, you can dance too?” someone called out.

Tang Zhichu strolled over to the sound system, waving to Chen Siyang to join him.

She jogged over, looking nervous. “What are you going to do?”

He pulled out his phone. “I’ll send you a BGM—play it for me, okay?”

Could Tang Zhichu dance?

In his previous life, he’d been the owner of a viral video company, and he’d built it up himself—mainly working on DY. He might not have been a classically trained dancer, but he certainly knew plenty of niche moves. For example, the famous “Ace of Spades”—he’d even posted a video of it, which got a lot of likes.

A group of youths, some as young as thirteen or fourteen, watched as Tang Zhichu moved into the center of the practice room and pulled his cap down low.

Someone started to hype up the atmosphere, whooping and cheering.

Tang Zhichu nodded at Chen Siyang.

The music started.

At first, it was a light, fresh bit of electronica—Tang Zhichu simply nodded along with the beat.

Everyone grew more expectant. He looked like an expert!

Suddenly, the BGM shifted—a drumbeat kicked in.

Tang Zhichu immediately dropped into a half-crouch, flinging his arms in an exaggerated motion, first outward, then inward, legs swaying left and right.

The scene became surreal. The music was full of energy, and this tall, handsome man was doing the most bizarre dance moves. The others just stared, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, still processing what they were seeing.

At first, Chen Siyang had been full of anticipation. The moment she saw Tang Zhichu’s moves, though, she immediately covered her face and turned away, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

Then, the whole practice room erupted with laughter, flooding the space like a tidal wave.

They’d thought he was an expert, and he was—just not in the way they’d expected.

It was “Orange Justice,” a silly, addictive little dance.

When the music stopped, only then did Tang Zhichu dare to push his cap up a little—he was worried someone might have recorded it.

Well, let them record it, as long as his face wasn’t visible.

Seeing everyone doubled over with laughter, Tang Zhichu shrugged at Chen Siyang, feigning injury. She burst out laughing again.

Once everyone had quieted down, Tang Zhichu grinned and said, “Dreams are important, but happiness matters even more. Who wants to learn?”

In unison, everyone shouted, “We do!”