Chapter 91

Chapter 91

An Ye, with a face full of killing intent, almost exploded in anger, causing the hot search for the bathroom incident. However, Qi Wei didn’t take any action.

For some reason, even Huànzhòu didn’t do anything.

As a result, the trending topic was very lighthearted, with people not needing to guess much. In the second group, there was only one male "ordinary person" — the third one. After falling into the water, he wasn’t taken away by his manager but went directly with the staff to the production team's main filming base.

Moreover, during the extended one-hour cooking broadcast, it seemed like both An Ye and the third person had completely let go.

First, An Ye silently squatted by the sink, dealing with the fish. The third person walked over naturally, handed her a clean pair of gloves, and even helped her clean out the fish’s insides that were left aside.

Later, when they made a chicken hotpot, after the chicken soup was done, the third person adjusted the seasoning. An Ye didn’t know when, but she ended up standing beside him. He casually served her a bowl of the soup.

An Ye stood next to him, slowly sipping the soup, while the third person busied himself with chopping vegetables.

The two didn’t talk throughout.

But this made the live comments explode with question marks.

The microscope-wielding "shipper" fans quickly discovered something even more astonishing. An Ye’s signature ear cartilage piercing, which was there from the time she debuted, was also found on the third person’s ear. After doing a detailed high-definition screenshot enlargement and repair, they realized that it might be the same piercing.

An Ye had this piercing when she first started, and there were many red carpet photos where jewelry sponsors focused on her ear cartilage piercing. Many high-definition close-ups would focus on her left face, and even the understated black zircon earrings she wore were often labeled as "An Ye's style" on major online shopping platforms.

Finding a similar style wasn’t surprising; after all, it’s possible to find an identical item among various copies.

It wasn’t unusual for someone to have the same piercing on the same ear either, since ear cartilage piercings aren’t something new.

However, someone dug up an old photo from when Qi Qingze and An Ye were rumored to be a couple. It was from a back alley hot search, and in that picture, the tall bodyguard, who never had his face shown, also had an ear cartilage piercing on his left ear.

Then there was the incident during the Lantern Festival livestream, where an accident almost occurred.

Suddenly, the topic of An Ye possibly being in a romantic relationship made it to the hot search.

At the same time, the "Guess the Heterosexual Friend" segment started. Lü Yīfēi and Xiè Xiǎolíng’s line was predictable; Lü Yīfēi had already mentioned the person's name halfway through the show.

The remaining line that seemed like a sure thing should have been An Ye and Chí Tuō.

But an hour into the guessing segment, An Ye and Guān Shèngyǔ’s votes for being heterosexual friends surged to first place, double the votes of the second-place contestants.

Second place was already semi-public — Lü Yīfēi and Xiè Xiǎolíng.

During the hour-long live broadcast and one-hour recorded cooking show, no one noticed any close interactions between An Ye and Guān Shèngyǔ. Even after the groups were divided, An Ye, who usually wouldn’t show her likes or dislikes in front of the camera, calmly confronted Guān Shèngyǔ.

This bizarre voting result filled the comments under the official blog with question marks. However, no matter how much Lü Yīfēi and Xiè Xiǎolíng's votes grew, An Ye and Guān Shèngyǔ’s votes would always steadily increase after a while.

Qi Wei stared at the online trend for a while, smiled, and sent a message in the work group.

Wéi Qí: [@Xiǎo é, you can start preparing the long Weibo post now. Send it to me when you're done.]

Xiǎo é: [Mm.]

After dinner on the "Heterosexual Friends" show, the recording continued.

The dinner competition between the two groups had no suspense. An Ye’s group had a BBQ shop owner, Zhāng Sēnlín, a professional, and their three meats, three vegetables, and one soup combo easily won.

