Huayu: I'm reborn, but you still force me to be a scumbag?

Chapter 466: Type 1 if you want it, type 2 if you don't (8800 words)
"I'm so sorry, I'm really sorry. I'll give you a 20% discount on your bill tonight."

"Yes, yes, it's important. I'm so sorry."

"Excuse me, please take care."

On stage, Zhao Lei watched in astonishment as Yingzi hurriedly began to shoo people away. Soon, only that group of new customers remained in the small bar.

Yingzi moved so quickly that he couldn't stop her. He could only put his guitar aside and stand on the stage watching helplessly.

Is it appropriate that he hasn't even sung his last song yet?

Having frequented bars for so many years, Zhao Lei knew very well that although the departing customers didn't seem to say anything, they were unlikely to ever return.

For a newly opened bar, turning away customers is absolutely suicidal.

The key point is that he didn't feel comfortable with these uninvited guests. Not only was the woman in the lead rude, but the other men and women also kept looking at him strangely.

The look in his eyes didn't seem like he was looking at a panda; it was more like he was looking at a panda with two butts.

This is definitely not a fan, and it's definitely not a talent scout.

Zhao Lei isn't some diamond buried in the sand. He's already been on Super Boy, and all the major entertainment companies in China wouldn't treat him like they've discovered a new continent, rushing over to find him during the Chinese New Year.
Besides, talent scouts aren't like the third-highest ranked students; they can't possibly be so dedicated and passionate about their work that they don't even take breaks during holidays.

So what exactly did this woman say to Yingzi that made her act without any hesitation?
After everyone had left, he was genuinely puzzled and asked, "Yingzi, what's going on? Who are they?"

Yingzi suddenly exclaimed, "Brother, the pain is from CCTV!"

"CCTV?" Zhao Lei broke down the five words and repeated them.

“Yes!” Yingzi said excitedly.

This was an answer that was completely beyond Zhao Lei's expectations. He didn't know how to react for a moment, and just subconsciously looked at the woman in the lead.

He was probably in his forties, with short hair and a rectangular face. He was wearing a suit and looked very capable. When he was talking to Yingzi, she tilted her head slightly and looked him up and down. From her gaze, you could tell that she didn't care about his feelings at all.

This is indeed somewhat similar to CCTV.

Seeing him look over, the woman said, "Let me introduce myself. My name is Ha Wen, and I'm the director in charge of song and dance programs for the Spring Festival Gala. You're Zhao Lei, right?"

Zhao Lei nodded blankly and said, "Yes."

The woman raised her hand to look at her watch, then looked up and said, "It's getting late, sing me a song now."

After saying that, he plopped down on a booth in the lobby, and the others followed suit.

Zhao Lei had absolutely no idea how to react.

Logically speaking,

"Director of CCTV Spring Festival Gala"—that's a ridiculous answer. At 1 a.m., with 6 days, no, 5 days, until New Year's Eve, a director from the Spring Festival Gala production team comes to your door.
For a folk singer, believing this is less valuable than receiving a phone call. The caller says his name is Chen Nuo and he is going to recommend him to be a performer at the Oscars. The condition is that he needs 2 yuan to "smooth things over," so he needs to transfer the money to a China Construction Bank card in the name of Li Sufen.

Anyone with an IQ over 50 wouldn't believe this nonsense.

So when Zhao Lei sat back down in front of the microphone and picked up his guitar again, he really felt like an idiot, desperate for fame!
He paused for a moment, holding his guitar, realizing his mind was blank, and then asked, "Um, what would you like to hear me sing?"

Zhao Lei had only asked casually, and he expected the other person to reply with something like "Play one of your best songs" or "Anything is fine."

Unexpectedly, after he asked the question, the men and women opposite him started to whisper among themselves.

It wasn't a pretentious discussion; it was a genuine and serious one, with everyone talking at once, and snippets of conversation drifting over. Among them, an elderly man in his fifties and a young man in his thirties were arguing quite heatedly.

"...Didn't they say before that they didn't want to..."

“We can’t just ignore it completely… We’re facing hundreds of millions of viewers, tens of millions of teenagers… They will all be affected…”

"...Yes, we need to consider...the impact."

"...But what if they don't agree in the end..."

"We should at least ask..."

"I agree... his boss will definitely watch his show..."

"...What if there isn't one?"

"If not, then of course it's fine."

A few minutes later, the woman who identified herself as Ha Wen looked up and asked, "Do you have any songs with a more positive message?"

