Chapter 36: A Little Intoxicating

Tonight’s gathering gradually drew to a close after everyone returned home.

Ji Jia Jia claimed she was tired, rubbed her neck, and retired to her room. Chu Yao had gone to the bathroom earlier and never came out again; Li Jia Yan sensed something was wrong and went upstairs to check on her roommate. Ye Fang Fei’s phone rang with a work call; to avoid the cameras, she stepped outside to take it. Xu Jun Ze was alone in a corner of the second-floor terrace, smoking. Zhang Chen remained on the sofa, his gaze frequently drifting toward the door. Lu Zhou was nestled nearby, engrossed in scrolling through Doule videos.

Wen Yi Ming was called by the staff for a personal interview.

Interview room—

Wen Yi Ming sat before the camera, answering the staff’s questions.

Staff: “If ten is a perfect score, how much did your heart flutter for Li Jia Yan today?”

Wen Yi Ming thought seriously for a moment, then replied, “Four, I suppose.”

Staff: “If you could choose one among the four female guests for your next date, who would it be?”

“Uh…” Wen Yi Ming seemed troubled, pondering for a while before answering, “I’d probably pick Fang Fei. I feel I’ve interacted with her the least and would like to get to know her more.”

Staff: “How did you feel receiving a text from your ex tonight?”

Wen Yi Ming gave a mocking smile. “Pretty baffled. She’s never messaged me before, I don’t understand why she suddenly did tonight, and she asked if I was interested in other girls—it’s just absurd.”

Staff: “Have you considered that it might mean she still wants to get back together with you? Maybe she was sulking before and deliberately didn’t text?”

Wen Yi Ming: “I don’t rule out that possibility. It fits her character.”

“You’ve already developed feelings for other female guests. If your ex wants to reconcile, what would you do? Would you still pursue new connections without hesitation?”

“That’s a sharp question,” Wen Yi Ming said with a surprised smile. “I’d choose to keep pursuing new connections. I don’t believe broken mirrors can be mended.”

Meanwhile, in the second-floor bedroom of the Pink Cottage—

Chu Yao sat before the mirror removing her makeup, her eyes red, clearly having just cried.

When Li Jia Yan returned to the room, she saw Chu Yao like this and, surprised, walked over to embrace her.

“Why are you crying? What happened?”

With Li Jia Yan’s comfort, Chu Yao’s nose turned sour again. She forced a smile and shook her head. “It’s nothing, just a barrier in my heart I can’t seem to get past.”

Li Jia Yan pulled up a chair and sat beside her, gently patting her shoulder, asking softly, “What kind of barrier? Is it related to your ex?”

Chu Yao nodded as she wept, looking truly pitiable.

“If you develop feelings for another guy, do you feel guilty toward your ex?”

“Of course not,” Li Jia Yan replied, handing Chu Yao a tissue to wipe her tears. “Why would you think that? You’ve already broken up. You have every right to pursue new happiness. Why feel guilty toward your ex? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I thought I wouldn’t feel that way…” Chu Yao fanned herself, hiccupping as she spoke. “But tonight, when I got his text, I felt really sad and sorry.”

“Do you still have feelings for him? How long have you two been apart?” Li Jia Yan asked.

“No… no lingering feelings,” Chu Yao finally calmed her tears, her expression settling. “We’ve been apart for a year.”

“A whole year! Girl, since you don’t want to go back, charge forward boldly, okay? Don’t feel guilty, unless you were at fault for the breakup?”

Li Jia Yan suddenly sounded like a big sister, rubbing Chu Yao’s head and encouraging her.

“I wasn’t at fault. In those two years with him, I never did him wrong.”

“Then why make things hard for yourself? Go pursue love bravely!”

With her emotions poured out, Chu Yao’s mood finally lightened. She smiled, wiped away her tears, and asked, “Jia Yan, how long since you broke up with your ex?”

“Us? Ages and ages ago—over six years.”

“Wow?! Really? No wonder you’re so carefree!”

“Haha!”

…

While these two huddled for comfort in their room, Ji Jia Jia in the neighboring room was called out by the show staff for a follow-up interview.

Interview room—

Staff: “During your date with Lu Zhou tonight, did you feel any heart-fluttering moments?”

Ji Jia Jia: “Hmm… To be precise, I did feel a bit of fondness, but I don’t think it counts as heart-fluttering. Tonight, I felt more gratitude toward him as a friend.”

Staff: “You sent your heart-flutter text to your ex. Are you hoping to reconcile?”

Ji Jia Jia shook her head. “No, actually tonight I didn’t send it because I was moved by my ex. I sent it out of curiosity, wanting to take the chance to ask him something.”

Staff: “But it’s a one-way message; you won’t get a reply. Isn’t it impossible to get the answer you want this way?”

