Chapter 98: Because He Is Zhou Yi

“Welcome, welcome, nice to meet you.”

Luo Zhixiang, whether genuinely outgoing or feigning familiarity, immediately extended his hand to greet the two warmly; beside Zhou Jie, Xu Ruoxuan stood at the peak of her beauty, smiling sweetly, causing Sun Yanzi and Zhou Yi to both feel a flicker of surprise.

This is interesting—are they a couple?

Sun Yanzi, sensing the subtle chemistry between Zhou Jie and Xu Ruoxuan, instantly grew curious, while Zhou Yi raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting between the two.

If I remember correctly, Xu Ruoxuan didn’t just write several songs for Zhou Jie—she even starred as the female lead in his “Cute Girl” music video.

In his past life, he’d heard rumors about Zhou Jie and Xu Ruoxuan’s romance—the story of a rookie musician falling for a heartbreaker.

But wait—was Xu Ruoxuan dating someone at this time or not?

“I can’t play basketball—I’ll just watch you guys from the sidelines and handle drinks,” Sun Yanzi, who’d only come out to slack off, volunteered for the role of beverage manager.

The paparazzi who’d been secretly tailing Zhou Jie never expected such a windfall today; he quickly raised his camera and snapped away, capturing the scene of Sun Yanzi and Xu Ruoxuan sitting on the sidelines watching the men play.

Especially after Zhou Yi nailed several elegant three-pointers, Sun Yanzi on the sidelines grew excited as if it were her own victory, even whistling.

Whether because of a girl he liked watching or some other reason, Zhou Jie was in phenomenal form today; Liu Genghong, usually the superior player, seemed off his game, repeatedly getting outplayed by Zhou Jie, making Zhou Yi, his teammate, wince in discomfort.

Zhou Yi, no longer relying on his graceful dribbling, transformed into a stationary center, focusing solely on shooting threes.

The two entertainment stars were trading blows, leaving Luo Zhixiang and Liu Genghong—the “blue-collar” players stuck doing the dirty work—exhausted.

By the end of the custom game, both were drenched in sweat and gasping for breath.

“Not bad, Zhou Yi—your three-pointers were way sharper today. Did you secretly practice?” Zhou Jie, sipping the mineral water Xu Ruoxuan handed him, wiped his sweat and teased.

“You should be grateful basketball doesn’t let you kick it—you’d get crushed.”

Taking the water bottle from Sun Yanzi, Zhou Yi, feeling his soaked jersey cling uncomfortably, simply pulled off his shirt, revealing his sculpted, muscular physique.

The perfect embodiment of “clothes make you look slim, bare skin shows muscle.”

Sun Yanzi, standing directly opposite, had just handed him the water and towel when her eyes involuntarily flickered downward; her fingers, as they dropped, instinctively twitched toward his chest muscle—but she snapped back to herself and pulled her hand away.

Liu Genghong, a fitness enthusiast, stared with wide, glittering eyes: “Zhou Yi, your physique is insane—you could literally play a Greek statue and not need makeup.”

Zhou Jie, still a slim young man, glanced at his own arms, then at Zhou Yi, a hint of envy in his eyes: “How’d you get this body?”

“Drink more milk tea, exercise more.”

Zhou Yi grinned wickedly as he wiped his mouth, revealing his secret formula.

Liu Genghong: “...”

Luo Zhixiang: “...”

Zhou Jie blinked in surprise: “Drink more milk tea? Seriously?”

“You’d believe me if I said I’ll win next year’s Golden Melody Award for Best Female Singer before you believe him,” Sun Yanzi sneered, her lips curling in disdain—this guy’s ten words were eight lies.

“Your album’s been a smash this year—you might actually win Best Female Singer next year,” Xu Ruoxuan said with a hand over her mouth, smiling; though the compliment was polite, Sun Yanzi’s smile brightened genuinely.

After all, no one truly turns down the title of Golden Melody Award for Best Female Singer.

“Speaking of the Golden Melody Awards, Zhou Yi, all those reports claiming I provoked you are fake—I never slandered you.”

“Of course not—if you’d actually slandered me, I wouldn’t be standing here, my lawyer would.”

Zhou Yi chuckled, knowing full well this game had been arranged by Zhou Jie to clear up any misunderstanding—otherwise, why would he have shown up?

Seeing Zhou Yi understood his intent, Zhou Jie brushed back his sweat-dampened hair and chuckled: “I don’t have much of a chance this time, but I won’t stand still.”

“My second album—I’m sure I’ll make a name for myself on the mainland. Watch out, your throne might not be safe.”

Zhou Jie, fully aware of Zhou Yi’s situation, deliberately avoided Taiwan and set his sights on the mainland market.

The success of his first album had ignited Zhou Jie’s musical ambition; to surpass his friend, who’d already topped the mainland charts, he had to focus squarely on the mainland.

Zhou Yi smiled and nodded: “Fine, so confident—when’s your new album coming out?”