In the end, the accommodation arrangements for the night were set. Lü Yīfēi, Zhao Pi, and Chí Tuō shared a small room with bunk beds. Guān Shèngyǔ and Zhāng Sēnlín slept in the three-bedroom suite. For the women’s side, Diāo Tóng, An Ye, and Zhao Pi's friend, graduate student Zhāo Qióng, stayed in the large suite, while Yáo Ruò and Xiè Xiǎolíng slept in the bunk beds.After filming the reactions of the ten people being assigned to rooms, the production team turned off the cameras and communicated the schedule for tomorrow. Due to the accident earlier today, the original jungle jumping activity was canceled. Tomorrow’s entire schedule would be spent visiting the resort, which had a small historical museum. The itinerary for the day would involve touring the museum and then doing some small interactive games in the small square in front of the museum.

The live broadcast would continue as a follow-up to today’s broadcast. The program would reveal who the "ordinary person's" celebrity friend was. They would have interviews while eating, talking about how they knew each other. Of course, because of Qi Wei’s insistence, the interview script was given to them in advance.

An Ye and Chí Tuō both went through it. It was full of standard questions.

“How are you sleeping tonight?” After the production team removed the cameras from the room, a few of the participants were still downstairs in the living room. An Ye nudged Chí Tuō with her elbow.

He wasn’t paying much attention, having been staring at his phone since earlier.

“What’s with this screenshot and your expression…” Chí Tuō muttered.

An Ye glanced at Chí Tuō’s screen. It was a screenshot from their live broadcast today. Qi Wei had created a fan club for them, named “Chí Jiǔ CP,” and as soon as it was created, it already had over 40,000 fans, all featuring screenshots of the two of them.

Chí Tuō had been scrolling through it for half an hour.

An Ye reached over and locked his phone screen, noticing that his lock screen had already been changed to a screenshot of the two of them together — the one where he handed her the gloves.

Chí Tuō stretched his legs, looking very satisfied.

Being in a public place, An Ye couldn’t just roll her eyes. She, as a refined and low-key actress, calmly extended a hand, reaching behind Chí Tuō to pinch the soft flesh around his waist, out of sight of others.

Chí Tuō immediately sat up straight.

“How are you sleeping tonight?” The person who asked was Zhāo Qióng, who adjusted her glasses and looked a bit dissatisfied. “Zhāo Pi, you fell into the water today, and the third person... Ah, I mean, Lawyer Chí, you’re injured. How are you all fitting into the room?”

The bed in the lower bunk was a large 1.8-meter bed, and the top bunk was a small bed, so two people would have to share the bed.

The room was small, and even the three men standing inside had difficulty moving around.

“I’ll sleep on the sofa in the living room,” Chí Tuō responded. “You two can sleep in the room.”

Lü Yīfēi glanced at Chí Tuō and smiled. “I’ll sleep on the sofa too. You two, the injured ones, should sleep in the bed tonight.”

Lü Yīfēi’s mood was a bit down.

Strictly speaking, it was his fault that the chaos happened when the wire netting between the chickens and geese was moved. He had been scolded by his manager all night, his head aching from the reprimand. Despite working so hard, the program’s results didn’t seem to be as good as Chí Tuō’s.

When his manager showed him the barrage of comments, one comment really stung him: they said the third person’s face was even more attractive with a mask on than his.

So, he had been looking over at Chí Tuō the whole time.

But Chí Tuō, apart from sticking close to An Ye, didn’t seem to care about anything else.

He didn’t care about where they were staying or want to chat with the other participants. He had a strong sense of distance, his muscles were better built than his, and his facial features were indeed more handsome.

Lü Yīfēi: “... Lawyer Chí, are you planning to debut?”

The room fell silent.

Xiè Xiǎolíng rolled her eyes, got up, and slapped Lü Yīfēi lightly before heading to the room to prepare for bed.

Chí Tuō, who had never shown much expression, looked even more blank at this moment. However, he still answered, “No.”

Lü Yīfēi seemed to let out a breath. “Oh.”

