[The hotpot was delicious.]
The letter from Chu Yuanxun was, as always, about food. But from his lively handwriting, Wan Tong could sense his excitement.
She glanced at the letter from Zhong Jiaqi but didn’t take it to heart.
Just as she climbed into bed, there was a gentle knock on the door.
Maddie, who was closest to the door, got up to answer it. A moment later, she returned and gave Wan Tong a pat. “Someone’s looking for you.”
Hearing this, the two people on the opposite bed also looked up.
Under the gaze of three pairs of eyes, Wan Tong walked to the door.
Chu Yuanxun was wearing a gray hoodie, leaning lazily against the wall. When he saw her step out, he straightened up and took a couple of steps closer.
“What are you doing here?” Wan Tong only peeked half her body out, curious.
Chu Yuanxun pressed his lips together and silently looked at her for two seconds before slowly saying, “I’m hungry.”
Wan Tong: “……”
She stepped out of the room and pulled the door shut behind her. “What do you want to eat?”
Chu Yuanxun tilted his head slightly, actually giving it some thought. “Noodles.”
“I’ll make some for you.” The quiet surroundings made Wan Tong instinctively lower her voice.
Chu Yuanxun looked down at the petite figure right in front of him. That soft-spoken tone made his heart itch again. “Mm.”
Wan Tong walked ahead, while Chu Yuanxun deliberately slowed his pace, trailing behind.
When they reached the stairway, a voice called from behind, “Are you two going for a late-night snack?”
It was Yuan Qingqing.
Wan Tong turned back to look at her. “Mm.”
Yuan Qingqing walked over. “I’m a little hungry too. I want some as well~”
Since she’d already said so, Wan Tong couldn’t refuse. “Alright, let’s go together.”
Chu Yuanxun stood beside Wan Tong without saying a word, but his brows furrowed slightly.
The atmosphere during this late-night meal was a little odd. The interaction between Chu Yuanxun and Wan Tong remained natural and harmonious, but Yuan Qingqing’s presence felt like an awkward intrusion, no matter what she did.
Wan Tong still only made enough for two. Chu Yuanxun had a large bowl, while she and Yuan Qingqing only ate a little.
Chu Yuanxun got up to wash the dishes, and Yuan Qingqing followed him. “I’ll do it.”
He glanced at her, then set the two bowls down. “Thanks.”
Then, without another word, he left the kitchen.
Wan Tong finished wiping the table and saw him tilt his head back to drink half a cup of water.
“Drinking too much water at night isn’t good for you,” she reminded him.
“Eating late at night isn’t good either.” Chu Yuanxun set the cup down, resting his hands on the table’s edge and leaning in slightly. “Wanna go for a walk?”
“Bro, it’s past midnight.” Wan Tong chuckled, her eyes curving in amusement.
Chu Yuanxun pressed his lips together again, his throat dry. His gaze remained fixed on her as he spoke slowly. “I feel like staying up late.”
“You’re supposed to tell me to go to bed early because it’s good for my health.”
Wan Tong usually slept early, but ever since she came to the shared house, she hadn’t gone to bed before midnight.
Chu Yuanxun’s lips curled up slightly as he replied in a low voice, “But I can’t control myself.”
“What?”
“I just…” His voice suddenly dropped.
“Hm?”
“…just want to eat something. And take a walk.”
Wan Tong laughed softly. “Alright, let’s go.”
Both of them forgot that Yuan Qingqing was still in the kitchen.
They took a stroll around the small courtyard before Wan Tong tugged on Chu Yuanxun’s sleeve, pulling him back.
The early spring night was particularly chilly. If they stay out any longer, they’d both catch a cold.
When they reached the door of her room, Chu Yuanxun lingered. Wan Tong waved at him. “Go get some rest.”
Chu Yuanxun nodded, then suddenly reached out two fingers, gently tugging at the fabric on her shoulder. In a muffled voice, he asked, “Where are you eating tomorrow?”
