After Being Hopeless at Singing and Dancing, I Exploded in Popularity Due to My Appetite - Chapter 70

That day, Tao Nian watched movies until three in the morning.

She didn’t figure out anything.

No movie would spend two whole hours on “spring melancholy.” Lin Qianman had only recommended a small segment from the film to Tao Nian, but Tao Nian watched the entire movie.

She didn’t understand.

And the poetry recitations.

“Spring melancholy” was always associated with a dim moon and murky wine, none of which Tao Nian knew anything about.

She put down her phone, wanting to sleep, but even with her eyes closed, she was still pondering that feeling.

In her dream, a night during her Idol 101 days inexplicably appeared. She was sitting on the stairs, eating. Moonlight shone through a small window opposite, and Lin Qianman stood in front of her, looking up at the moon.

The moonlight descended, leaving a bright patch at Lin Qianman’s feet.

It was like frost on the ground.

What was Lin Qianman thinking at that time?

She only slept for just over two hours, waking up at six to warm up her voice with her master.

Xu Xiaoqing didn’t expect Tao Nian to actually be able to get up so early. She liked Tao Nian even more and taught her a few more techniques. When they went to eat at 7:30, she asked her: “Do you understand that feeling now?”

Tao Nian was a bit hazy. Thinking of Lin Qianman’s profile from her dream yesterday, she paused, lowered her head to take a sip of soup, and then somewhat guiltily shook her head.

Xu Xiaoqing picked up a piece of vegetable for her with her chopsticks: “It’s okay, no rush with this. There’s still a lot to learn anyway, just keep it in mind.”

Then Tao Nian began her long period of practice and contemplation.

During this time, Fang Wen indeed gave her a new Weibo account.

She logged in, looked at the advertisements on the homepage, and idly posted: “Thinking of changing jobs, becoming a mukbanger.”

Only Fang Wen knew about this account. Besides the zombie followers and official accounts automatically added when registering for Weibo, Fang Wen was its only follower.

Fang Wen quickly saw this Weibo post.

She screenshotted it to Lin Qianman: “How can Nian Nian have such strange ideas? Why don’t you try to dissuade her?”

Lin Qianman looked at it, confirmed it was indeed Tao Nian. She also confirmed that Tao Nian had never mentioned anything about mukbanging or changing jobs to her, not even once.

She wanted to change jobs, but she didn’t tell me.

This feeling was a bit… lost.

Lin Qianman felt an emptiness in her heart, much like the feeling of a child she had raised from a young age secretly having a crush on someone and not telling her. If asked, she’d say she was simply annoyed.

Lin Qianman inexplicably took out her phone and sent a message to Tao Nian: “Work hard. Don’t overthink.”

That evening, Tao Nian went for a walk with her master. The clouds were thick, completely obscuring the moon, but for a moment, the moon still peeked through the clouds. Bright and clear.

Tao Nian ultimately still didn’t understand what that feeling was like, but after seeing so many examples, she at least managed to perform a little of it. As for singing it, it was more about technique than emotion.

However, the water-grinding melody is gentle and lingering, and besides experts, no one would truly obsess over the emotions in the voice.

On the last day, everyone gathered to perform on stage.

After the performance came the interview.

It was about the insights they gained from the story they had drawn.

Tao Nian had listened to The Peony Pavilion many times, and her master had highlighted the key points for her again and again, so she answered this question very smoothly: “Love knows not whence it springs, yet it goes deep, and the living can die for it, and the dead can be revived by it. Those who live yet cannot die for love, or die and cannot be revived for love, have not truly felt love’s utmost power.”

These were the original lines from The Peony Pavilion.

The interviewer might have already anticipated Tao Nian’s answer. She smiled and asked her: “Then what do you think yourself? Do you think you understand it?”

Tao Nian said as a matter of course: “I understand. Love doesn’t know when it starts, but by the time you realize it, it’s already very deep. Love can make the living die, and it can bring the dead back to life. If it can’t, then it’s not true love.”

The interviewer smiled: “That’s right.”

On the way back, Tao Nian was still puzzled, not knowing why she was asked that.

