Chapter Sixty-Seven: I’m Not That Kind of Man

When a woman changes her perfume, it often means she wants to attract someone’s attention through a subtle transformation. Of course, sometimes it’s just a whim, a curiosity to try something new, but that’s not usually the case. People tend to stick with what they’re used to.

The fragrance that Xi Yuanyuan used to wear was strikingly distinct. Even standing a meter away, Chen Fang could easily catch its scent. Now, however, the delicate aroma of jasmine on her was so faint that one had to be quite close to notice it.

“Missing a man?” Chen Fang remarked offhandedly.

In an instant, a blush crept up her neck, climbing quickly. Xi Yuanyuan’s face reddened as if a thermometer’s mercury was surging; within seconds, her entire face was flushed.

“What nonsense are you spouting!” she retorted loudly.

Agitated! Chen Fang smiled faintly. If Xi Yuanyuan had just rolled her eyes at him, he might have doubted his guess. But her flustered reaction made it clear—she was indeed thinking about a man.

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Why so worked up? We’re all adults here. Matters of affection are perfectly normal.” Chen Fang watched her with amusement. After all, everyone has desires; men and women are no different.

Xi Yuanyuan shot him a glare, then hurried back to the sofa and sat down, her tone icy. “Let’s get on with the recording. Stop dawdling.”

Chen Fang couldn’t help but laugh. Stubbornness—it’s just human nature. Between his life on Earth and his current one in Huaguo, he’d lived over sixty years altogether. He could tell at a glance that Xi Yuanyuan was reacting out of embarrassment at being seen through.

Still, he decided not to tease her further; it was just a bit of banter. He had no interest in which man she was thinking of.

“East Wind Breaks” was being recorded from scratch, so there was much to prepare. Chen Fang devoted himself to the task, recording instrumental accompaniments, meticulously refining the sound. By the time all the music tracks were complete, it was already lunchtime.

Jay Chou’s Chinese-style songs are known for a particular trait: nearly every one is infused with R&B. He wasn’t simply reviving retro trends, but rather blending ancient melodies with contemporary ones. Because of this, his songs are lauded as “three ancients and three moderns”—ancient poetry, ancient culture, ancient melodies as the three ancients. In every lyric, you can trace the imprint of classical poetry, and with Vincent Fang’s masterful pen, the words feel perfectly natural.

In the arrangement, classical instruments are always present—sometimes even introduced in the prelude—so the listener immediately knows they’re hearing a Chinese-style song.

The three moderns are new vocal techniques, new arrangements, and new concepts. The R&B style is a fresh vocal approach, and the arrangements skillfully balance classical and modern instruments, never suppressing the modern for the sake of tradition.

Of course, this assessment applies only to his Chinese-style songs. Yet, this innovative style has proven impossible for others to imitate. After all, Jay Chou and Vincent Fang are a golden pair; there may not be another lyricist and singer so perfectly attuned to one another in the entire entertainment world.

Xi Yuanyuan’s eyes shone. Even though Chen Fang hadn’t started on the vocals, just listening to the morning’s arrangements made it clear the song would be exceptional.

Stretching lazily, Chen Fang looked at her. “Let’s go.”

“Where to?” she asked, not checking the time.

Chen Fang hadn’t checked either, but he was hungry. “To eat, and take a break,” he replied, heading out of the recording studio.

Xi Yuanyuan got up to follow. Only then did they check the time and realize it was already past noon.

Seeing them leave together for lunch, the staff at Future Stardom took notice. Everyone knew that Xi Yuanyuan had never eaten alone with any of her artists before. Since Chen Fang’s arrival, though, it seemed her old rules were falling away, one after another.

A handsome man and a beautiful woman—enough to make anyone envious.

But soon, whispers began, and many started to poke fun at Kang Zikai behind his back. Everyone in the company knew he had feelings for Xi Yuanyuan. To be honest, all the eligible men were interested in her, but Kang Zikai had the best shot, since she’d been his manager and they saw each other daily—who’s to say feelings wouldn’t grow over time?

Who could have predicted that after years of fruitless pining, he’d get nothing for his trouble? Meanwhile, Chen Fang, in just two weeks at the company, was already having lunch alone with her.

“A lapdog gets nothing in the end.”

“Truly pitiful.”

“Is he, though? No one forced him.”

“If Kang Zikai finds out about this, he’ll probably faint from anger.”

“By the way, where is he? Haven’t seen him all morning.”

...

The office buzzed with talk of Kang Zikai, and he became the punchline of the lunchtime conversations. The greatest value of a lapdog, it seemed, was to provide amusement for others.

Meanwhile—

Chen Fang and Xi Yuanyuan stepped out of the building.

“What do you want to eat?” Chen Fang asked her. He wasn’t picky—anything was fine—so he deferred to her tastes.

It had poured all day yesterday, but today the sky was clear and bright. The midday sun was almost blinding, making it hard to keep one’s eyes open. Unlike other women, who would hide under umbrellas for fear of tanning, Xi Yuanyuan merely frowned slightly and didn’t seem to care. “Let’s just go to the Rose Restaurant again.”

No. Too far.

Chen Fang refused outright. “Not there.”

He could eat for free at the Rose Restaurant, but it was too far from Future Stardom. By the time they got there and back, plus the meal itself, half the afternoon would be gone. For a simple lunch, it just wasn’t worth it.

Hearing this, Xi Yuanyuan could only sigh. Chen Fang was the first man to turn down one of her suggestions.

The Rose Restaurant was not just any place; those who knew, understood its reputation. Xi Yuanyuan was already dropping hints, but Chen Fang wasn’t taking the bait.

“Then where should we eat?” she asked. Unfamiliar with the restaurants nearby, she usually drove home for lunch when she had time, or had her family’s housekeeper bring food to the office when she was busy. Out on the street, she was at a loss.

Chen Fang didn’t know either.

So they wandered aimlessly around the neighborhood and eventually picked a small steakhouse with few customers.

“This looks good,” he said. “Cheap and generous portions.”

Chen Fang was satisfied. He would have liked something fancier, but with only a few thousand yuan in his account and a company debt of five million, thrift was the only option.

Xi Yuanyuan, though a wealthy heiress, wasn’t a picky eater. She assumed Chen Fang was just used to being poor and afraid to spend, so she went along with his preference. “Chen Fang, what kind of girls do you like?”

Girls? He almost wanted to say he liked women—especially mature women with lingering charm—but of course, he couldn’t say that to her.

“Why do you ask?” Chen Fang sipped his water.

Xi Yuanyuan pretended it was a casual question. “No reason. You’re so handsome—it just seems like a lot of girls would like you. I wanted to remind you to be careful.”

Well, well! Is she worried about me messing around with fans…