Chapter 41
Jiang Lan asked the production team for two pretty boxes to pack the cakes. Even if the cakes didn’t look great, as long as Lu Yicheng didn’t open them, they would still count as both beautiful and delicious.
The two had plans to go out for skewers that evening, and it was already past four in the afternoon. Yu Wanqiu wanted to pack all the cakes—she couldn’t bring herself to dislike her own creations, and since she couldn’t bear to throw them away, giving them to Lu Yicheng was perfect. After all, they were practically family.
Jiang Lan had an interview at Chen Ninglei’s studio the next day. If the skewers turned out to be good, she could go back with Yu Wanqiu for another round after the interview.
A little after five, Jiang Lan packed her things, grabbed the cakes and an umbrella, and headed out. The rain poured down in a refreshing, liberating chill—perfect weather for sleeping in or indulging in hot, spicy foods like skewers or hot pot, especially with a sesame dipping sauce. She couldn’t help but look forward to seeing just how good the skewer place Lu Yicheng had mentioned really was.
This time, she didn’t bring any camera crew along—just her and Lu Yicheng. Jiang Lan rarely had the crew follow her on personal outings, and the production team didn’t want to intrude on the couple’s limited alone time. After all, this wasn’t a dating show, and they only had so many moments to themselves each week.
Still, Zhang Tian reminded her to be careful—since Jiang Lan and Lu Yicheng were public figures, they needed to watch out for paparazzi.
Lu Yicheng was waiting at the entrance of the villa area, holding a black umbrella beside a white car. His eyes lit up when he saw Jiang Lan. “Are you cold? If it weren’t raining, we could’ve gone somewhere fun today.”
Jiang Lan shook her head. After a brief hesitation, she handed him the cake box.
Lu Yicheng: “This is for me?!”
Jiang Lan coughed lightly. “Yeah, Yu Wanqiu and I made it ourselves. If you can’t finish it, take the rest home for your dad.”
Lu Yicheng: “You made this? There’s no way I wouldn’t finish such a small amount…”
Truthfully, there were still two pieces left in the fridge—Jiang Lan had planned to eat them for breakfast the next morning. But if Lu Yicheng loved them that much, maybe she should go back and grab them? “Yu Wanqiu did most of the work. If you want more, I can go back and—”
No need. That would take another ten minutes.
Lu Yicheng wanted to open the box right then and there—he had a soft spot for handmade things. But just as he was about to lift the lid, Jiang Lan grabbed his hand and tugged him along. “Come on, let’s go. I’m starving.”
Fine, fine—no need to act so cute about it…
Lu Yicheng gave up on inspecting the cake and instead tightened his grip on Jiang Lan’s hand. “That skewer place is amazing. We’ve been there before. The rain makes it the perfect weather for it—not too hot. Let’s go.”
He opened the car door. “I just got a thirty-thousand-yuan bonus, so we can eat out as much as we want. After this, we can go play claw machines. If you’re not in a hurry to go back, we can even catch a movie.”
Several films had been released over the summer, and Lu Yicheng had heard great things about The Storyteller, which had even been nominated for Best Picture at the Golden Bear Awards.
Jiang Lan nodded. “Why not watch The Deep Sea instead? That one’s really good.”
Lu Yicheng chuckled. “We’re out on a date, and you want to watch my mom’s movie? Don’t you see enough of her already? I’d just keep thinking of her the whole time.”
Yu Wanqiu’s personality was nothing like her character in the film, and lately, Lu Yicheng couldn’t escape her constant messages.
Still, Jiang Lan wanted to support The Deep Sea at the box office. Yu Wanqiu’s role was captivating, and even setting her aside, the movie was worth a second watch.
Lu Yicheng: “Nope, not happening. You’re on a date with me—stop bringing up my mom. Every time you mention her, I’m gonna kiss you.”
Talk about ungrateful—those cakes were baked by Yu Wanqiu, too.
The rain fell heavily as Lu Yicheng kept the windshield wipers moving. Every car on the road had its headlights on, glowing beautifully through the downpour.
Jiang Lan glanced at Lu Yicheng. He drove with such focus—there was something undeniably attractive about a man who took things seriously. “Hey, Yu Wanqiu helped me land a job interview tomorrow. If it goes well, I’ll treat you to a fancy meal once I get my first paycheck.”
“Deal. There’s another place we used to go to a lot—it’s really good too.”
Back in their college days, Jiang Lan had always been the one to find hidden gems—small, affordable eateries with amazing flavors. With only two thousand yuan a month for living expenses in a city as expensive as B, budgeting for dates had been a necessity.
