Chapter 21 : Tangles of Trust and Tensions

As Xu Shinian approached, Shen Mengke nodded politely but didn’t speak first.

“Didn’t expect you here,” Xu Shinian said.
Shen Mengke glanced at her.
Xu Shinian, of all people, seemed least likely to need a dating show.
She laughed.
“They said it’s a travel show, so I came.”
Xu Shinian smiled.
“In a way, it is.”

Shen Mengke’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.
Their relationship was oddly awkward—brief coworkers on a halted project, with no real rapport built.
Shen Mengke didn’t know Xu Shinian’s take, but for her, trust needed time she didn’t have.
This was why she avoided variety shows—one photo could spark a trending mess, and a single move could unleash a flood of hate.

She instinctively avoided Xu Shinian’s gaze, keeping her distance.
Looking up, she saw Shu Yun, mingling with the group in the kitchen, watching her.
A jolt of guilt surged through her.

Shi Shuiying had latched onto Shu Yun again, diverting some of her attention.
Shen Jinglei was chatting with Xu Shinian, sticking close.
Friends?
Recalling their Yaozhou meeting, Shen Jinglei had worn a white orchid pin, alone among the group.
It seemed like their first encounter, barely two weeks ago—how were they so close now?
Shen Mengke envied such social ease.

The others were strangers.
Suddenly, she was alone.
In a crowd, hiding one person was easy.
Shen Mengke exhaled quietly, observing while trailing them to tour the rooms.

Chen Xingxing was unexpectedly subdued, not acting like a diva.
But several times, their eyes met, and Shen Mengke caught hostility.
Not an actor, Chen Xingxing’s facade was clumsy, her antagonism fleeting before she looked away.

Song Yian was excessively quiet, barely speaking since introductions, while Liu Xiangqi, talkative, stayed by her side.
Song Yian nodded or smiled occasionally, but Liu Xiangqi dominated.

Shen Mengke’s gaze kept drifting to Shu Yun.
For some reason, seeing Shi Shuiying cling to her grated.
She quickly adjusted, chalking it up to possessiveness over an ex—or friend.
Emotions weren’t rational.
But exes stayed exes.
She refocused, studying the rooms.

Each room, uniquely styled, was charming, with functional spaces that seemed fun.

Tianyin: Please return to the living room for room assignments.
Back in the living room, the sofas were gone, replaced by a giant Ludo carpet and a box with a hole, eight colored ropes trailing out.
Tianyin: Pick a rope and pull it slowly.
The two guests whose ropes are tied together will be paired for the next three days, inseparable.
Some rushed forward eagerly.
Shen Mengke hesitated—she disliked forced bonding.
She lingered, then noticed someone slower.
Turning, she saw Shu Yun, who smiled, gesturing for them to go together.
Shen Mengke nodded.

Few ropes remained.
She grabbed a purple one.
Shu Yun’s eyes lingered on her hand, then whispered to Shi Shuiying, who nodded, handing her a blue rope.
Shen Mengke saw but didn’t react.

With ropes in hand, Tianyin counted, “1, 2, 3.”
Everyone pulled.
Ropes varied in length, each knotted to another.
Shen Mengke stepped back until hers tautened, then looked up.
Shu Yun, unmoving by the box, smiled at her.
Her heart trembled, unsteady.
She bit her lip, mirroring Shu Yun’s smile.
Around them, cheers or groans erupted, but they seemed sealed in their own bubble, the world muted.

Red strings, half a meter long, bound their wrists—close enough to coexist, inconvenient for solo tasks.
Shen Mengke sat cross-legged on the carpet, studying the string.
Shu Yun chuckled.
“You haven’t spoken to me since we reunited.”
Her voice was low, barely for the mic.
Shen Mengke paused.
“It’s… awkward on a show, right?”
Shu Yun smiled, saying no more.
Shen Mengke’s ears warmed.
She turned, spotting Chen Xingxing and Xu Shinian paired, their faces neutral, purely professional.
Shi Shuiying and Shen Jinglei, the youngest, high-fived, laughing.
Liu Xiangqi and Song Yian, outgoing and reserved, seemed a fitting match.

