Don’t Chase Me, It Won’t Work Out - Chapter 2

Zhou Yirou left, cleanly and without a hint of hesitation.

Tears shimmered in Tao Youqing’s eyes, but she held them back. Gazing at the doorway through her blurred vision, she remained silent for a long moment before finally taking a deep breath and cursing, “Damn it, Zhou Yirou, you heartless b1tch!”

Then she could no longer control herself and burst into tears. She cried for her heart that Zhou Yirou had crushed, and for the five years she’d spent foolishly orbiting around Zhou Yirou without an ounce of dignity.

At this moment, she felt both exhausted and lost. Zhou Yirou would never like her—she only had eyes for Jiang Yaling. So why had she stubbornly held on until today?

If five years of waiting couldn’t earn her a response, then there was no point in waiting any longer. It was time to wake up and walk away, at least preserving some dignity so she wouldn’t appear so pathetic in front of Zhou Yirou.

As her uncle had once said, if someone isn’t close to you, don’t show them your despondent, vulnerable side—because they won’t comfort you. They’ll only see you as a weak failure.

She couldn’t let Zhou Yirou think of her as a failure. She would leave with her head held high, making it clear that Tao Youqing didn’t need her and wasn’t that desperate.

Burying her face between her knees, the more she thought it through, the harder she cried. Fat teardrops pattered down, but this time, it wasn’t out of unwillingness—just pure venting of the grievances in her heart.

Liking someone for five years without even earning a single glance in return—any claim that it didn’t hurt or feel unfair would be a lie. She needed to let it out. Like her uncle said, when you’re hurting, just cry. Once you’ve cried enough, you’ll feel better.

—Once she was better, she would never like Zhou Yirou again.

Then her phone chimed, cutting off her sobs. She lifted her reddened eyes to look at the device on the table.

It was Guan Meilin.

Guan Meilin had first sent a link, followed by a string of messages—a mix of endless “Ahhhs” and exclamation marks, as if she were extremely excited.

Meilin typed, “AHHHHHH GIRL YOU HAVE TO SEE THIS!!! THE TOP COMMENT IS ABOUT YOU!!!”

She followed up with, “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

And then, “OUR TAO FAIRY IS THE ABSOLUTE BEST!!!”

Confused, Tao Youqing couldn’t fathom what kind of trending comment would involve her and get Guan Meilin so worked up. Wiping her tears, she unlocked her screen and clicked the link, finding a topic posted by a blogger, “That Person Who Left You Stunned and Unforgettable.”

Sure enough, the top comment was about her—or rather, her from five years ago.

The person who nominated her had shared a photo of her performance from a talent show back then, captioning it, “They say you shouldn’t meet someone too dazzling in your youth. After she withdrew from the competition, I understood this saying. QAQ Seriously, I’m still not over it!!! Why did someone this talented have to drop out???”

Tao Youqing casually opened the attached image—her younger self in a red performance outfit, smirking arrogantly at the camera with a lazy, defiant gaze, as if she had the whole world beneath her feet, unshaken by any storm.

Even through the screen and across five years, she could vividly sense just how confident and radiant she had been on that stage.

As she looked at the image, the tears in her eyes quietly stopped, and her attention completely shifted to this particular comment.

She clicked to view the replies beneath it, and to her surprise, many people were genuinely expressing regret over her withdrawal from the competition back then—some lamented, some were indignant, and there were even conspiracy theories.

Reading these replies one by one, memories from that time surged through her mind—

She, Jiang Yaling, and Guan Meilin had actually been trainees in the same batch. Both she and Guan Meilin were from Xinglan Entertainment, so they had known each other for a while. However, she wasn’t particularly close to this wealthy heiress at first—it was only later that they unexpectedly became best friends.

At the time, the three of them represented their respective companies in a survival show. She had prepared thoroughly, confidently showcasing her charm and talent on stage. In the very first episode, she captivated both the live audience and viewers at home, leaving behind numerous viral stage photos.

