Chapter Nine: Saving the Day

Tang Zhichu took the guitar from Yang Jiaxing’s hands.

Zhou Yun was a little suspicious—did Tang Zhichu actually know what he was doing, or was he simply trying to break this strange atmosphere?

On the surface, everything seemed harmonious, everyone was cheerful. But to sense the subtle undercurrents beneath, one had to either know Chen Siyang very well, or truly understand oneself.

The moment Tang Zhichu checked the tuning using pure fourths, Zhou Yun realized he was an expert. This relied entirely on the ear—perhaps not perfect pitch, but certainly far superior to her own. Zhou Yun knew her little impromptu plan wouldn’t work anymore.

Just as Chen Siyang herself sensed, Zhou Yun’s actions were deliberate.

Why?

Zhou Yun was a proud girl. From the moment she received not a single text message the previous night, she’d decided to make things more difficult for this female celebrity within the dating show.

And really, who comes on a dating show to earnestly fall in love?

Of course, there were two kinds of people. Sincere ones, naturally. The others, like those Zhou Yun had heard of before—some came for their careers, but in the carefully orchestrated atmosphere and events set up by the production team, with constant interaction with the male guests, they inevitably lost themselves and fell head over heels in the end.

Deep down, Zhou Yun despised these people. Unprofessional.

She had come for her career, and nothing else.

There was one field on the rise—the influencer industry. At present, the top influencers all had major capital backing them; even quite a few celebrities were leaving behind their identities as entertainers to become influencers wholeheartedly.

That’s what Zhou Yun was aiming for as well.

So her guiding principle on the show was to be friendly, make connections, but with one exception—Chen Siyang.

In the professional world, especially among the middle class, women were far more sensitive than men. Zhou Yun could sense that Chen Siyang had her own agenda. But whatever Chen Siyang’s motives, coming on a dating show was, in Zhou Yun’s eyes, a step down—either she lacked talent, or she had no background.

If she played the good girl to the end, her fate would be confined to the circle of the dating show, never breaking out.

That wasn’t what Zhou Yun wanted. She adjusted her strategy on the fly, pulling herself and Chen Siyang into a direct rivalry.

With the public discussing Chen Siyang’s participation, a bit more digging would reveal their story—at the very least, it would attract attention outside the original sphere.

If she could get someone to write some cleverly worded articles tying them together, her plan would be all but set.

Therefore, Zhou Yun sent a text message to Yang Jiaxing.

Among the three male guests, from Zhou Yun’s perspective, only Yang Jiaxing was proactive toward Chen Siyang. He had both the image and the presence, making them the most likely CP.

A love triangle with a female celebrity? Wasn’t that sensational enough?

And, if she could sing better than the female celebrity while vying for the same man—what a hook!

As for falling for anyone, Zhou Yun felt none of the three male guests could move her heart.

What surprised her was that the usually silent Tang Zhichu suddenly intervened.

She realized she had underestimated, or rather, overlooked him—he was simply too inconspicuous.

Tang Zhichu finished tuning, smiled innocently, and said, “All right, who’s going to sing?”

Yang Jiaxing folded his arms, both surprised and doubtful. Did this guy really know what he was doing? Having no musical knowledge himself, he could only look to those who did.

Huang Zejun caught on, his expression shifting several times before settling into a smile. “Well, well, seems everyone here has hidden talents!”

A genuine smile finally appeared on Chen Siyang’s face. Unknowingly, with one small gesture from Tang Zhichu, the whole atmosphere shifted.

“Who wants to sing?” His question echoed the earlier moment when everyone wanted Chen Siyang to sing, but now, no one seemed so inclined.

Yang Jiaxing had been delighted by Zhou Yun’s singing, and now was surprised by Tang Zhichu’s musical skill. Deep down, he even felt a slight sense of defeat—had he become too self-satisfied? Perhaps he wasn’t the most impressive person on this show after all.

Huang Zejun instinctively put on his figurative mask, joking around, sensing he’d missed something important.

Zhou Yun glanced at Tang Zhichu, her gaze deep, and smiled. “How about you sing one? You can’t tell us you can’t sing!”

She realized there was no use targeting Chen Siyang anymore—she’d only embarrass herself.

If she couldn’t even hear the guitar’s tuning, how could she compete with Chen Siyang in singing? That stage for rivalry was gone.

So, Zhou Yun simply changed direction and decided to test Tang Zhichu instead.

Tang Zhichu looked at Zhou Yun; their eyes met. He smiled and replied, “Better let Yangyang sing. I wouldn’t dare show off my meager skills before a master.”

Zhou Yun’s face darkened. There was a trace of irony in his words—not only did he refuse, he also elevated Chen Siyang.

But could she really ask Chen Siyang to sing now?

Zhou Yun cherished her own reputation; there was little point in staging another contest.

If she stopped now, the only one left to sing was herself. After some thought, at least that goal was easily achieved.

“Sister Lan, look at him—not at all obedient!” Zhou Yun pouted, hugging Jiang Lan’s arm, feigning a coquettish tone.

Jiang Lan instinctively shrank away—she wanted no part in their games.

Tang Zhichu shrugged, now fully on guard against Zhou Yun. This girl was not simple.

The atmosphere cooled. Yang Jiaxing opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but nothing seemed appropriate, with no one meeting his gaze. After a moment’s thought, he said, “How about I sing something for you all?”

Chen Siyang lowered her head and sipped her water, not responding.

Huang Zejun’s smile remained mask-like, and he too said nothing.

For the first time, Zhou Yun felt that those who tried to break awkward silences out of some misplaced sense of responsibility were rather dull—almost foolish.

Jiang Lan simply stared blankly, lost in her own thoughts.

Tang Zhichu, however, merely smiled and handed the guitar back.

Yang Jiaxing looked embarrassed. “I… I can’t play.”

Fortunately, the production team stepped in to break the deadlock—a staff member knocked and delivered a card.

Tomorrow was Saturday, and in the afternoon there would be a date activity: the boys would each invite a girl in a blind selection.

What did that mean? Each of the three men would prepare a gift, and the women would choose among them. Whoever chose a particular gift would go on a date with its giver.

Seeing the rules, Tang Zhichu was a bit puzzled. What was the point of this blind invitation? Stirring up drama? Encouraging multiple relationships? Adding variety to the show? Preventing love at first sight and premature pairings?

Tang Zhichu thought the director lacked boldness. Why not let everyone openly invite each other—that would be far more exciting, straight to the point.

No wonder this dating show was failing.

Serves them right.

...

Late at night, Tang Zhichu lay awake in bed.

He wasn’t thinking about the affairs within the villa, but rather his own private matters. His gravely ill father weighed heavily on his mind.

Tang Zhichu decided he had to find time to visit. Otherwise, he would keep dwelling on it.

He took out his phone. During tonight’s texting segment, the male guests had each received a message.

“Can I hear you sing a song?” This was from Chen Siyang.

After the tuning incident, no one doubted Tang Zhichu could sing, yet he had refused Zhou Yun.

So, Chen Siyang’s message seemed a little competitive, perhaps even a touch coquettish.

Tang Zhichu turned off his phone, rolled over, and prepared to sleep.