Chapter 33

Take thirty-three bites.
Ying Tao stared at the words “See you tomorrow,” and her heart slammed wildly several times in a row.
No way.
It couldn’t be what she was thinking, could it?
She was shaken, unease crawling under her skin.
All the way until filming began, she still couldn’t shake the bad feeling.
“Don’t be nervous. Everyone’s like you—new. You might even have more experience than them.”
Super Star Sports Meet had no real heat.
So most of the guests were either forgotten eighteen-line nobodies, or talent-show idols so unknown they might as well not exist.
People with an actual professional athlete background like her were rare.
When Lu Ziyue led her in and saw how distracted she looked, he mistook it for first-time-on-set nerves and tried to comfort her.
Ying Tao lifted her head blankly. “I’m not nervous.”
Lu Ziyue paused. “As long as you’re not. Just treat it like you used to—as a formal competition. Prepare well.”
“Mm.”
Ying Tao nodded.
Since she’d decided to join, she would do her best.
That was the discipline a professional athlete should have.
She hadn’t arrived early, but the room was empty—no one else was there.
According to the production team, they were sorting guests into categories based on their individual traits.
After she filled in her info, she received a blue card.
But so far, none of the other blue-card people had shown up.
Sitting for too long got boring.
At first she just stood and walked around, looking here and there.
In the end, she simply let herself go.
She hadn’t trained in a long time.
Ever since retiring, she’d barely done any high-intensity exercise.
She’d heard there would be a basic fitness test later, to assess everyone’s physical condition.
Ying Tao rotated her joints and warmed up.
Then she lifted a leg high and set it on the bar, pressing down with a shocking arc.
Her arch stretched straight, her soft waistline half-revealed, a strip of pale pink-white skin showing.
“Tsk.”
A voice came from behind.
Ying Tao jolted.
She sprang up—and her calf cramped hard.
“Hiss—”
She sucked in a breath. The numb, swollen ache stabbed so badly her eyes watered.
“Don’t move.”
The man’s voice was steady.
He barely used force, bracing at the back of her knee and slowly, inch by inch, easing her leg down from the bar.
“It hurts—”
Her lashes were wet.
On her pale face, a look of near-crying spread; she bit down on her pink lower lip, the color paling.
She glared at the person who’d appeared out of nowhere and complained as if it were only natural:
“Why did you scare me?”
His expression was calm, like he was already used to her habit of blaming first.
He laughed. “Or were you just too focused to hear me knock?”
“…”
Had he knocked?
Ying Tao felt a little deflated, but she still shot him an annoyed look.
“That’s still your fault. Why were you standing behind me for no reason?”
“Don’t you know people can be scared to death?”
“Oh.” He lowered his eyes, half-smiling. “All I’ve heard is: if you don’t do anything guilty, you won’t fear ghosts knocking at midnight.”
“Little one, you’re so afraid of me—what guilty thing did you do? Hmm?”
“…”
Ying Tao looked away guiltily, changing the subject on the spot.
“What guilty thing could I have done? I’m upright and righteous. Not like you—”
“Not like me what?”
She didn’t notice how close they were.
His hand braced on the bar behind her waist, almost possessive, completely boxing her in.
His tone stayed casual as he looked down at her.
She’d just been moving; her cheeks were flushed pink.
Her lips looked moist and full, like a pearl hidden in a shell.
Sweat beaded at the tip of her nose.
When she looked up at him, her eyes were misty, like she’d been bullied hard.
Only then did Ying Tao realize:
His clean woody scent was right in her face.
His arm was almost touching her lower back.
At a distance like this, even her breathing turned hot and unsettled.
Her long curled lashes trembled.
She reached up to press against him, voice weak and breathy, with no strength.
“Don’t be this close to me. I… I don’t feel good.”
“Where don’t you feel good?”
She answered sullenly. “My waist.”
She’d moved too fast and twisted it a little.
She shot him a reproachful glance and complained softly,
“Isn’t it all because you messed with me?”
The moment the words landed, the already strange atmosphere turned even more ambiguous.
After a long silence, he let out a low, muffled laugh. His voice was husky.
“Mm. My fault.”
“I made your waist hurt.”
“Next time I’ll be more careful—go lighter.”
“…”
…
Ying Tao had every reason to suspect He Mingye was flirting with her.
But she had no proof.
He was always like this—just this kind of bastard.
Ying Tao’s snow-white cheeks were dusted with pink, her pretty, sweet features looking even softer, more alluring.
From far away she looked like a ripe white peach—pink, juicy, begging to be picked.
She didn’t know why He Mingye was here, but she did know his appearance would cause commotion.
And it did.
Guests trickled in one after another.
Ying Tao sat in a corner, breathing lightly, her mind still a mess.
He seemed to have come only to take a look.
He didn’t stay long before leaving.
Before he left, he pressed down on her calf, one hand controlling her ankle bone.
His hand was really big. Even covering her slender calf, there was still room.
The calluses from years of guitar playing made his fingertips rough.
His thumb and the web of his hand caught the soft flesh of her leg.
His fingers kneaded along both sides of her calf, slowly, inch by inch, working the knot loose.
Ying Tao pressed her lips together, restless, unable to sit still.
It felt like his hand wasn’t a hand at all, but something addictive.
When he hit the sore, swollen muscle, she couldn’t stop a soft sound from slipping out.
“So sore…”
Her eyes watered. “So swollen—be gentler. It hurts.”
He gave a hoarse, low laugh. “Spoiled.”
If her leg hadn’t still been in his grip, she would’ve fought him on the spot.
He was the one who’d appeared like a ghost and startled her, causing the cramp and the twisted waist.
Now he massaged her twice and called her spoiled?