She had, after all, genuinely studied for several days. How could she not know something like that? Although everyone now spoke in vernacular, she had learned classical Chinese with her master on Qingnan Mountain. Asking her that seemed to be looking down on her, thinking she was uncultured and couldn’t understand the opera lyrics.

She glumly told Zhang Jingyue about it.

The flight was only an hour long, and no one slept; everyone was awake and very quiet.

Zhang Jingyue chuckled softly, opening her mouth to say something to Tao Nian. But before she could speak, she cautiously looked left and right, took out her phone, typed a few sentences, and showed them to Tao Nian.

On the memo, Zhang Jingyue wrote: “Your answer wasn’t her question at all. She was probably asking for your views on love, right? What were you answering? A translation of classical Chinese?”

Tao Nian whispered: “Huh?”

Zhang Jingyue waved her hand, then typed again: “But it’s nothing. That question isn’t really suitable for an idol from a survival show anyway; anything you say might not be good. You accidentally stumbled into playing dumb, which is pretty good.”

Tao Nian: “…”

After Zhang Jingyue finished, she was still a bit puzzled. She typed again: “You don’t have to say it in the interview, but can you tell me now what you think love is?”

Her eyes were full of gossip.

She was practically one step away from asking what the situation between Tao Nian and Lin Qianman was, and where they would go with Tao Nian’s view on love.

Perhaps because she felt the question was too blatant, she chose a more subtle way of asking.

She forgot that Tao Nian had always been unable to grasp implications in others’ words.

So she blinked, thought very hard, and said: “I don’t understand.”

What exactly is love?

Can it really make people die and come back to life?

Don’t understand.

Zhang Jingyue glanced at Tao Nian, realizing that she was seriously saying she didn’t understand.

She quickly realized that her way of asking the question was wrong. She coughed and asked again: “What exactly is going on between you and Sister Lin now?”

Tao Nian blinked: “What’s wrong with us?”

Zhang Jingyue also blinked: “Don’t you like her? Have you ‘licked’ her yet?”

For some reason, many people had recently been subtly asking Tao Nian about this. She herself searched her name on Weibo and found that many people had changed their names to “Has Tao Nian licked Lin Qianman today?”. Some even posted this sentence repeatedly every day.

It got to the point where Tao Nian almost couldn’t recognize the word “lick.”

At the same time, Tao Nian was very confused.

She didn’t think there was anything wrong with mentioning “licking fur.” Back on Qingnan Mountain, during springtime, the small animals would openly groom each other by licking.

But after coming down the mountain, no one did that anymore. She also hadn’t heard anyone use “licking fur” or similar terms. So she thought it might be a different custom, that humans weren’t keen on such things.

Now, suddenly, people were constantly asking “Has Tao Nian licked Lin Qianman?”, and she found it a bit puzzling. She didn’t know why these people kept urging her to lick Lin Qianman. I already said I haven’t licked her! Why do they keep bringing it up?

However, she was now more confused about something else.

Zhang Jingyue said she liked Lin Qianman.

It was already evening. Tao Nian sat by the window. Looking out, she saw the bright moon in the distance and countless lights below. Tao Nian was perplexed: “What does ‘liking’ feel like?”

“You don’t know?”

Zhang Jingyue spoke directly, as this wouldn’t reveal any privacy: “Didn’t you sing The Peony Pavilion quite well? You’ve watched it so many times and still don’t know?”

Tao Nian honestly shook her head.

The opera segment Zhang Jingyue drew was The Heavenly Match. She thought for a moment, roughly explained the plot of The Heavenly Match to Tao Nian, looking a bit troubled. She typed to show Tao Nian: “I also don’t really know what it feels like to like someone. But it’s probably like Liu Mengmei and Du Liniang, the Seventh Fairy and Dong Yong, you and Lin Qianman.”

Tao Nian wanted to speak, but Zhang Jingyue stopped her. Zhang Jingyue handed her phone to her: “Type it.”

