Chapter 68: A Subtle Dinner

The final supper in the Pink Cottage, though free from surveillance cameras, still failed to ease everyone’s nerves enough for them to simply sit wherever they pleased.

Not that absolutely no one was casual about it—there were two who didn’t care where they sat at all.

When the others lingered at the edges of the dining table, pacing and probing, asking each other, “Where do you like to sit?” Ye Fangfei felt annoyed. Wasn’t it just a meal? Did there really need to be so much indecision over seating?

Without a word, she pulled out a chair at the table’s edge and sat down.

Almost simultaneously, Lu Zhou took his seat. There was an empty spot between him and Ye Fangfei; his choice had no deeper motive—he’d simply noticed the spicy chicken directly in front of that seat and found himself craving it, so he sat there.

The two of them settled in without consulting anyone, and finally, the rest stopped hesitating.

Zhang Chen quickly slipped into the chair directly opposite Ye Fangfei. Out of eight seats, three were suddenly claimed.

The others stopped watching for cues and went straight for their preferred spots.

Li Jiayan intended to sit next to Lu Zhou, in the empty chair between him and Ye Fangfei, but was beaten to it by Qi Jiajia.

Wen Yiming saw this, and a strange impulse rose within him. He pulled out the chair opposite Lu Zhou and sat down.

At the same moment, Xu Junze, not particularly conflicted, took the seat conveniently next to Lu Zhou.

Li Jiayan’s desired spot was snatched by two men. She was a bit stunned—what was going on?

Surveying the table, she sat across from Qi Jiajia, not entirely happy.

Chu Yao chose the seat opposite Xu Junze.

The arrangement was oddly magical.

Two pairs of exes sat face-to-face, while the remaining pairs were scattered randomly, with same-gender pairs opposite each other, exes crisscrossed…

Rarely had such a seating pattern appeared in the past. Tonight felt peculiar.

Most understood the reason behind this strange phenomenon.

Once the seating was settled, Lu Zhou, having barely eaten all day, didn’t bother pondering the subtle atmosphere at the table and took the lead in starting the meal.

Everyone ate and chatted sporadically, until Xu Junze, struck by a sudden curiosity, asked, “After the show aired, did your daily lives change at all?”

His question successfully unlocked everyone’s conversational flow.

Wen Yiming, interested, said, “Why don’t you tell us how it affected you first?”

Xu Junze tilted his head, thinking carefully. “My life hasn’t changed much, but work has. Business has picked up a lot—our StarLink surged to the top of the MCN rankings, so I’ve been quite busy lately.”

He deliberately emphasized his company’s achievement.

Of course, he didn’t say this casually; it was calculated.

Chu Yao glanced at him and responded, “I happened to notice that MCN ranking—it climbed fast.”

“Thanks to you,” Xu Junze smiled at her, bluntly.

Previously, he never would have said such a thing publicly, nor admitted how much his achievements owed to Chu Yao’s influence.

But tonight, he said it.

Chu Yao was surprised by his admission, but after a brief pause, she smiled radiantly. “Really, we should thank the production team.”

Qi Jiajia found their polite exchange amusing and asked, “What about you, Yao Yao? Any changes in life?”

“Me?” Chu Yao, holding chopsticks in one hand and propping her head with the other, reflected. “Not much, really. I’ve always lived in front of the camera, so I’m used to online gossip.”

Wen Yiming asked, “And work?”

Chu Yao replied, “Work is as usual.”

She didn’t reveal much; in truth, she was busy with a career transition, since simple short-form content creation no longer satisfied her ambitions.

Her IP value needed a transformation to reach higher worth.

But until she succeeded, she didn’t want to say more. After the show aired, her workload increased, but she didn’t consider it significant enough to mention.

“And you?” Chu Yao shifted the topic swiftly.

Wen Yiming put down his chopsticks, crossed his hands behind his head, chewing thoughtfully as he considered his answer.

“My life changed quite a lot,” he said.

“My mom’s become super nosy, pestering me every day about which girl I like, what’s happening with the show. My ears are callused from it, but I can’t spill anything. It drives me crazy—I hardly dare to go home anymore.”

