After the Scheming Girl Joined a Dating Show - Chapter 18

Song Yanran watched as Little Bamboo headed straight for the Celestial, presumably to ask for a photo together.

She had planned to wait for Xia Mozhu to succeed and then tag along for a group photo with Su Qin. However, she didn’t expect the girl to be so timid—it was over in less than a second!

Song Yanran had thought she was the only one who felt too much pressure to even ask for a photo with the Celestial—a total betrayal of her title as the “Social Butterfly of Variety Shows.” Seeing that Little Bamboo was just as cowardly made her feel much more balanced.

As for the protagonist, Su Qin only saw Xia Mozhu’s phone flash in front of her. Before she could even process what her own expression looked like, the other girl had bolted.

It was completely different from how she took photos with the others. Was she really that scary?

At that moment, a message popped up on her phone.

[Actor Bai Feng]: Teacher Su, thank you for looking after my sister. She seems a bit afraid of interacting with women. Is everything going okay with the filming?

Afraid? She seemed to be getting along perfectly fine with An Nuo and Song Yanran.

Su Qin replied politely: “She is doing very well.” Eating well, sleeping well, and very popular with everyone.

Su Qin had once made a cameo in one of Bai Feng’s dramas, playing his deceased “White Moonlight.” She had only a few shots, but the cinematography, lighting, and that one peerless, elegant glance back were hailed as the peak of beauty in the domestic entertainment industry over the last twenty years. Many viewers were lured into watching the drama solely because of those few shots.

After watching it, some fans even felt relieved that the Celestial’s character died early. Otherwise, seeing her fall in love with any man would have surely caused them a heart attack.

Xia Mozhu had never mentioned her brother since her debut, so aside from the most dedicated gossip-hounds, few people knew Bai Feng was her biological brother. After all, not everyone knows which celebrities are using stage names.

Su Qin was one of the few in the industry who knew.

[Actor Bai Feng]: I’ll treat Teacher Su to dinner sometime to express my gratitude.

Su Qin replied briefly: “She should be the one to treat me.”

Xia Hefeng, on the other end of the phone, was very sensible. After sending a message saying “I won’t disturb Teacher Su’s busy schedule,” he truly stopped messaging.

The line of people in the industry who wanted to invite Su Qin to dinner but were rejected could circle Hengdian World Studios twice. Xia Hefeng thought optimistically that such a rejection was quite mild; perhaps after a few more tries, there would be a chance. In any case, his sister was still recording the show with Su Qin, so he could always find a topic to chat about.

He just wondered—Su Qin was so cold, would his sister even dare to breathe loudly while living in the same room? He hoped the kid wouldn’t be stifled too much.

“I’ve posted on Weibo and tagged you sisters!” Xia Mozhu’s eyes curved into crescent moons again—provided she was facing An Nuo or Song Yanran.

The moment she noticed Su Qin looking at her, she silently withdrew her smile and darted her eyes around, terrified of accidentally making eye contact.

Even though they had been awake for a long time, the tender, voice-recorded “Hug me” from Su Qin’s phone was still looping in Xia Mozhu’s mind, making her want to dig a hole with her toes every time she saw Su Qin.

She had to spend time alone with Senior Su Qin in front of the cameras this afternoon. What if the other woman couldn’t forget that video either…

At this thought, the world lost its color for Xia Mozhu.

“I interacted with Little Bamboo’s post. This photo was chosen so well.” Song Yanran held her phone, very satisfied with the group photo Xia Mozhu posted. No matter how she looked at it, she looked a bit prettier than An Nuo did in hers.

However, An Nuo had the exact same thought. She felt her photo was much better than Song Yanran’s. After all, her natural features were superior.

Both felt they were more beautiful than the other, which created an unexpected harmony; neither raised any complaints about the photos.

Xia Mozhu refreshed Weibo. Both Sister An Nuo and Sister Yanran had left comments in the reply section. She quickly replied to both.

This was the nature of the job—some friendships had to be put on display so everyone could see they were getting along well while filming. Otherwise, unscrupulous gossip blogs and keyboard warriors would take liberties, fabricating news about “guest discord” to grab attention.

Especially since this show had garnered huge attention due to its lineup, Xia Mozhu, as a newcomer, had to actively show an attitude of humble learning toward her seniors.