Bastard.
He Mingye was an annoying jerk.
“Hi—”
A timid voice came from beside her.
Ying Tao snapped back.
Her lashes were still wet, like she’d just been thoroughly teased.
She sniffed, and her voice came out oddly soft. “Hi.”
The girl spoke quietly. “Um… can I team up with you?”
“Team up?” Ying Tao didn’t understand.
Wasn’t this an individual competition?
The girl nodded. “Yeah. You didn’t know? The format changed this season.”
“Besides individual events, there’s a new team-versus-team segment.”
“It looks like everyone has people they know. I… I don’t really have friends, so…”
Her brows drooped in disappointment.
Just as she said, most of the guests in the room knew each other—and were familiar.
The entertainment circle wasn’t that big. It was hard not to know people.
Familiar people naturally clustered together.
Latecomers found it hard to get in.
And the rules for the new team event still hadn’t been explained.
The production team hadn’t mentioned it at all.
It was probably to see how far they could take things on their own.
The girl said, “The more people a team has, the more advantageous it seems.”
“More events you can cover, more points you can earn.”
“The show doesn’t seem to limit team size.”
“If that’s the case… I might end up alone.”
It was survival of the fittest.
The ones excluded were either strong enough not to need teammates—
Or the leftovers, the discarded.
Ying Tao wasn’t that interested in teaming up, but since she was here, she wouldn’t surrender easily.
She nodded. “Sure.”
She didn’t have anyone she knew either.
If it came down to it, she might be the leftover too.
“That’s great!” The girl smiled. “My name is Sun Shengnan. What’s yours?”
“Ying Tao.”
“Then I’ll follow you. Please help me more.”
“…Mm.”
The room buzzed with conversation.
Soon, staff notified them it was time to go to the second floor.
At first they thought they were going up for fitness tests.
They hadn’t expected it was to eat.
Sun Shengnan stuck close to Ying Tao.
Ying Tao wasn’t used to being clung to like that. “You don’t have to stay this close. I’m not going to run.”
Sun Shengnan looked anxious. “Am I annoying you? I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not good at talking to people, I…”
Ying Tao sighed. “Forget it. Let’s eat first.”
“Thank you. You’re really nice,” Sun Shengnan said with a smile.
“Actually… I didn’t come from a good background. My family is poor.”
“They didn’t have money to send me to school. They even wanted to sell me to trade for bride price.”
“Luckily there was a kind person who sponsored my schooling.”
Hearing that her family was bad—parents who suppressed her, even almost sold her—
Ying Tao couldn’t help feeling sympathy.
“It’s okay,” Ying Tao said softly. “You’re already out of it now. In the future you’ll definitely live the life you want.”
Sun Shengnan nodded. “I believe I will.”
Knowing her timid personality came from her childhood environment, Ying Tao grew more tolerant of her.
After they finished eating, about two hours passed before the production team gave new instructions.
This time, the instructions came in the form of a VCR.
The production team said:
“Each of you received a different-colored wrist card when you entered.”
“The color of your card represents your current team.”
“Next, each team will use their card color to find their teammates.”
“Follow the mission prompts to reach an abandoned building and search for required items.”
“Note: wrist cards can be exchanged or destroyed. You may eliminate teammates at any time.”
“Note: the winning team may have only five contestants.”
“Teammate or opponent. Coexist or survive alone—”
“it all depends on a single thought.”
“During the game, there will be mysterious guest support.”
…
What was with this season?
A complete makeover, playing this big?
Ying Tao’s wrist card was blue, but from what she could see, there were a lot of blue cards.
Far more than five.
Meaning their team was doomed to split.
Sun Shengnan tugged on her sleeve, clearly nervous.
Ying Tao didn’t feel steady either.
She hadn’t expected the show to come in with this kind of format from the start.
And…
Night was coming.
On the way to the abandoned building, everyone was unusually silent.
Only after they entered did they realize how ruthless the production team was.
No hints at all.
They had to feel their way through everything themselves.
The building really did look like it had been abandoned for a long time.
The light was dim.
Finding targets would be even harder.
Sun Shengnan was even more timid than Ying Tao.
She followed step by step, swallowing hard as she stared into the blackness.
“This place… won’t be haunted, right?”
Ying Tao said, “There are so many people here. Even if there were ghosts, they’d be scared off.”
She said that, but inside she was still uneasy.
The lighting was terrible, and she couldn’t see clearly.
In a building that big, the crowd scattered in an instant.
While searching for clues, Ying Tao hadn’t expected to lose Sun Shengnan.
The sky grew darker and darker.
The hallway lights were dim, too. She could hardly make anything out.
She felt her way forward—half-blind.
Now, any sound of footsteps made her jumpy.
By now, someone had probably already found “helpers.”
And even if someone wore the same color card, it was hard to tell friend from foe.
After all, in the end only five people could win.
She moved toward a slightly brighter area.
Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her.
She whirled. “Who?”
The corridor was empty.
The hallway was quiet—there wasn’t even a shadow.
Ying Tao swallowed. She forced down her fear, but her back prickled with numbness and a chill crawled up her spine.
Her steps turned panicked.
She sped up.
But the footsteps behind her followed like a shadow.
Just as they were about to catch up, a force yanked her aside.
“Mm—”
A cramped, sealed space.
Bodies pressed close, almost fully flush.
Her mouth was covered. No sound could come out.
In an instant, her scalp went icy cold.
She struggled violently, twisting hard, trying to break free.
“Be quiet.”
The man’s grip was like iron walls.
One hand covered her mouth.
The other clamped her narrow waist.
His long leg braced in close.
His voice dropped low and rough, inexplicably hoarse.
“Don’t rub.”