Upon hearing this question, Zhao Lei's heart began to pound. If the credibility was 1% before, after this question, based on his knowledge of fraud prevention, the credibility rose to at least 40%.

"Yes," he answered immediately.

The woman nodded and said, "Then let's go."

Zhao Lei didn't put on airs. He picked up his guitar and began to play and sing: "Draw a moon for the lonely night sky, and draw me singing under that moon... For the desolate house, draw a big window, and then draw a bed... Draw a girl to keep me company, and then draw a lace-trimmed quilt..."

Soon, the song "Painting" was finished.

After a few whispers from the other side, Ha Wen asked again, "Is there anything more positive?"

Zhao Lei thought for a moment, then sang another song, "Southern Girl".
Next, he sang all the songs he performed during his participation in the Super Boy competition last year: "Rice Shop," "Farewell," "Snowman," and "We Are Already on Two Different Paths." These songs had all been selected by Hunan TV and are among the most positive and uplifting of his original compositions.

Before this, he had already been singing all night, and after such non-stop playing and singing, his voice was almost at its limit, but the group opposite him was obviously still not satisfied.

“Little Zhao,” the man in his fifties said, “I’m a few years older than you, so I’ll call you Little Zhao, okay? Listening to your songs, apart from the first one which is barely acceptable, the others all have some negative and unsatisfactory elements. That’s not good. We would prefer a purer, more positive, and more educational work.”

Zhao Lei understood what the old man meant.

Calm down and think about it.

If, just if, these people are from CCTV's directing team this year, selecting songs for the Spring Festival Gala, then none of his songs are really suitable.

Zhao Lei has been a failure and a penniless loser all this time, suffering daily torment in the gap between ideals and reality. This influence is unavoidable in the vast majority of his songs.

In summary, there's a quality that many people perceive as affected and pretentious. It's one thing for him to sing in bars regularly, where everyone is like him; it's another for him to participate in talent shows and other professional programs, since it's just a local station.

However, he himself felt guilty about actually going on stage on CCTV's Spring Festival Gala on New Year's Eve and singing for the whole country during the Spring Festival. He felt it was too damn unlucky.

His racing heartbeat gradually calmed down, and Zhao Lei, too lazy to tell whether the person on the other end was genuine or not, politely said, "Most of the songs here are like this. Director, if it's not suitable, perhaps..."

He originally meant to say, "Maybe we should just forget about it."
But halfway through the sentence, the words "never mind" seemed to have taken root on his tongue, and he just couldn't get them out.

At that moment, many images flashed through Zhao Lei's mind.

In a dimly lit bar, a seventeen-year-old boy timidly asked a customer, "Brother, would you like to request a song?" The other person was the round-faced man who became famous nationwide with "Dark Fragrance." He was looking down at his phone and replied with a emotionless word without looking up: "Get lost."

On the bluestone path beneath the majestic palace, two people walked and sang while holding beers. Suddenly, a young man with a pointed face and monkey-like features turned around and said with a serious expression, "It would be an injustice if you, Zhao Lei, didn't become famous."

A woman with gray hair lay on the hospital bed, holding his hand tightly. Her eyes were full of concern and reluctance. Her lips trembled as if she wanted to say something, but in the end, she said nothing. Only her hand slowly fell to her sides, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't.

And there was that courtyard house piled with clutter, and that cramped eight-square-meter rental room where it was difficult to even turn around.

A bus late at night, amidst swirling snowflakes.

And the raindrops were icy cold on my face...

He ultimately didn't say the words "never mind".

However, although he didn't say it aloud, his meaning was already quite clear.

He suddenly worried that the person opposite might get up and leave. However, to Zhao Lei's surprise, the person was much more tolerant and gentle than he had imagined. After hearing his words, the old man actually managed a smile and said:
"Xiao Zhao, don't worry... I'm not criticizing you. I just... think about it, it's the New Year, if we really make everyone feel bad, that's not right, don't you think?"

A man next to him chimed in, "Yeah, just keep it simple, nothing too depressing. The subject matter doesn't matter, family, friendship, love are all fine. Like 'My Old Classmate' or 'My Upper Bunk Brother' are both good."

Finally, the female director named Ha Wen said, "As long as you don't make people feel particularly pessimistic or upset... Xiao Zhao, think again, are there any similar songs in the ones you sang tonight?"

Zhao Lei shook his head and answered honestly, "There really aren't any songs for tonight."

After saying that, he frantically searched his mind for possible options, then hesitated and said, "However, I do have a song that I'm currently writing... and it seems pretty good."