Su Qin didn’t have a Weibo account, so Xia Mozhu simply typed her name in the caption. Although the human silhouettes in that photo were a bit blurry, it had an unexpectedly strong aesthetic atmosphere. And since Su Qin had the highest status, she was placed in the center (C-position).

The Weibo post carried the hashtag for The Stars’ Guide to Love, and many people who hadn’t followed the show before were drawn in.

A netizen named “Sugar Shipper” posted a dozen exclamation marks: “Is my internet lagging? Did Su the Celestial join a Yuri dating show?!!! When was this officially announced???”

However, this small post was quickly buried.

While the sisters were enjoying their time together, Su Qin sat alone on the sofa drinking tea, seemingly indifferent to everything happening around her. The two sides looked like they were in completely different genres.

No matter how much Xia Mozhu wanted to avoid Su Qin, she still had to go over and explain. She tugged at Su Qin’s sleeve, her eyes uncomfortably fixed elsewhere, and said: “Senior Su Qin, you don’t have a Weibo, so I couldn’t tag you.”

“Mm.” Su Qin gave her usual one-word answer. It was impossible to tell if she cared or not.

Xia Mozhu, still afraid Su Qin might be unhappy, said cautiously: “If there’s a next time, can I tag your studio? It just feels a bit weird.”

“No need,” Su Qin said.

Xia Mozhu assumed Su Qin disliked social media and was about to withdraw the suggestion when she heard Su Qin add: “I have a Weibo now.”

It wasn’t “I have a Weibo,” but “I have a Weibo now.” As in, it had been created five minutes ago.

Xia Mozhu didn’t notice this subtle distinction. Her eyes widened in surprise. “I thought you didn’t have one?” Even the official show Weibo only tagged her studio.

Su Qin pulled out her phone and flashed it in front of Xia Mozhu’s eyes before immediately pulling it back, giving her no chance for a second look.

Xia Mozhu bet all her visual acuity and only managed to see a rough idea. It seemed to be named “Su Qin Doesn’t Want to Choose a Name.”

Is that it?

Probably.

Before Xia Mozhu could beg Su Qin for another look, the production staff came to notify them it was time to leave for today’s date location. She had to put the matter aside for now.

The BTS staff lady silently filmed the interaction between Su Qin and Xia Mozhu, arching her brow. Su the Celestial’s move just now… was that revenge for the blurry photo earlier?

How strange. And strangely cute.

The location for the first “date”—or rather, “Sisterly Afternoon Tea”—was a flower conservatory.

The conservatory was filled with all sorts of flowers Xia Mozhu had never seen before, and there was a swing she really liked.

“Wow, the crew is so good at choosing locations! It smells so good here!” Xia Mozhu closed her eyes and spun around several times in the fragrance-filled air, eventually stopping right next to the swing and sitting down.

No kid dislikes a swing, especially when someone is pushing you—the joy is indescribable.

A staff member said with a smile, “Teacher Su contacted this place. We wouldn’t even have been able to get in otherwise.”

At that moment, Su Qin walked over and sat on the other side of the swing. Everyone was used to her cool demeanor and instinctively quieted down.

Xia Mozhu, already enchanted by the plants, temporarily forgot the morning’s embarrassment. She turned to Su Qin, her eyes full of excitement: “I love it here!”

Su Qin paused for a few seconds before replying: “I still have my dating fund with you. You have to give it back to me when we pay the bill.”

Completely unromantic.

Everyone knew Su Qin didn’t lack this bit of money; she was most likely joking in her typical serious manner. Fans who grew up watching her knew that back in the day, “Little Su” would talk more when she was happy or proud—just like now.

Xia Mozhu narrowed her smiling eyes, tilted her head, and said, “Sure! How about I give you my share too?”

As she spoke, her hand suddenly flickered behind Su Qin’s ear. She “produced” a flower from there and held it in front of Su Qin, her dark pupils sparkling with bright light.

A very simple, spontaneous magic trick—she just felt it was the right moment for it.

Su Qin clearly hadn’t expected such a move. Her pupils shook with surprise. After staring at her for a long, long time, she reached out and took the white rose that had appeared out of thin air.