Li Xunwen was stunned.
He couldn’t figure out what Gu Zhaoping was trying to do.
She even wanted him to press his handprint—was she afraid he might run away?
Li Xunwen gave her a look and asked,
“What are you planning to do with my handprint?”
Gu Zhaoping smiled lightly,
“Don’t be nervous. If we’re going to make a bet, we need a proper agreement. A biological fingerprint makes it more identifiable. Of course, if you’re uncomfortable with it, we can draft another version.”
Li Xunwen’s expression turned speechless.
Making bets on a variety show and even needing to sign a contract?
Was Gu Zhaoping just too idle?
But the way she looked at him made it impossible for him to back down.
If he refused to sign, it would seem like he lacked confidence.
So Li Xunwen simply said,
“Fine, let’s sign it.”
Assistant Xiao Zhao immediately got to work.
She had a portable printer in the car, and just by modifying a template, she could print it out on the spot.
“Boss, Mr. Li, please.”
The agreement was thrust into Li Xunwen’s hands so quickly it left him dazed.
After carefully reading it and seeing no issues, he uncapped the pen and signed his name.
Still a bit wary, he kept a watchful eye on Gu Zhaoping and Xiao Zhao.
He had a feeling they were scheming something, but after thinking it over, he couldn’t spot any flaws.
“Two copies. If either party fails to fulfill their obligations, they will bear legal responsibility.”
Gu Zhaoping neatly signed her name.
Only then did Li Xunwen take a glance.
Huh.
He paused.
Gu Zhaoping’s handwriting…it was surprisingly nice?
That was already his evaluation after filtering it through some prejudice.
Honestly, her handwriting was very beautiful—eye-catching and clearly well-practiced, and not at a low level either.
Li Xunwen felt a bit awkward.
It was hard for him to accept discovering something admirable about Gu Zhaoping.
He averted his gaze.
Initially, after losing in the first episode’s business challenge, Li Xunxi had been furious and embarrassed.
But with Gu Zhaoye taking the blame up front, it became an internal matter between the siblings.
Now with Li Xunwen taking the stage for a bet in the next round, Li Xunxi was suddenly cheerful again.
This was different from doing business.
In the talent segment, success or failure was more straightforward—either you had the skill or you didn’t. It was based on real ability.
She knew her younger brother Li Xunwen had a gift for chess.
He had been praised by teachers since he was young.
His mentor was a chess federation master, surnamed Qi.
Their family had close ties with Master Qi, who frequently complimented Li Xunwen’s talent.
If he devoted more time and effort to tournaments and building up points, he might even be able to attain a rank comparable to professional players.
Even though Gu Zhaoping had merely introduced herself and hadn’t done anything to offend them, they just couldn’t stand her arrogance.
You’re not omnipotent, not some flawless being—what gives you the right to act so cocky?
You haven’t mastered everything—what gives you the right to be so calm, confident, and proud?
So another bet was made between Gu Zhaoping and the Li siblings.
Gu Zhaoping stood up.
Xiao Zhao packed the agreement into her briefcase and followed her with practiced precision.
Gu Zhaoping raised a hand slightly and said,
“Then I’ll see you next time. Looking forward to your match.”
Li Xunwen was sulking and had no intention of coordinating with Gu Zhaoping.
He looked away directly.
He had wanted to say something more—maybe throw in some tough talk—but the moment he recalled Gu Zhaoping’s calm and collected demeanor during the bidding earlier, all his desire to speak vanished.
Li Xunwen didn’t know why.
He just pursed his lips and swallowed his words, then turned and left.
The siblings walked away looking a little deflated, skipping their usual dramatic parting shots.
They looked almost like they were fleeing in embarrassment.
Once the group had left, Liang Zhiwei finally let out a huge sigh of relief.
Then she looked worried again,
“Sister Zhaoping, I’m not very good at this…I’m afraid I’ll drag you down!”
“It’s fine. There’s still the second round.”
Gu Zhaoping didn’t care much about winning or losing the first round.
One way or another, their team wouldn’t come out on the losing end.
“Just relax and enjoy it.”
It was the first time someone had publicly claimed they would handicap her, and Gu Zhaoping actually found it a bit amusing.
She thought there was quite a bit of entertainment to be found in those siblings.
The two paused, watching Gu Zhaoping walk away just like that.
For Gu Zhaoping, attending the show was just completing a task.
