Whoever Falls in Love First is the Dog - Chapter 21

Chapter 21: “Your Fox Lady Miss Is Trending”

Xu Shinian approached, and Shen Mengke gave her a polite nod but didn’t speak first.

“I didn’t expect you’d join this show,” Xu Shinian said.

Shen Mengke glanced at her. It was actually more surprising that Xu Shinian was here—she didn’t seem likely to be lacking opportunities for relationships. She smiled softly and replied, “They told me it was a travel show, so I came.”

Xu Shinian smiled and replied, “In a way, that’s true.”

Mengke’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. Their relationship now felt awkward. Although they’d worked together briefly before, they never had enough time to build chemistry—and then the film set was abruptly halted. Shen Mengke wasn’t sure what Xu Shinian was thinking, but she knew she couldn’t fully let go. On the show, even the smallest gesture could be misinterpreted by the internet. She instinctively avoided Xu Shinian’s gaze, maintaining her distance. When she looked up again, she saw Shu Yun watching her from the kitchen entrance—and her heart clenched.

Shi Shuiying, unaware of the tension, was chatting and following Shu Yun. Shen Mengke watched Xu Shinian talking to Shen Jingli and guessed they were friends. Looking back, she remembered Shen Jingli wearing a white gardenia pin when they first met in Yaozhou—half a month ago. How had they become so close so fast? Sometimes Shen Mengke marveled at others’ networking skills.

Soon, she realized she was alone in the group. With so many people around, it was easy to be overlooked. She actually felt a moment’s relief. While browsing rooms, she observed Chen Xingxing, who was surprisingly quiet but shot her cold looks—she clearly saw Shen Mengke as a rival. Xu Shinian’s partner, Shen Jingli, interacted normally. Liu Xiangqi was talkative, sitting next to Song Yi’an, who quietly nodded. Mengke’s eyes often drifted to Shu Yun, especially when she saw Shi Shuiying clinging to her—it made her uncomfortable. She dismissed the feeling, reminding herself that it’s just former-relationship insecurity.

When everyone reconvened in the living room, the set had changed: all sofas were gone, replaced by a giant Flying Chess game mat on the floor and a box with eight colored ropes protruding from it. The host announced:

“Choose a rope randomly. Each pair of connected ropes means you’ll be roommates for the next three days and nights.”

Players crouched down around the box. Shen Mengke hesitated—she wasn’t good at following blindly or making attachments. As she reached, she saw Shu Yun behind her, smiling and inviting her to choose. She nodded and picked a purple rope. Shu Yun whispered to Shi Shuiying and received a blue rope, which she held for herself. Mengke was puzzled.

Everyone drew ropes on “one, two, three.” Purple rope connected to Shu Yun’s blue rope—exactly as Mengke had half-expected. Their ropes became a visible bond, locking them into a subtle barrier from the rest of the group. They sat together as if in a private world. Shu Yun softly said, “You haven’t talked to me much since we started.”

Mengke, slightly embarrassed, whispered back, “It feels… awkward.”

Shi Shuiying and Shen Jingli were next to each other; their ropes paired them. Liu Xiangqi and Song Yi’an also paired up. Hosts explained the rules of the Flying Chess and Truth-or-Dare style questions, triggered when landing on special spaces. On the opposite side of the board, Shen Mengke noticed Xu Shinian and Shen Jingli were quiet and seemingly unromantic—but peaceful.

As the game began, only one person moved at a time because of the rope. The risk of getting tangled added fun—and friction. Shen Mengke elevated herself, won the first rock-paper-scissors round, shaking with excitement. Shu Yun, watching her, smiled quietly.

Their partnership clicked. On her turn, Shu Yun asked:

“Do you like anyone here?”

Mengke paused, then joked, “It’s just started—should I fall in love with someone right away?” She looked toward Shu Yun, looking for a sign to change the question. Shu Yun stayed silent.

The room grew tense. Shi Shuiying saved the moment, teasing, “Shen-jiejie doesn’t like younger sisters, so who older? Maybe Shu‑jie or Xu‑jie—or same generation?”

Shen Mengke smiled and turned to Song Yi’an: “I like you—you’re wonderful. When I was young, I wanted to dance, but teachers said I had no talent.”

