Chapter 97: Is It Worth It?

“Numb—there’s nothing left to do but worship the Sugar God. Who could have guessed that the absentminded man who forgot his luggage when he first appeared would turn out to have so many skills? Let me just say this: in my eyes, Sugar God and Chen Siyang are the smoothest couple of all. It was precisely Sugar God’s initial quietness and confusion that made Chen Siyang take the initiative to approach him. At least in that environment, to Chen Siyang, who comes from a girl group background, Tang Zhichu seemed safe—someone she could get close to. And once she did? She found surprise after surprise in this man!”

“As for Xiao Yun, I think people could be kinder to her. She’s a brave girl, the most proactive with the male guests. She’s warm and earnest with every one of them, genuinely trying to connect. But you can’t expect her to keep being enthusiastic if she gets nothing back. When Yang Jiaxing didn’t respond to her, she bowed out gracefully. As for her and Sugar God, maybe the night he helped her tune the guitar was when she started seeing him differently. If you watch that part carefully, you’ll notice something out of the ordinary.”

“Lastly, about Sister Lan—I’ve always liked her, she’s such a steady woman. Actually, she and Zhou Yun are a bit alike: the ones they’re interested in aren’t interested in them at first, and by the time the men come around, they’ve lost interest themselves. That’s the story of so many people’s love lives. Years later, they look back and call it regret, or their ‘white moonlight.’ I don’t quite agree. I think Sister Lan started falling for Sugar God from that dinner onward. I must have rewatched that scene five times—it’s right there that I started liking Sugar God myself (not the way you’re thinking!)”

“I thought Sugar God’s highlight would be last episode, the one where he made QQ candies, but this episode still had me giggling like a fool. When Sister Lan smiled and asked Sugar God if he was free the day after tomorrow on the stairs, I almost cried. Oh, my—Sugar God has come so far! I recommend everyone go back and watch his expression in that scene—my heart aches for him. I don’t think Sister Lan had high hopes either, which is why she invited him herself for the day after tomorrow.”

“One thing really surprises me: when Xiao Yun invited Sugar God out, everyone criticized her, but when Sister Lan did the same, no one said a word? Some people even started shipping JiangTang as a couple? I’m baffled! I am a die-hard supporter of Siyang’s couple, thank you very much!”

“I’ve gone on for a while, but honestly, this show is amazing. I’m so glad to have found it this late spring. Sugar God sings beautifully—you can find his version of ‘Prayer’ on DY with a quick search! Highly recommended!”

...

Tang Zhichu hadn’t watched the live comments, but he did skim through some of the most popular ones.

This wasn’t Weibo, just the comment section on Penguin Video’s own platform, and the top comments had over ten thousand likes.

Many of them were long essays, and Tang Zhichu couldn't quite understand it—writing such lengthy reflections just for a dating show? These must all be top students.

“So it turns out that viral dance on DY a while back came from the Sugar God! Oh man, when he said, ‘Dreams are important, but happiness is more important,’ I was in tears!”

“Watched it four times already—this season’s dating show is truly addictive. Can you please enable paid advance episodes? Don’t look down on me, I have money!”

“When Xiao Yun asked Sugar God out, I was grumbling, but when Sister Lan did it, I grinned like a lunatic. Maybe it’s time to call it quits, haha!”

When he saw this particular comment, Tang Zhichu nearly choked on his own saliva. There truly are all kinds of people in the world—over ten thousand likes for a comment like that?

Tang Zhichu thought he’d better stop reading, or he’d start getting corrupted by these comments.

Still, he pulled up Chen Siyang’s WeChat on his phone.

Su Qingzhu had mentioned in an email that he hoped Tang Zhichu would reach out to Chen Siyang and ask her to stop with the marketing.

The attention was snowballing, and if they kept marketing, it would be impossible to rein things in.

Why didn’t Su Qingzhu handle it himself? Because it wasn’t a big deal, but it could backfire on Tang Zhichu, so he wanted him to handle it personally.

From the day they said goodbye on the overpass, neither of them had messaged the other.

Tang Zhichu had been busy, and it seemed like Chen Siyang was being stubborn about it too.