Ji Jia Jia: “I can get it. From his reaction to receiving the text, I’ll know.”

Staff: “And what did you find out?”

Ji Jia Jia: “I confirmed he really was moved by Li Jia Yan tonight.”

Staff: “Does this answer affect you?”

Ji Jia Jia shrugged and smiled.

“It reinforces what I already believed—that breaking up was truly the right choice.”

“Can you imagine? We only broke up half a year ago.”

“He’s already perfectly comfortable openly liking and pursuing another girl in front of me. That’s what he calls ‘I don’t give you a sense of security,’ but the truth is, he never gave me that at all.”

As she spoke, Ji Jia Jia’s emotions slipped, anger creeping into her tone.

The interview was forced to end.

Lu Zhou lingered in the living room for a while, feeling a bit weary, and went upstairs to wash up.

Before bed, he got a call from his mother, stepped onto the second-floor terrace to enjoy the night breeze, and spotted Xu Jun Ze alone in the corner, exhaling smoke.

“Something on your mind?” After hanging up, Lu Zhou walked over and asked.

Xu Jun Ze flicked his ash, motioning for Lu Zhou to sit with him.

“If you noticed your ex was clearly interested in another man, would you feel jealous?” His question was deep.

Lu Zhou, since hearing his ex’s recording, had thought Xu Jun Ze was the type who lingered over his ex, but his attachment was more restrained than Zhang Chen’s overt passion.

“I’m not like you. I don’t have lingering feelings for my ex, so I don’t mind who she’s interested in,” Lu Zhou said, patting Xu Jun Ze’s shoulder.

Xu Jun Ze exhaled smoke, poked his chest with a finger, and said, “It hurts like hell right here.”

“Have you tried talking to her alone?” Lu Zhou asked curiously.

Xu Jun Ze shook his head. “No, I always feel she’s deliberately avoiding me.”

“That’s tricky. You want to reconcile, but she’s dodging you—nothing you can do.”

When it came to matters of love, Lu Zhou had little experience and could only empathize, hoping to lift Xu Jun Ze’s spirits.

“Try to find a chance to have a proper talk with her.”

“I didn’t expect the aftermath of this show to hit so hard,” Xu Jun Ze said with a bitter smile. “I’m getting really invested.”

Lu Zhou smiled and patted his shoulder. “I understand.”

“I doubt you do; you don’t have my troubles,” Xu Jun Ze grumbled.

After a short chat, Xu Jun Ze received a message from the show to do a follow-up interview and left.

Lu Zhou remained, studying Doule videos. His account had only posted some dance practice clips before, nothing special, with low views and few followers.

He decided to reposition the account, setting all previous content to private.

A fresh start!

As he was absorbed in tinkering, a figure emerged at the terrace entrance.

Lu Zhou looked up, realizing it was Ye Fang Fei.

…

Ye Fang Fei stepped out, phone in hand, sending a voice message, her attention elsewhere.

“That’s easy, I’ll film it now and send it to you in half an hour.”

After putting her phone away, she noticed Lu Zhou, raising her eyebrows in surprise. “You again, huh.”

Indeed, two nights in a row at almost the same time and place—anyone would think it was arranged!

Lu Zhou was a bit baffled himself. Was this fate?

“Swimming again tonight?” Lu Zhou joked.

Her outfit made it clear she wasn’t; she wore a black sports ensemble, obviously not for swimming.

Ye Fang Fei knew he was joking and pointed to the floor-to-ceiling window. “No, just finding a mirror to practice dance.”

Lu Zhou was about to leave, but hearing she was about to practice dance, he was curious.

Ye Fang Fei was a rising singing-and-dancing star. He’d never seen her dance up close—he couldn’t help but want to watch.

“Mind having an audience?” Lu Zhou smiled.

“Doesn’t matter,” Ye Fang Fei said, pulling up the choreography video her manager sent, then suddenly looked at Lu Zhou with a thought. “How about you stop being my audience and act as my temporary cameraman?”

Lu Zhou got up and walked over. “Happy to help, but my skills aren’t great. If the result’s bad, don’t blame me.”

Ye Fang Fei smiled and tossed her phone to him. “Just tap the record button and hold it steady. That you can do, right?”

“Of course…”

“That’s all I need. No technique required. Just be my selfie stick.”

Carefree and casual—that seemed to be Ye Fang Fei’s style.

Lu Zhou grinned, took her phone, and saw on the lit screen a short dance video. The music was “Heartbreak Frontline Alliance.”

He was a bit surprised, expecting her to dance her own routine, but apparently she was filming a parody.

The dance was simple; for a professional, it wouldn’t take long to learn.

Facing the floor-to-ceiling window, Ye Fang Fei effortlessly copied every move.