"Still writing?" Upon hearing this, the old man immediately shook his head. "That won't do. We're pressed for time and can't wait for you to finish. Director Ha, what do you think we should do?"

Ha Wen frowned and remained silent in thought.

Zhao Lei was now filled with anxiety. He was already 60% convinced—if it were truly a scam, why go through all this trouble, coming to him in the middle of the night to put on this act? What was he planning to scam him out of?
He has nothing left except a guitar, a mountain of debt, and a pile of unsold CDs at home.

Lie to him?

I estimate they won't even be able to recoup their taxi fare.

He thought and thought, and the only reasonable explanation was that his brief appearance on "Super Boy" had somehow caught the attention of the Spring Festival Gala production team.

Hey, didn't Zhao Benshan announce his withdrawal from the Spring Festival Gala a few days ago?
Isn't it just so happens that his surname is also Zhao?

So, did the Spring Festival Gala production team make a decision to have him replace Zhao Benshan...?

"Snapped!"

There was a crisp sound.

Everyone stared in astonishment.

Zhao Lei's face stung; he had really put his strength into that slap. The sharp pain disrupted his chaotic thoughts, and his mind cleared completely.

He has never fought for anything in his life.

But this time, regardless of whether these people were real or fake, even if there was only a one percent chance, he had to fight for it for the sake of those who loved and cared for him, and for his mother.

"I can write songs very quickly. Although it's only half-finished now, the lyrics are complete, and the melody and chorus are also finished. If you want it, I can finish it in three days, no, two days," Zhao Lei said earnestly.

The person on the other end was silent for a moment, and then the director named Ha Wen said, "Alright, then sing it for us."

Zhao Lei took a deep breath and glanced at Yingzi, who was standing not far away. The girl hadn't said much, just stood silently to the side. At this moment, she met his gaze and nodded at him without hesitation.

Zhao Lei lowered his head, closed his eyes, and began to quickly organize the melody and lyrics in his mind. He had indeed only written a rough draft of this song; he hadn't even created a complete musical score yet.

It was a song he wrote three years ago when he returned from LS and made a brief stop in a city in the southwest. He met a girl there and was moved by her story.

At the time, he felt that the song was too niche and too regional, and that it wouldn't have much of a market nationwide, so he kept putting it off and had little motivation to finish it.

But now that I think about it, none of his works is more pure than this one.

He lowered his head and began strumming chords. After playing the intro for a while, he started singing: "What made me shed tears wasn't just last night's wine..."

As he sang, he observed the expressions on the faces of the people opposite him.

As soon as this lyric was uttered, the old man, Ha Wen, and several others all frowned to varying degrees.

Zhao Lei felt a chill in his heart, but he could only grit his teeth and continue singing, "...What I'm reluctant to part with isn't just your gentleness..."

The soothing song played softly, echoing in the small bar.

The composition wasn't finished, and there were bound to be bumps and interruptions along the way. Sometimes Zhao Lei even had to improvise the melody, which naturally made the expressions of the people opposite him increasingly unpleasant. Zhao Lei saw that Ha Wen's brows were furrowing more and more tightly, and the old man even seemed about to interrupt him several times, but he managed to hold back.

His heart sank lower and lower with the progression of the song.

Finally, the chorus arrived. This part was relatively mature and complete. Zhao Lei adjusted his state and smoothly entered the rhythm, "...Walk with me on the streets of Chengdu, oh oh~"

Before it was finished, I heard...

"stop!"

"Stop, stop, stop!"

"Wait a moment!"

At least three or four people in the opposite row shouted at the same time.

The old man who had been picking on him stood up the moment he shut up and demanded, "Chengdu? You sang about Chengdu??"

Looking at him, Zhao Lei really didn't know which taboo he had broken. What? Is Chengdu a forbidden word on the Spring Festival Gala?
"Yes, it's Chengdu?"

Are you sure it's Chengdu?

"I'm sure." Under the old man's aggressive questioning, Zhao Lei's temper flared up a bit, and he said in a less than friendly tone, "Chengdu, what's the problem? I'm going to call this song Chengdu."

After he finished speaking, the other side fell silent.

The old man fell silent.

Zhao Lei thought he was finished. But to his surprise, the female director named Ha Wen said, "...Xiao Zhao, keep singing, finish the song."

Zhao Lei didn't want to think about it anymore, so he lowered his head, found a tune, plucked the strings again, and continued singing.

Apart from the chorus, the rest of the song was still bumpy and had many setbacks.

