82. A woman's heart is the hardest to fathom.

An honest man with a bit of sense, or a reliable man with some foresight, would, if given ten thousand, spend at most two thousand, save three thousand as a precaution against rainy days, and invest the remaining five thousand to forge ahead and earn the next ten thousand. From any perspective, this is the most reasonable approach—at most, only the proportions might vary.

But someone like Bai Haonan, a scoundrel, is different. He would often lavish nine thousand on women and pleasures, then use the last one thousand to make himself look presentable.

In the end, which kind of man do women actually prefer? In any case, Bai Haonan had always been invincible—winning both hearts and wealth.

Originally, Isa wanted to eat the many leftover takeout bags from lunch in the small villa, but Bai Haonan, without allowing any objections, dragged her to the barbecue table. The prime lamb was roasted to a fragrant, crispy, and tender perfection, glistening with oil that dripped continuously, while bright green scallions adorned the surface. The potato girl couldn’t help but drool again, and it seemed Bai Haonan delighted in this spectacular sight, stacking napkins in front of Isa with great amusement.

Chen Sufen ate quietly and calmly, taking only a little, before moving to the side to drink mutton offal soup. Only then did Isa realize the table beside her was also part of their feast. But when faced with Bai Haonan alone, her mouth filled with saliva, ready to spill—perhaps disgusting if it were someone else, but with such a fair and lovely girl, her rosy lips shimmering, slightly pursed as she swallowed hard, it was hard for Bai Haonan not to entertain certain bold thoughts.

Bai Haonan mainly busied himself tearing meat from the rack for Isa, which left her—who always believed men should serve her—feeling a bit pampered and flustered. She tried to offer him the juiciest cuts in return, but even when Bai Haonan did eat, he only took the blandest thigh, peeling away the tastiest skin and fat outside to eat the plain white meat within, refusing everything else: "I don’t eat any spices. Will you drink with me?"

Isa was more than happy to comply—she could even handle white liquor. After two cups, she was in high spirits, meat in one hand, wine in the other, feet propped on a chair as she sang! If another woman did this, it might seem boorish, but with her, it was a burst of wild, unpretentious exuberance—mainly because of her looks. Her melodious voice, by turns high and low, only added to her charm. There weren’t many diners at this barbecue spot on the edge of the woods, but quite a few gazes couldn’t help but linger their way, especially the staff, who quietly moved closer for a better look.

Chen Sufen, in fact, was particular too—she hardly ate offal, only sipping soup and picking at vegetables. Eventually, she sat with her bowl, watching the young couple at the next table, doing her best to detach herself—just as she’d once managed to watch Bai Haonan cycle through his endless stream of women, wondering if she could slowly reclaim her former state of mind.

Bai Haonan was utterly entertained by this delightful girl, but Isa suddenly seemed to remember something, put down her cup, and asked Bai Haonan for his phone to check the time. Then, in a flurry, she called over the waiter, "Pack it all up! Everything to go!" She then dragged Bai Haonan back to the room: "The show’s about to start!" Not forgetting to grab the wine bottle—looking every bit the little tippler.

Seated in front of the television, Bai Haonan realized that the finals of the "Sister Mai" TV station’s talent show were about to start. "You actually watch this?"

Isa was already setting out food and pouring drinks on the coffee table. "I love singing, and I really like that champion from Rongdu!"

Bai Haonan had never mentioned what happened in Rongdu, nor his connection to Qiao Yingna. He simply smiled, finding it all rather curious, and leaned back on the sofa to watch. This feeling was not unfamiliar to him—singers and pro athletes were, in his mind, the same: performing and acting for the cameras. Once offstage, they were nothing special. He would never feel any foolish worship for them.

By the time Chen Sufen came back, having washed her hands and face and changed out of her smoky, barbecue-scented clothes into pajamas, the endless ads and chatter had finally passed, and the contestants were singing their hearts out. She took a bottle of water and sat in the single armchair, thinking it was Bai Haonan who wanted to watch. But then she heard Isa talking knowledgeably about each contestant and couldn’t help but laugh: "You two have great memories, it seems."

Bai Haonan, for once, was proud: "She only knows all this because she watches so much—any fool could do the same!"

Other girls might have taken offense, but Isa nodded vigorously: "Yes, even though there’s only one episode a week, this channel rebroadcasts earlier shows every day. I spend a lot of time in the house watching TV. Only after finishing this show do I watch other entertainment programs or dramas!"

Chen Sufen didn’t quite understand her lifestyle: "Even selling roasted potatoes in a tourist spot should earn some money, right? Don’t you want to make more instead of watching TV all day?"

Isa shot her a quick glance: "You don’t get it!" But after a few seconds, she patiently explained to Bai Haonan: "All we can sell are local specialties. We don’t have the skills to run a restaurant, or the money to build a hotel, let alone open a bar. We can only sell things. Even raising cattle or sheep, it’s the big restaurants from outside town that make the real money. All we can grow are potatoes. And outsiders often cheat us. Two years ago, someone tricked us into planting a lot of maca, and it was all a loss. There’s an aunt next door who cried her eyes blind over it. So we don’t dare try anything else. Even if I managed to make business boom, the local thugs would just come and take a cut. As it is, they show up every few days demanding money. What can I do?"

The college girl hesitated for a while and had to admit, "It does sound tough."

Isa smiled softly, continuing to tear off white meat for Bai Haonan and feed him, even tipping wine into his mouth. If he were any fatter, he’d look like a caricature of the infamous King Zhou. Isa, meanwhile, chattered away about the contestants, especially excited about Qiao Yingna, who had just announced she’d only sing that one song, "Promise," for the rest of the competition—so unique, so distinctive.

Chen Sufen couldn’t help herself: "Do you know he has a special relationship with that Qiao Yingna? And that the song is for him!"

Isa, rather than being shocked or jealous, looked at Bai Haonan with delight and curiosity, but didn’t press for details—her big eyes swirling with meaning.

It was Bai Haonan who put his arm around her: "No need to tell you about that. It won’t matter to you or me anymore. She’s a star now. Unless you want to sing too—I could introduce you to some directors or agents, but that industry is filthy."

Isa nodded, fully agreeing; she was well aware of the scandals erupting lately, and could even recount how a now-arrested judge had extorted bribes from contestants—a story Bai Haonan and Chen Sufen only learned from her. It turned out this fair-skinned girl was an internet addict, spending almost every night at the nearby internet café. Then again, the town had little entertainment to offer—she wasn’t about to spend her money at a bar designed to fleece outsiders, though she did say some local girls worked there: "They tried to recruit me, but I know what kind of place that is—just a quick online search will tell you!"

Bai Haonan quickly warned her: "Whatever you do, don’t search my name, or tell anyone you know me. There really are people out to get me."

Isa threw him a flirtatious glance: "But I want to!" She hooked her lips and took his hand. "So you’re the guy who smashed a bottle and ran away—amazing!"

Bai Haonan wanted to act cool, but it just came out as showy: "It was nothing…"

Isa jumped up and kissed his cheek: "But you’re never allowed to do that for another woman again!"

Even Chen Sufen, usually so composed, felt overwhelmed by their display and quickly interrupted: "It’s starting! Qiao Yingna’s coming on stage!"

Isa wrapped her arm around Bai Haonan’s and cheered, chest out, while Bai Haonan happily enjoyed the moment.

Onscreen, as the platform rose, Qiao Yingna appeared in a flowing white dress and glasses. Compared to her days as a bar singer, she now bore the deep stamp of individuality.