He then looked at Chí Tuō’s chest again. The sweatshirt he was wearing was from his favorite brand’s new spring/summer collection, in a gray-purple color block. The fabric was very soft, outlining his body’s contours. This allowed Lü Yīfēi to see Chí Tuō’s chest muscles slightly protruding and his narrow, strong waist.

A “nobody” who wasn’t planning to debut had worked so hard to build such a good body. What was the point?The idol industry is really hard, too competitive…

Lü Yīfēi sighed and then stood up, ready to go to bed. He froze for a moment when he remembered he had said he would sleep in the living room.

Chí Tuō: “…I’ll sleep in the living room. I have trouble sleeping, and I can’t sleep when there are too many people.”

Lü Yīfēi: “…Oh.”

He scratched his head and then entered his room.

After that, one by one, people stood up and went into their rooms. A few minutes later, only An Ye, Chí Tuō, and Guān Shèngyǔ were left in the living room.

“Can I have a word with you?” Guān Shèngyǔ walked over, standing above An Ye and looking down at her.

An Ye looked up at him, her face expressionless, and didn’t speak.

“You can speak here too,” Chí Tuō also looked at him.

Guān Shèngyǔ smiled, his tone mocking: “Miss An, is it that you can’t leave Lawyer Chí for a second now? Do you need to have a lawyer present for even a normal conversation between adults?”

An Ye: “Mm.”

Guān Shèngyǔ: “…”

“I want to talk to you about personal matters,” Guān Shèngyǔ suppressed his anger, trying to lower his posture as much as possible. “It’s related to your future, won’t take much of your time.”

He stood there, not moving, and the staff who had finished work and were casually walking around the resort began to look inside more frequently.

An Ye stood up and glanced at Chí Tuō.

Chí Tuō didn’t move, still sitting, but handed An Ye a voice recorder.

“Where should we talk?” She looked at Guān Shèngyǔ and, in front of him, turned on the recorder. “Sorry, I will be recording our conversation.”

Guān Shèngyǔ pointed toward the door: “…The corridor outside.”

An Ye walked out first.

Before Guān Shèngyǔ followed, he glanced back at Chí Tuō.

Chí Tuō didn’t look at him, just lowered his head and fiddled with his phone.

The calm, assured confidence of Chí Tuō, who clearly didn’t even consider Guān Shèngyǔ a threat, made the anger in Guān Shèngyǔ’s chest flare up again.

This man was just a small-time lawyer. Guān Shèngyǔ had checked on him: no background, no money. The only thing he had was a longer acquaintance with An Ye. He was just an ordinary office worker.

Where did his confidence come from?!

A person with Chí Tuō’s background would easily swallow up a few people in this industry and wouldn’t even bother spitting out the leftovers.

After all, it was a resort in the mountains, and the April mountain breeze still carried a bone-chilling coldness.

Guān Shèngyǔ opened the door and came out, seeing An Ye wrapped in a cashmere cloak, gazing up at the mountains next to the resort.

Her side profile was serene, not just beautiful, but a rare kind of peacefulness.

If she hadn’t participated in this variety show, An Ye would just be a celebrity he had missed, someone he had failed to pursue.But he joined this variety show. For business, he should now be An Ye’s ex-boyfriend. For personal reasons, he realized that in these few months, An Ye had changed a lot.

Her skin, figure, tone of voice, and temperament—everything was different.

There was a charm in her gaze that could stir someone’s heart, something that couldn’t be suppressed.

If An Ye were like this in Huàn Zhòu, they might have already been a couple.

This thought made Guān Shèngyǔ very unwilling. He didn’t feel like it was his mistake or that he had misjudged, but rather that he had been deceived by Yán Wàn, that lunatic. It was Yán Wàn who had kept telling him that An Ye had mental health issues, that if she kept acting, she might lose her mind, and that it would be better for her to do some live streaming or light work.