On this show, Tianyin only announced key updates, leaving hosting to Liu Xiangqi.
With her red string tied, Liu Xiangqi held a cue card in her left hand, kneeling on a cushion to elevate herself, her right hand lowered to match Song Yian’s height.

“Sisters, quiet down!
Next, we play a game: Room Battle!”
“It’s Ludo.
Each pair is a team, one round decides the winner.
Pick rooms by ranking, and decide internally who gets which.”

Everyone stood.
Shi Shuiying gaped at the carpet.
“So big!”
Liu Xiangqi grinned.
“This is our battlefield.
No chess pieces—you’re the pieces.
Some squares are ‘Truth.’
Look at the screen!”
A dice icon bounced on the wall-mounted screen.
“With ropes and movement, throwing dice is tricky, so we’ve got an electronic one.
Random, no rigging.”
Laughter followed.
But rigging didn’t matter.
Money could make or break anyone on any show, love or not.
No money, no play—just fate.

Shen Mengke eyed the grid.
“We’re tied.
We move together?”
“Nope,” Liu Xiangqi wagged a finger.
“Each person’s a piece, only one moves per turn.”
“But…” Song Yian shook her rope.
“The rope’s short, the board’s big.
If only one moves, what if we can’t?”
Shen Jinglei: “So, one moves first, then the other must catch up.
If the gap’s too big or movement’s blocked, the roll’s void?”
Liu Xiangqi: “Smart!
If a team can’t move due to the rope, their roll’s skipped.”
“What if ropes cross another team’s?” Shi Shuiying tugged hers, yanking Shen Jinglei, who stumbled, glaring.
Shi Shuiying grinned apologetically.
“They’ll tangle?” Chen Xingxing asked.
Liu Xiangqi’s silent smile confirmed the crew’s mischief.

“What about Truth?
Crew sets questions?” Shi Shuiying asked.
“Nope!” Liu Xiangqi drawled.
“You pick who asks—your partner or anyone else.”
“Wow, spicy!”

Questions clarified the rules.
Liu Xiangqi: “Each team sends one for rock-paper-scissors to set the order.”
Shen Mengke and Shu Yun exchanged looks.
Shu Yun nodded her forward.
Shen Mengke’s luck held—she won first try.
Excited, she turned to Shu Yun, eyes crescent-like, sparkling.
Shu Yun smiled.
“Impressive.”

Whatever her mood joining the show, Shen Mengke loved games and gave her all, even in a bonding exercise.
The game began.
She and Shu Yun stood at the red start, flanked by Liu Xiangqi and Song Yian, Chen Xingxing and Shen Jinglei.
Seeing her excitement, Shu Yun asked, “Want to win?”
Shen Mengke nodded.
“Then we go all out.”
“Deal.”

Her luck was a mix—big rolls like 4, but twice in three turns, she hit Truth traps.
Reluctant to involve others, she let Shu Yun ask.
First: “Anyone you like?”
Shen Mengke froze, unsure if it was a show question or personal.
She smiled.
“We just started.
Am I supposed to fall at first sight?”
“Why not?
Look at me, Sister Shen!” Shi Shuiying teased.
Shen Mengke laughed.
“Sorry, I don’t go for younger.”
Shu Yun’s eyes brightened, letting it pass.

Second: “Who here would you date?”
Too blunt.
Shen Mengke turned, frowning at Shu Yun, who stared back, unyielding.
The silence grew awkward.
Shi Shuiying jumped in.
“Sister Shen doesn’t like younger ones, so… just Sister Shu, Sister Nian, or same-age Sister An?”
“Like someone your age?”
Shen Mengke smiled at Song Yian.
“I admire her.
I wanted to dance as a kid, but my teacher said I was too stiff, no talent.”
The moment passed.
Later, she picked Shi Shuiying for Truth and, oddly, avoided traps entirely.
Suspicious but clueless, she called it coincidence.

