She Said She Has Feelings For Someone - Chapter 7

Chapter 7 · Darts: “I Don’t Remember”

The first two segments were relatively simple, but the difficulty ramped up starting with the third. The guests were required to split into two teams: one to “find the differences” and the other to “step on squares.”

Given their previous performance in the puzzle segment, combined with the need for quick reflexes in the square-stepping task, Luo Han, He Wenyin, and Tang Jiahe were assigned to find the differences, while Xia Leshuang, Zhong Wen, and Jiang Fei took on the square board.

The board was a ten-by-ten grid, with each square measuring twenty-five centimeters—just enough for one person to stand on. Squares would light up at random, and the guests had to step on them, maintaining their balance until the “find the differences” team finished their task.

The three girls took off their shoes and stepped onto the board. Once Luo Han found the first difference, a large six-by-six block lit up in the center. It started easily enough, but as the pace of finding differences slowed, the rate at which the squares switched accelerated.

“Chen Qian,” Lu Shuyu said, focusing on the monitor, “switch to the wide shot.”

Chen Qian, following on the field, didn’t reply but instantly adjusted to a wide angle, capturing the exact moment Xia Leshuang scooped up both Zhong Wen and Jiang Fei in her arms to stand together on a single square.

“Ugh—” Jiang Fei was terrified to even breathe, fearing that any sudden movement would make Xia Leshuang lose her grip.

“Chen Qian,” Lu Shuyu prompted again from behind the monitor, “close-up.”

Chen Qian understood perfectly.

The camera zoomed in, focusing on Xia Leshuang’s arms wrapped firmly around the waists of the other two, and the wide-eyed, breathless expressions of Zhong Wen and Jiang Fei as they clung to Xia Leshuang’s shoulders.

Chi Shan praised, “Great catch!”

“Found it!” He Wenyin found the final difference, completing the segment.

“Oh my god,” Tang Jiahe marveled. “Leshuang, the muscle lines on your forearms…”

The Jin Jin Tuan group uniform consisted of long-sleeved light sweatshirts. Having recorded for so long, several of them had rolled up their sleeves, perfectly revealing the toned lines of Xia Leshuang’s arms as she held the two women.

Jiang Fei and Zhong Wen immediately let go of Xia Leshuang and collapsed half-prone on the ground, gasping for air.

Tang Jiahe walked over, grabbing Xia Leshuang’s arm to inspect it. Luo Han chuckled as she and He Wenyin helped the other two up. “Jiahe cares more about the muscles than you two right now.”

“As she should…” Zhong Wen panted. “I’m willing to worship the Great Leshuang as a god…”

Heaven knows how shocked she had been the moment she was swept off her feet by Xia Leshuang.

Jiang Fei agreed, nodding repeatedly. “I think I need to start working out too. I’ll strive to be like Shuang-shuang!”

Xia Leshuang didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Sure, you’re welcome to come learn Muay Thai with me.”

Tang Jiahe let go of her arm. “That’s probably not necessary.”

…

After several rounds of physical and mental exhaustion, the fourth segment was clearly designed for relaxation. After reading the rules, Tang Jiahe noted, “Out of thirty cups, ten are vinegar.”

“There are six of us. If we each drink one, the probability of success is pretty high.”

“Exactly,” Zhong Wen nodded. “PD Lu drank six cups by herself. There’s no way the six of us can’t beat her record, right?”

Hearing this, Xia Leshuang chuckled softly. “That’s not a guarantee.”

Behind the monitor, Chi Shan heard this and glanced sideways; Lu Shuyu had no reaction. On screen, Jiang Fei asked curiously, “Shuang-shuang, why do you say that?”

A subtle change crossed Xia Leshuang’s face, but Jiang Fei felt that her smile just now was a genuine, relaxed one from the heart.

“Some people just have bad luck,” Xia Leshuang pursed her lips. “The kind where they hit a landmine every single time.”

“Ah…” Just as Jiang Fei reacted, Luo Han raised her hand. “That might be me. I have terrible luck.”

In the first round, led by Xia Leshuang, He Wenyin, Tang Jiahe, and Zhong Wen all passed safely. That is, until it was Luo Han’s turn. Although she tried her best to hide it, her instantly reddening eyes betrayed her.

“Pfft…” Jiang Fei burst out laughing.

“W-what?” Luo Han blinked innocently, refusing to give in. “I… I’m drinking lemonade.”

“Sister,” Tang Jiahe handed her a glass of plain water. “Your tongue is practically tied from the sourness. Hurry, rinse your mouth.”

“Challenge failed.”

The staff quickly set up the second round. After some discussion, they suggested Luo Han go first to increase the overall success rate. As expected, Luo Han did not disappoint—her eyes turned red again as she said with pure sincerity, “L-lemonade.”

Jiang Fei hugged her, laughing uncontrollably. Zhong Wen, unable to believe it, took the cup from Luo Han’s hand and gave it a sniff. Sure enough, the pungent scent of white vinegar wafted out.

“Gah—” She let out a reflexive gagging sound before quickly adding, “Sorry.”

“It’s my personal problem, not the vinegar’s fault,” she clarified to the camera, her sincerity visible to the heavens.

Everyone around her was laughing. Luo Han was caught between crying and laughing herself; the scene was both hilarious and pitiful.

They tried two more rounds with Luo Han at the end, but they all ended in failure. Zhong Wen had the strongest reaction to the vinegar, looking quite disheveled. Soon, the entire area smelled of vinegar, and the crew members couldn’t help but put on masks.

Chi Shan couldn’t take it either. “Are they going to finish a whole bottle of vinegar before they pass this?”