She didn’t land on another truth-question trap with Shu Yun and me—after their second round, they had flowed through easy power plays and avoided tangles. They finished first.

Meanwhile, others tangled and teased in playful chaos on the big board. Finally the roommates chose their rooms. Shu Yun and Mengke ended up in adjacent rooms on the second floor—sparking cheers and laughter from the group. They both blushed a little.

Shen Jingli and Song Yi’an claimed a corner room; Xu Shinian and Chen Xingxing picked a third-floor room. Later, hosts introduced cooking duties: several said they couldn’t cook, including Xu Shinian and Chen Xingxing. Shu Yun offered to cook with Shen Mengke; Song Yi’an volunteered too. Ultimately, they split kitchen duties—Mess chaos avoided.

In the kitchen, Shu Yun directed, and Mengke chopped tomatoes—her only task. Shu Yun took over the cooking. She sprinkled salt with Mengke’s help, leaned in to steady her hand—it sent a spark through Mengke. After cooking, they washed up and brought the meal out. Some played video games, others read quietly.

Shu Yun suggested they retreat to their rooms to freshen up and rest. Mengke worried it might be awkward, but Shu Yun replied:

“There are cameras in the rooms too. No point staying in the noisy living room.”

In their room, a window flowerbed signaled spring vibrancy. Mengke moved to open the window, but Shu Yun gently stopped her, “Be careful of bugs. There’s a swing outside if you want to see the flowers.”

They paused. Mengke had stayed silent until Shu Yun said softly:

“Earlier in the questions, did that upset you?”

Mengke turned to the window and replied, “Maybe I thought… you were being possessive. Because you missed my growth years.”

Shu Yun softened and whispered, “I didn’t like Shi Shuiying being so clingy to you either.”

Mengke gave a slight smile. Silence followed.

After a long while, Shu Yun asked, “Why have you seemed unhappy since we met?”

Mengke stayed mute, then finally asked, “Sis, now that you’re back… will you keep acting?”

Shu Yun glanced at the camera: “Why are you asking?”

Mengke hesitated. “They say actors lose their spirit if they stop acting too long…”

Shu Yun frowned. Mengke stood, turned her face away to hide tears; she was reflecting all the criticisms she’d heard. Then Shu Yun crouched and gently took Mengke by the chin. She kissed her—a soft, tender, camera-blurred kiss.

In that moment, they forgot the cameras, the others, everything. Mengke blinked through tears, thinking of her contract with Chen Yanxing—but “this” was more than just passion. She leaned in and kissed back.

A whisper: “Come eat.” Shi Shuiying called. They broke apart. Shu Yun brought food to Mengke’s bowl, smiling: “Try what I made.”

Mengke nodded.

After dinner, they removed the red rope and wrote pink cards naming a partner they wanted the next day. Mengke wrote her own name and handed in a blank card—indicating she was open to anyone.

She went to bed first and, after the cameras were off, texted Chen Yanxing:

“I want to meet with Ren Zhou to talk about signing the contract.”

Later, Chen Yanxing called:

“Decided? When are you free?”
“The day after tomorrow, after recording ends.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you at Yaozhou station at 8 PM.”
“Why are you picking me up?”
“Because.” Then she added more firmly, “Keep away from Chen Xingxing—don’t be alone with her.”
“Why?”
“She might try something.”
“She’s fine.”
“Don’t argue with me,” Chen Yanxing snapped.
“Who are you calling me?” Shen Mengke was startled by the harsh tone and hung up.

She texted again:

“Send me Ren Zhou’s number.”

She got the reply and smiled before washing up.

Meanwhile, Xu Shinian and Ren Zhou chatted. Xu Shinian listened and nodded: “Forgot you said fox lady miss before—coming back from Mingcheng, the second day you had a contract drafted?”

Ren Zhou replied: “Yes. And Shen Mengke is trending.”

Xu Shinian barely responded: “Huh.”

Ren Zhou frowned: “Not even looking?”

“No.”

Shen Mengke trending usually meant CP rumors or scandals. Ren Zhou tapped “like” on the official fan account for picture of Mengke bowing, as the phone screen dimmed.

Unaware of the ripples she’d created…