She and Shu Yun sailed through, rarely clashing with others, swiftly dodging when they did.
They reached the end first.
Turning, they saw the other three teams tangled in a mess.
Shi Shuiying, trapped in the middle, flailed.
“My hair!
Whose rope’s choking me?
Sister Shen!
Sister Shu!
Help!”
Chen Xingxing: “Shi Shuiying, stop moving!”
Shi Shuiying: “No way!
Surrender, and we’re free!”
Chen Xingxing: “Never.”

Shen Mengke watched them struggle, laughing.
Shu Yun glanced at her, smiling.

The Ludo game broke the ice.
They weren’t close, but the awkwardness faded.
For room selection, Shen Mengke knelt on the carpet, eyeing Liu Xiangqi’s whiteboard sketch—three floors, numbered rooms.
Having toured, they knew the layouts.
The challenge was avoiding others’ picks.
Liu Xiangqi, with Song Yian by the board, said, “Shu Yun and Shen Mengke, first pick.”

They locked eyes.
Shu Yun smiled.
“You choose.”
Shen Mengke shook her head.
“Fair’s fair—rock-paper-scissors.”
She won again.

“Wow, Sister Shen, buy a lottery ticket!” Shi Shuiying, kneeling on a cushion, marveled, lurching forward and yanking Shen Jinglei.
Nearly face-planting, Shi Shuiying was caught by Shen Jinglei’s arm around her waist.
Sitting back, Shi Shuiying patted her chest.
“Close call—almost ruined my face.”
“Thanks, or my career was over.”
Shen Jinglei smiled, silent.

Chen Xingxing: “Can you chill?
You haven’t stopped all day.”
She shot Shi Shuiying a look.
Shi Shuiying huffed.
“Mind your business!”
Surprisingly, Chen Xingxing bantered with her.
Only a year apart, Chen Xingxing, a seasoned star with a privileged background, shed her seniority, bickering like schoolmates.

Liu Xiangqi: “Alright, Shen, pick.”
Shen Mengke studied the board, then turned.
“No strong preference.
Anyone have a favorite?
I’ll avoid it.”
“Me!” Shi Shuiying knelt upright, yanking the rope.
Shen Jinglei winced, hissing.
Shi Shuiying dropped her hand, worried.
“You okay?”
Shen Jinglei shook her head, grimacing.
“Never teaming with you again.
I won’t survive tomorrow.”
Shi Shuiying laughed sheepishly.
“Sorry…”
“No cuts?” Liu Xiangqi asked.
“There’s a first-aid kit.”
“I’m fine.” Shen Jinglei rubbed her wrist, eyeing Shi Shuiying.
“Speak, or your Sister Shen might not resist, thanks to me.”
Shi Shuiying grinned.
“Sister Shen, I want the third-floor room with the floor-to-ceiling window.
Please?”
She clasped her hands, pleading.
Chen Xingxing blinked.
“I’m ahead of you, and I want that room.
What now?”
Shi Shuiying glared, deflated—their team was last.
Her eyes lit up.
“But Sister Xiangqi and Sister An are before you!”
Liu Xiangqi raised her hands.
“We’re set.”
She glanced at Song Yian.
“Right?”
Song Yian nodded.
Chen Xingxing smirked.
“So, Little Stone, give up.”
Shi Shuiying groaned, pleading with Shen Jinglei, who only smiled.
Others looked helpless.
Resigned, she begged, “Sister Xing, please~”
After the fuss, Chen Xingxing relented.
“Yay!” Shi Shuiying nearly raised her arms, but Shen Jinglei swiftly grabbed them, sparing another mishap.

Shen Mengke, watching, laughed.
Seeing no objections, she said, “I don’t like stairs—first floor, Room 1.”
“Room 2,” Shu Yun added instantly.
Shen Mengke blinked—Room 2 was the other first-floor room, adjacent.

“Ohh~”
Cheers and teasing erupted.
Shen Mengke’s ears reddened, but she stared at the board, feigning calm.

