OSTF - 67

Chi Suisui wavered between the two issues for a moment before deciding to keep her act of selfishly eating the fish soup hidden.

After all, the matter with the bodyguards had already been exposed.

Chi Suisui chose a relatively cheerful piece for He Xingwang, with a simple melody that began with a fast-paced rhythm.

Most of the cello performances He Xingwang had heard were slow and solemn. This was indeed his first time hearing something so lively—it felt refreshingly different.

The person across from him sat on the stool, her long hair cascading down. The silk pajama dress accentuated her delicate collarbone, her shoulders exuding sensuality, and the skirt falling gracefully around her.

At home, Chi Suisui played the cello casually, her movements light and carefree, humming softly along with the melody.

From the rapid opening to the lively middle section, she grew increasingly at ease. Despite not having touched the instrument for months, her skill remained impeccable.

He Xingwang sat there, eyes slightly closed.

If Chi Suisui hadn’t chosen to become a journalist, she would have made an outstanding cellist.

Or perhaps it could be said that in every world, she excelled—whether in things she loved or those she didn’t.

As the melody gradually slowed toward the end, Chi Suisui occasionally glanced up at He Xingwang. At this moment, he was a perfect listener.

He gave her excellent feedback.

When the final note faded, Chi Suisui’s lips curled slightly as she reached out to gently touch the strings.

She truly had forgotten about it for a while.

Chi Suisui picked up the cello, preparing to head upstairs. She had expected He Xingwang to stop her, but to her surprise, he simply watched her ascend.

Wasn’t he going to press further about the bodyguards?

It seemed her method had worked quite well.

Chi Suisui raised an eyebrow, feeling rather pleased with herself. After placing the cello back in the music room, she stood elegantly on the staircase and called to him, “Aren’t you coming up?”

He Xingwang lifted his gaze. “We still have something to discuss.”

“…”

For a long moment, Chi Suisui could only descend the stairs, resignedly saying, “Fine, ask whatever you want—I’ll answer honestly.”

She sounded somewhat disheartened.

He Xingwang found her expression amusing and spoke calmly, “I’ve seen the news about the food factory. You could have just told me the truth.”

“It’s not like I was trying to hide anything—it’s just that I didn’t want you to worry,” Chi Suisui blinked innocently.

“Suisui,” He Xingwang called her name again, his eyes fixed intently on hers. “I don’t think there’s any need to conceal something like this.”

“Did you install surveillance on me?” Chi Suisui asked.

“I wouldn’t restrict any of your normal activities,” He Xingwang denied her assumption. “But situations like this require protective measures.”

Since taking over the He family business, he was aware of almost everything.

Chi Suisui pondered his words and suddenly blurted out, “I already hired over ten bodyguards—isn’t that enough? Are you suggesting I should add more?”

“…”

He Xingwang took a deep breath. “I’m referring to other aspects.”

Chi Suisui smiled brightly, her radiant grin directed at him. “There’s really no need to worry. Everyone fears death—including me. My courage is limited.”

Her demise would have to be flawless.

Chi Suisui absolutely refused to meet an untimely accident in some undesirable place, becoming the headline of a sensational news story that everyone gossiped about.

That would be utterly tragic.

He Xingwang doubted the authenticity of her claim about being timid and decided not to dwell on the matter further.

Chi Suisui recounted her experience at the food factory. While it might have sounded dangerous, in reality, it wasn’t much of an issue.

The factory employees were ordinary workers, with only a few security guards—mere amateurs compared to the professional bodyguards she hired.

Thus, Chi Suisui immediately sought out the bodyguards.

Fearing the police might arrive too late, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Su Mian and Yu Yang were her reporters and employees; naturally, she couldn’t let anything happen to them.

And so, the matter of the bodyguards was settled.

Just before heading upstairs, Chi Suisui glanced at the kitchen and casually asked, “Have you already eaten tonight?”

“Yes.”

He Xingwang replied indifferently—he had eaten at the shooting sports center before returning.

Chi Suisui sighed in relief, feeling that her act of selfishly drinking the fish soup could also pass unnoticed. Her mood instantly brightened.

Her emotions were too obvious, and He Xingwang cast a glance her way.

The sight of her animated beauty was captivating, prompting him to look twice.

“Why are you looking at me?” Chi Suisui asked.

“You seem to be in a good mood,” He Xingwang remarked.

Chi Suisui’s heart skipped a beat. She tilted one corner of her lips upward. “Everything has settled—it’s natural for my mood to be good.”

She turned her head to look at He Xingwang. “And you’re back.”

He Xingwang neither confirmed nor denied it. “The key point is probably the first statement.”

