A common language can be found gradually.

At this moment, Bai Haonan was simply hoping he might at least bump into some other tourists on the mountain. Weren’t there supposed to be plenty of backpackers and thrill-seekers camping out here? Surely, he’d run into some silly girl eventually. Yet, even as dusk fell, he hadn’t found a single new target in this remote, little-known spot. The few tourists he did see were either couples or elderly folks. Left with no better options, he returned awkwardly to the guesthouse and turned his attention to teasing the staff instead.

No main course tonight—at the very least, he needed a bowl of plain rice.

Luckily, Chen Sufen, refreshed from a nap, came down for dinner and promptly retrieved her man, apologizing to the flustered waitress whose flushed cheeks betrayed her mounting nerves. The strangest part was that this beautiful wife didn’t seem upset in the slightest.

But what reason did Chen Sufen have to be angry? To say she had reached the point of utter despair might be an exaggeration, but few knew better than she what kind of man Bai Haonan was. “When it comes to finding a man, you can’t expect to have it all. If you want someone ambitious who makes good money, you can’t also ask him to be a homebody who’s constantly focused on family. If you want someone devoted to home, don’t expect him to be a big earner. If you want someone brimming with masculine energy and prowess, you can’t expect him to be single-mindedly loyal. In short, you can’t have everything, can you?”

Crushed by disappointment, Bai Haonan slumped on the terrace, listless as a sulky child. “Fine, whatever you say. I honestly have no idea what you even study at university. Is this what you’re learning?”

Chen Sufen, with the gentle patience of a kindergarten teacher, poured him a glass of beer, smiling. “Enough! That girl looks the way she does. If you don’t mind, I’m the one who should feel embarrassed. We’re already here—why not try adjusting your attitude and appreciate the moment?”

With a nightclub air, Bai Haonan feigned exasperation. “You could at least bring out some dice to liven things up! Just drinking like this is no fun. Is there karaoke? Drinking games?”

Chen Sufen quickly apologized, “Ideally, we’d have some red wine in a setting like this, but up here on the mountain you’ll have to make do.”

Bai Haonan’s view on red wine was, “Mix that stuff with Sprite and it’s no different from beer. Only you would come up with something like that. And you didn’t even prepare any snacks?”

The university girl clinked glasses with him. “Nighttime, stretched out on a terrace chair like this, music in the air, a cool breeze, tree shadows, and the stars above—it’s perfect! Remember when you took me to the basketball court as kids to watch the stars and catch fireflies?”

He emptied his glass in one gulp. “Of course. I ended up covered in mosquito bites!” As he spoke, he started slapping at his arms.

Chen Sufen turned her face aside, listening to the faint strains of music drifting from inside the room. The dim outdoor lamp at the corner of the terrace cast swaying shadows through the branches. Her eyes shimmered with moisture. “Haonan, only when I’m with you do I feel my very soul is free. You always live life on your own terms. I want to accompany you and be my truest self. Is that alright?”

Bai Haonan tipped back the bottle, gulping it down before replying, “Fener, you’ve changed. You’ve gone all sentimental, learning a bunch of useless stuff. I always told you to study hard so you could make good money and have a better life. But the more you study, the more you come back to me. You even think a rough guy like me is worth your time. I’m just a wanderer, messing around, can’t you see that? All that schooling, wasted on me!”

Perhaps what drew Chen Sufen to him was precisely that mixture of paternal care and the big brother who’d once pulled her from the mud. A mischievous smile played on her lips. “Well…the mattress inside is pretty nice, and the bathtub fits two, you know?”

Ah, now that was a language they both spoke. Bai Haonan’s hands twitched in anticipation, and Chen Sufen’s voice turned syrupy: “Hold me…let’s go inside…”

Indeed, under the starlit sky, asking Bai Haonan to count constellations for romance was pointless—a far better idea was to reveal her graceful figure. Only now did he realize she’d draped herself in a sheer shawl, her legs…well, Bai Haonan had no words for how they made him feel. His heart thumped hot in his chest as he reached for her.

As the saying goes, since you’re already here and there’s nothing else to do, why not?

In such a moment, believing a man could resist would be as absurd as believing pigs could climb trees.

A long while later, both were sprawled in satisfied contentment on the bed. Chen Sufen flipped through the TV channels with the remote, the earlier music having served its purpose well. By chance, she paused on a segment of entertainment news, where scandals about the talent show’s rigged selection were being exposed one after another.

Bai Haonan felt a bit out of sorts, his gaze wandering wickedly over the girl’s smooth, toned, and springy back as he wondered what else he might explore. But before he could act, Chen Sufen curled up in his arms with a hum. “That Miss Qiao, she may not have had her wedding night yet, but she’s certainly had her first bloom, hasn’t she?”

Poor Bai Haonan had no clue about the allusions or teasing in her words. He muttered that he wasn’t interested, but as soon as their skin touched, he was as deft as ever, his hands roaming skillfully while he multitasked. “First bloom? What’s that got to do with me? She just sings well, that’s all…”

Chen Sufen couldn’t withstand the practiced teasing for long, her voice turning nasal and soft. “So…did her voice sound lovely to you back then?”

A clever riposte—Bai Haonan was instantly reminded of Qiao Yingna’s soaring, trembling notes, so moving they brought tears to the eyes. Energized, he was ready for another round, caring not a whit if the world outside was submerged in chaos.

Indeed, nearly twenty-four hours had passed. Aside from the police having identified the brave soul who intervened and was injured, no one was paying attention to the mysterious “Brother Hao” anymore. The talent show had become a nationwide sensation; even spending tens of millions more on promotion couldn’t have produced such universal recognition.

Of course, up until midday, the event organizers at the broadcasting station were secretly elated. The media industry had shed all pretense of morality; scandals and rumors were the apex of attention-grabbing tactics, and the payoff was immense. But as the day wore on, especially after eliminated contestants began publicly denouncing their mistreatment, the situation took a sharp turn. Major national sponsors and naming-rights holders started asking questions—now that the scandal was so one-sided, if the situation spiraled out of control, they’d have to protect their brand image. Whether that meant quietly withdrawing or initiating lawsuits, it was a different style of crisis management—sometimes, pushing the talent show into the pit was the only way to save themselves.

For the first time, the show’s organizers, who had been keeping a deliberately ambiguous stance, began to panic and tried to salvage the situation.

Yet crisis management requires real skill, and at least for the moment, the broadcasting station found itself utterly unable to regain control. The scale of the scandal made it clear this wasn’t the work of one or two disgruntled individuals. The uproar was so intense it seemed a rival network must be orchestrating a kill shot, and many media outlets were more than happy to fan the flames for free. So far, not a single solid lead on the source of the leaks had emerged.

It was like riding a wild horse—exhilarating at first, but the beast was now racing toward a cliff, and no one could find the reins. The organizers were completely at a loss.

Their only hope was Qiao Yingna, praying she would make a public statement to clarify the situation.

This, of course, thrust Qiao Yingna even further into the spotlight—her fame now unmatched and untouchable, no one dared approach this bespectacled young singer lightly.

It was time for the “Song Queen” to take the stage.