“Huh?” Wan Tong looked at him in confusion, her gaze shifting from his fingertips to his slightly moody face.
“Zhong Jiaqi wouldn’t tell me.” Chu Yuanxun’s voice grew even lower, his obsidian-like eyes filled with grievance.
Wan Tong suddenly understood.
So this was about her date tomorrow.
She gave him an address.
Satisfied with the answer, Chu Yuanxun pulled his hood up and left.
Wan Tong was both amused and exasperated.
When she stepped back into the room, Maddie and Ren Jiameng were sitting by Yuan Qingqing’s bed. The moment they saw Wan Tong, they returned to their own spots.
Yuan Qingqing was curled up, sobbing softly. Wan Tong glanced at her in silence before heading into the bathroom to wash up again.
Now, Yuan Qingqing was playing the sympathy card.
Wan Tong’s uncle must be feeling troubled. When this episode aired, she was bound to attract a lot of hate.
Zhong Jiaqi had clearly put in effort. He had found a Chinese-style restaurant in the area.
The restaurant was large, spanning three floors, with gray tiles and white walls, lanterns and couplets, lattice windows and folding screens, exuding an air of antiquity. In the center, there was even a rock garden with flowing water, pavilions, and corridors, along with a stage for performances.
The light gauze curtains swayed gently as the sound of flowing water murmured in the background. The two of them were seated in a private pavilion, perfectly positioned for the best view of the performance stage. Nearby, many other guests were dining, some even dressed in traditional Han clothing.
“Well? Isn’t it beautiful?”
Zhong Jiaqi, who was the same age as Wan Tong and the youngest among them in the house, couldn’t hide his smugness when he saw the surprised look on her face.
Wan Tong nodded. “I can’t believe I never knew about a restaurant like this. Where did you find it?”
“I checked out all the good restaurants nearby and thought this one suited your vibe, so I booked it.”
“My vibe?”
“Something like… ethereal?” Zhong Jiaqi chuckled at his own words.
As a latecomer to the show, he knew he didn’t stand much chance of forming a real connection with the female guests. But in the few days he had left, making some interesting friends seemed like a pretty good time.
At first, Wan Tong had been a little uneasy about coming out with him, but after a few exchanges, she gradually relaxed.
They followed online recommendations to order a few dishes, and Wan Tong marked a couple more with her pen.
“You like spicy food?” Zhong Jiaqi asked.
Wan Tong shook her head, not even looking up. “I want to pack some to bring back… for everyone.”
Chu Yuanxun had a diverse palate and actually enjoyed spicy food.
“Tsk.” Zhong Jiaqi leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Why do I feel like you’re packing it for a specific someone?”
“…” Wan Tong let out a small huff and ignored him.
Zhong Jiaqi turned his attention to the performance stage, where a woman dressed in traditional attire was playing classical music. Resting his chin on his hand, he asked, “Jian, how many years have you been playing the guqin?”
Wan Tong finally put down the menu. “Almost twenty years. My mom said I could play before I even learned to read.”
Zhong Jiaqi let out a sigh of admiration. “A real prodigy, huh?”
Wan Tong laughed. “There’s no such thing as a prodigy. I just started practicing earlier than most.”
The two of them continued chatting casually when suddenly, a young man in Hanfu led another man into the pavilion.
“Chu Yuanxun…” Zhong Jiaqi stiffened as he muttered the name.
Wan Tong looked up in surprise, only to see Chu Yuanxun already taking a seat beside her.
He was wearing a pale yellow, diamond-patterned sweater today—a warm color that made his presence feel even gentler and more refined.
“What did you order?” Chu Yuanxun took the menu from her hands and asked in a low voice.
How natural.
Zhong Jiaqi rubbed his face, caught between laughter and frustration. “Chu Yuanxun, you’re really something…”
At first, he had thought Chu Yuanxun was the quiet, dull type, but now he was completely overturning that assumption.
He had never seen a guest on the show this direct—no hesitation at all.