Back then, every trainee in the competition believed she was a surefire debut candidate—she herself was just as confident. Her uncle had taught her to always believe in herself, no matter what—to know she was the best!

But then, an unexpected incident severely affected her emotions.

Her mother fell seriously ill, bedridden, and the exorbitant medical expenses plunged their already struggling family deeper into hardship. Her uncle, worried sick about his only sister, worked around the clock to scrape together the surgery fees, wishing he were a machine that could just recharge and keep going without rest.

She was heartbroken for her uncle, who had raised her with such love and care, and terrified for her mother. The weight of it all left her in low spirits for a while—and this period just happened to coincide with the survival show.

But she quickly pulled herself together because worrying wouldn’t change anything. They had borrowed all the money they could, and now the only thing left was to work even harder. If she debuted, she could earn money—a celebrity’s income was far more substantial than an ordinary people.

Yet Xinglan Entertainment didn’t give her that chance. The person in charge approached her, demanding she withdraw from the competition. The reason? Her mother’s illness would “affect her performance.” Xinglan claimed they were doing her a favor by letting her leave to care for her mother.

Honestly, when she heard that excuse, she was stunned. The way she looked at Xinglan in that moment was like staring at a scam operation—that reasoning could easily top the list of the year’s most baffling decisions!

No matter how much she insisted she wouldn’t let her emotions interfere with the competition, Xinglan refused to listen, adamant about her withdrawal. And at that time, Xinglan wasn’t yet under Zhou Yirou’s management.

She sensed something was off but couldn’t immediately figure out what. Combined with the family crisis, her mood took a nosedive.

But that was precisely when Zhou Yirou appeared—covering her mother’s staggering medical bills under the guise of “protecting Xinglan’s reputation,” urging her not to blame the executives who had forced her withdrawal. In essence, it was hush money, but it came like rain in a drought.

She had no choice but to comply completely with Xinglan’s demands and withdraw.

That was how she and Zhou Yirou first met. It was also from that moment she began paying attention to Zhou Yirou… and step by step, fell for her.

Bringing her thoughts back to the present, though she was grateful for Zhou Yirou’s generosity, she couldn’t help but curse under her breath, “Damn, what a cursed fate!”

If it hadn’t been for her poverty back then, she wouldn’t have wasted these five years!

Whatever happened in the past, she had now decided to stop liking Zhou Yirou.

After crying and venting, she pulled herself together. From this moment on, she wouldn’t let her heart flutter for Zhou Yirou anymore, wouldn’t chase after her shadow. The name “Zhou Yirou” had become a distant and unfamiliar “President Zhou” in her heart.

Slapping her cheeks lightly to clear her mind, she replied to the still-chattering Guan Meilin, Tomorrow, dinner?

Meilin answered, Sure! What do you wanna eat?

Tao Youqing, her eyes still red, typed two words without hesitation.

Barbecue.

It was Jiang Yaling who didn’t like barbecue, not Tao Youqing.

She was going to enjoy a hearty meal without worrying whether Zhou Yirou would approve—if love was gone, so be it, the next one would be better!

…

Under the twilight, the Yueyong Entertainment building stood silently in the city center. In the top-floor CEO’s office, a woman with delicate features and an imposing aura sat behind her computer, idly playing with an elegantly packaged fruit-flavored cigarette. Her bright, star-like eyes were fixed on the screen, focused on the top comment under the trending topic “That person who left you awestruck and unforgettable,” a faint smile lingering on her lips.

A refined man entered after knocking—her secretary, Huo Ming’en.

Having worked with her for years, Huo Ming’en was reliable and trustworthy, both her right-hand man and a friend. Their conversations were always relaxed and casual.

She tapped the cigarette lightly on the smooth desk, producing a soft sound.

Huo Ming’en asked, “What’s on your mind?”

Yuan Ruiyu replied leisurely, “Wondering what Zhou Yirou was thinking back then.” Before he could respond, she turned to him and asked, “What’s up? Why aren’t you off work yet?”

Huo Ming’en said, “Miss Jiang’s contract is expiring this year. She wants to discuss renewal with you face-to-face the day after tomorrow.”