She zoned out during the rest of the picks.
Shu Yun’s boldness was obvious to all, but Shen Mengke resisted.
She didn’t want to restart with Shu Yun, though she couldn’t pinpoint why.

The room battle ended without much conflict.
Shi Shuiying, Shen Jinglei, and Chen Xingxing took the third floor; the rest, the second.
Liu Xiangqi: “It’s late—dinner time.
Ingredients are in the kitchen.
Anyone can’t cook at all?”
Chen Xingxing and Xu Shinian raised hands.
Shen Mengke glanced at Shu Yun, who smiled.
“I’m a bit spoiled, but I can cook.”
Shen Mengke grinned.
“I only do basic tomato and egg stir-fry.”
“That’s impressive if done well.”
They shared a smile, then noticed the room’s eerie quiet.
Shen Mengke turned—everyone was staring.
She whispered, “What?”

Liu Xiangqi, stifling a laugh, said, “We’re planning dinner.”
“I’ll cook,” Shu Yun offered.
“I can too,” Song Yian said.
Shu Yun smiled.
“No need.
One-on-one’s best—too many in the kitchen gets chaotic.
Dreamy and I will handle it.”
“Two cooking for eight’s tough,” Song Yian countered.
“How about we split it?
You do half, we do half.”
A solid plan—avoiding clashes, easing Shu Yun’s load, and preventing novice disasters.
Shu Yun nodded, checking with Shen Mengke.
“Okay?”
Shen Mengke nodded.
Dinner was settled.

Non-cooks Chen Xingxing, Xu Shinian, and less-reliable Shi Shuiying and Shen Jinglei moved luggage, while the other four cooked.

Shu Yun and Shen Mengke entered the kitchen, eyeing the pile of ingredients.
Shen Mengke frowned.
“What… do we make?”
Shu Yun tied Shen Mengke’s apron, then picked up two tomatoes.
“Wanna try?”
Shen Mengke hesitated, nodding.

She rarely cooked, surviving on set meals or nearby diners when not filming.
Alone, she saw no need.
Cooking for eight was new.
Sprinkling salt, she froze, unsure of the amount.
A hand covered hers—Shu Yun’s.
She guided Shen Mengke’s hand, shaking lightly.
Salt vanished into the pan, steam clouding Shen Mengke’s face.
Her heart skipped, then steadied, the fleeting rush feeling like a dream.

Shen Mengke made only that dish.
Shu Yun handled the rest—soup, two stir-fries—while Shen Mengke washed vegetables and passed tools, barred from knives.

They handed the kitchen to the others, washing up and returning to the living room.
Chen Xingxing and Shi Shuiying sat on the carpet, gripping controllers, focused on a TV game, muttering.
Shen Jinglei, near Shi Shuiying, scrolled her phone.
Xu Shinian lounged on the sofa, reading.
Shu Yun asked Shen Mengke, “Back to our rooms?
Come out later.”
“But… both of us leaving, is that okay?”

Shu Yun laughed.
“The living room’s full.
Don’t mind their gaming noise?”
“Rooms have cameras too.
What’s to fear?”

Shen Mengke smiled, following Shu Yun to her room without protest.
Her suitcase was already there.
The room had a window-side sofa linked to a bay window overlooking a blooming garden.
Her mood lifted.
She moved to open the window, but Shu Yun stopped her.
“Bugs.
If you want flowers, there’s a swing outside.”
“Nah, outside’s a trap.
Glass is fine.”
Shu Yun stood behind her, smiling silently.

“Upset about my questions earlier?” Shu Yun asked suddenly.
Shen Mengke, kneeling on the bay window, shook her head, gazing at the flowers.
“Maybe I get it—possessiveness?
You missed my growth, so you’re curious about my life.”
“Beyond exes, you’re my sister.
Like how I don’t like Shi Shuiying clinging to you.”
Shu Yun’s expression softened.
“I don’t like her clinging to you either.”