Chi Suisui teased, “Why do you have such high expectations?”

As for whether that was true or not, she wouldn’t say.

Later that night, while sitting on the bed, Chi Suisui opened a video platform. During their earlier video call, Su Mian had mentioned that the dating reality show had aired.

But Chi Suisui clearly remembered that filming had been halted.

Upon opening the video, she noticed there was only one sponsor—a company specializing in overseas markets, relatively unknown.

She raised an eyebrow. Were they planning to enter the domestic market?

Chi Suisui clicked on the video.

The dating show had been renamed because the original version had been banned. However, with so many similar shows available, a name change effectively created a new program.

Due to the complete withdrawal of previous sponsors and investors, this dating show now had only one company backing it.

As a result, it appeared rather lackluster.

Two of the female guests had been replaced. Glancing through, Chi Suisui felt as though she were watching some awkward drama. The introductions were awkward, the conversations were awkward—everything was awkward.

He Xingwang emerged from the bathroom and saw her frowning. “What are you watching?”

“A variety show.” Chi Suisui flipped the tablet to show him. “Does it look familiar?”

He Xingwang glanced at the title—it was unfamiliar—but he could guess. “The previous dating show?”

“Yes, it’s undergone a makeover.”

With policies above and countermeasures below, it was clear the production team wasn’t willing to abandon the show’s potential and the traffic from previous seasons.

“Thankfully, I didn’t participate.”

Chi Suisui stroked her chin thoughtfully. “If I had gone on the show, you’d be seeing me drinking milk like this, sleeping in beds like that, and forced to make awkward small talk with them.”

She would rather listen to the plastic conversations of socialites.

At least those were somewhat entertaining, filled with memorable one-liners. Unlike this show—sitting together exchanging a few words while playing mind games, then having to sleep in the same room at night.

“Indeed, it wouldn’t work,” He Xingwang said as he sat beside her, casually glancing at the screen. “On your first day, you’d probably have torn the room apart.”

And shredded the production team too.

He left the rest unsaid.

Chi Suisui’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “Exactly! The point is to enjoy myself. Why should I compromise for some reality show?”

Being a little princess at home was much better.

Chi Suisui closed the video—it was so awkward that she couldn’t even describe it. Online comments echoed her thoughts.

Almost immediately after the show aired, it was met with nationwide criticism.

[Is this the same variety show? Why is this season so bad? Did the production team get overconfident?]

[Who are these people they invited? Everyone has网红脸 (internet celebrity faces), and their chins look like they’re about to pierce the screen… Weren’t the ones leaked earlier quite good-looking?]

[This show should just end already.]

[I’ve been looking forward to this for so long. They stopped filming last time, changed the name, and now this is what we get? Disgusting.]

Forums were buzzing with real-time discussions about the show.

[All I can say is, thank goodness Chi Suisui didn’t participate.]

[The costumes and color tones are all indescribably bad.]

[Even if she had gone, her good looks wouldn’t have saved such a trashy show.]

[What were the producers thinking? One bizarre move after another. This show should’ve ended last season.]

[No variety show ever surpasses its first season—it’s an unchanging law.]

This show served as proof of what happens when there are too many gimmicks.

Dragging others into the lineup to boost ratings—even after being rejected by guests, they still got dragged out for ridicule. If it weren’t for Chi Suisui’s refusal, who knows how things might have turned out.

In no time, the show was forgotten.

When the ten or so episodes concluded, it announced its finale with a total of several tens of millions of views, a third of which came from curious viewers checking out the first episode.

As for the participants, they wished they had never joined the show.

They had come hoping to enter the entertainment industry, but the poor quality of the show not only failed to gain them fans—it even earned them haters.

Let whoever wanted to watch this show deal with it.

The dating reality show flopped without a splash.

Chi Suisui found it amusing, but Su Mian followed it closely, tracking its progress daily. The day after it ended, she posted on her social media.

Song Miaoli remained unusually quiet.

Su Mian: [Why hasn’t Dr. Song surfaced lately?]

Song Miaoli: [Post-breakup syndrome.]

Su Mian: [?? When did you break up?]

This question was answered during dinner that evening.

Dr. Song had been quite melancholic recently, even sporting a gloomy makeup look. “We broke up a couple of days ago. My life is losing a pretty face.”

Chi Suisui calmly asked, “Did your plan succeed?”

At the mention of this, Song Miaoli coughed lightly, her voice dropping slightly. “I chickened out a bit, but it still worked.”

It was hard to put into words.

Song Miaoli belonged to the type who talked a big game but froze up in action. She had conceived this plan months ago but only executed it recently.

The timeline spanned two to three months.

And not long after, she proposed the breakup.