She was light and agile, her hips twisting skillfully. She didn’t need Lu Zhou to play the BGM repeatedly; she hummed the tune herself, keeping perfect rhythm.

In just a few seconds, Lu Zhou could tell her singing and dancing foundation was solid—her breathing never faltered, and she performed with ease.

She was a formidable opponent; if given the chance, he’d love to spar with her one day.

“All right, let’s go!” Ye Fang Fei, satisfied with her rehearsal, beckoned Lu Zhou to start filming.

Lu Zhou pointed the phone’s camera at her, started the music, and she nailed the choreography in one take.

Ye Fang Fei reviewed the video, frowning slightly, seemingly dissatisfied.

“Something wrong? Want me to reshoot?” Lu Zhou asked.

“It’s good—the moves and timing are all perfect. But because it’s flawless, I feel like something’s missing.”

“Maybe what’s missing is that the dance was too conventional for you?” Lu Zhou offered his opinion.

Ye Fang Fei’s eyes brightened, as if awakened. She clapped her hands. “Exactly! Too conventional! I hate conventional.”

“Why not try a comedic style? The music suits it,” Lu Zhou suggested.

“Like what?”

“Keep the choreography, but tweak the expressions and some moves—the effect will come through.”

“You seem to have a vision in mind?” Ye Fang Fei raised her eyebrows, gesturing for him to show. “Give us a demo, Lu Zhou.”

For dancers, there’s no shame in performing.

Lu Zhou handed his phone to Ye Fang Fei. “I need some BGM for the vibe.”

Music on—

“One, two, three, go!”

Lu Zhou struck a few exaggerated poses, still serious at first, but at the “da! da! da!” beat, he suddenly dropped his cool persona, flashing a mischievous grin at Ye Fang Fei.

He matched the rhythm, puffing his chest and shaking his legs bizarrely, his expressions over-the-top and playful.

While dancing, Lu Zhou never forgot his face—biting his lip, raising his eyebrows, totally different from his usual self: a born comedian.

Ye Fang Fei couldn’t help herself and burst out laughing.

“What are you doing!”

She laughed, covering her eyes, but peeked through her fingers to keep watching.

It was ridiculous, but strangely addictive.

“That’s the idea,” Lu Zhou said after the brief demo.

“But this silly style might not suit you—it’s not very Ye Fang Fei,” said Lu Zhou, brushing his hair back.

“No, I like trying new things,” Ye Fang Fei replied, her smile lingering. “It’s pretty crazy—I want to give it a go.”

“Where are you posting this? What’s the context?” Lu Zhou suddenly asked.

“On Doule—my debut post for the platform.”

“Debut? Then maybe use the first video—it fits your image better.”

“I want to try. Help me film another,” Ye Fang Fei insisted.

“All right then.”

Lu Zhou took back his phone, preparing to film, but as he searched for the right angle, he noticed Zhang Chen leaning against the doorframe, holding a cup of water, silently watching him and Ye Fang Fei.

Lu Zhou: …

Why was this guy always popping up out of nowhere?

The music started; Lu Zhou didn’t greet Zhang Chen, focusing on the filming.

Ye Fang Fei’s learning ability was strong. This time, she distilled the essence of Lu Zhou’s version and added her own flair.

Her exaggerated expressions and flamboyant moves gave her an indescribable comedic charm.

Lu Zhou had never seen this side of Ye Fang Fei, nor had Zhang Chen. He’d been sulking, drinking his water, but when he saw her quirky dance, he choked and sprayed his drink.

By chance, Lu Zhou captured this moment on video.

The joker danced wildly, the audience burst out laughing—the video’s goofy vibe was complete.

After recording, Ye Fang Fei watched the replay and laughed at herself.

Zhang Chen came over with his water, joining the fun.

For once, Ye Fang Fei actively interacted with him, showing both videos and asking, “Which version do you like better?”

Zhang Chen’s mood had clearly improved. He pretended to be serious, analyzing the two contrasting dance styles: “The first is prettier; the second… Is that even Ye Fang Fei? I think the first is better.”

Ye Fang Fei listened intently, nodded, and snapped her fingers. “Alright, I’ve decided—I’ll use the second one!”

Zhang Chen: …

Lu Zhou: … What kind of rivals were these two? Quite amusing.

“You just want to do the opposite of what I say, huh?” Zhang Chen grumbled.

“No, I just prefer the second—it’s true to myself,” Ye Fang Fei said, and sent the silly dance video to her manager.

When rivals spar, it’s easy to catch others in the crossfire. Lu Zhou quickly excused himself, claiming he was tired, and slipped away.

From afar, he could still faintly hear their conversation—

“You’re using the second version, but I’m in the shot. Is that okay?”

“Don’t worry, my team will put a heavy mosaic over you.”

“…”