Shen Mengke smiled quietly.
After a pause, Shu Yun spoke again.
“You’ve seemed down since we met.
Why?”
Shen Mengke didn’t answer directly.
“Sister, this time back… you still acting?”
Shu Yun glanced at the camera.
“Why ask?”
“No reason…” Shen Mengke paused, turning to sit on the bay window, looking up.
“They say acting needs aura.
Some lose it after a break and can’t perform well.”
Shu Yun frowned, a flash of anger in her eyes, unhidden.
Shen Mengke, surprised, called softly, “Sister…”
“That’s what they taught you?” Shu Yun crouched, meeting her gaze.
“Aura matters, but who said no aura means no good performance?”
“Few have lifelong aura.
Not every actor has it.
If aura’s everything, what’s the point of your training, what I taught you?”

Shen Mengke blinked, confused.
“I don’t know.
They say I’ve got no aura, my acting’s a mess.”
“Nonsense!”

They stayed in the room until dinner was called.
Shen Mengke’s eyes were red, her lips tight, dazed.

“Sister Shen?
Sister Shen!”
Shi Shuiying’s repeated calls snapped her back.
“Huh?
What…”
Shu Yun, smiling, set a bowl of rice before her, taking chopsticks from Liu Xiangqi.
“She asked if you eat spicy.”
“Oh, I don’t.”

“Wait, Sister Shen, you cried?”
Everyone could tell, but only Shi Shuiying blurted it.
All eyes turned to Shen Mengke.
Shu Yun stood, fussing with dishes to shield her.
Shen Mengke rubbed her eyes.
“Nah, peeled garlic, didn’t wash my hands, touched my eyes.”
Shi Shuiying: “You okay?
Need a check…”
“Sit down,” Shen Jinglei cut in, pulling her back, shoving chopsticks into her hand.
“Move again, and my arm’s done.”
“Sorry, maybe tomorrow…”
“Tomorrow?” Shen Jinglei frowned, glaring, then turned to Liu Xiangqi.
“Sister Qi, can we switch teams tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Liu Xiangqi grinned.
“Rules tomorrow.”
Shen Jinglei smirked at Shi Shuiying.
“Not with you.”
Shi Shuiying huffed, turning away.
Their banter erased the crying topic.
Shu Yun glanced at Shen Mengke, silent in her own world, and left her be.

Shen Mengke poked her rice, recalling the kiss in the room.
On the bay window, she’d bared her struggles—years of pain—to Shu Yun, her guide, sister, mentor, ex-lover.
With no defenses, tears fell, dripping onto Shu Yun’s hand, echoing in the quiet room.
Her heart quivered, unsure whose pulse it followed.

Shu Yun stood, lifting Shen Mengke’s face, kissing her lips.
Her heart stilled, air frozen.
Shen Mengke’s eyes widened.
They were on a show.
A tear fell, blending with hers.
Reason fled.
She hugged Shu Yun, like years ago, like their story’s start.

The memory rattled her.
Kissing Shu Yun… on set.
What about Chen Yanxing?

She’d never faced this.
Her thing with Chen Yanxing was lust-driven; with Shu Yun, emotional.
But it was just a kiss—nothing more.
Not a contract breach, right?
She laughed bitterly—she’d taken that contract seriously.

Chopsticks appeared, placing a vibrant egg in her bowl.
She looked up into Shu Yun’s smile.
“Try it.
You made it.”
“Good?” Shen Mengke asked.
Shu Yun nodded.

After dinner, the red strings came off.
The crew’s final task: write on a pink card words for today’s partner and a desired partner for tomorrow.
She’d said all she needed to Shu Yun.
As for tomorrow, she had no preference.
She submitted a blank card with her name, finished the final interview, and ended the day’s work.
First back to her room, she shut the door, eyeing the camera.
For privacy, it was fixed by the entrance, with limited range.

Behind the wardrobe, she sat on the bed, texting Chen Yanxing: [I want to meet Ren Zhou to discuss signing.]
Last time, unsure about acting, she’d brushed off their talk, not exchanging contacts.
Now, she’d changed her mind.
People waited for her, supported her—she couldn’t leave defeated.
Chen Yanxing was her only link to Ren Zhou.