At this point, who didn’t know about Chu Yuanxun’s feelings for Jian?
Wan Tong covered her mouth, laughing. Her mood inexplicably lifted as she pointed to a dish. “Do you like this vine pepper beef tongue?”
“Mm.” Chu Yuanxun nodded, his eyes lighting up instantly.
Zhong Jiaqi had been reduced to a complete bystander. But since he wasn’t actually trying to pursue Wan Tong, he simply played along, cracking jokes here and there, keeping the atmosphere lighthearted.
As the meal drew to a close, Chu Yuanxun glanced at the performer on stage and gently tugged on Wan Tong’s sleeve, signaling her to look. “I want to hear <Feng Qiu Huang1>.”
Zhong Jiaqi immediately chimed in, egging her on. “Yeah! We haven’t had a guqin in the house, so we never got to hear you play live. Jian, go for it!”
Chu Yuanxun took a leisurely sip of tea and casually added, “Break a leg.”
Wan Tong had no time to prepare, and just like that, she was pushed onto the stage.
In the monitoring room, director Zheng Tianqiong’s expression finally eased.
After observing for the past two days, he had discovered something important: Chu Yuanxun might seem indifferent to everything, but in reality, he was well aware of his surroundings.
Last season, Tongtong barely had any screen time, almost no opportunities to showcase herself. It was as if she was just a pretty face.
Because of that, when online haters targeted her, even her fans had little to defend her with.
But this time, whether intentionally or not, Chu Yuanxun was giving Tongtong the chance to show her real self, her charm and her unique talents. A multi-talented, elegant woman like her would be difficult to criticize.
After years of directing, Zheng Tianqiong wasn’t well-versed in online drama, but he knew one thing: Chu Yuanxun was helping Tongtong.
On the monitor screen, Wan Tong had just finished her performance. Amidst enthusiastic applause, she returned to the pavilion.
Zhong Jiaqi was stunned. He didn’t know much about her background, but he had seen some of the harsh comments about her last season, calling her superficial, manipulative, a flirt.
Now, he realized how far off those comments were.
Damn, Jian Wantong was a hidden gem!
Chu Yuanxun poured her a cup of tea, waiting for her to sit down before quietly saying, “It was beautiful.”
With his head slightly lowered, Wan Tong could only see the subtle curve of his lips.
He had taken a sip of peach blossom wine, and faintly, she could catch a whiff of the delicate floral fragrance lingering on him.
It was intoxicating.
That night, the production team announced a new task: With only two days of filming left, the group would be visiting an amusement park tomorrow.
Each person had to invite someone to go on at least one ride with them, and no invitations could be refused!
Wan Tong looked at the list of check-in activities in her hand, and her palms began to tremble.
On the letter paper, she carefully wrote, word by word: [Do you like bumper cars?]
Tonight’s letters arrived unusually early. By eleven o’clock, they were already here.
Wan Tong received three letters!!
She stood at the doorway in a daze, staring at the three letters addressed to her, each in a different handwriting, feeling as if the sky was about to collapse.
Maddie and Ren Jiameng peeked out when they saw her frozen posture. Noticing her dumbfounded expression, they couldn’t help but laugh.
Ren Jiameng pulled her own letter from Wan Tong’s hands, patted her shoulder sympathetically, and said, “Just let it go.”
Maddie glanced at Chen Ruohan’s letter, her expression flickering slightly before she quickly composed herself. “Jian, sleep early.”
Wan Tong snapped out of her daze and was about to head back to her room when she noticed a figure flickering at the end of the hallway.
She looked over a few times, and suddenly, Chu Yuanxun leaned forward. As the lights illuminated him, she finally saw his face clearly.
Clutching her letters, she ran over. Chu Yuanxun, too, was staring at the letters in her hand, his brow slightly furrowed.
- 凤求凰 (Fèng Qiú Huáng, lit. meaning “Phoenix Seeking Its Mate) is a well-known ancient Chinese classical music. ↩︎