Chapter 22: The Trap

Qiu Chao’s voice coming through the radio mic was so sultry it could melt a horde of headphone junkies.

At least, the exploding barrage of comments in the live stream made that clear.

【No way, sis! This is way too suggestive!】

【Beware the straight girl trap!】

【Yan Muyu is definitely a lesbian, but Qiu Chao? I remember she had a bunch of exes.】

【If Qiu Chao’s a lesbian, I’d be first in line.】

【She definitely wouldn’t pack pajamas. Was that on purpose?】

Yan Muyu had long since built up immunity to that seductive tone. She pulled out her own essentials without even looking up. “Are you an idiot?”

“They’d leave pajamas so your fans wouldn’t complain about the show screwing you over, right?”

Her voice wasn’t the least bit dazed by Qiu Chao’s teasing. It was more like the serene calm of a monk deep in meditation. She even tossed in a jab: “Miss Qiu doesn’t need to worry about having nothing to wear.”

The next second, Yan Muyu glanced up. Her gaze landed on the open cabinet, where the production team had indeed prepared some clothes.

Rustic fabric in blue-and-white floral patterns—easy to mistake for headscarves or curtains. There were camisole styles and shirt styles.

Four pieces in total, clearly meant for them to change into.

【Yan Muyu and that mouth of hers…】

【I vaguely remember some anonymous forum post about entertainment industry gossip. Yan Muyu had this badass rumor—forgot the name, though.】

【Quiet reminder: Don’t fall for Yan Muyu.】

【I remember that one. It was hyped up like the first page of a martial arts manual. Thought she was some demon lord.】

【So what’s her real charm…】

【Feels like she’s genuinely… super…】

【Not exactly gentle or caring, but not mean either. Just lacks that couple vibe and warmth the other pairs have…】

Qiu Chao spotted them too. She let out an “Oh,” without a hint of embarrassment. She pulled out her makeup bag and said, “So, you wanna wear the camisole?”

Yan Muyu wasn’t fazed by the teasing. “Either works for me. Better than nothing.”

Even the viewers had no idea what Yan Muyu would look like in a camisole, let alone Qiu Chao.

Despite always keeping tabs on Yan Muyu, Qiu Chao knew her style points were all in effortless cool. Camisoles didn’t fit that image at all.

Yet the woman in question had already selected her five essentials.

Toiletry bag, camera, laptop and card reader, fan, and a clothing pouch.

Even though the production team provided stuff—and even though she owned the damn show—she clearly trusted them about as far as she could throw them.

She noticed Qiu Chao still staring at her and raised her eyes slightly. “What? Think I’d look bad in a camisole?”

【I bet she’d look terrible.】

【Yan Muyu’s chest is flatter than mine… I’m content.】

【I was just staring at her hands earlier. Saw a screenshot of her hand on Weibo—pure thirst comments.】

【Can’t even look at “pick” anymore without cringing.】

【How’d she pack so many snacks…?】

【Camera… looking forward to it. Chief photographer level? Shouldn’t the crew provide that?】

Qiu Chao pressed her lips together, thinking it over seriously. “Never seen it. Wear the camisole tonight?”

Yan Muyu: “Whatever.”

She really didn’t care. Seeing Qiu Chao dithering forever without picking anything, she urged, “Hurry up.”

The indoor cameras wouldn’t zoom in. Qiu Chao’s luggage consisted of three suitcases, mostly clothes. Her makeup and skincare took up half a case each.

Compared to Yan Muyu, who only had a toiletry bag, it left even the viewers feeling decision paralysis.

【Are these brands sponsors?】

【Crew blurred them out, lol.】

【What’s that in the bottom right?】

The next second, Yan Muyu noticed it too.

She quickly yanked a piece of clothing over it and shot a glance at the room’s camera, utterly speechless. “You brought this on a show?”

Qiu Chao apparently found Yan Muyu’s cover-up amusingly novel. Squatting on the floor, she shifted her body sideways. Only then did viewers realize how petite her frame was—small enough that Yan Muyu could completely block her from view.

Qiu Chao wasn’t tall. Even Shen Tianqing, whom Yan Muyu mentally labeled a short widow, stood a bit taller.

Qiu Chao’s wiki listed her at 165 cm, but Yan Muyu figured she was under 160.

Her presence made up for it, though. Shen Tianqing carried scenes with her aura too.