She had a knack for discovering cheap but delicious food and fun, budget-friendly spots.
Lu Yicheng hadn’t needed to worry about money—he had plenty—and he’d even considered spending more, since dating naturally came with expenses. But Jiang Lan had been adamant. Besides, early on, she’d been under the impression that he was broke.
They’d known each other since high school, and Lu Yicheng had never tried any of the snacks Jiang Lan loved. He never drank soda either, coming off like some country bumpkin. Jiang Lan had taken to sneaking him treats, calling it “tutoring fees.”
And since his clothes were all high-end custom pieces without visible logos, Jiang Lan had assumed they were just cheap finds from Taobao.
For her birthday, Lu Yicheng had given her his first gift—a carefully selected set of five high-end lipsticks, each a popular shade, worth over two thousand yuan in total.
When it came to gifts for his girlfriend, he wanted only the best.
But Jiang Lan had been convinced he’d starved himself for a month to afford it. Since the set couldn’t be returned after opening, she’d refused to accept any more gifts from him for a long time after that.
And for a while, every time they ate out, she’d insisted on paying.
“How can you be so bad with money? One lipstick would’ve been enough—I only have one mouth! Who spends like this?”
“You’re gonna starve to death.”
“And this Barbie pink? What’s so great about this color?”
“I give up.”
That was the first time Lu Yicheng had seriously thought about marrying Jiang Lan. If he couldn’t manage money, she could just handle the finances.
They’d only been dating for two months at the time.
They arrived at the skewer place.
The streets were soaked, but despite the rain, the restaurant was packed. The air was thick with the mingling scents of spices, chili, and rain, the lively chatter creating a warm, bustling atmosphere. This was exactly the kind of place Jiang Lan loved.
Lu Yicheng looked at her expectantly. “Bring the cake in too.” He wanted to try it right away.
Jiang Lan quickly shut the car door and pulled him toward the restaurant. “You can have it later at home. I already ate a bunch. Let’s just focus on the skewers.”
“Yu Wanqiu and I made it, so even if it’s not great, you’re not allowed to say it’s bad.”
“As if I would.”
The skewers were indeed fantastic—150 yuan per person, tucked away in an obscure location. Jiang Lan decided that no matter how her interview went the next day, she’d bring Yu Wanqiu here.
The following morning, Jiang Lan headed to Chen Ninglei’s studio for her interview.
The studio was located in the Twin Towers at the heart of B City, occupying floors 25 through 27 of the hundred-plus-story skyscraper. Alongside recording studios and instrument rooms, it had break areas, a gym, and an overall excellent work environment. Floors 28 through 83 belonged to Tianyu Film and Television Culture Company, one of the entertainment industry’s “Big Three.” Liang Yun and Shen Xingyao were both signed under Tianyu, though Yu Wanqiu operated her own independent studio.
Plenty of celebrities frequented Ninglei’s studio to record songs, making star sightings an almost daily occurrence.
Every year, the studio recruits fresh graduates from various music academies. The requirements for working here are quite high. If it weren’t for the violinist taking leave, they wouldn’t have hired a part-timer at all. Chen Ninglei only agreed because of Yu Wanqiu’s influence—and, admittedly, because Jiang Lan’s violin skills were genuinely impressive.
In Mother-in-Law Is Coming, there was a scene where Jiang Lan played the violin. Chen Ninglei thought it was decent, but he still needed to conduct an interview before making a final decision.
Jiang Lan was proficient in many instruments. She had over twenty years of experience with the piano, cello, and violin, and could also play a bit of the saxophone, trumpet, guzheng, and xiao.
The interview was scheduled for 10 a.m., and Yu Wanqiu accompanied her.
Now she finally understood why Du Wanzhou always followed Shen Xingyao everywhere—there really was a sense of worry involved. Jiang Lan wasn’t exactly young anymore, but Yu Wanqiu felt even more nervous than when she herself went for auditions. Even if Jiang Lan didn’t get the job, it wouldn’t be a big deal—she hadn’t graduated yet. But having work meant earning money, and who would say no to that?
Yu Wanqiu loved money herself. She just wanted Jiang Lan to make plenty of it, so she could wear beautiful dresses and enjoy delicious food every day.
"You’re not the only one being interviewed today," Yu Wanqiu said. "But in terms of connections, you’re already ahead of everyone else."
Jiang Lan grinned. "Got it, got it! If I don’t get picked, it’s because I’m not good enough. I’ll do my best! After this, let’s go for hot pot skewers—they’re seriously amazing!"
Yu Wanqiu scoffed. "If you fail, I’ll have to treat you, won’t I? And then comfort you on top of that."
