Unable to Fall in Love Syndrome - Chapter 22.1

Chapter 22.1 – Sun Side Up Fairy Tale 01 – Part 1

Qiao Shan’s idea was simple: rather than giving him false hope, it was better to cut it off cleanly. It might seem cruel to Xiao Jia in the moment, but it was for the long term.

*

“When you find the daylight more exciting than your dreams, and your heart always seems to be waiting for someone, it means you’re in love or starting to have a crush.”

Seeing this quote in Ying Shengnan’s Moments, Zuo Yi felt like his chest had been hammered. This… was it describing him?

The next morning at five o’clock sharp, Zuo Yi woke up on time. He quickly sat up in bed, brushed his teeth, washed up, and picked out his clothes.

A red tie paired with a crisply ironed white shirt, sleeves neatly rolled up to his elbows. He stared at himself in the mirror for a few seconds, then unrolled the sleeves, flipped his wrists, and carefully fastened the cufflinks.

Once he was done, he realized there were still thirty minutes until six. He poured himself a glass of red wine and sat at the bar, fidgeting like he was on pins and needles, every second dragging like a day.

He opened Moments again and saw that Qiao Shan had liked Ying Shengnan’s post.

What did liking it mean? Did it imply she felt the same way?

Probably, since she had a crush on him. Thinking this, Zuo Yi actually smiled. From the gray mirror on the wall, it looked a bit goofy, so he quickly reined it in, switching back to his usual serious, stern expression.

At exactly six, he stood up, straightened his collar, and waited behind the door for the doorbell.

One minute, two minutes, three… ten minutes.

“Ding-dong—”

The doorbell finally rang. Before the chime could even finish, he swung the door open, staring expressionlessly at the person outside.

So early in the morning, Qiao Shan was startled by Zuo Yi’s cold face. She rubbed his chest and said, “Why the sour face first thing in the morning?” She raised her hand, using two fingers to pinch the corners of his mouth and pull them up into a curve. “There, a smile makes the world better—and helps you find a girlfriend.”

Zuo Yi looked at her.

—Was this how matchmakers flirted with men? Touching his body proactively. Hmm, not bad—keep it up.

In a good mood, Zuo Yi welcomed her inside, pulling three eco-bags from the kitchen and handing them to her. He instructed in a low voice, “Green bag for meat dishes, red for veggies, and yellow for seafood.”

Qiao Shan asked, “Aren’t we eating breakfast before going to the market?”

Zuo Yi replied, “Six in the morning is perfect for exercise; eight is the best time for breakfast. Got it?” He extended his arm, saying seriously, “Help me roll up my shirt sleeves.”

Qiao Shan had never been so particular about meals, so she nodded vaguely in understanding. She lowered her head to undo his cufflinks and roll the sleeves. The angle was awkward, so she couldn’t see the links properly. She ducked under his arm to switch sides, easily unfastening them, her fingers nimbly folding the fabric, carefully rolling it up along his solid arm.

Zuo Yi looked down at the girl seriously rolling his sleeves, and unwittingly, a clear smile tugged at his lips again.

He worked during the day and often overtime at night, so on weekdays, his alone time with Qiao Shan was probably limited to mornings. Previously, grocery shopping was handled by his life assistant, but now he was carving out time to go to the vegetable supermarket himself—and bring her along.

He planned to get home by seven-thirty to cook, eat breakfast at eight, and head to work at nine, which meant an hour and a half of alone time with Qiao Shan.

Zuo Yi took Qiao Shan to the nearby vegetable supermarket, which opened at five every day. By around six, it was already bustling, full of elderly folks picking through fresh produce stalls.

Following Zuo Yi to the meat section, a severely sleep-deprived Qiao Shan trudged along with her head down, eyes half-closed. Zuo Yi stopped at the chicken br3ast counter, but Qiao Shan kept walking, inevitably bumping into a man. His wallet fell from his hand, sliding under the freezer.

The collision snapped Qiao Shan fully awake. She dropped to her knees, crawling to fish the wallet out from under the freezer. As she dusted it off for him, she noticed a photo of a woman inside—her features looked familiar. She was staring at it, lost in thought, when a low, smooth voice came from behind: “Miss?”

Qiao Shan stood up and handed the wallet back. “Sorry, really sorry.”

The man smiled cleanly. “No problem.”

Seeing his face, Qiao Shan exclaimed in surprise, “You’re… you’re Jian Shizhang?”

The gold-medal music producer Jian Shizhang!

Jian Shizhang was dressed casually. At thirty-five, he was well-maintained, his fair skin wrinkle-free, eyes clear and pure, with a friendly demeanor that put people at ease—not at all like the revered figure in the entertainment industry.

