Me And My Four Dancers - Chapter 2
Chapter 2: Online Dating?
Chen Ze put away his phone and left. Yan Shuo went back to his bedroom for a nap. When he came out, the others were already awake and waiting for dinner.
M.E.N. consists of five people: Yan Shuo, Chen Ze, Fu Xinyan, Qi Haoyu, and Li Jin.
The company’s marketing personas are: Yan Shuo is the mature and gentle captain; Chen Ze is the handsome and cool genius; Fu Xinyan is the spoiled rich second-generation brat; Qi Haoyu is the youngest, the thoughtful and lovable younger brother; and Li Jin is the emotionally intelligent, easygoing person who loves to liven up the atmosphere on variety shows.
But in reality, without the official filter, Yan Shuo sees this fake group:
Chen Ze: the noble, aloof, and otherworldly heir to the Javanese royal family.
Fu Xinyan: Drama queen, pretentious, stupid, and pretentious.
Qi Haoyu: A brat, a real idiot who reposts silly jokes on his fake Weibo account every day and laughs out loud.
Li Jin: A man who’s secretly dating his agent, a top-tier scumbag who changes girlfriends faster than he changes clothes.
And he himself: An all-around idol, stunningly beautiful, hardworking, dedicated, and well-deserved of his reputation.
In short, perfect.
Yan Shuo thought about it objectively. Although the process was not good, the result was not bad. He was more suitable for the center position than Fu Xinyan.
Yan Shuo washed up again and had brunch with his teammates.
The atmosphere at the table was normal. It seemed that the exposure of his fake account had not affected their relationship. Of course, only a good relationship would be affected. They’ve been together for two and a half years and still acted so insincerely, which shows that there’s really nothing to affect.
To be frank, after living and eating together for so long, they already knew each other’s character.
Given that, Yan Shuo felt relieved and sat down as if nothing had happened.
To his left sat Qi Haoyu, to his right Chen Ze, to his right Li Jin, and across from him sat Fu Xinyan. Although they were all sitting next to each other, the table was large, so the distance between them wasn’t too close. Yan Shuo politely greeted them and then went about his business.
They were particular about what they ate. For example, Qi Haoyu had been trying to lose weight recently, and his diet was strictly controlled by his agent’s assistant, Xiao He (Li Linjia was a busy woman and didn’t usually follow them around, so Xiao He was her spy). He couldn’t eat this or that, and his days were miserable.
Yan Shuo had much more freedom, but he was a picky eater, liking everything. Xiao He had to persuade him to eat more and break his picky eating habits, not eating like cat food.
As he and Xiao He talked, Qi Haoyu watched with envy.
The others ignored him, and Chen Ze simply wore headphones, his angular profile expressionless. Fu Xinyan had been feeling down lately, sullenly taking a few bites before leaving the table. Li Jin played with his phone while eating, occasionally smiling, seemingly chatting with one of his girlfriends.
—This was their daily routine.
I had an announcement to make later; today’s mission was to record a program at a TV station to promote a new song.
M.E.N.’s new song is called “Butterfly,” a vibrant and soulful song written by Chen Ze himself.
Chen Ze’s persona and his work are in stark contrast. In person, he’s like a vast, white snowy mountain, towering, cold, and monotonous. His songs, on the other hand, are like a tropical rainforest, vibrant and mysterious, with unexpected twists and turns emerging from them.
On the way to the TV station, Yan Shuo sat in the nanny car, closing his eyes and softly humming “Butterfly” several times. It wasn’t that he loved it so much, but he had nothing else to do except sing to himself for his own amusement.
His phone was confiscated, and it was inconvenient to pull out his spare phone right under Xiao He’s nose, so he had to endure it.
Yan Shuo endured for a long time, singing from “Butterfly” to “Only the Moonlight Shining on You,” and then singing their debut hit “Do You Know I Love You” again. Qi Haoyu, who was sitting next to him, finally couldn’t bear it anymore: “What’s up, Brother Yan, are you in a good mood to sing?”
“Yeah,” Yan Shuo replied casually.
Qi Haoyu chuckled: “I just followed the trending searches and looked up your secondary account.”
Yan Shuo: “…”
“I didn’t realize you’re so humorous, Brother Yan,” Qi Haoyu said, his attention shifting. “I also think Brother Ze’s dancing is like doing radio gymnastics.”
“…”
Yan Shuo was speechless. He subconsciously looked up at Chen Ze in the front row. Chen Ze didn’t react, probably not having heard. Fortunately, Qi Haoyu knew that speaking ill of someone to their face could easily lead to a beating, so he immediately changed the subject. “It’s a shame your smurf account isn’t working right now. Otherwise, we could follow each other. By the way, you could register another one! How about that? Do you want to open a new account?”
“No,” Yan Shuo said. “Jia Jie is a murderer.”
“Oh, Jia Jie is too strict. Even stricter than my mom.” Qi Haoyu sighed sympathetically. “Actually, I understand you. With jobs like ours, it’s stressful and boring. It’s normal to find a place to vent. Who doesn’t have things on their mind, right?”
“…”
“But Weibo is really unsafe. I never post on Weibo, only on QQ.”
“QQ?” Yan Shuo finally piqued. How do you post on QQ? On Space? But Space is a completely private space, too private. Venting out your grievances in such a place where confidentiality is guaranteed wouldn’t be possible. Unlike Weibo, which offers a subtle sense of both privacy and publicness, it’s more satisfying to confide.
But Yan Shuo was just asking casually. He no longer planned to create a smurf account, not on any website. He was psychologically traumatized.
Qi Haoyu denied his suspicions and bluntly replied, “QQ friends.”
“…” Yan Shuo, “Aren’t you afraid of them exposing you?”