Jiang Lan pumped herself up, slung her violin case over her shoulder, and stepped out of the car. "No need for comfort, Teacher Yu. Just wait and see—I won’t embarrass you."
Three other girls were also waiting for the interview, all carrying their instruments. Jiang Lan didn’t know them, but they certainly recognized her.
The moment they saw her, their hopes deflated. If Yu Wanqiu’s future daughter-in-law was here, what chance did they have?
The result was exactly as they expected. Chen Ninglei only needed one person, and that person was Jiang Lan.
Even though they had braced themselves for this outcome, it still stung. Just because she had a well-connected mother-in-law, she could waltz into Chen Ninglei’s studio for a part-time gig? If that was the case, why didn’t she just enter the entertainment industry? With Yu Wanqiu’s backing, she could pick any role she wanted.
Why did she have to come here and take opportunities away from them?
"Teacher Chen, if you already had someone in mind, why bother calling us in?" The speaker was a girl in a white dress with long, flowing hair.
Young musicians often carried an air of pride, and she was no exception.
Chen Ninglei stroked his chin. "You think I chose her because of Yu Wanqiu? Little girl, this is a part-time gig, not a campus recruitment. Weren’t you also recommended by someone? Feeling bitter because your connections aren’t as strong as hers? Hmph. Jiang Lan, play something for them."
Jiang Lan nodded. To look the part, she had worn a dress today—the same yellow one she had worn on her first day at the show. Her fair complexion and the poise she had developed from nearly a month of yoga practice added to her elegance. Of course, the interview wasn’t a beauty contest; they weren’t picking based on looks.
When it came to the violin, Jiang Lan was second to none.
Her playing had a unique quality to it.
Most people might not notice, but fellow violinists could easily tell the difference. Jiang Lan’s music was richer, more emotive—exactly the kind of touch that could elevate a film or TV soundtrack. If recorded and uploaded to Bilibili, the comments would undoubtedly be flooded with praises like, "Listening to this feels like hearing celestial music—my ears are blessed!"
That was the gap between her and the others.
Chen Ninglei couldn’t wrap his head around it. The studio’s violinist was only taking a few weeks off, so he had asked around for a part-time replacement. How did someone end up blaming their failure on connections rather than skill?
Jiang Lan played just a short segment before setting her bow down.
Chen Ninglei added, "And don’t go home and start ranting online about ‘unfair advantages.’ Everything’s recorded here."
Even part-time hires had to sign contracts. After the three girls left, Chen Ninglei handed Jiang Lan hers. "Five hundred a day. Once your work is done, you can leave. No tardiness—first shift starts tomorrow, Monday. Be here early."
He studied her for a moment. He had a soft spot for talent. "You… might want to consider sticking with this line of work. You’ve got one year left before graduation, right? No surprise—you’re from Tsinghua, after all."
Jiang Lan thanked him and dashed out of the building. She pinched her cheeks, forcing a dejected expression, and the moment she got into the car, she sighed dramatically. "Teacher Yu…"
Yu Wanqiu already had a hunch. "It’s fine! Even if you don’t get the job, it’s not like we’re short on money. Just treat it as a fun experience."
Jiang Lan hung her head. "Sigh."
"Come on, it’s not the end of the world. Didn’t you want those skewers? I’ll take you." Yu Wanqiu genuinely didn’t think it was a big deal. There would be other opportunities.
Jiang Lan pouted. "But Shen Xingyao and Zhang Tian both nailed their auditions. Doesn’t that make me useless?"
"Their situation is different," Yu Wanqiu said. She wasn’t great at comforting people, but in her eyes, this wasn’t worth stressing over. Jiang Lan hadn’t even graduated yet—there was no rush to earn money.
Jiang Lan couldn’t hold it in any longer. "Pfft—hahaha! Teacher Yu, do I have potential for the entertainment industry? I got it! With you backing me, how could I not be chosen?"
Yu Wanqiu stared at her in silence for a long moment. "...You’re ridiculous. How much is the pay?"
"Five hundred a day."
Yu Wanqiu rolled her eyes. "Then we’re going to the most expensive restaurant in the city. Ugh, wasting my emotions like that."
Jiang Lan giggled as she texted Lu Yicheng. "I was just teasing you! Lighten up a little. But seriously, it was nerve-wracking!"
Yu Wanqiu leaned in curiously.
Jiang Lan cleared her throat. "There were three other girls besides me. At first, we didn’t even meet Teacher Chen—just some stern guy who told us to go in one by one. I was second. Inside, there were several people listening. After we finished playing, Teacher Chen had us wait outside. Once all four were done, he announced the results. Then one of the girls accused me of being a pre-selected candidate."