“You should’ve seen Xiao Gu’s expression when I brought up the breakup. I think he was utterly shocked,” Song Miaoli recalled.

“How did you phrase it, Dr. Song?” Su Mian asked curiously.

Song Miaoli vividly described the scene to Chi Suisui and Su Mian.

It happened two nights ago. She had planned the timing well because her family had already made arrangements.

She went on a date with Gu Nanyan, had dinner, and then bluntly said, “Xiao Gu, let’s break up.”

Gu Nanyan asked, “Why?”

Song Miaoli didn’t try to hide it. “My family has already arranged blind dates for me. They don’t approve of us.”

Gu Nanyan replied, “I can make them happy.”

Song Miaoli didn’t believe him at all. “You can’t possibly satisfy them.”

How could he? Unless a trillion dollars fell from the sky, her family might reconsider—but that was clearly impossible.

Gu Nanyan, thoroughly deflated: “...”

Song Miaoli gave him a sad kiss and said, “Let’s part ways amicably. By the way, I won’t send you an invitation to my wedding.”

Gu Nanyan’s expression turned strange.

“Where did you go during the New Year?” he suddenly remembered, his gaze deep as he looked at the sorrowful girl.

The answer was simple.

“I flew to Paris overnight for shopping,” Song Miaoli said, taking a bite of meat, addressing Chi Suisui and Su Mian.

For a brief moment, Chi Suisui’s expression froze.

Su Mian, however, was deeply immersed in their love story and sighed, “Fate works in mysterious ways. Don’t be sad, Dr. Song.”

Chi Suisui asked, “You didn’t go home even once?”

Song Miaoli replied, “Why would I go home? I didn’t want to attend blind dates. During the New Year, I was still someone with a boyfriend.”

Chi Suisui’s eyebrows arched slightly.

Mentioning this, Song Miaoli suddenly put down her chopsticks, her expression peculiar. “My mom and dad are so satisfied with that blind date candidate. They said he doesn’t care about my past relationships. Do you think there’s something wrong with him? Are there men who don’t care about that?”

She rattled off a long string of words.

Chi Suisui couldn’t help but laugh. “He probably really doesn’t care.”

After all, the candidates were always the same person.

Su Mian, completely unaware of the truth, began to worry. “Oh no, Dr. Song. I think this might be a sham marriage.”

In fact, fake marriages were quite common among wealthy families.

Song Miaoli didn’t find it strange, though the situation struck her as fascinating. She also felt a bit resistant to the idea.

After the meal, the three went their separate ways.

It was now April, the weather gradually warming up, and clothes becoming lighter.

Chi Suisui seemed reborn. After becoming a boss, she became even more unrestrained. On weekends, she took He Xingwang’s private jet to attend fashion shows.

Though Fashion Week had mostly wrapped up in February and March, there were still plenty of private shows.

Chi Suisui had many designer friends and had invested in several of their studios. Saying she went to watch shows was essentially like visiting her own companies.

She even wondered why she hadn’t thought of starting a news agency before. He Xingwang’s image suddenly grew larger in her mind.

So on the night she returned to the country, Chi Suisui called him.

After a long pause, he finally answered. “Hello?”

“It’s me.” Chi Suisui heard the silence on the other end but didn’t think much of it. “I’ll bring you fish soup in a couple of days, okay?”

“No need. I’m very busy lately.” He Xingwang’s voice was low.

Chi Suisui’s enthusiasm felt like it had been poured onto ice in winter. “Alright. Your voice sounds like something’s wrong. What’s going on?”

He Xingwang lowered his gaze. “I just had a nightmare.”

Chi Suisui chuckled. “You have nightmares too?”

He Xingwang hummed in acknowledgment and said nothing more.

Chi Suisui sensed he didn’t feel like talking tonight. After exchanging a few casual words, she hung up.

A prolonged dial tone followed.

“For now, there aren’t any issues, but we can’t act for a few days,” the woman on the other side cautioned. She then glanced up.

“Understood.” He Xingwang’s expression remained unchanged as he stood up to leave.

Li Huaiming packed up the items on the table and followed behind, unable to resist speaking. “Is hiding this really okay?”

He Xingwang shot him a glance. “Do you see a problem?”

Li Huaiming hesitated. “What if Sister-in-law suddenly decides to visit?”

“...”

“He Shen, I’m scared when you look at me like that.”

Among everyone at the shooting sports center, Li Huaiming respected Coach Zhu, but fear was nonexistent. The only person he truly feared was He Xingwang.

Especially when he stayed silent.

“My hand is injured, not broken,” He Xingwang said dismissively, his gaze drifting away. “She won’t know.”