Late, she expected a reply tomorrow.
As she set the phone down to remove her makeup, it rang—Chen Yanxing.
“Decided?” Chen Yanxing cut to the chase, her background silent, maybe asleep.
Shen Mengke: “Yeah.”
“When’s free?”
“Day after tomorrow, afternoon, after recording.”
“Good, I’ll pick you up.”
Shen Mengke paused.
“Pick me up for what?”
A beat of silence.
“Yaozhou, 8 p.m.”
“Okay…” Shen Mengke hesitated, then added, “By the way, your sister…”
“Hm?”
“Your sister, Chen Xingxing, is on this show.
Need me to look out for her?”
Chen Yanxing paused longer, until Shen Mengke thought she’d gone.
“No, stay away from her.
Don’t be alone with her.”
“Why?”
“She might mess with you.”
“Would she?” Shen Mengke recalled Chen Xingxing—aside from initial glares, she seemed fine, bantering with Shi Shuiying, not malicious.
“She seems okay.”
“She’s faking,” Chen Yanxing said.
Shen Mengke laughed.
“She’s no actor.
If she’s that good, she could win Best Actress…”
“Shen Mengke.” Chen Yanxing cut her off.
“Don’t argue.
Listen to me.”
Shen Mengke froze, frowning.
“Hold on, Chen Yanxing, can’t you talk normally?
What’s with ‘listen to me’?
Who am I to you?
Why should I?”
She hung up, not letting Chen Yanxing respond.

Her phone bounced on the bed, settling.
Fuming, she grabbed it, texting: [Send me Ren Zhou’s contact.
I’ll reach out myself.]
Pure command.
Chen Yanxing, just hung up on, stared at the message, dazed, then typed a number.
Boss-Little Scholar: [She doesn’t add random WeChats.
It’s a phone number.]
Shen Mengke’s frown eased.
She saved the number, satisfied, and went to wash up.

“What’s up?” Ren Zhou asked, seeing Chen Yanxing’s sour face.
“Nothing.
Contract ready?”
Ren Zhou grinned.
“Fox Lady, huh?
You had it drafted the day after Mingcheng.
Forgot?”
Chen Yanxing looked up.
“Why always ‘Fox Lady’?”
“Huh?” Ren Zhou blinked.
“Didn’t you start it?”
Chen Yanxing: “Oh.”
Ren Zhou sighed.
“What’s with you?
Heard what I said about Duan Junyi?
Their reply?”
“You’re the boss.
Your call.”
“What?
You quitting?”

Chen Yanxing didn’t answer, scrolling X to two photos Chen Xingyi sent: one from her first hotel night with Shen Mengke, another of Shen Mengke with a woman, red strings tying their wrists, laughing together.
[Chen Xingyi]: People with partners can join dating shows?
Wild!

“What’s a dating show?” Chen Yanxing asked.
“Love stuff,” Ren Zhou said, annoyed at her silence, scrolling her phone.
“Why?
You joining one?
What about Shen Mengke?
You player.”
Chen Yanxing scoffed.
“Meeting Shen Mengke the day after tomorrow for the contract.
Come.”
“Why?”
“I gave her your number.
I’ll let you know.”
“Why me?
Whose number?”
Chen Yanxing stood, heading out, silent.
“Going home tonight.”

“Oh,” Ren Zhou followed the shift.
“By the way, your Fox Lady’s trending.”
“Hm.”
Chen Yanxing barely reacted.
“Not checking?”
“Nope.”
Shen Mengke trending was rarely good—another CP or scandal.
Ren Zhou frowned, sensing a shift.
Minutes ago, Chen Yanxing was fine; now, post-call, she was stormy.
Ren Zhou liked Shen Mengke’s bowing photo, using Fanxing’s official account, then locked her phone.
Tossing a pebble, she didn’t care what ripples it stirred in already turbulent waters.