His words made everyone laugh.

They all had experienced something similar, though no one else had voiced it out loud.

The mood at the table grew lighter.

Qi Jiajia chimed in, “My parents are the same, and so are my colleagues. If I didn’t keep my mouth absolutely shut, I’d never survive their relentless questioning.”

“Looks like we all have this problem,” Li Jiayan remarked with a smile.

Zhang Chen interjected, “I don’t seem to have it.”

That drew everyone’s attention.

Ye Fangfei arched her brows and looked up at him, “Oh? Really?”

Zhang Chen faltered for a moment but remained stubborn.

“Yes, because as soon as the show aired, I warned my family and friends not to discuss anything show-related with me. They respected that and haven’t bothered me.”

Lu Zhou commented, “Your people really listen to you.”

Zhang Chen cleared his throat quietly, picked up some food, and replied, “Well, they manage.”

Ye Fangfei glanced at him twice, too lazy to expose him.

Did he forget that his circle included some of her friends?

“What about you, Fangfei? Any impact from the show?” Wen Yiming brought the conversation to Ye Fangfei.

“More haters.” Her reply was concise.

Everyone laughed again, agreeing that they too had been cursed online, suddenly finding a sense of camaraderie.

Except for Lu Zhou.

“What about you, Lu Zhou? You haven’t said yet,” Qi Jiajia asked him.

Lu Zhou was reaching for food when he paused and answered honestly, “For me, the show’s impact has been significant.”

“I struggled for years in the industry, and thanks to the production team, I finally have a meal ticket.”

He smiled as he spoke.

Ye Fangfei was amused. “Weren’t you already popular before the show aired? Why make it sound like all your fame rides on the program?”

Lu Zhou smiled.

“That earlier burst of popularity was thanks to Senior Ye’s generosity in helping me out. If you round it up, I should thank the production team—after all, without this show, I wouldn’t have met Senior Ye.”

At those words, Zhang Chen’s expression darkened slightly.

Damn it, he’d nearly forgotten that episode, and now salt was being rubbed into old wounds.

Meanwhile, Ye Fangfei frowned and turned to Lu Zhou. “Didn’t I tell you not to call me ‘Senior Ye’? Anyone hearing that would think I’m ancient.”

Li Jiayan felt a pang of anxiety at Ye Fangfei’s words.

Lu Zhou defended himself, “It’s just a term of respect in the industry—given your credentials and achievements, you really are my senior.”

“I still don’t like it. From now on, that title is banned,” Ye Fangfei declared, raising her eyebrows.

“All right, as you wish,” Lu Zhou agreed with a smile.

“Honestly, your popularity has little to do with whether I gave you a hand. Those destined for success will always achieve it—it’s just a matter of time,” Ye Fangfei responded to his earlier remarks.

Lu Zhou nodded, accepting her point, but added, “In showbiz, timing is everything. I still owe you thanks for helping me.”

Ye Fangfei replied, “You’re too polite.”

Their brief exchange made several at the table uncomfortable.

The conversation felt oddly intimate yet equally formal, creating a subtle tension.

“Lu Zhou, I’d like some spicy chicken,” Li Jiayan abruptly interrupted, smiling softly at him.

The room fell silent.

The transition was rather abrupt.

Lu Zhou didn’t immediately catch on. “Sorry?”

Seeing he hadn’t understood, Li Jiayan’s cheeks flushed as she clarified, “The spicy chicken in front of you—I can’t quite reach it. Could you help me get some?”

“Oh, sure.”

Lu Zhou finally understood and picked up the whole plate, placing it in front of Li Jiayan.

Li Jiayan was baffled—why didn’t he serve her?

She had no choice but to help herself, picking a few pieces into her bowl.

In truth, she hadn’t wanted the dish at all; she was just annoyed by his conversation with Ye Fangfei and wanted to interrupt.

“Anyone else want some?” Lu Zhou asked, holding the plate after Li Jiayan finished.

Li Jiayan was speechless—he really was impartial.