But Shen Tianqing’s was a moody rust-red, while Qiu Chao’s was a bold primary red.

The vibrant scarlet of Spring Festival couplets on doorframes—pure, spicy like chili, sharp enough to prick your eyes if you stared too long.

Qiu Chao leaned against the bed’s edge from outside, watching Yan Muyu with a half-smile. “The production team didn’t say we couldn’t.”

She’d just touched up her makeup. Compared to Yan Muyu’s bare face, they were like the two sides of a sheet of paper.

One side bloody vivid, the other snow-white plain.

【What the—!!】

【Yan Muyu’s built like a tank…】

【Why do same-sex pairs get size differences too??】

【Last time I noticed was Meng Heng and Shen Tianqing, but not this extreme.】

【Meng Heng’s vibe totally changed after her scandal. Feels very “big sis” now.】

【What’d Yan Muyu cover up?】

Yan Muyu nearly cursed. If she weren’t standing in as Qiu Chao’s manager, she wouldn’t give a damn what the woman did here.

She might even relish the total embarrassment.

But as her manager—and with the show in play—she had to follow the rules.

Qiu Chao wasn’t cooperating, though.

She suddenly leaned in close to Yan Muyu’s face, gently pushed her aside, and murmured “Little Yan” in that bone-melting voice.

Viewers felt their ears might get pregnant, but Yan Muyu just looked numb, staring at the item now exposed to the camera.

【That packaging looks familiar.】

【I have one too…】

【Same-frame awkwardness hitting hard.】

【So embarrassing—why this?】

Qiu Chao even picked it up. Tilting her head at Yan Muyu, she said, “Little Yan should be thanking me.”

Her lips were on the fuller side, but not excessively. That plumpness amplified her allure. During Qiu Chao’s peak years, fans had flocked to clinics with her photos, seeking lip fillers to copy those seductive pouty lips.

As if lipstick alone could make them as killer as her.

Yan Muyu saw she was unfazed and let it go.

“Thanks for what? My company’s already bust.”

Not a joke. Yan Muyu was always freewheeling and flush with cash. Starting a business was just a whim.

That women’s toy company had been a flash of inspiration. Niche, but it carved out a spot.

Her ventures were like romances—short bloom, quick burnout.

She wasn’t cut out to be a boss. Better as a designer. The kind who was both client and creator, dragging the whole company along on her dream.

【Knew it!】

【Qiu Chao’s is limited edition. Barrage full of rich ladies.】

Qiu Chao: “So my free promo’s wasted?”

Yan Muyu: “Yep. Never planned to make bank off it.”

She glanced down. “Leaving that as an essential?”

Her tone carried a teasing lilt. Everyone in the stream felt their ears getting a rinse cycle.

Qiu Chao’s voice was overly seductive—thick and sticky like stretched mochi.

Yan Muyu’s was crisp and clear, clashing with her not-so-nice-guy face. Blind audio alone, you’d peg her as pure and lofty, fit for a pristine full moon.

【Essential…?】

【Can’t imagine Sister Qiu using that… too shy.】

【That’s like the top product, right? Looks great, but packs a punch…】

Qiu Chao hummed in agreement. Smiling, she picked through the rest. “You won’t think I’m too…”

She trailed off, unsure how to phrase it.

Others might not know, but Yan Muyu did. She knew exactly what Qiu Chao was like.

Wild, uninhibited, lost in frenzy.

Yan Muyu had even chewed her out once, accusing her of doping on some shady stuff to get that hyped up.

Right then, Qiu Siyuan pushed the door open, making the scene awkwardly timed.

The viewers squirmed, but the subjects seemed unfazed.

The silver-haired, slicked-back director asked, “You two done picking?”

Yan Muyu glanced at Qiu Chao, who smoothly took the small basket from a staffer and dropped her items in.

Qiu Siyuan spotted the thing and let out a “Whoa.”

【This director… so stylish.】

【Total player vibe.】

【She hooked up with my fave foreign streamer once, sob.】

【Lesbian world is all lesbians!】

【Not mad… Love an all-women variety show!】

Qiu Siyuan stood casually, running through the process. She read out viewer questions pre-selected by the editing team.

Some sharp, some mild.

The little house’s lights were all warm tones. In the cramped room, Yan Muyu watched the staff cart off her and Qiu Chao’s luggage.

