Chapter Eight: Taking Action

Yang Jiaxing spoke with ease, while Huang Zejun wore a half-smile, as though he saw through everything. The reason Huang Zejun mentioned the song “BLUE” was because Chen Siyang had sung it before. When he brought up the song, Chen Siyang even glanced sideways at him, but Huang Zejun pretended not to notice.

“Siyang, how about singing one? We could do a duet,” Huang Zejun said, turning to her as soon as Yang Jiaxing finished his speech.

Chen Siyang quickly shook her head. “No, please, it’s been ages since I last sang.”

Zhou Yun, who had been leaning against Jiang Lan all this time, immediately sat up when she heard this. “Come on, let’s hear one! I remember when you were in that idol group, you sang ‘Good Morning, Good Morning’—it was so nice!”

Yang Jiaxing, having momentarily failed to keep up with the conversation, now caught on and joined in enthusiastically. “Then we’re in for a treat tonight!”

Three pairs of expectant eyes fixed upon her, and Chen Siyang hesitated. She knew her own singing ability well enough—if she were truly so gifted, she wouldn’t have ended up in a girl group. Acting was her forte. At first, Chen Siyang had thought she sang decently, but during the idol competition, there were many whose singing far surpassed hers. The judges had even criticized her vocal skills.

After that, Chen Siyang seldom sang and focused on honing her acting.

“You really want me to sing?” she asked, forcing a smile.

“Go on,” Huang Zejun encouraged, “I’ll accompany you.”

This was precisely why he’d brought his guitar—he needed something to create a special memory between them.

Seeing her still hesitate, Huang Zejun was about to speak again when Zhou Yun interjected, “How about I go first, break the ice? It’s just for fun, don’t hold back, Siyang.”

Hearing this, Huang Zejun agreed. It was better to set the mood before letting go.

“Which song do you want to sing?” he asked Zhou Yun.

She simply reached out her hand. “Let me do it myself.”

Huang Zejun was a little surprised but handed her the guitar nonetheless.

Receiving the guitar with excitement, Zhou Yun tested the sound, then grinned. “Here’s a little tribute!”

Her fingers danced across the strings, and a lively melody filled the room.

Listen—
It must be the cat who set the alarm
Its paw prints left on my face
Dazed, it’s chilly outside the covers
The curtain seems to be taunting me...

The moment Zhou Yun began to sing, everyone fell silent with amazement.

Her speaking voice was already pleasant, but singing made it even more so. Tang Zhichu looked at her, eyes full of surprise at her outstanding tone and sense of pitch; her vocal projection was powerful—he would never believe she wasn’t a professional.

Suddenly, a flash of realization struck him. Looking over at Chen Siyang, he seemed to understand Zhou Yun’s purpose for coming. It appeared he had underestimated her.

The song was called “Good Morning, Good Morning.”

Yang Jiaxing recovered from his astonishment, his eyes lighting up as he raised both thumbs toward Zhou Yun, who was still singing. Now, he thought, this woman really had something special.

Good morning, good morning,
Good morning, good morning
On this proud morning
Let’s light up the dark night
Let’s simmer our sorrows into soup...

When she sang, Zhou Yun radiated confidence. Her fair skin flushed lightly, her eyes were large and her lashes long, her hair thick and glossy. If one were to borrow words from the internet, her beauty was of the sophisticated kind.

Jiang Lan, seated beside her, quietly observed the expressions of the men present.

It was clear that showcasing oneself was effective; those overlooked beauties suddenly stood out.

She also glanced at Chen Siyang, feeling a pang of sympathy, but this was a game Siyang would have to navigate on her own.

Jiang Lan was much like Tang Zhichu in this little villa: silent, reticent, but not uninvolved. In fact, she was even more perceptive, since Zhou Yun had been warm and friendly toward her from the start—on the very first day, Zhou Yun had pulled her along to be roommates.

As for her feelings, Jiang Lan liked Zhou Yun and Chen Siyang about the same.

Zhou Yun was obviously purposeful—Jiang Lan could sense that—but what about Chen Siyang? As an entertainer on a dating show, surely she knew this wasn’t the place for anything real?

But none of that really mattered; who here was genuinely looking for love?

So Jiang Lan always remained somewhat detached, more like an observer. That was her clarity—why get involved in something when you could see the ending from the start?

Zhou Yun finished her song amid exclamations and applause.

A bit embarrassed, she buried her head against Jiang Lan.

“Well done, Yun, you really were hiding your talents!” Huang Zejun praised.

Yang Jiaxing, wanting to compliment her too but glancing at Chen Siyang beside him, muttered quietly, “I underestimated you.”

Zhou Yun stood up, her brow arching in delight. She handed the guitar to Chen Siyang. “Not pretty enough, but still a tribute!”

Since Chen Siyang had performed this song back in her idol group days, Zhou Yun’s “tribute” was well justified.

Huang Zejun, sensing the atmosphere was just right, immediately started clapping. “Come on, Siyang, your turn!”

Yang Jiaxing looked expectant, even taking the guitar from Zhou Yun to hand it more conveniently to Chen Siyang.

Chen Siyang’s expression was blank as she looked at Zhou Yun. She could play the guitar, and her skill was on par with what Zhou Yun had just shown. But Zhou Yun’s vocal prowess was simply too impressive.

From what Chen Siyang knew, Zhou Yun’s timbre was remarkable—outstanding even among professionals. Her breath control was flawless, so much so that it was impossible to hear any breathiness, which only enhanced her projection.

A tribute?

To Chen Siyang, it felt less like a tribute and more as though a flag of challenge was being waved directly in her face.

But this was a difficult situation to resolve. As Huang Zejun had noticed, the atmosphere was already set—if she didn’t sing, it seemed she couldn’t handle it; if she did, she’d be playing right into Zhou Yun’s hands.

Chen Siyang sighed inwardly. She’d thought that being outside the entertainment circle would spare her from these little power plays. Was she really not suited for this job?

Zhou Yun reclined on the sofa, still draped over Jiang Lan, looking at Chen Siyang with an expression of keen anticipation. But only she knew what that anticipation truly meant.

Just then, a hand reached out. Everyone looked over in confusion and saw that it belonged to Tang Zhichu.

Noticing their gazes, Tang Zhichu smiled faintly. “The guitar’s a bit out of tune. Let me adjust it for you.”

At his words, the expressions around the room shifted subtly.

Huang Zejun frowned, surprised and puzzled. Surprised that Tang Zhichu would speak up at such a moment—sure, the mood was lively, but wasn’t he getting ahead of himself? And did he really know what he was doing?

Yang Jiaxing looked openly displeased. Was this really the time to show off? After all the effort the guys had put in to give the female lead her moment, did he have to steal the scene?

Zhou Yun’s expression darkened for a moment, but then she looked at Tang Zhichu with renewed interest.

Jiang Lan seemed thoughtful.

Chen Siyang was surprised at first, then warmed, and then a bit annoyed with herself.

She was surprised because Tang Zhichu had evidently noticed the situation and stepped in to help—just for that, she thought, sending him the text earlier had been worthwhile.

But the annoyance? That came from realizing that, in Tang Zhichu’s eyes, if he hadn’t stepped in, she would have been outshone by Zhou Yun, at least in singing. Otherwise, why would he need to help her?

Though she felt indignant, she couldn’t deny he had a point—singing was indeed her weak spot.