Yu Wanqiu snorted. "If you were pre-selected, why bother with interviews? What happened next?"
"Teacher Chen made me play for them. Obviously, they couldn’t say anything after that."
"Not bad. Let’s go for those skewers. And don’t forget—we’ve got a two-hour livestream later."
They had postponed their livestream to the weekend again. Jiang Lan made a mental note to start earlier next time. "Teacher Yu, what are we streaming today?"
Yu Wanqiu smirked. "Ranking up to King tier. The season’s almost over, and I’m still not there! Xia Jing asked if I wanted to queue with her tonight. Zheng Rong’s team just finished their matches. And don’t invite Lu Yicheng—he’s terrible."
Yu Wanqiu was currently at Star III. She didn’t play much on her own, usually duo-queuing with Jiang Lan for a few rounds at night. She had spent a fortune on the game, already at VIP8. The only thing missing was the King tier badge—she had everything else.
She was self-aware enough to know that her rank was mostly thanks to Jiang Lan’s skills. Left to her own devices, she’d probably end up feeding.
The skewer stall in the small alley was so good that Jiang Lan could eat there twice in a row—once for lunch and again for dinner. At noon, the place wasn’t as crowded as in the evening, so the two of them found a quiet corner. The tables were small wooden ones, with long benches on either side. In the middle sat a large copper pot, and the dipping sauces were self-serve. The skewers were kept in a nearby freezer, priced at just seven cents per stick.
Yu Wanqiu thought it was incredibly cheap—only a few cents per skewer. As she stared at the freezer packed with all kinds of options, she hadn’t even processed the choices before Jiang Lan had already mixed the dipping sauces for her. "This is the best way to eat it—one sesame sauce and one oil-based dip. I didn’t add too much chili."
Yu Wanqiu nodded. "It smells amazing. This little place is really popular."
"I wouldn’t bring you here if it wasn’t especially delicious. It’s always packed," Jiang Lan said.
Their drama Mother-in-Law Is Coming was a hit, and it seemed like some people had recognized them. But no one took photos—just a few friendly waves.
The broth only came in a spicy version, but it wasn’t the numbing kind—just fragrant and hot. The aroma alone was mouthwatering. Once the pot started boiling, they could start dipping the skewers. Each stick was cheap, but the meat on them was small, so it cooked in just a few seconds.
There were options like five-spice beef, spicy beef, pickled pepper beef, various chicken and pork cuts, braised pork intestines, braised chicken feet, and even pigeon eggs. The taste was completely different from hotpot.
The meat was tender, the spice blending perfectly with the sesame sauce—an explosion of flavor. Each skewer was just one bite. The braised chicken feet, pigeon eggs, and pork trotters were soft and sticky, the collagen-rich texture clinging to their teeth.
"This is so good!" Yu Wanqiu exclaimed. "Jiang Lan, this is even better than the hotpot we made at home. You can try so many different things here!"
She lowered her voice. "I’ve never had this before. There are so many things I haven’t tried… Do you think I’m a bit… uncool?"
Jiang Lan laughed. "How could you be uncool? You’re a goddess! Why would you even question that? Yu-laoshi, you’ll never be uncool. You’re literally the trendsetter for a whole generation."
"Do you even know how many people idolize you? How could you possibly be uncool? If anyone’s uncool, it’s me."
"You’re not uncool either. Haha, the only uncool one here is Lu Yicheng." Yu Wanqiu finished her braised pork trotter. "Jiang Lan, I want another one. No, two more."
Jiang Lan went to grab more trotters and also brought back two bowls of osmanthus jelly with brown sugar syrup. "This is delicious too."
Yu Wanqiu sighed. "These little hole-in-the-wall places are such hidden gems. We’re definitely coming back."
"Next time, we’ll find an even better place," Jiang Lan said. "Once I get my paycheck, we’ll go out and celebrate!"
Yu Wanqiu nodded. Normally, she’d stop eating at seven-tenths full, but today she’d stuffed herself until she was hiccuping. After finishing the skewers, she polished off the osmanthus jelly too. There was absolutely no room left in her stomach.
She sprawled lazily in the car, drowsy from the motion as they drove.
Jiang Lan nudged her. "Don’t fall asleep! We still have the livestream later, and yoga in the afternoon. Yu-laoshi, wake up!"
But Yu Wanqiu was already out.
Despite their efforts to stay low-key, someone had snapped a photo of them—though thankfully, it was just their backs as they left. The image made its way to Weibo and even trended.