Once everything was wrapped up smoothly, she left without the slightest hesitation.
It was as if none of the results or troubles she faced today mattered to her at all.
They were just minor obstacles along the way—easy to kick aside and resolve.
Nothing worth dwelling on.
Chu Yanze stared at her retreating figure for a long time.
Then suddenly turned his head and looked over at Group 3.
As expected, he met another gaze.
Su Yubai had locked eyes with him again.
This time, Su Yubai simply lowered his gaze without continuing to watch Gu Zhaoping leave.
Chu Yanze found him strange.
That look was so lingering and intimate—it didn’t feel like how a stranger would look.
Could it be that he really knew Sister Zhaoping?
“Su Yubai, our group is having dinner tonight. Are you coming?” a teammate called to him.
Su Yubai snapped back to reality and turned to decline softly,
“Sorry, I have something to take care of. I can’t make it.”
The team member was a bit disappointed.
Everyone had a good impression of Su Yubai—mild-tempered, quietly efficient, popular yet never arrogant, and did more work than anyone else.
How could someone like that not be well liked?
But ever since filming wrapped, Su Yubai seemed more like a loner—aloof, and never really close with anyone.
“Alright then. Will you be okay adapting to the next episode?”
Maybe because Su Yubai had played too many frail, doomed, white-moonlight characters, his teammates looked at him with concern, as if his health might really be poor.
Su Yubai chuckled. It was a common misunderstanding.
“It’s fine. I’ve done this before…”
A figure flashed through his mind, and the smile on his lips gradually faded.
No one would be standing beside him anymore.
“I’m not particularly skilled either,”
Su Yubai said.
“But I’ll do my best. Don’t worry about me.”
As he was about to leave, he spotted someone near his van—also preparing to get in.
He wasn’t planning to pay much attention, but the other person paused and looked up.
Su Yubai raised his eyes—it was Chu Yanze.
Since they had made eye contact, a greeting was inevitable.
Su Yubai gave a polite nod,
“Hello, Teacher Chu.”
Chu Yanze paused, then raised a hand across the narrow passage and adjusted his baseball cap.
“I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Just as Su Yubai was about to respond politely, he heard: “I really liked that early-death white moonlight character you played.”
Su Yubai: …
That character was like that, but did he have to say it like that?
It sounded kind of harsh.
“I love watching films. Oh right, are you a friend of Sister Zhaoping too?”
Chu Yanze casually brought it up, trying to make it sound like idle small talk, then casually changed the subject like it meant nothing.
Kid, your motive’s a bit too obvious.
Su Yubai held his breath in silence.
After thinking for a moment, he still felt that before knowing Gu Zhaoping’s attitude, he shouldn’t say too much behind her back.
He said,
“We’ve met a few times.”
Just a few encounters?
Chu Yanze’s gaze held a hint of doubt, but when he recalled that Sister Zhaoping didn’t seem to have any particular reaction to Su Yubai, he figured that at most they had just met a few times and she didn’t remember him very well.
“Oh, I saw that you were trying to talk to Sister Zhaoping all day today, so I thought you two were quite familiar.”
Chu Yanze’s expression was polite, but what he said was rather unpleasant.
Su Yubai’s mouth twitched —
Sister Zhaoping really did attract these hot-blooded young men.
“We’re not that familiar. Seems like you’re closer to her,”
Su Yubai said with a smile.
“Do you know when Sister Zhaoping’s birthday is? I haven’t seen her in a long time, and I’d like to find a chance to give her a gift to thank her.”
Chu Yanze was stunned.
He realized he actually didn’t know.
He had never asked — it didn’t feel appropriate.
Besides, they weren’t that close yet.
But Su Yubai just said they seemed more familiar?
If he didn’t know the birthday, wouldn’t that be kind of awkward?
Chu Yanze paused for a moment, then said,
“Why don’t you give me your contact info? I’ll let you know when her birthday’s coming up.”
He skillfully deflected the question.
Su Yubai didn’t push further — he simply smiled, took out his phone, scanned Chu Yanze’s QR code, and sent a friend request.
Once he got in the car, Chu Yanze didn’t even glance at his phone — he tossed it aside.
He had no intention of accepting the request.
But then—wait.
Chu Yanze suddenly remembered something.
Send her a gift to thank her?
Thank her for what?
You barely know her — what are you thanking her for?
What did Sister Zhaoping do for you?
