Chapter Five: Don't Be Too Good to Me

Sitting at his desk, Tang Zhichu turned on his computer. There were still about a hundred thousand left in his bank account; the rest had gone to the hospital. Just thinking about his father still lying there made Tang Zhichu feel overwhelmed.

He logged into the DY short video app, where he could still withdraw several tens of thousands. Calculating carefully, his side jobs and the restaurant’s profits were roughly equal for now.

The restaurant brought in hard-earned money, with daily sales of about five thousand; after rent, utilities, and wages, the monthly profit averaged around forty thousand. After gaining some fame in the karaoke lounge, Tang Zhichu could earn just as much singing every night, though his father thought these side gigs were unreliable and unstable.

Father and son often argued about this.

The DY (Douyin) short video app shared its name with the world’s top unicorn company from his previous life, but its development here was markedly different. Without the mask incident in this world, DY’s growth had been stunted, and it now stood alongside KS and Penguin’s WeChat, forming a tripartite rivalry.

Each sought a breakthrough.

At present, DY was positioned as a music short video platform, so singers like Tang Zhichu received a boost in traffic and lived quite comfortably. He even suspected that DY’s official support played a part in him getting resources for the romance show.

After getting used to the original owner’s vocal equipment, Tang Zhichu felt fortunate that he woke up in a romance reality show. If it had been a music competition, he’d likely flop.

Singing depended greatly on one's state; arriving out of nowhere, he couldn’t fully unleash the power of the original owner’s excellent voice. If he could sing at seventy or eighty percent of the original’s level, that was already good.

The two worlds were nearly identical, so much so that many musical works had striking similarities. Thinking it over, it made sense: the vocal range was limited, the methods of sound production were the same, and the cultures were alike. Statistically, similar works were bound to emerge—after all, people win the lottery.

Tang Zhichu stayed home until four in the afternoon, spending most of his time practicing vocal exercises or familiarizing himself with the original owner’s voice.

In his view, although the original owner left him with a mess, he also left behind an exceptional voice.

With no formal training, not even a professional, yet able to dominate DY’s online singing competition—it was worth remembering that the two hundred thousand prize and a variety show attracted more than just amateurs.

That afternoon, Tang Zhichu challenged himself, choosing a particularly difficult song from this world. Using his mixed voice, he easily hit a high C.

...

At four-thirty, Tang Zhichu returned to the small villa.

He was surprised to hear sounds coming from the kitchen as he opened the door—someone was back early.

He lifted the backpack in his hand, which contained his computer, having brought it along.

Passing the kitchen, he glanced inside.

Coincidentally, the person busy in the kitchen was Chen Siyang.

She still wore a white fisherman’s hat, with headphones clamped over her head. On the Western-style island counter were bags of varying sizes—a clear sign of groceries.

Tang Zhichu checked his phone: a little past four-thirty. Starting dinner this early?

He didn’t approach her, instead heading upstairs to put his bag in the bedroom.

Chen Siyang was absorbed in tidying the kitchen, music playing in her headphones, unaware of someone watching her from behind.

Why was she back so early?

Chen Siyang had her own reasons.

First, she felt her cooking skills were mediocre; preparing food for six people was a big job, so she needed to start early.

Second, she thought Yang Jiaxing was a bit too enthusiastic, making her feel pressured. Preparing in advance gave her confidence and allowed her to avoid him for a while.

Like now, bustling about alone, listening to music and thinking over matters—how comfortable!

Counting Chen Siyang, the girl group had nine members; after disbanding, everyone developed well except her, who was stagnating. Her drive to break through herself was partly why she returned early.

“Oh!”

Perhaps lost in thought, her hand slipped, and while cleaning the knife, she accidentally nicked her index finger.

Quickly, the pale cut welled up with bright red blood.

She didn’t want to fuss, but the blood kept flowing. Chen Siyang tapped her forehead, feeling she’d been too careless.

She had no choice but to go upstairs to find some bandages.

...

Tang Zhichu put away his bag and changed into casual clothes, appearing much more energetic.

For someone often in front of cameras, wardrobe mattered. Sometimes, simply dressing well could attract a wave of fans.

After changing, just as he was about to head out, he heard sounds from outside.

Someone else had returned?

He went downstairs; Chen Siyang was no longer in the kitchen.

A closer look revealed an abundance of groceries: fish, shrimp, mostly ingredients for Sichuan cuisine.

Glancing upstairs, he thought, this female star has ambition—she must be planning to showcase her cooking skills on the show.

“Hmm...”

Tang Zhichu suddenly noticed several drops of bright red beside the sink, with a knife nearby.

Someone was injured? So the earlier sound upstairs was Chen Siyang?

But he didn’t go upstairs.

It was indeed a good opportunity to interact with a beauty, but Tang Zhichu had other plans.

Eyeing the sports cameras around, he turned and put on the little apron hanging on the wall.

Judging by the ingredients, the shrimp seemed a bit lonely—clearly meant for braised prawns. Tang Zhichu started prepping the shrimp.

Next, he saw the fish. It was already sliced, with a packet of pickled vegetables—obviously for pickled fish. He began seasoning and marinating the fish.

In short, Tang Zhichu was prepping the ingredients.

For example, with pickled fish, he marinated the slices, sealed them with plastic wrap, blanched the pickled vegetables, and arranged them on a plate with garlic and ginger. Placing the plate atop the bowl with marinated fish, the dish was ready for cooking.

Later, the chef only needed to follow the steps.

While Tang Zhichu was busy, Chen Siyang somehow ended up leaning against the wine cabinet at the entrance to the dining room.

In about twenty minutes, Tang Zhichu finished prepping all the dishes and tidied up the kitchen.

As he took off the apron, he spotted Chen Siyang.

They met each other’s eyes, both smiling.

“Is your hand alright?” Tang Zhichu asked with concern.

Chen Siyang hid her hand behind her back. “It’s fine—just a scratch.”

“That’s good. It’s still early; I’ll go get some exercise.”

As they passed each other, Chen Siyang opened her mouth, wanting to call him back, but didn’t.

Leaning against the wine cabinet for those twenty minutes, she had mulled over many things, finally soothed by some kind of motivational mantra that calmed her unnecessary thoughts.

Men aren’t hard to find.

But if you miss your career, there’s no second chance!

So, your heart must be firm!

Watching Tang Zhichu head for the room with gym equipment, Chen Siyang muttered, “Tang Zhichu, don’t be too nice to me, or I’ll just send my messages to someone else!”