If you don’t message me, I won’t message you either.

“(=•ω•=)! Hey, Chen, what are you up to?”

A moment later, a reply came.

“（￣（エ）￣）Who are you? I don’t know you!”

“(=•ω•=) I’m your dad!”

“Go away go away go away go away go away...ahhh...I’m tired, you villain!”

“(=•ω•=) Hehe!”

“Villain!”

Seeing that Chen Siyang seemed back to normal, Tang Zhichu felt relieved. As for Su Qingzhu’s request, he didn’t take it seriously at all.

If Su Qingzhu could see the situation, surely Tianhe’s people could too.

Even if they kept marketing, it would only benefit Chen Siyang, while making himself look worse.

So be it—they were all on the same side, after all.

Tang Zhichu stopped replying, but then Chen Siyang sent another message.

“Villain! I’m so busy right now. Sister Yu got me an audition for a really important role in the second part of ‘World in a Painting,’ and I made it! There are so many wirework action scenes, and I’m training every day. Once the stills are out, I’ll send them to you!”

A smile spread across Tang Zhichu’s face. He pictured Chen Siyang’s appearance and posture—if it was a period costume, oh my, how exciting!

Just as Tang Zhichu was typing a reply, Zhou Yun’s call came in, and he exited WeChat.

Zhou Yun had arrived, along with Wang Xiaoyan. The two of them were chatting and laughing, each pulling a suitcase behind them.

“Wow, this place is gorgeous!” Wang Xiaoyan exclaimed as she entered, dropped her suitcase, and ran out to the balcony.

The house was right on the lakeshore, with a truly beautiful view.

Tang Zhichu handed the key to Zhou Yun. “I’ll leave it to you then. Call me if you need anything.”

Zhou Yun nodded and said quietly, “You can go now. Good luck next time. Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing—Xiaoyan is my person, after all.”

After Tang Zhichu left, Zhou Yun went out onto the balcony. Wang Xiaoyan came back to herself and smiled. “Yun, this place is really beautiful.”

Zhou Yun nodded. “It really is.”

Silence fell again.

Wang Xiaoyan seemed to drift off once more.

After a long while, she finally looked at Zhou Yun, her energy suddenly draining away as if something inside her had snapped.

“Yun, I want to go back. I want to return to Yuzhou.”

It was only then that Zhou Yun moved closer and wrapped an arm around her.

Just as Tang Zhichu had said—she wasn’t a fool. How could she not sense the feelings of the person beside her?

Wang Xiaoyan had always known this day would come—she just hadn’t expected it so soon.

Pretend not to see? They’d gone so far as to push her to another man—what’s the point in continuing the act? There was no meaning left.

“Yun, am I just bad at this? I knew I couldn’t win, but I still tried. If I’d known… Ah, never mind.”

Zhou Yun reached out and tidied Wang Xiaoyan’s wind-blown hair. “You’re not bad at all—it’s no small feat getting him to this point. Really, I’m partly to blame. If I hadn’t asked you to help introduce Old Tang to the show, maybe none of this would have happened.”

Hearing this, Wang Xiaoyan pouted, and in the blink of an eye, tears slid down her cheeks.

“It would’ve happened anyway. At most, this was just the spark—without it, things would have ended quietly, and that would have been even more stifling.”

Zhou Yun took a tissue from her pocket and handed it to Wang Xiaoyan, then stood beside her by the lake. Before long, Wang Xiaoyan was quietly sobbing.

After a long time, she suddenly asked, “Yun, what about you? Was it worth it?”

Wang Xiaoyan was the closest person to Zhou Yun. When Zhou Yun asked her to get Yu Hua to introduce Tang Zhichu to the show, it wasn’t just a favor—it was an exchange.

Zhou Yun’s original plan was to become an online celebrity herself, but to get Tang Zhichu on the show, she put Wang Xiaoyan in the spotlight. Not because she didn’t want to go, but because she couldn’t—her studio’s resources had to be devoted to Wang Xiaoyan. That was their unspoken agreement.

So, was it worth it?

Zhou Yun smiled. “Dreams matter, but happiness matters more. Isn’t that the saying going around now?”