This time, however, he noticed that no one was frowning anymore. Instead, they all had different expressions, their faces filled with excitement as they listened and whispered among themselves.

After the song ended, they even clapped together.

"Good, not bad, it can definitely be described as homesickness, a longing for this land, and a deep affection for one's hometown."

"The love story in it is also very beautiful. I think it's very suitable. What do you guys think, Director Ha?"

"No, no, no, it's not about love. You can think of the girl in it as a symbol, right? Doesn't that give you that feeling right away?" "That makes sense, it's totally tailor-made for you."

"That's right, haha, Chengdu is great, Chengdu is wonderful."

Zhao Lei was completely baffled, but he knew he had misunderstood. It seemed he had misunderstood. Chengdu seemed to have a special affinity with these people.

"Alright, that's enough. Xiao Zhao, come down here, let's have a chat." Ha Wen glanced at his watch and waved to him.

Zhao Lei put his guitar on the bench, walked off the stage, and sat down at the round table next to the group of uninvited guests, with Yingzi standing behind him.

"I know you may still have some doubts in your mind."

The woman said, "But we are indeed from the Spring Festival Gala production team. If you don't believe me, you can search my name online now. It's the 'hahaha' in 'hahaha,' the 'wen' in 'literary genre,' ha Wen. These are all my colleagues, directors and senior editors from CCTV. We're here for our program for this year's Spring Festival Gala..."

Zhao Lei listened, turned his head to look at Yingzi, and saw the girl nod.

He immediately realized that Yingzi had already investigated and confirmed that this person was indeed a CCTV guest, and that this person named Ha Wen was indeed a CCTV director!

"...As you've probably heard, Mr. Benshan has withdrawn from the Spring Festival Gala stage this year..."

Zhao Lei suddenly felt a surge of excitement. He frantically squeezed his thigh under the table, barely managing to keep from jumping up and yelling. He knew he was definitely a case of unappreciated talent. But the idea of ​​filling Zhao Benshan's vacancy on the Spring Festival Gala stage was something he truly never imagined would come true.

However, the woman's next words instantly brought him back to reality.

"...So, we invited a heavyweight guest to fill the vacancy left by Mr. Benshan, but the problem now is the song; we haven't chosen one yet. However, he told us before that he thought your song was good..."

Zhao Lei murmured, "My song?"

"Yes, after the selection process, we found two songs that you have that are quite suitable. One is 'Painting,' and the other is the unfinished song you just sang."

Zhao Lei understood.

It turns out that people value his songs, not him as a person!

He felt as if he had returned from heaven to earth.

Although this sounded much more reasonable, the feeling of falling so quickly after reaching the top made him feel like he had a stone stuck in his heart, leaving him speechless.

"Especially the second song, I suggest you don't sleep tonight, hurry up and perfect it, and go to the recording studio tomorrow morning to record a demo and hand it to us. Of course, if you can't find a suitable professional recording studio, I can help you coordinate with our CCTV recording studio."

Zhao Lei didn't want to say anything more.

While getting his song onto the Spring Festival Gala was a good thing, it was a world of difference from what he had envisioned. His songs were like his children; he had never truly considered letting anyone else sing them. Yet this woman, still acting all high and mighty, didn't ask or say anything, and simply told him to start writing songs that very night?
First, did he agree?
Secondly, songwriting isn't like manual labor! It's not something you can just do on a whim; it requires inspiration, emotion, moonlight, the sound of the wind, and a touch of everyday life. You know nothing!
He forced a smile and said, "Isn't it too tight?"

Ha Wen said coldly, "It's not a problem. What we lack right now is time. You need to give me at least a basic demo by tomorrow morning. It doesn't need to be complicated; just record your vocals and guitar accompaniment. But the melody and lyrics must be complete. We have an audio team here that can do the post-production arrangement based on your demo."

That tone really treats him like a grandson!

Humiliated by his failed attempt to sell himself, Zhao Lei's rebellious temper flared up again. What's so great about the Spring Festival Gala? If they really wanted to use his song, would they be so rude to him?
Zhao hadn't considered selling the song. He could make an exception for the sake of the Spring Festival Gala, but who would he be showing off to if he wasn't polite? His artistic temperament kicked in, his face fell, and he said coldly, "Director Ha, writing songs isn't that fast; it depends on the feeling. I'm very tired today. I know you're in a hurry, but I can't help it. I'll finalize the lyrics and melody tomorrow during the day, record a rough demo tonight, and hand it to you the day after tomorrow morning."