The phone was forcibly put into her hand. Tao Nian didn’t know how to start. Her mind was racing, feeling like she could talk for a long time if she opened her mouth, but Zhang Jingyue told her to type, and she felt she didn’t know where to begin.

Finally, with great difficulty, she typed: “What does that feel like? Can it make you live or die, can you give up immortality, can you do many very difficult things?”

“But it should make you happy, right? If it doesn’t make you happy, you probably wouldn’t like it.”

Tao Nian: “…”

She glanced at Zhang Jingyue.

Zhang Jingyue, who had been single since birth and had never been in a relationship, how could she tell Tao Nian what it felt like to like someone?

She awkwardly quoted a lot of online “chicken soup for the soul.” Seeing that Tao Nian still didn’t understand, she sighed: “Forget it, for a foodie like you, being able to share your food with someone is true love.”

Tao Nian was dissatisfied: “I’m very good at sharing.”

Indeed, Tao Nian was different from the conventional definition of a foodie; she would share her food with others.

Zhang Jingyue couldn’t think of anything else.

But Tao Nian was still looking at her, waiting for an answer.

She became agitated: “If you think of her in everything you do, that’s probably liking her.”

After saying that, she pointed to the clouds outside the airplane window: “What do you think of?”

Tao Nian glanced, then swallowed: “Cotton candy.”

Zhang Jingyue: “Of course. You and your cotton candy should just be together.”

Tao Nian tapped her now-off phone with her fingertip, pursed her lips, and said nothing.

After getting off the plane, she sent a message to Lin Qianman: “I’ve landed, I’m going to eat cotton candy!”

Lin Qianman didn’t reply.

Tao Nian was glum. She sent another message to her master, Feng Jun: “Master! I’m going to eat cotton candy!”

Two days ago, her master suddenly called her. Although she didn’t answer immediately, she at least got her master’s contact information. Occasionally, when she had time (and when Lin Qianman was busy and didn’t reply), she would talk to her master (telling her the things Lin Qianman didn’t reply to).

But Feng Jun wasn’t as interesting as Lin Qianman.

If Lin Qianman saw it, she would probably tell her to eat less, that too much sweetness would cause a toothache.

But if her master saw it, she would only ask what cotton candy was.

Her phone beeped. Tao Nian looked.

Sure enough, she was asking what cotton candy was.

Zhang Jingyue saw her busily typing on her phone and asked her: “You’ve been chatting with someone a lot lately—telling them everything you see, isn’t that what liking someone is?”

Tao Nian didn’t know what cotton candy really was, so she could only explain to her master that it was a soft, fluffy, sweet little snack that looked a bit like a cloud.

Concentrating on describing cotton candy, she didn’t quite hear what Zhang Jingyue asked. She glanced at Zhang Jingyue: “What?”

Zhang Jingyue gossiped: “Who’s on the other side? Sister Lin?”

Tao Nian: “My master.”

Tao Nian held up her phone to show Zhang Jingyue her chat page with Feng Jun: “I told her I want to eat cotton candy, and she doesn’t know what cotton candy is.”

Tao Nian’s master…

Zhang Jingyue knew about this person. When she first met Tao Nian, Tao Nian always talked about this master. She usually started her sentences with “My master told me…”

It just slowly turned into “Lin Qianman told me…”

After hearing Tao Nian talk about Lin Qianman so much, she forgot about the master’s existence. Tao Nian even said she was kicked off the mountain by her master, were they still in contact now?

Zhang Jingyue’s expression was a bit unnatural: “Your master, huh.”

Tao Nian nodded: “Mm.”

Just then, Lin Qianman replied. Sure enough, she was reminding her to eat less, that too much sweetness would cause a toothache, and that it was bad for her health, blah blah blah.

Tao Nian’s lips couldn’t help but curve upwards slightly.

But in Zhang Jingyue’s eyes, Tao Nian was just chatting with her master, and as she talked, she smiled.

She thought of cotton candy when she saw the clouds, told her master she wanted to eat cotton candy as soon as she got off the plane. And she couldn’t help but smile while chatting.

So, Tao Nian, wasn’t she “licking” Lin Qianman after all?!