Chapter Fifty-Eight: The Wise Avoid the River of Love

Zhou Yun returned from buying groceries and saw Tang Zhichu holding an iron basin, using a blowtorch to ignite charcoal—preparing for a barbecue that evening.

Nearby, Chen Siyang was threading skewers, stringing meat and vegetables together. Neither of them spoke.

Zhou Yun and Jiang Lan exchanged a glance; one shrugged, the other shook her head.

A bag of garlic landed in front of Tang Zhichu, startling her. She turned her head and saw Zhou Yun.

Zhou Yun had also brought over a small stool and sat down in front of Tang Zhichu, sighing first.

“Something on your mind?” Tang Zhichu asked.

“What is love, anyway?” Zhou Yun mused as she settled onto the stool and began peeling garlic.

Tang Zhichu replied, “What do you know about it?”

Zhou Yun smiled, “Honestly, nothing at all.”

So, Zhou Yun peeled garlic for a while, then suddenly said, “Hey, I was so good to you at first—even brought you medicine. Why didn’t you choose me?”

Tang Zhichu considered it and was about to answer when Zhou Yun shook her head, “Never mind, I don’t want to hear it.”

As she peeled garlic, Zhou Yun wondered: If Tang Zhichu had chosen her from the start, would she have picked Yang Jiaxing to counter Chen Siyang?

From a rational perspective, she probably still would.

But emotionally, Zhou Yun hesitated.

She had intended to tease Tang Zhichu, but found herself unexpectedly moody, so she clapped her hands and got up.

Jiang Lan delivered the groceries to Huang Zejun, who was washing vegetables.

The two exchanged a smile, a sense of things having changed between them.

Zhou Yun approached, “Brother Jun, let me help you wash the vegetables.”

Huang Zejun nodded with a smile, “Sure.”

Jiang Lan smiled at Zhou Yun and left.

Zhou Yun sat opposite Huang Zejun. In the past, Huang Zejun might have wondered if Zhou Yun was interested in him. But now, he was less restless.

Actually, ever since his relationship with Tang Zhichu improved, his interactions with Zhou Yun had been pleasant—they were good friends.

“Brother Jun, what will you do after the show ends?” Zhou Yun asked.

Huang Zejun laughed, “The same as before, I suppose.”

“Continue with the media company?”

“Not sure.”

“I think we should talk. I’m actually quite interested in media. Maybe you could give me some pointers?”

Huang Zejun glanced at Zhou Yun with suspicion, thinking she might be after his company as well—especially with Tang Zhichu’s prior involvement, he was a bit sensitive about it.

So, he said cautiously, “Honestly, I’d advise you not to get involved. It’s a tough industry. I’m planning to get out myself.”

Zhou Yun paused, then said, “Maybe I’m just stubborn. Did you say you’re planning to get out?”

“Mm.”

“How about… how about I take it off your hands? Save me from making mistakes?”

Zhou Yun was perhaps too optimistic about how smoothly this conversation would go. Her plan was to lay the groundwork now and discuss details after the show. It was actually quite complicated.

She even considered selling her gym, so she could take on that contract with the internet celebrity embroiled in a lawsuit—essentially helping Huang Zejun handle the messy business. For him, it would mean walking away with the money, free and easy.

Huang Zejun, hearing Zhou Yun’s words, thought, “Just as I suspected.”

He sighed at his own naivety; it seemed most participants in this season had their issues.

Huang Zejun suddenly gave a wry smile and said, “You’re too late.”

“Too… too late?”

“Yeah, let me tell you a secret.”

He grabbed a bamboo skewer and wrote on the ground, “Zhichu is now my boss.”

Zhou Yun’s expression shifted from confusion to surprise, then to anger.

Huang Zejun chuckled and wiped away the words, thinking, “Though Zhichu is my boss now, I don’t mind giving her a bit of trouble.”

If she’s so capable, let her handle it herself.

Zhou Yun gritted her teeth, “When did that happen?”

“Just a few days ago, when Zhichu came to learn photography from me.”

Zhou Yun said nothing, washed her hands in the basin, and returned to her tent.

Huang Zejun wondered if he’d gone too far. Was it really that serious?

He pondered, then stood up and went to Tang Zhichu, leaning down to whisper a few words in her ear.

Tang Zhichu glanced at Zhou Yun’s tent and said to Huang Zejun, “It’s fine.”

As dusk settled, Tang Zhichu naturally took charge as head chef and began grilling skewers.

A generous heap of chicken wings, then beef and lamb—the principle was, the first round must be meat, and plenty of it.

“How about adding an eggplant?” Chen Siyang suggested.

Tang Zhichu nodded.

Chen Siyang brought over an eggplant, “How do you grill this? Can you show me?”

“Give it to me. I’ll grill it, you go sit.”

Chen Siyang bit her lip but went to sit.

What should have been a party felt nothing like one.

Zhou Yun and Chen Siyang sat at opposite ends of the long table, silent and lacking enthusiasm.

Yang Jiaxing and Jiang Lan sat in the middle, chatting occasionally.

Huang Zejun brought a handful of chicken feet to Tang Zhichu.

Tang Zhichu waved him off, “Leave them for now, there’s no room on the grill.”

Huang Zejun shook his head—his intention was to offer a way out, since Chen Siyang liked chicken feet; why not ease the tension, even if it was serious?

Clearly, Tang Zhichu wasn’t interested.

Huang Zejun returned to the table, glanced at Zhou Yun, blaming himself for meddling—why did he always stir things up? He just liked seeing people uncomfortable.

Chen Siyang and Tang Zhichu already had issues, and now he’d dragged Zhou Yun into it. Well, now there was no one to liven up the mood. What now?

So Huang Zejun suggested, “How about we sing?”

He looked at Chen Siyang and Zhou Yun, but neither moved nor even looked up.

Yang Jiaxing said, “Sure, let’s sing!”

Jiang Lan clapped, “Let’s do it! What do you want to sing? I’ll queue it up.”

The karaoke setup was at the other end of the table, opposite the grill.

Jiang Lan stood up, naturally pulling Chen Siyang along, then brought Zhou Yun too.

A few stools were set out, and Jiang Lan began selecting songs.

With music playing, the atmosphere improved noticeably.

Chen Siyang suddenly said, “Lan, help me queue ‘Can’t Figure You Out.’”

“Of course! I’ll add it now.”

Zhou Yun said, “Lan, help me queue ‘Only Someone With Rotten Luck Would Meet You.’”

Jiang Lan looked at Zhou Yun, “Is that a real song?”

Zhou Yun replied confidently, “Absolutely!”

Chen Siyang added, “Lan, queue ‘Why Are You Like a Girl?’ for me too.”

Jiang Lan looked at Chen Siyang, “Is that one real?”

Chen Siyang shrugged, “No idea, give it a try.”

Jiang Lan sighed and tried entering the title—turns out it existed!

Nearby, Yang Jiaxing handed Huang Zejun a bottle of beer, grinning, “Strange people, picking strange songs.”

Huang Zejun shrugged, clinked bottles with Yang Jiaxing, and said, “The wise never fall in love.”