“What’s there to expose? She doesn’t know who I am. She wouldn’t even believe me if I said I was Qi Haoyu.”
“…”
Yan Shuo was convinced.
“Well, let’s get straight to the point,” Qi Haoyu said, his voice lowered, like a thief. “Actually, it’s my girlfriend, our online crush—hey, don’t laugh, brother. It’s a different era these days. Online dating is just one of many ways to fall in love. Online dating, no face-to-face, safe and secure!”
Yan Shuo: “…”
His silly teammates never let him down.
Yan Shuo didn’t want to talk to Qi Haoyu anymore. Qi Haoyu had only turned eighteen last month. He was a child, too immature.
He looked down at his watch, wondering how far away the TV station was. Why hadn’t he arrived so long? Sure enough, time passed so slowly when he wasn’t on his phone on the road.
Qi Haoyu, however, was still nagging. Perhaps sensing his subtle disdain, he felt a bit embarrassed and forced an explanation, “Actually, dating is good for your physical and mental health. You’ve never been in one, have you? Seriously, Brother Yan, think about it. You’re out and about, running around, taking high-speed trains and planes, singing and dancing all day, and then you come home at night to a sweetheart waiting for you on QQ, asking, ‘Honey, are you tired? QAQ You got off work so late today, hug, good night.’ — Warmth? Doesn’t it feel different instantly? Aren’t you touched?”
Yan Shuo: “…………”
Touched, so touched. What a beautiful post-2000s love story.
Yan Shuo felt a little tired and said tactfully, “Brother, I don’t think this approach is right for me.”
“Why not?” Qi Haoyu was enthusiastic, lowering his voice again. “Look at Brother Jin. He was having a secret affair with the heroine of ‘Lan Lan Lan’. After they broke up, it was almost exposed to the paparazzi. He’s always teetering on the edge of crime. Sooner or later, Sister Jia will kill him. I’m different. I just turn off my QQ account, and no one will know. How safe.”
“…”
“Besides, don’t overthink it. Just chat with someone and relax. What’s the big deal? That’s the advantage of online dating. If you get bored, you can just block them. There’s no need to worry.”
“…”
Yan Shuo marveled. Although Qi Haoyu was only eighteen, he already showed signs of potential as a scumbag. Maybe he could inherit Li Jin’s legacy in the future.
Yan Shuo didn’t argue. Qi Haoyu knew he was persuaded and immediately opened his QQ list. “Well, let me introduce you to someone. We know each other well and it’s safe.”
Yan Shuo: “…”
Qi Haoyu tapped on his phone screen. Yan Shuo watched, curious, as Qi Haoyu clicked on a friend category called “Baby’s Babies.” There were seven or eight people in it.
“These are my girlfriend’s best friends. Most of them are single.”
“Real-life best friends?”
“QQ best friends.”
Yan Shuo fell silent. Qi Haoyu said, “Brother, pick one. Which one do you like?”
At this point, Yan Shuo randomly clicked on someone with a picture of a dog as their profile picture. Qi Haoyu exclaimed, “Strange! This person looks unfamiliar. Who is he? I didn’t even add a name. That’s not right… How about this? Write down the number and I’ll ask them later. I need to tell them, otherwise they won’t add strangers.”
Okay, that’s pretty cool.
Yan Shuo took the number, discreetly pulled out his spare phone, and added the girl as a friend on QQ.
Qi Haoyu suddenly said, “Brother, do you know how to chat with girls?”
“I know.” Just because he’d never been in a relationship didn’t mean he couldn’t.
Qi Haoyu, however, seemed unsure of him. Adhering to the principle of “giving Buddha a good time,” he said, “It’s very simple, but I’m telling you, the ‘little milk dog’ thing is all the rage right now. Girls love that type.”
“What do you mean by ‘little milk dog’?”
“This.” Qi Haoyu typed on the screen to demonstrate, “Miss, my friend introduced me. Are you online dating? QVQ.”
Yan Shuo: “…Just kill me.”
Yan Shuo regretted it, but the friend request had already been sent. As soon as he finished, the nanny car pulled up.
The TV station crew was already waiting, and a group of media outlets were still outside, probably waiting to see him off. Yan Shuo put on sunglasses, covering most of his face, and got out of the car with a blank expression. He walked past the media outlets and refused to answer questions.
Backstage, he had to put on makeup and change into his costume, which was another busy process. By the end of the show, it was almost dark.
The TV station provided dinner, but Yan Shuo was a very picky eater, so he only ate a few token bites before leaving. Afterward, he ate something Xiao He had bought for him in the nanny car.
His teammates were no longer surprised by his special meals.
Yan Shuo was still sitting in the last row. He glanced up and saw Fu Xinyan editing his Weibo post again, unsure what to post. Chen Ze leaned back in the front seat, his head slightly lowered, seemingly on his phone. Li Jin was also on his phone, as was Qi Haoyu—it must be said that phones are human beings’ best friends.
Yan Shuo ate silently for a while, and while Xiao He wasn’t paying attention, he pulled out his spare phone.
Coincidentally, at that moment, QQ vibrated, signaling a successful friend addition.
The other person’s QQ nickname was “Fan,” a simple word that hinted at its owner’s somewhat irritable personality.
Yan Shuo perked up a bit. Qi Haoyu was right. After a tiring day at work, it was nice to have someone entertaining him and chat with him after a break. Then, he thought back to the tone Qi Haoyu had demonstrated. The “little puppy” part was really off-putting and didn’t fit his style. He should just stay true to himself and go for the cool guy look.
Yan Shuo said coolly, “Hi, are you dating online?”
The message went through, and within seconds, the other party replied—
Annoying: “?”
“…”
What the hell are you talking about question marks? It seems this young lady is really irritable.