“Jian Shizhang?” Zuo Yi was picking chicken br3asts nearby. He turned his head, watching as Qiao Shan bumped into the man, then saw her unceremoniously crawl on the floor.

He walked over, grabbing the hood of Qiao Shan’s jacket and yanking her behind him. Qiao Shan hated when he pulled her hood; she grumbled under her breath while fixing it, jabbing his back hard with her finger.

“Zuo Yi, what are you doing here?” Jian Shizhang looked at him amusedly, then glanced at the girl behind him. “Your girlfriend?”

Before Zuo Yi could speak, Qiao Shan jumped in: “Who’s his girlfriend? You two know each other?”

Zuo Yi pointed at Jian Shizhang and introduced, “My master.”

Qiao Shan gaped. “Master? What kind of master?”

Jian Shizhang kept it brief: “I taught him erhu, but he doesn’t have much time and won’t put in the effort, so he hasn’t mastered it yet.”

Remembering Zuo Yi’s erhu playing that sounded like slaughtering a cow, Qiao Shan bowed her head, trying hard not to laugh.

But she couldn’t hold it in…

Gold-medal music producer Jian Shizhang was famous for his erhu compositions; almost all his tracks for period dramas featured the instrument’s melancholic tones. With such an amazing teacher, for Zuo Yi to still play so badly was like disgracing the lineage—it was unbelievable that Jian Shizhang hadn’t kicked him out.

Jian Shizhang watched Qiao Shan with an amused expression. Zuo Yi turned to look at her too, seeing her shoulders shaking as she suppressed giggles in her throat. His face darkened: “What are you laughing at?”

Qiao Shan lifted her head, forcing a straight face. “Nothing, not laughing.”

Zuo Yi asked, “Not laughing?”

Qiao Shan said, “Right, I’m not—pfft—hahahahaha.” She burst out laughing in front of the two men, clutching her stomach.

Finally meeting a gold-medal music producer, Qiao Shan wasn’t about to miss the chance to expand her matchmaking pool. She pulled out her business card and handed it to him, giving a quick introduction.

Jian Shizhang took the card with his slender fingers, glanced at it, and said, “Oh—you’re Jinyang’s youngest gold-medal matchmaker, Qiao Shan. I know you; you set up Hua Yifei.”

Hua Yifei was one of the top A-list actresses in the industry. After marrying the boss of Ge Cheng, her career hadn’t declined—it had flourished. Balancing love and work, she was the envy of many.

Qiao Shan nodded. “Yes, I matched her with the Ge Cheng boss. Um, Mr. Jian? You’re not young anymore, right? In today’s society, finding a wife isn’t easy, especially for someone like you with status, fame, and money. Finding a reliable woman is even harder. Would you consider joining my matchmaking database? No fees! If you join, I’ll keep an eye out for suitable matches—guaranteed background-checked, compatible, not after your money or fame. What do you think?”

Jian Shizhang glanced at Zuo Yi, then back at her, smiling. “Interesting. How do I join?”

Qiao Shan said, “Simple—send me all your details, the more thorough, the better. You can include a brief on your past experiences too.”

Jian Shizhang hesitated. Qiao Shan patted her chest in assurance. “Mr. Jian, rest assured! We have professional ethics; we won’t leak any client info. Once you find your match, we’ll destroy your file immediately. Look,” she said without turning, smacking Zuo Yi’s chest with the back of her hand, “Mr. Zuo is willing to be my client—what are you hesitating for?”

Jian Shizhang paused, then nodded. “Alright, this bachelor should find a woman and settle down.”

Forget that woman, forget the past, start fresh, and escape that painful dream for good.

He said, “Then, I’m counting on you, Miss Qiao. If you help me get out of singlehood, my payment won’t be less than Hua Yifei’s.”

Qiao Shan nodded, reminding him: “Send the info to my email when you can. Once I file it, I’ll start looking for matches.”

Jian Shizhang smiled. “Sure, no problem.”

After Jian Shizhang left, Zuo Yi poked her shoulder. “When did I become your client? Using me as bait?”

Qiao Shan patted his shoulder. “Hey, I’m making you my spokesperson. If this deal with Jian Shizhang works out, I’ll give you a cut.”

Zuo Yi asked, “How much?”

Qiao Shan held up one finger.

Zuo Yi asked, “10%?”

She shook her head. “One thousand.”

Zuo Yi glanced at her. “Heh, stingy.”

Qiao Shan sighed. “Business is tough these days. My last two matches failed—if I don’t close one soon, I’ll starve.”

As they reached the vegetable section, Zuo Yi meticulously picked red peppers, taking over ten minutes to select just one from the pile. Qiao Shan grew impatient. “How many red peppers do you need?”

Zuo Yi said, “Not many, just ten.”

…