Ha Wen shook her head and said, "No, we can't make it in time. Here's what we'll do: you come back to the station with me now and we'll use our recording studio. You can finish recording the vocals and guitar tracks tonight, and I'll have the audio team do basic noise reduction and track separation overnight. We can have a demo ready first thing tomorrow morning."

"Director Ha, I... let me put it this way, if this really is the Spring Festival Gala, I have a question I'd like to ask. How do you usually pay the copyright fees for songs you use?"

The woman looked astonished and asked, "Copyright fees?"

“Yes, copyright fees.” Seeing the other party’s surprised look, Zhao Lei felt a little pleased and said casually, “I can’t just let you use it for free, can I? I know your Spring Festival Gala is a big stage, but if I give the song to your singers to sing, there has to be an explanation.”

"statement?"

"Yes."

The woman laughed, still with that arrogant attitude, and said, "What kind of explanation do you want? Money? Do you even know who's going to sing your song on the Spring Festival Gala? You're asking me for money?"

Zhao Lei was even angrier. He said calmly, "No matter who it is, even if it's Faye Wong or Eason Chan singing, I'll still charge them royalties. However, I do want to know who you've chosen as the guest. Director Ha, these two songs are among my favorites, and I don't want them to be lip-synced on stage."

Zhao Lei had expected Ha Wen to be angry, but to his surprise, the woman chuckled, as if she found him rather ridiculous. Her tone was extremely irritating as she casually said, "Don't worry about that, I won't lip-sync..."

He was about to retort, "Your Spring Festival Gala is just a stage for lip-syncing, who are you trying to fool?" when he heard the woman continue, "Chen Nuo doesn't have that habit."

Zhao Lei blinked, looked around, and saw that the people opposite him all had serious expressions on their faces.

He frowned, wondering if he had misheard.

Zhao Lei hesitated for a moment, but in the end, his so-called defenses of self-esteem crumbled like paper in the face of those two words.

He blinked and asked, "Director Ha, excuse me, who did you just say? Chen something? Nuo?"

……

Ten minutes later.

Ha Wen and her group left, just as hurriedly and without stopping as they had arrived, without exchanging pleasantries or formalities. The woman led the way, followed closely by the others.

Zhao Lei initially thought this was incredibly impolite. But now, he understood—these people had to rush back to the CCTV building overnight to work overtime, and hadn't been home for several days. They had no time to waste on socializing and formalities.

Just like himself, tonight is destined to be a sleepless night.

He had to go home to get his CDs, the manuscript of "Chengdu," and his beloved acoustic guitar, then rush to the CCTV recording studio that very night. With the help of the audio engineer, he needed to polish the melody of "Chengdu" into a at least listenable demo by 10 a.m. the next morning.

"elder brother."

"Ok?"

"Did I hear that right? Chen Nuo is going to sing your song?"

"Yeah."

Zhao Lei didn't know how his voice sounded, but he hoped it wouldn't sound as impatient as Yingzi's.

"Where do you think he saw you sing? Did he watch Super Boy? That's unlikely, isn't it?"

"I don't know."

Why do you think he would watch Super Boy?

"I do not know."

"Okay. Bro, he likes your songs... Bro, don't you think that's amazing?"

Zhao Lei stated truthfully, "It's a little bit magical."

"Do you think it might be your aunt's spirit in heaven protecting you?"

Zhao Lei looked up at the ceiling and said, "Maybe."

The two were silent for a while, then Yingzi changed her tone and asked, "Brother, do you think you'll be able to meet him in person?"

"I don't know."

"You're the author, shouldn't we call you to the rehearsal?"

"Yes, probably."

"Wouldn't it be embarrassing if you went to ask him for his autograph?"

Zhao Lei thought for a moment and said, "It shouldn't be a problem. Would you like me to get you one?"

"Okay, is that alright?"

"can."

"...Brother, if you're ever short of money, just tell me."

Zhao Lei stood up and said, "Okay, I'll go home for a bit, then I'll be right there."

Yingzi stood up and suddenly hugged him, her eyes reddening slightly: "Brother, you're finally going to be famous. I knew you'd be famous sooner or later."

Zhao Lei didn't mince words; that would be too hypocritical. He patted her on the back and said earnestly, "Thanks to you tonight, Yingzi. Thank you."

……

……

Chen Nuo was surprised that CCTV called so early.

It's only a little past 10 a.m.

Do you even want people to sleep?