Yuan Ruiyu gave an indifferent “got it” expression, her beautiful eyes showing neither anticipation nor refusal, as if she were merely listening to someone talk about dinner. She asked, “Anything from Old Yuan that needs my attention?”

Huo Ming’en said,  “Chairman Yuan is currently busy trying to surpass the record you set last year. He said you can stay at Yueyong and rest until he breaks it.”

Yuan Ruiyu chuckled. Her father was full of energy, always eager to meddle and compete with his children. Whenever his daughter led the Yuan Group to a new performance record, he would enthusiastically step up to break it, only for her to return and surpass him again—an endless cycle of fun.

Since Old Yuan was so spirited, she didn’t need to worry about the Yuan Group for now. She could rest at Yueyong and enjoy being CEO Yuan for a while.

Yuan Ruiyu relaxed, “If there’s nothing else, let’s arrange the meeting.”

Huo Ming’en replied, “Understood. I’ll make the arrangements shortly.”

Yuan Ruiyu casually scrolled the mouse, the comments rolling on the screen. One in particular caught her eye.

@SoTalkativeToday wrote, It’s been five years with no news from her. Her talent has likely faded by now—she definitely can’t be as stunning as she was five years ago. So, wake up if you’re waiting for her return, unless you want to be utterly disappointed~

—Impossible.

These three words burned into Yuan Churui’s vision. She asked casually, “Ming’en, do you remember Tao Youqing?”

Huo Ming’en adjusted his glasses slowly, thinking for a moment before replying, “That trainee you once regretted not having at Yue Yong?”

Yuan Churui nodded lightly, a faint smile playing on her lips as she pointed at the glowing screen. “Someone here claims Tao Youqing can’t possibly be as dazzling as she was five years ago.”

Huo Ming’en froze when he heard those familiar three words.

“Impossible”—to Yuan Churui, these words were a trigger. Once activated, they ignited her fighting spirit and curiosity, because she loved challenging what others deemed impossible. That had always been her way.

In the past, when people said Yue Yong Entertainment under the Yuan Group wouldn’t last, she took charge personally, turning the supposedly short-lived company into an industry giant that thrives to this day. She even became the young Chairwoman of the Yuan Group, shattering countless “impossibles” with her capability and confidence.

So, to her, the impossible often meant possible—or even… inevitable.

Huo Ming’en trusted his boss had good judgment. Her willingness to challenge the “impossible” was always grounded in ample confidence, capability, and precise judgment—if even she deemed something impossible, then it truly was.

But come to think of it, why was their young Chairwoman suddenly interested in a rival company’s artist?

Pushing his glasses up, Huo Ming’en ventured carefully, “Young Chairwoman, you’re not thinking of…”

Signing Tao Youqing—this “impossible”—are you?

Yuan Churui tossed her cigarette onto the desk, answering only with a light chuckle. Some things needed no words.

Huo Ming’en said, “If I recall correctly, Tao Youqing belongs to Xinglan Culture? So, you’re eyeing a rival’s artist now?”

Yuan Churui didn’t deny it.

Huo Ming’en asked calmly, “Have you considered that she might have given up singing and dancing over these five years, losing her spark?”

Tao Youqing had indeed been the most talented contestant back then, but talent could fade with time. If Yuan Churui signed an ordinary Tao Youqing, it would defeat the whole purpose.

Of course, Yuan Churui had considered this possibility, but to her, it wasn’t an issue. She replied composedly, “My margin for error is 100%.”

Whether Tao Youqing still had that spark or not, the outcome wouldn’t be a loss for her.

As long as Tao Youqing still dreamed of stardom, Yuan Churui would sign her—if Yue Yong could sign the low-profile Queen of Hearts with millions of followers, surely, they could sign someone who wanted to be a star?

Huo Ming’en hesitated. “But she’s still under Xinglan Culture…”

Yuan Churui didn’t deny this fact, her expression as unreadable as ever.

Jiang Yaling’s contract was about to expire. And Tao Youqing’s contract… seemed to be ending too?