[Spotted Yu Wanqiu and Jiang Lan at a skewer stall. Guess the food was too good to resist! [photo]]
[Which stall? Wait—where did you see them?]
[In the small alley near Zhuque Street. It’s seriously delicious—I’ve been there too. By extension, I’ve basically had lunch with my wives.]
[Didn’t expect them to eat at a place like this. I thought they only went to fancy restaurants.]
[Is it really that good?]
[The way they’re walking—looks like they’re holding each other up on the way out.]
[What kind of place makes you eat until you’re that full??]
[Livestream, livestream! Don’t forget they owe us two hours!]
[Don’t remind them. Let them suffer the consequences tonight.]
[What are they streaming today?]
[Hurry up and start the stream!]
[Will Lu Yicheng make an appearance?]
[Are they ranking up? Zheng Rong and the others are done with their matches.]
Around 4 p.m., Yu Wanqiu posted on Weibo: See you in the livestream at 8 p.m. She tagged Zheng Rong, Sa Sa, and Qing Ying.
Fans counted the names multiple times—still only three. So, Lu Yicheng definitely wasn’t joining.
At 7:55 p.m., fans were already waiting in the livestream. The moment the clock struck eight, the two appeared.
Last week’s stream had been split over two days, making each session feel too short—like nothing even happened before it ended.
[Hope they stream until midnight this time.]
[I hereby declare your wish granted. Let them stream for ten hours.]
[No Lu Yicheng, huh? Is it because he’s bad at the game?]
[That’s the wrong question. Would you rather play with pro players or your noob boyfriend?]
[One Lu Yicheng equals three pro players in terms of… frustration. But the joy of gaming with your boyfriend is unimaginable. So, I pick the pros.]
Jiang Lan tested the mic. "Yu-laoshi is at Star III now. Hopefully, we can hit King today."
[Was the skewer stall good at noon?]
[Did you two really eat that much? I can see the food babies.]
"It was just a photo of our backs. How could you possibly see food babies? Stop making things up." Jiang Lan invited Zheng Rong and the others into the team. "Pros, carry us."
Zheng Rong: "No, no, we’re all pretty good."
Soon, it was time for the ban/pick phase. Jiang Lan took the jungler role, Sa Sa went mid, Zheng Rong filled as ADC, and Yu Wanqiu picked the support hero, choosing to stick to Jiang Lan like a little tail.
When the loading screen appeared, fans noticed something odd.
[Holy—Level 32 BFF badge?!]
[Did you two level up via rocket or something?]
[For the record, Jiang Lan and Lu Yicheng’s couple badge is only Level 22.]
[Wonder how Lu Yicheng feels about this. Tsk.]
[How did you even get to Level 32 in such a short time?? Do you just game nonstop?]
[Yu-laoshi, didn’t you say excessive gaming is unhealthy?]
Jiang Lan didn’t even look up. "Don’t ask. The answer is money."
[You’re incredible. You’re noble.]
[You’re truly incredible. You’re truly noble.]
[Am I the only one jealous? Level 32, man.]
[Who said you’re alone? Lu Yicheng is right there with you.]
Jiang Lan glanced at the comments. "Just focus on the game, everyone. Don’t bring up irrelevant people. Yu-laoshi, come here."
The support hero, in a special skin, hopped onto the jungler’s back.
Yu Wanqiu said, "I just spent some money for fun. Don’t take it seriously."
She had the cash to spare, so it didn’t matter how much she spent—but she didn’t want fans to follow her example.
The two-hour gaming session flew by. By 10 p.m., Yu Wanqiu was at Star I with one star—just five more matches to King. Zheng Rong asked, "Want to keep going? Four more games won’t take long."
Yu Wanqiu hesitated. "Don’t you have training?"
Zheng Rong: "We get half a day off on weekends. Besides, this counts as training too."
It was good practice for last-hitting and jungle rotations.
If things went smoothly, they could hit King tonight. The temptation was strong. "Let’s do it," Yu Wanqiu said.
It’d probably go past midnight, but… the allure of King rank was too great.
[I sleep at 10 p.m. and wake up at 6 a.m. I like peace and quiet.]
[I sleep at 10 p.m. and wake up at 6 a.m. I like peace and quiet.]
[I also sleep at 10 p.m. and wake up at 6 a.m. I like peace and quiet.]
[Please, for the love of all things holy, leave Yu-laoshi some dignity.]
This wasn’t the first time Yu Wanqiu had stayed up so late in front of her fans. During livestreams, she’d often chat until past eleven. But this time, after reaching the King rank in the game, it was already past midnight—and staying up past midnight definitely counted as pulling an all-nighter.
What do you think?
Total Responses: 0