“They’re almost there,” Lu Shuyu said softly.

Before Chi Shan could ask why, Xia Leshuang suddenly spoke up on set. “Wenyin, have you managed to avoid the vinegar every time?”

In the last two rounds, everyone had tried a cup out of curiosity, which was why the smell was everywhere.

“Yes,” He Wenyin nodded. “I think I can tell the difference.”

“Really?” Zhong Wen looked over immediately as if seeing a lifesaver. “Wenyin, can you try picking them?”

“I’ll try.”

With that, He Wenyin selected a cup, looked at it, smelled it, and then took a sip. “Lemonade.”

“Wow,” Jiang Fei was stunned. She grabbed another cup and handed it over. “What about this one?”

He Wenyin took it, gave it a single sniff, and said, “Vinegar.”

Jiang Fei opened the lid and was immediately jolted by the sharp scent.

Seeing this, Tang Jiahe proposed, “PD Song! I suggest we let Wenyin challenge this segment alone!”

“Accepted,” PD Song agreed. “You don’t even have to drink it; just smelling is fine.”

On camera, He Wenyin was calm and serious. There was a certain professional air in the way she observed and sniffed the cups.

Zhong Wen couldn’t help but remark, “Wenyin looks like a traditional Chinese medicine practitioner.”

He Wenyin smiled and picked out the sixth cup of lemonade. “Done.”

After verification, Song Yi clapped. “Congratulations to the six of you for passing the fourth stage. Please move to the next.”

…

The fifth stage was a foam wall featuring thirty balloons, each containing a slip of paper with a question. Each person had to hit a balloon to retrieve a question; answering six correctly would clear the stage.

In Lu Shuyu’s teaser video, this segment only showed eighteen darts hitting their marks with 100% accuracy, so the guests had no idea what the questions would be.

“Since this is a team effort for Jin Jin Tuan,” Song Yi explained, “the questions are, of course, related to all of you. The answering time won’t be counted against the clock, and you can answer together.”

“We’re being very lenient,” she added with a gentle smile that carried a hint of mischief.

Zhong Wen grew wary. “It better not be about things we said in interviews years ago. I won’t remember those…”

Song Yi kept smiling. “Shall we begin?”

They thought the hard part would be the questions, but they hadn’t realized that popping the balloons with darts required actual skill.

As the first to step up, Zhong Wen was full of confidence facing the wall of balloons. However, when she threw the dart, the sound didn’t come from the wall—it came from the cameraman behind her.

She turned around in horror. “What happened? Where did I hit?”

Compared to the chaos on field, Lu Shuyu and Chi Shan saw it clearly on the monitors. The dart had slipped out of Zhong Wen’s hand during her backswing, flying backward toward a fixed camera position. The “noise” she heard wasn’t an impact, but the surprised laughter of the camera crew who witnessed it.

Lu Shuyu suggested, “You can hold your arm higher and use the strength in your wrist to throw.”

Zhong Wen was so embarrassed she wanted to disappear into the floor. She didn’t quite catch what Lu Shuyu meant and felt even more lost.

“PD Lu means you should raise your arm a bit higher.”

Xia Leshuang walked her back to the throwing line and took her hand. “Focus more on the wrist; don’t use such a long wind-up like you did just now.”

She taught seriously, and Zhong Wen listened intently. On screen, the two stood one behind the other, with the other four guests watching closely. The overall image was beautiful and warm.

“Assistant Director Chen is good,” Chi Shan praised. “She could go shoot idol dramas.”

Chen Qian didn’t respond, merely using the best composition and angles to record this moment.

“Hey, is Movie Queen Xia pretty good at darts?” Chi Shan asked. “She’s a good teacher.”

“Yeah,” Lu Shuyu replied subconsciously. “She knows how to do it herself, and she’s very good at teaching.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she felt Chi Shan’s burning gaze. Lu Shuyu remained calm on the surface, but her scalp was prickling.

“My best friend told me.”

“She was quite the gossip in high school.”

Chi Shan was half-convinced. “The same friend who writes fanfiction about the Movie Queen and Bian Xingyao?”

“Yes,” Lu Shuyu said without blinking. “That’s her.”

The guests finished their practice and started the timer after Song Yi’s signal. Chi Shan refocused on work, and Lu Shuyu finally felt the tension in her shoulders relax.

“Wow! Shuang-shuang is so cool!” Jiang Fei’s exclamation came through the monitor.

Lu Shuyu saw Xia Leshuang bend over with a smile, her long, elegant fingers casually plucking a question slip. Memories that had been interrupted earlier flooded back.

Back then, beneath Xia Leshuang’s bright and free-spirited exterior, there was an irrepressible streak of vanity and “middle-school” bravado (chuunibyou). Simply because Bian Xingyao once said, “Your hands are very pretty,” she insisted on showing off her ability to hit a bullseye while holding a dart between two fingers. She failed several times and nearly fractured a finger in the process.

“Someone nearly fractured their finger at sixteen trying to show off. Who was it?”

Xia Leshuang fell silent after reading the question. The others firmly denied it, and eventually, all eyes landed on her.

“Shuang-shuang!” Jiang Fei covered her face in shock. “It was you?”

“Oh my god,” Luo Han leaned in to look closer. “Leshuang, are you blushing?”

“What on earth happened,” Tang Jiahe was stunned, “to get this kind of reaction out of Leshuang?”

Xia Leshuang let out a laugh and a sigh, turning the slip toward the camera.

“It was me.”

“Because…”

She frowned slightly as if deep in thought. The others waited with bated breath for the rest of the story.

Then, she shook her head with a smile, her eyes shining bright. “I don’t remember.”