“The company’s set it for September.”

“Then you’re out of luck—my album drops in June.”

Zhou Yi wasn’t worried at all.

Yes, “Double-Jointed Stick” was popular—but he was unleashing “Jiangnan,” a song that could rival “Seven Mile Fragrance.”

And “Double-Jointed Stick” only appealed to the young; “Jiangnan” won over everyone, young and old.

“Then let’s wait and see.”

Facing Zhou Yi’s calm demeanor, Zhou Jie’s smile shone brilliantly.

Then, the next day, he stopped smiling—

“Zhou-Yi and Zhou-Jie Romance Exposed?! Zhou Yi with Sun Yanzi, Zhou Jie with Xu Ruoxuan!”

“Are Warner’s Twin Stars Really Dating?!”

“Exclusive Report: Inside Scoop! Twin Stars Shine in Love and Career!”

“Did Xu Ruoxuan Cheat on Zhou Jie?!”

“Sun Yanzi Steals the Show—What About Xiao Yaxuan?!”

“...”

Zhou Jie was utterly stunned.

He’d specifically chosen that basketball court to escape the paparazzi who’d been dogging him since his rise to fame.

How did they find it?!

Instinctively, Zhou Jie called Xu Ruoxuan, Zhou Yi, and Sun Yanzi one by one to apologize.

He knew the paparazzo who first published the court photos—he was one of the few who’d been following him for years.

Zhou Yi, meanwhile, was filming a Coca-Cola commercial and didn’t care much—he casually asked Sun Yanzi about it; she just laughed carefree.

“Zhou Yi dating? What’s that got to do with me? Did you guys get the wrong person? We’re not dating—we’re just friends, like him and Elva.”

Xiao Yaxuan, attending a promotional event, was also asked about Zhou Yi’s alleged affair with Sun Yanzi; she happily joined the gossip: “Both Yanzi and Zhou Yi are my friends—I haven’t heard they’re dating.”

This was absurd.

Where did the rumor about Sun Yanzi dating Zhou Yi even come from?

Coca-Cola executives filming Zhou Yi’s commercial were nearly laughing themselves sick.

Zhou Yi was already hot—now he was tangled up with the other half of Warner’s “Twin Stars.” Signing one guy got them the buzz of two—total win.

“Check if Sun Yanzi has a beverage endorsement—if not, sign her for Sprite.”

After studying the “Twin Stars” trajectory, Coca-Cola China’s executives suddenly saw the opportunity and began probing the possibility of signing Sun Yanzi.

If it worked—Coca-Cola on the left with Zhou Yi, Sprite on the right with Yanzi—wouldn’t that just take off?

Because of this explosive “photo evidence,” Sun Yanzi handing Zhou Yi water and a towel—and especially Zhou Yi’s half-naked torso—spread like a hurricane across Taiwan at unprecedented speed, even radiating to Hong Kong and the mainland.

Female fans praised the paparazzo’s photography skills, thanking him for capturing that half-naked photo to serve Zhou Yi’s fanbase.

“Zhou Yi and I are not dating—we’re just good friends. Just like him and Elva—good friends.”

Three days later, at her album signing event, facing reporters’ questions, Sun Yanzi could no longer laugh carefree—she reluctantly explained.

Zhou Yi, unfairly saddled with this scandal, felt deeply wronged: “We’re truly just friends—she just happened to drop by the court sometimes.”

By April, the entire Taiwan—and indeed the whole domestic entertainment industry—was dominated by the “Warner Twin Stars” dating rumors.

Finally seeing fresh news about Zhou Yi, and such explosive news at that, his fans’ outcry drowned out all other artists’ promotional efforts.

Qiong Yao’s daughter-in-law, who’d just released promotional material for “Love in a Rainy Season” scheduled for April release, found her campaign crushed under the weight of the “Twin Stars” romance hype.

It was the same familiar office, the same familiar manager with the slicked-back hair.

The man slammed his pen down, glaring at the newspaper headline featuring Zhou Yi, who kept interfering with company business: “Just a few ambiguous photos—why is the storm this big?!”

He Qiuqiong could only sigh and pinch the bridge of her nose: “There’s nothing we can do—because he’s Zhou Yi.”

Because of this sudden “storm,” Zhou Yi, who hadn’t been in Taiwan for a long time, instantly returned to the front pages of every entertainment paper.

What the hell is going on!

Coca-Cola officially announced that Zhou Yi’s commercial would premiere on April 12, along with his latest photo shoot and posters.

“Zhou Yi’s new song for Coca-Cola, ‘Sad People Don’t Listen to Slow Songs,’ is a departure from his usual style—he embodies our new brand image with a younger, more pop-oriented approach...”

Most importantly, at Coca-Cola’s press conference, Zhou Yi himself confirmed the ad song would not be included in his second album, due out in June.

Fans who wanted to hear it would have to either hear it on repeat on the radio or watch the commercial.

(End of Chapter)