Gao Yuanyuan, who was standing nearby, was also woken up by the noise. She opened her eyes groggily and asked, "Who is it?"

"CCTV said they already have the songs, and they selected two for me to listen to in their recording studio."

"Huh? So early?" Gao Yuanyuan propped herself up and sat up. "Couldn't they just send you a document to listen to?"

"They said there's a song that was just recorded, it's still a demo, and we need to go over and listen to it. If there are any problems, we can fix them on the spot." Chen Nuo leaned against the headboard and yawned.

"I can't bear to part with you." Gao Yuanyuan hugged his waist.

Gao Yuanyuan unusually acted like a little girl, which made Chen Nuo's heart soften.

Last night, this woman, who has always been labeled as an "artistic goddess," seemed to have completely let go of herself.

Gone was the carefree, "live for today" attitude of their early casual relationship, and the aloof, restrained demeanor of later times. As if a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders, she became warm, generous, cheerful, and direct, even quite hospitable.

That night, she used almost everything she had, completely abandoning her status as a national goddess, and it felt like she had completely become... cough.

In short—her coquettish behavior really made Chen Nuo feel a little uncomfortable.

Do you have time before the new year?

"I don't know," Gao Yuanyuan replied in a muffled voice.

There's nothing we can do about it.

He tried to get up, but Gao Yuanyuan still clung to him and wouldn't let go.

Chen Nuo couldn't help but laugh: "What's wrong? I really have to go over there."

The woman looked up, blinked her bright eyes, and whispered, "I want to have a child with you."

"…………What did you say?"

At the most unguarded moment, when he heard the woman say the harshest words in the gentlest voice, Chen Nuo shuddered and his dizzy head suddenly cleared.

Gao Yuanyuan sat up, her long black hair slightly disheveled, but her expression remained calm and focused.

“My mother is in poor health and is always worried about me. She has always hoped that I would get married soon.” She spoke slowly, but every word was clear. “I have thought a lot about this over the past year. I know that you can’t be with me, so I have never known what to do.”

“Sometimes I really think, maybe I should do what Bingbing did and have a child without telling you. That way, Mom could feel more at ease.” She gave a bitter smile. “But that would be too unfair to myself… I even often think, should I leave you completely and find someone who is willing to live a stable life with me?”

"When I saw you last night, I wasn't really sure what I wanted, I didn't even know what I wanted."

She paused here, then looked up, her eyes flashing with an astonishing light—a light that carried a hint of madness and a resolute determination to go all out.

"It wasn't until later that I finally figured it out."

"You are the one I have been waiting for."

She called softly, "Chen Nuo".

There was no hesitation or probing in her tone, but rather an unprecedented clarity and resolve: "I love you."

……

Do you know what a female literary youth is like once she lets go of her reserve?

That's how it is.

More direct, more intense, and more ruthless than ordinary girls.

If Mr. Chen weren't truly a seasoned veteran, an ordinary man, before even brushing his teeth in the morning, would probably be completely bewildered by the topic of having his babies brought up by the beautiful woman he just slept with the night before.

Although he reformed himself in this life, the number of times he was confessed to in his past life was as numerous as the stars in the sky. He had encountered things like cutting his own neck and wrists with a knife and saying "I'll die if you don't say yes" more than once, let alone ordinary confessions like this.

So, Nuoge wasn't intimidated. Instead, he looked directly at Gao Yuanyuan with unwavering eyes and said earnestly, "Thank you for your love, Yuanyuan. I must say, it's my honor. I'm very honored to receive your love. Thank you."

He paused briefly, giving Gao Yuanyuan some time to react, before continuing, "As for what you said, I still want to thank you for not choosing to hide it from me, but for telling me frankly... However, you have to let me think about it, okay?"

His attitude made Gao Yuanyuan a little uncomfortable. Her face slowly turned red, and a thin blush spread from her neck to her face. It was clear that she was trying hard to suppress her shyness. She nodded and said, "Okay, let me know when you've thought it over."

"I will, don't worry. I'm getting up now. You must have been exhausted last night, go back to sleep." Chen Nuo hugged Gao Yuanyuan naturally, kissed her on the lips, and the woman's face turned even redder. Then, under her gaze, he got out of bed and walked out of the bedroom with an air of nonchalance.

However, the moment the door was closed, Chen Nuo's expression changed instantly.

Let's just say this woman has something going on.
Now the truth has come out; there really was something going on, and it was a big deal.

What the hell should we do?
I need help online. If you want it, type 1; if you don't, type 2.

(End of this chapter)