If it weren’t for Yán Wàn, he wouldn’t have been so shallow.

“Do you smoke?” Guān Shèngyǔ offered a cigarette.

An Ye glanced at it and took it.

Guān Shèngyǔ was about to light it for her, but An Ye pulled out a lighter and lit it herself, took a drag, and then looked back inside.

Chí Tuō, in the light, had a relaxed expression on his face, occasionally glancing at her, but most of the time, he was browsing their CP fan page.

An Ye almost wanted to laugh. This person never said anything, but if someone wished them well, he would be happy for a long time.

So, she agreed to come out and talk.

She also hoped that after their relationship went public, the well-wishes would outweigh the doubts.

“Go ahead,” she said, looking at Guān Shèngyǔ.

“If you want to hype up a CP, you can do it with me,” Guān Shèngyǔ lit another cigarette. “There’s no need to do it with that lawyer. He can’t bring you any commercial value.”

An Ye’s cigarette froze mid-air as she stared at Guān Shèngyǔ for a moment.

He was serious.

An Ye smiled, snuffed out the cigarette she had only taken one puff from, and turned to walk back.

“Stop!” Guān Shèngyǔ didn’t expect this kind of reaction from An Ye. She was leaving without even turning her head, and his voice involuntarily became louder.

Chí Tuō, who was inside, heard it, looked up, stood up, and walked out.

“What’s going on?” Chí Tuō asked, lowering his head and looking at An Ye.

An Ye smiled at Chí Tuō and then looked back at Guān Shèngyǔ.

When she first entered the industry, she had some admiration for these so-called higher-ups. She always thought they must have worked much harder than her when they were younger to get to where they were now. They must have experienced a lot and had great abilities.

But the longer she was in the industry, the more she realized that some of those feelings were just illusions.

Huàn Zhòu falling from such a big listed company to where it was now, with countless internal power struggles and casualties, didn’t happen without reason.

Guān Shèngyǔ was a fool.

At the Huàn Zhòu shareholders' meeting, most of the people were just like him—fools.

How naive must he be to ask such a question at this time?

“Mr. Guān,” An Ye said, “I no longer have any connection with Huàn Zhòu.”

Guān Shèngyǔ furrowed his brows, pursing his lips."And you," An Ye looked at him, her voice calm and cold, "before the termination meeting, I didn't even know who you were."

Guān Shèngyǔ froze for a moment.

An Ye continued, "Mr. Guān, I’m just a small cog in the big ship of Huàn Zhòu. I never intended to get to know the person steering the ship, and the person steering the ship doesn’t need to get close to a single screw."

"This kind of power struggle is meaningless." An Ye looked at Guān Shèngyǔ, "My personal feelings have nothing to do with commercial value."

This was probably the most An Ye had ever spoken to Guān Shèngyǔ. The repeated, distant calls of “Mr. Guān,” the comparison of herself to a screw, without the slightest trace of respect.

She would never look back.

Guān Shèngyǔ chuckled lightly, said nothing, and walked into the night.

There was no way he was going to sleep in that room. It was too small, and there were others next door. It made him sick.

He had given her a chance, but she had rejected him without sparing any feelings.

Let it be then.

Guān Shèngyǔ thought.

Since she had never belonged to him, he didn’t need to pity her.

"I’ve caused trouble for Qí Wèi again." An Ye watched Guān Shèngyǔ’s figure disappear into the distance, giving a bitter smile.

Chí Tuō didn’t say anything. He simply reached into An Ye’s coat pocket, took out the lighter, spun it in his hand, and with a click, lit it. Not long after, the flame dimmed.

"Can you sleep in the living room tonight?" An Ye looked at Chí Tuō’s face, which flickered in the light from the lighter.

"I’ll take a pill later." Chí Tuō stuffed the lighter back into his pocket and ruffled her hair. "Go to sleep, rest well."

Tomorrow, they would have to make the announcement.