Chapter One Hundred and Two: Forsaking the Code of Chivalry-Starting From a Dating Show(Ai Ziyan)

Tang Zhichu was seated right beside Bai Xiwei. Up close, Bai Xiwei reminded Tang Zhichu so much of Xu Qing in her youth—strikingly beautiful.

“Hmph, you’ve been here all this time and only now come to greet me, and you’re clearly here for Professor Guo. To think, when I first met you, I even encouraged you!” Bai Xiwei deliberately avoided looking at Tang Zhichu, acting as if she didn’t care to acknowledge him, yet her manner was warm and familiar, drawing laughter from the crowd.

Tang Zhichu laughed along, only speaking once Bai Xiwei met his gaze. “I’m a bit anxious in social settings. It’s hard for me to come over and greet you, Sister Wei.”

Bai Xiwei shook her head with a smile. “No excuses. You’re punished with a drink. I greeted you myself when I saw you. And one more thing—don’t pick any projects our alliance chooses later.”

Tang Zhichu finally understood why Bai Xiwei was so popular.

Even when she joked, you could sense her sincerity and enthusiasm.

Tang Zhichu nodded. “I’ll drink, I will. I still owe Professor Guo a drink, too.”

He picked up the drink before him and took a sip, but his intention was to toast Guo Jinglong.

He played along with Bai Xiwei’s banter, but kept a polite distance, not expressing too much familiarity. As the “goddess” of the gathering, if Tang Zhichu were to challenge Bai Xiwei directly, he’d surely attract a swarm of jealous men.

“Professor Guo, I drank the drink. You promised to guide me in arranging music, you can’t back out!” Tang Zhichu said with a smile.

The people around suddenly found Tang Zhichu much more pleasant—gracious and tactful.

Someone even handed Tang Zhichu some snacks, and he thanked them at once.

Guo Jinglong laughed, “Don’t play games. Last time you came to consult me, then went and beat Old Pu. Actually, I need to settle accounts with you. At the stairwell in the creative building, you even acted with me, pretending to check who was the first to produce something, making me look foolish. That drink’s for Sister Wei. You owe me a real drink—I want the real stuff.”

Tang Zhichu could only smile apologetically, not saying a word.

Bai Xiwei grew curious and leaned in to ask Guo Jinglong what happened.

Tang Zhichu caught a faint, pleasant scent, barely had time to savor it, when a large, bald figure moved in.

“Sister Wei, I’m here to fetch someone. This guy drinks and then slips away!” Xige said with a grin.

Bai Xiwei shifted aside and laughed, “Stay right there! If you’re here, sit here. Let Professor Shen be the lone wolf tonight.”

Xige had forgotten the program’s rules, actually thinking he could buy people with points. Hearing Bai Xiwei, he decided he definitely couldn’t sit; if Tang Zhichu fell for her charms and ended up bought, what then?

“No, no, I’m here on a mission,” Xige started, but felt Tang Zhichu tugging at his sleeve.

Xige gave Tang Zhichu a reassuring look, as if to say, “Don’t worry, leave it to me, I’ll get you out.”

Tang Zhichu was helpless—he wanted to say, “No need to block, she’s not a bad person!”

With musicians laughing and bantering, time flew by, and by the time the gathering ended, it was already past midnight.

No one wanted to leave; once they did, tomorrow would bring the tense recording sessions again—a bothersome prospect.

Shen Jianxin called the members of the Wildfire Alliance to leave at half past midnight.

At one in the morning, the lights went out in the Wildfire Alliance dormitory, and everyone went to their rooms to sleep.

But at half past one, the door to Shen Jianxin’s room suddenly opened. He stepped out quietly, checked his direction, then turned left, around a corner, and stopped in front of a door. He pressed his ear to it, listening.

Moments later, Shen Jianxin nodded. Inside, he heard the sounds of various effect pedals.

As expected, this kid had something—already started arranging music.

The next morning.

Xige was up early, full of energy.

At eight thirty, seeing Tang Zhichu hadn’t come downstairs, he was about to go up and call him, but Shen Jianxin stopped him.

“Don’t disturb him. He was composing last night, probably worked late. Let him sleep until he wakes naturally.”

Xige could only give up, feeling bored, and drifted off to the creative studio.

He stayed there until eleven thirty, organizing all sorts of online materials about the film “Good and Evil,” just waiting for Tang Zhichu to arrive.

Bored stiff, Xige started visiting other rooms.

On the Stellar Alliance side, Liu Xingyun quickly got into the groove, sitting at the keyboard and hashing out melodies.

This was a big, urgent assignment, so Liu Xingyun dared not slack off, arriving as early as six thirty in the morning.

Next door, Guo Jinglong and Pu Yu were also busy in their own studios.

The more Xige watched, the more anxious he felt—he finally understood the feeling of an anxious eunuch when the emperor is calm.

“Announcement: Recording Studio One is now open!”

Three consecutive announcements echoed throughout the creative building.

Xige stood frozen—who had opened the studio was obvious. He’d just checked the progress, and with four songs this episode, the other three teams were still composing. Only Tang Zhichu could be done.

“Damn!” Xige clutched his head. How could someone be this incredible?

Aside from Xige, the others from the creative studios rushed out, looking at one another in disbelief.

Damn it, it’s that guy again!

Guo Jinglong rubbed his temples and swore, “Young people these days have no sense of honor! This is just outrageous!”

Is it hard to compose a song in one day? Guo Jinglong could do it in his best form, like writing an essay—sometimes inspiration just strikes.

Usually, when people ask him for a song, he produces one a month. In reality, he only spends two or three days actually writing; the rest is spent playing around—or, more accurately, searching for inspiration.

If he’s stuck, he just procrastinates. After all, writing songs seems daunting to outsiders.

But Tang Zhichu had done this twice now, with such speed—he could only be called a genius.

Liu Xingyun said nothing, just turned and went back to his studio.

Pu Yu did the same, but soon Sun Zhe appeared in the creative building and entered the Vanguard Alliance’s studio.

Time flowed quietly, unnoticed.

Tang Zhichu entered the recording studio at noon, and when he emerged, it was already evening.

The arrangement for his song wasn’t complex, but the vocal technique demanded much. Tang Zhichu sang again and again in the studio before he found the right feeling.

Exiting the creative building, he found the night sky ablaze with stars.

A figure appeared on the path in front of the building—not too conspicuous, wearing a white cap, but it wasn’t Zhou Yun.

Wang Xiaoyan was carrying a thermal container and waved at Tang Zhichu as she saw him.

Tang Zhichu looked around, then walked over.

“This is for you. Sister Yun made soup.” Wang Xiaoyan handed him the container.

Tang Zhichu took it, puzzled. “Why didn’t she bring it herself?”

“Sister Yun was worried about disturbing you. That dating show you’re on is getting more and more popular.”

“She’s afraid of that?”

Wang Xiaoyan studied Tang Zhichu carefully before replying, “She’s not afraid for herself. She’s afraid it’ll affect you.”

(End of chapter)