She listened to Qiu Siyuan’s raspy voice rattle off the exact kind of comments she’d expected—

“Qiu Chao’s just faking innocence. Truth is, she blew up on debut by sleeping her way up. Bringing that on a variety show? Shameless! Disgrace!”

【Who posted that…?】

【How’s that disgraceful? Shameless? Then how were you born, huh?!!】

[I’ve seen comments like that before… but I never imagined the production team would read one out loud on the spot.]

“This variety show so lonely without any guys? After all those years abroad, were you always with foreign men…”

Qiu Siyuan cleared her throat. “It’s muted now.”

The atmosphere turned so awkward that even the viewers weren’t sure what to post in the live chat.

Now, the screen was flooded with heartbroken messages from Qiu Chao’s fans.

To make matters worse, the director team cut to close-ups of the guests—Qiu Chao’s subtle expressions and Yan Muyu with her eyes cast downward.

It was a summer night, after a long day of travel for everyone. The other program guests, still waiting to settle in, had all heard Qiu Siyuan read that comment over the loudspeaker.

They were all women, and the malice in the comment was blatant and unfiltered. Qiu Siyuan had recited it without any emotion, but to the onlookers, it felt brutally cruel.

Ding Yingxue whispered to Pei Wan, “That was way too harsh. I’m a little scared they’ll dig up something on me later.”

She didn’t have any romances to speak of, but twisted words could always be spun into scandalous dirt.

Her agent, Pei Wan, patted her hand. “Don’t worry. Doesn’t this format feel pretty rare?”

Compared to those viral roast shows from before, the audience had started calling this one a whitewash fest.

Sure, a bit of self-deprecation could turn things around once, but if it happened every time, even without directly addressing the issues, viewers wouldn’t buy it.

It was like they thought they could fool everyone with a goofy grin.

That thunderbolt of a malicious comment, broadcast over a roadside speaker on this summer night, was clipped and posted to Weibo almost instantly.

The variety show’s first day had gone viral before it even got entertaining.

QiuChao #WomenProducts

ThisVarietyShowWentTooFar

BlackFanCommentReadAloud

[…So brutal!]

[Qiu Chao didn’t even get mad—that’s the real killer.]

[Does Yan Muyu have a script? If so, why bother hiding it?]

[From a designer’s perspective, Yan Muyu doesn’t need to hide. Her company’s whole vibe is about pleasing yourself.]

[She’s Qiu Chao’s agent now, of course she’d…]

Qiu Chao hadn’t expected things to play out like this.

Even so, she watched her luggage get carted away before rising slowly to her feet.

“Do I really need a man that badly?”

She sighed. “Would my fans think I’m embarrassing like this?”

Her voice remained soft and languid, betraying no hint of anger.

She’d heard these kinds of psychological jabs too many times over the years. Back in her teens, they’d hurt; she’d wanted to explain herself, to prove her innocence.

But now, in her thirties, those awkward girlhood days were long gone. A decade of hard-fought career triumphs had forged an unshakeable aura of achievement around her. And yet, when most people thought of her, the first thing that came to mind was still the vicious tabloid smears from the print media era.

As if the item in her hand was proof of her stains.

Qiu Chao sighed again. “I was even going to recommend it. It really does bring joy.”

She opened the box. On camera, the logo was a stylized water drop—its name still sounded like “rain” when transliterated.

She wanted this one because she wanted Yan Muyu.

Just like this box: as if opening it could transport her back to that day.

Yan Muyu said, “It’s my design, of course. It won’t embarrass you.”

The director, Qiu Siyuan, was still leaning off to the side. She’d never zipped up her tactical jacket, making her look uncomfortably hot.

Her eyes on Qiu Chao hadn’t strayed from Yan Muyu once.

It was like seeing that girl again—the one Yan Muyu had brought into the KTV private room for her seventeenth birthday.

Back then, Qiu Siyuan had thought Yan Muyu had lost her mind, mistaking someone for another.

Only later did Qiu Siyuan realize that Qiu Chao had been Yan Muyu’s fateful encounter.

The mood had been lifting nicely. Viewers were starting to pity Qiu Chao while admiring her bold honesty about her desires.

Before anyone could chime in with more thoughts, Qiu Chao spoke up. “Little Yan, you’re not so bad yourself.”