Chapter 85: The Contrast in Set Visits

The four of them each busied themselves for a while. Lin Zhiwei stood and stretched, then leaned against the door to her office and called out, “Is anyone hungry? Interested in dropping by the training base and grabbing a bite together?”

Instantly, two heads popped up.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Mei Ning was the most enthusiastic, her face alight with excitement at the thought of seeing her idol.

“Sounds good. I was just worrying about what to order for delivery,” Xiaoyu replied, her eyes curving with a smile.

“What about Lei?” Lin Zhiwei called out.

“Alright,” Zhao Lei replied in his usual calm, deep tone.

The four of them hailed a cab to the training base where Ling Ziheng and Yin Mi’er were practicing. Mei Ning spent the ride rubbing her hands together in excitement, barely containing herself due to the driver’s presence. The joy of having lunch with her idol was a rare privilege indeed.

Upon arrival, Mei Ning couldn’t hold back any longer. “Zhiwei, where’s the goddess? What’s today’s training about?”

“Should be dance today,” Xiaoyu replied, flipping through notes on her phone. She was looking forward to it as well—Yin Mi’er’s dance skills were impressive and surely a pleasure to watch.

Lin Zhiwei chuckled softly. “What, have you all forgotten the boss is also in violin training?”

Uh...

Xiaoyu and Mei Ning fell silent, exchanging a glance. It seemed...they really had forgotten.

After registering at the front desk, a staff member led them first to Ling Ziheng’s rehearsal room. Mei Ning followed behind Lin Zhiwei, clearing her throat and quickly sidling up to whisper cautiously, “Zhiwei, please don’t sell us out later.”

Lin Zhiwei nodded, a faint smile playing at her lips. Truth be told, she wanted to check in on Yin Mi’er as well; as for Ling Ziheng, after that morning’s scene, she had little interest in him.

Ling Ziheng’s practice room connected directly to Yin Mi’er’s, making it easy for the instrument and dance instructors to move between them. Neither of the two trainees knew this, however, both wholly absorbed in their work—even during breaks, they pored over sheet music or familiarized themselves with movements, oblivious to the world outside.

Through the glass door, Lin Zhiwei saw Ling Ziheng focused intently on his violin, his expression gentle and immersed. The instructor accompanied him on the piano, occasionally exchanging notes.

Mei Ning was about to knock when Lin Zhiwei stopped her. “Don’t disturb them. Interrupting a heated discussion is the worst breach of etiquette.”

“So we’re just leaving Ziheng alone?” Mei Ning asked, tilting her head.

“We’ll check in later,” Lin Zhiwei said, already heading to the next room.

This was just what Mei Ning hoped for—finally, a chance to see her goddess. She could hardly wait another second.

Yin Mi’er’s dance training had just ended. She was reviewing a playback of her movements with the instructor, her smile radiant and captivating. Dressed simply in yoga wear, her slender, supple waist and limpid, expressive eyes created a warmth that drew people in—she was every bit the goddess.

When she saw the group outside the glass door, she immediately smiled and waved. The past few days had brought them closer, and for the first time, Yin Mi’er felt the warmth of genuine friendship and family.

The instructor nodded at Lin Zhiwei and opened the door. Lin Zhiwei approached to confer about Yin Mi’er’s progress, handing the instructor a bottle of water.

The other three immediately gathered around Yin Mi’er.

“Goddess, how are you feeling? Are you tired? I brought you some water,” Mei Ning said eagerly, offering the bottle.

“I’m fine, thank you,” Yin Mi’er replied, glancing repeatedly in Lin Zhiwei’s direction.

Zhao Lei frowned slightly, noting where Yin Mi’er’s gaze lingered. He thought to himself, with a face like Lin’s, even the girls couldn’t help but be drawn in—her charm was truly unstoppable.

Lin Zhiwei spoke with the instructor, who was full of praise for Yin Mi’er, exclaiming she hadn’t seen such dedication and diligence in years. Though Yin Mi’er’s reputation had been questionable, her attitude and appearance made her a standout among artists—a real pity about the past.

When the instructor left, Lin Zhiwei sat beside Yin Mi’er. “How’s it going? Everything alright?”

Yin Mi’er shyly lowered her head, hiding her nerves behind a sip of water. “Pretty good. I feel like I’m slowly getting back into shape. I’d forgotten some of the posture training, but these past few days I’m getting it back.”

Mei Ning muttered discontentedly, “Hey, goddess, Zhiwei is asking the same question I did, but you only give the full answer to her. That’s not fair.”

Yin Mi’er gave an embarrassed laugh.

“You’re enough. Zhiwei is the director, Mi’er should report her progress to her—not to you,” Xiaoyu quickly interjected.

“Oh, Xiaoyu, how could you say that?” Mei Ning huffed, nearly pouncing in indignation.

Lin Zhiwei grabbed hold of Mei Ning. “Alright, I’ve already ordered lunch in the car. It should arrive any minute. If you don’t mind, let’s eat here with Mi’er. We’re all usually so busy, it’s rare for us to share a meal. The setting is simple, but thank you for your understanding.”

“Zhiwei, you’re the best!” Xiaoyu cheered. Ah, Zhiwei was simply a godsend—thoughtful and full of character.

Zhao Lei maintained his calm demeanor, but inwardly sympathized with his own boss—totally ignored, not a soul remembered him. Truly pitiful...

The food arrived promptly, each order tailored to their usual tastes.

“Zhiwei, how did you know I love noodles?” Mei Ning exclaimed in surprise.

“I got chicken rice!” Xiaoyu opened her box excitedly. Zhiwei was an angel—such emotional intelligence and observation skills were out of this world.

Zhao Lei’s was eel rice; he gave a faint smile and nodded at Lin Zhiwei.

“Zhiwei, at this rate, the girls will fall head over heels for you,” Xiaoyu said between bites.

Mei Ning could only grumble to herself, but Zhiwei is a girl too... How are us single folks supposed to survive?

Yin Mi’er’s meal was a perfectly balanced, nutritious combination. She thanked Lin Zhiwei, feeling even more drawn to this universally capable man—so polished and considerate, it was impossible not to want to get closer.

“Wait—what about Ziheng?” Mei Ning suddenly remembered the next room.

“Pei Xi will bring him his meal. He’s been dieting for his workout recently, so he can’t eat much anyway,” Lin Zhiwei replied calmly.