Su Yubai also stared at his phone, but he didn’t care whether the request was accepted or not.
He looked at the pinned contact at the top of his address book.
“A-Zhaoping-jie.”
(“A” being a trick to keep the contact at the top.)
Even though her surname began with “Z,” he had never let Gu Zhaoping sit at the bottom of his list.
He opened the chat — there were no messages at all.
It had been so many years, and he had changed phones several times.
No matter how carefully he tried to preserve certain things, some were simply lost.
He hadn’t dared look at her Moments
(WeChat feed).
It was like the feeling of homesickness before returning to a familiar place — afraid she’d deleted him, but more afraid of seeing things he didn’t dare to see in the small window into her life.
He remembered that Sister Zhaoping had a fiancé.
All these years…maybe she had already married under her family’s arrangement?
Of course, it wouldn’t matter if she had married.
He didn’t need a title to stay by her side.
What he feared was that if she had a new life and fully devoted herself to it, she wouldn’t spare even a glance for him.
From the look of things now, whether she was married or not, she didn’t seem to remember him much anyway — so Su Yubai laughed softly.
This hidden thought, after all these years, seemed to finally break through its cocoon.
For the first time, he tapped into her Moments.
Then he froze.
It was completely clean.
No posts of young male models or wild nights out, no debauchery or extravagance.
Just one simple post:
“Hiring a Jiu-Jitsu personal trainer and a nutritionist. Contact me if suitable.”
That’s it.
Was this her life now?
Sister Zhaoping, all those wild, glamorous days in the past — were they just a disguise too?
Su Yubai stared blankly for a while, then exited her Moments.
He opened his photo album and found a picture tucked deep in a folder.
On the other side of the world, at a ski resort.
Behind them were snowy fields and bare branches.
He was wearing a yellow ski suit.
Gu Zhaoping wore a bright pink one, making a peace sign with a big grin, her white, even teeth showing.
He had been unsteady on his feet, clumsily grabbing the hand she raised.
His snow goggles were pushed up, and snow clung to his eyelashes.
He looked at her, a little awkward and disheveled.
A passerby had taken that photo for them, saying they looked “cute.”
Gu Zhaoping had chatted fluently with the person.
He had been mostly silent, just gripping her arm a little tighter.
Another photo was taken in a café.
Gu Zhaoping sat across from him, reading and writing.
He had moved their drinks and desserts to the side, pretending to take a picture of the food, but the frame had quietly included her elbow and hand holding the pen.
Her handwriting was beautiful — perhaps only he knew that.
There weren’t many photos of them together.
These two were probably the strongest proof of their past.
He had always wanted to use one as his lock screen, but never dared.
Everything he knew — she had taught him by hand.
Su Yubai had once tried asking about her birthday.
But back then, she had said: “No need. I’ve been trying to downplay that day.”
He worried that he had said something wrong — maybe her birthday had some painful memory?
Gu Zhaoping then explained: “I don’t want to let an arbitrary birthday define the milestones of my life. I don’t want to divide my stages by age either.”
She paused and added: “If one day I achieve the success I designed for myself, maybe I’ll take that day as my birthday.”
So Su Yubai understood.
But later, he still quietly asked: “Then…can I at least ask if you’re older or younger than me?”
Gu Zhaoping laughed, tapped him twice on the forehead: “Do I look younger than you?”
Her hand was cold.
The touch was vivid.
Su Yubai lowered his head, his face slightly red, and whispered: “Jiejie…”
(“Big sister” — a term of endearment)
Su Yubai turned off the screen.
He really wanted to see how Chu Yanze planned to find out now.
People might think he’s doing great now — but the days when he was eighteen or nineteen, by her side, were his real highlight.
Jiejie.
Su Yubai silently repeated the word.
I hope that now you’re back home, everything goes well for you.
That you can soon reach your own ‘birthday’.
***
Gu Zhaoping returned to the old house and saw it wasn’t too late, so she laid out paper to practice her calligraphy.
Practicing caligraphy helped calm her mind.
Though it involved some thought — about structure and brush technique — it was a simple kind of thinking, from which she found peace.
After she finished, she went to take a bath.
While grabbing clothes from the wardrobe, something small fell out with a clatter.
She picked it up.
It was a pair of snow goggles, clearly well-used.
The original owner must’ve really liked them.
She examined them.
The back had her initials etched on them.
She used to like skiing?