Chapter One: It All Begins with a Reality Dating Show

The time was probably in the afternoon, at least after five o’clock. The angle of the slanting sunlight made that clear, streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows and landing precisely at the corner of the L-shaped sofa.

Tang Zhichu happened to be sitting right in that corner, bathed in sunlight.

He sat with his arms folded—an unmistakable defensive posture from a psychological standpoint.

Zhou Yun simply watched him with a gentle smile. She believed that, when dealing with a man like this, one had to wait for him to speak first.

In a setting with more than two people, if two of them say nothing, both will inevitably feel the urge to break the silence, especially with cameras recording their every move.

Zhou Yun was convinced her role was to wait for him to step out and shatter the quiet, then follow his lead into conversation. That, to her mind, was the recipe for a natural and harmonious social opening.

Five minutes passed. Zhou Yun finally sighed softly, “Are you from around here?”

Tang Zhichu glanced at her and replied, “I haven’t eaten.”

Even with all her composure, Zhou Yun couldn’t help but give a slightly awkward smile. She had actually… drifted off for a moment.

The villa door opened again. Zhou Yun stood up, feeling rescued from the situation with Tang Zhichu. Another female guest entered.

Her eyes lit up, and her words escaped before she could think, “Wow, you’re so beautiful!”

The newcomer straightened, reminding herself she was the third to arrive. She smiled politely, replying, “Thank you, you’re beautiful too!”

Of course, both were beautiful. After all, this was a dating show, and every male and female guest had passed the production team’s rigorous selection.

What is a dating show? It’s where a group of young men and women live together for over a month, free to go about their lives during the day, but returning to the villa each night.

It’s like a special kind of matchmaking event.

“By the way, my name’s Zhou Yun. You can call me Xiao Yun.”

“Xiao Yun, all right. My name is Jiang Lan…” After introducing herself, Jiang Lan’s gaze drifted past Zhou Yun to Tang Zhichu, who was still seated on the sofa. She greeted him proactively, “Hello, I’m Jiang Lan.”

Only then did Tang Zhichu stand and respond, “Hello, I’m Tang Zhichu.”

In truth, it was only at that moment that Tang Zhichu truly collected himself and began to take in his surroundings.

Looking more closely, Tang Zhichu sensed something subtly different about this world. It wasn’t the environment that had changed, but rather his own awareness.

He was used to living in a body that stood one meter seventy-five, and now, suddenly inhabiting one that was one meter eighty-eight, he found even casual conversation an adjustment.

Yes, Tang Zhichu had come from another world.

What was it like to wake up and find yourself in the middle of a dating reality show?

He glanced at the female guests and thought, “A dating show… So be it.”

He had lived two lives now, and fate seemed to enjoy toying with him, never letting him escape this orbit.

Back in his own world, his company had just made the leap to the first tier. And then—nothing.

He had struggled through half a lifetime. Debuting as a singer, his voice gave out in less than three years. After that, he chased money wherever he could—any job that paid, from supporting internet celebrities to hosting live streams.

He earned what he could from a declining market, but was consumed by it in return. Soon, even minor online personalities felt free to mock him, and he was entirely shut out from the music and entertainment circles.

After much pain and reflection, Tang Zhichu started his own studio, signing a host of so-called internet musicians.

He developed his own formula for commercial music: sweeping the charts from the 1980s onward, dissecting every hit song, then splicing, lowering or raising the key, and stitching them into a new composition. In just three days, he could produce a complete piece tailored for the market.

With this method, his studio quickly gained momentum, then expanded. The hit rate soared above eighty-five percent, the profits overflowing, and he even established connections with major investors.

So, even when struck by the lottery-like event of transmigration, Tang Zhichu took a long time to persuade himself to accept it.

“Hello, I’m Yang Jiaxing. How should I address you?”

Tang Zhichu’s thoughts were interrupted again. He looked up and smiled, “Hello, I’m Tang Zhichu.”

Zhou Yun gestured to Yang Jiaxing, “Come, have a seat and chat.”

Yang Jiaxing nodded but didn’t sit. Instead, he poured water, filling the glasses of the two female guests first, then his own.

Tang Zhichu’s glass was already full; he didn’t drink.

Zhou Yun raised her eyebrows slightly, thinking this was finally normal. Compared to Tang Zhichu, Yang Jiaxing was much more lively—exactly how a man should be socially.

“I think you must be quite young,” Zhou Yun ventured again.

Yang Jiaxing nodded slightly, then smiled, “I think we’re about the same age.”

“I think I’m younger!” Zhou Yun’s tone brightened.

“Then I’ll have to give you my traditional age…”

But Zhou Yun cut in with a smile, “Let me go first: I’m a 2000 kid.”

She stared at Yang Jiaxing with big, bright eyes, her meaning clear: your turn.

Yang Jiaxing replied, “Turns out you are younger. I’m a ‘98.”

With two male guests now present, Zhou Yun’s gaze unconsciously shifted back to Tang Zhichu, her earlier sense of defeat gone.

The conversation with Yang Jiaxing shifted from ages to horoscopes. He chatted easily with Zhou Yun, while his peripheral attention lingered on the other female guest.

Zhou Yun was stunning, with a slightly rounded face that radiated vivid beauty.

Jiang Lan was different—a quiet, intellectual beauty, exuding the aura of a career woman.

Unconsciously, Yang Jiaxing began to look forward to the coming month together. As for the other “competitor,” Tang Zhichu? He barely registered on Yang Jiaxing’s radar.

Soon after, the third male guest arrived, dressed in a suit, looking at least twenty-seven or twenty-eight, exuding a strong presence. His name was Huang Zejun.

Tang Zhichu remained lost in the tug-of-war between memories and unfamiliar recollections—sometimes sinking into the past, sometimes exploring this new consciousness.

While chatting, Zhou Yun’s gaze flitted among the three male guests. Her social logic always assigned strangers an initial “label.” For example, Yang Jiaxing.

Her first impression of Yang Jiaxing: extroverted, gentlemanly—he never let the conversation stall, always guiding the female guests into the discussion.

Her label for Huang Zejun: steady, composed, purposeful. He never wasted words, probing the others’ professions or singling out one female guest for focused conversation.

And Tang Zhichu? Zhou Yun labeled him as aloof, reserved, perhaps even a touch withdrawn.

These labels were no small matter; they were part of Zhou Yun’s comprehensive social assessment.

For instance, Yang Jiaxing’s label suggested high emotional intelligence and broad experience, likely from a privileged background. Huang Zejun was the typical career man, probably an entrepreneur.

As for Tang Zhichu? Zhou Yun couldn’t quite pin him down. Such traits usually meant someone was either forced onto the show or simply unable to integrate.

Either way, Tang Zhichu’s hard value didn’t rate highly in Zhou Yun’s estimation.

(P.S.: Multiple female leads. If you only like single female leads, proceed with caution.)