Chapter 3: The Premiere of the Dating Show

The day after Su Nian returned to her hotel, she received a call from the production team of “The Season of Heartbeats.” Already secretly prepared with all sorts of sports gear and high-intensity training equipment, Su Nian was caught completely off guard when she heard the words “dating show.” With a clatter, the phone slipped from her hand.

“Hello? Miss Su, are you listening? Please say yes if you agree, and if you don’t agree... please still say yes,” the director’s desperate voice shouted from the other end.

Su Nian was speechless.

What on earth was Comrade Su Senior thinking, sending her onto a dating show?

She’d thought, at worst, it would be a competition or adventure show, and if things were really grim, maybe a survival reality show on a deserted island. But a dating show? Sending someone who only had her career on her mind to chase KPIs through romance? Unbelievable.

She steadied herself, picked up her phone, and tried to reason amicably, “Director Yao, I get nervous just seeing men, and if I touch one, I faint. I really can’t do a dating show—”

“Oh, is that so…” the director replied.

“In that case, Miss Su, would you prefer self-destruction?”

Su Nian fell silent.

No wonder he was one of her father’s people—he had a sharp way of getting to the point.

After much deliberation, Su Nian gritted her teeth, closed her eyes, and nodded. “Alright, fine.”

After all, no one ever said you could only chase love on a dating show. Why not chase your career?

*

Three days later, under a clear blue sky, “The Season of Heartbeats” officially aired.

This season, the show adopted a 24-hour live broadcast alongside recorded highlights. Eight guests were officially announced; apart from one mysterious guest yet to appear, the other seven were fully prepared.

At eight o’clock sharp, the “Heartbeat Ride” cars arrived one by one at each guest’s doorstep, and the live feed split into seven screens. Fans could choose to watch all seven guests or focus solely on their favorite.

The moment the guests appeared, each fanbase began flooding the feeds with praise.

“Zifan, Zifan, your singing and dancing are extraordinary! Cen Zifan, mom supports you balancing love and career!”

“Our romance genius Sister Xia is out! No wonder she’s the C-position in the girl group—those comic book legs and that ant waist, swoon~”

“Emperor Chu’s physique, ahhh, I’m literally a screaming marmot, I want to reach through the screen and touch those pecs!”

…

Every livestream, a chorus of creative compliments for each idol.

Except for Su Nian’s channel, where only a few curious spectators lingered.

“Wow, Su Nian? Isn’t this lady already faded from the spotlight? She hasn’t had any schedules for half a year.”

“Haven’t you seen yesterday’s trending topics? She broke up with Li Ming’en. From the way Li Ming’en posted, it sounds like Su Nian was the one at fault.”

“No way, did LMN get cheated on by SN? Can’t be. Back then, she groveled for LMN so hard her agent landed in the hospital and terminated the contract, and her biggest fan even left the group in protest.”

“Who knows, maybe she ditched him after getting him.”

“Once treasured, now discarded—how pitiful.”

“Who are you calling trash? Su Nian isn’t good enough for our Ming’en!”

“I have to say, the show’s got guts—inviting both exes onto the same dating show. Are they expecting fireworks?”

“Look, look, Su Nian’s out—wait, what is she wearing, a suit?”

Every year, dating shows are ostensibly about watching celebrities find love and indulging in CP moments. In reality, from the moment they appear on screen, the stars treat it as their own private runway. They flaunt their figures, their outfits, their sense of style—every piece, down to the accessories, is carefully chosen to make the hot searches.

So the other six guests went to great lengths over their first impression outfits. Only Su Nian showed up in a mint-green suit over a white shirt, a notebook in one arm, a suitcase in the other—looking less like she’d come to fall in love, and more like she was headed to a business meeting.

“LOL, did Su Nian go to the wrong studio? She belongs on a workplace show next door.”

“Um… OL style for a dating show? Sorry, I just can’t appreciate it. Is she trying to get attention?”

Netizens guessed right—Su Nian was trying to get attention. But not to attract any potential partners. She was sending a warning: I’m here for work, stay away.

After boarding the Heartbeat Car, the show’s host began interviewing Su Nian. This season’s new interactive segment started with questions designed to give the audience a first impression of each guest’s views on love. The answers would also be entered into a “heartbeat selection pool,” where, after all the interviews, the guests could anonymously choose “question cards” from those they found intriguing and send an invitation.

The questioning began. Su Nian sat up straight, fully in interview mode. Her professional demeanor and aura made even the host nervous.

“Miss Su, no need to be so serious. Let’s just have a casual chat,” the host said with a professional smile, while secretly wondering how Su Nian could have such a powerful presence—she almost felt like she was interviewing a Fortune 500 CEO.

“Miss Su, what kind of partner do you prefer?”

Su Nian froze, looking blank.

Type? She didn’t even know what types there were.

“Alive, male, with two legs.”

When Su Nian, after serious thought, gave this answer, the host was left speechless.

“Could you be more specific?”

“For example?” Su Nian asked.

In her eyes, all men could be summed up by those three traits. She had no other memorable preferences.

“For instance: sunny and handsome? Gentle and considerate? Successful in their career?”

“Wait—successful in their career? How successful? What’s their IQ? Annual income? Company assets?”

“Uh…” The host was once again thrown off by Su Nian’s questions.

“If his intelligence is lower than mine, no; if his salary is less than mine, no; if his abilities are weaker than mine, no!” Su Nian declared.

The only people she admired were those stronger than herself, regardless of gender.

But her string of “no”s ignited a storm of criticism online.

“Does Su Nian have delusions of grandeur? Acting like she’s a company VP—IQ, salary, ability—does she even meet her own standards these days?”

“She finally got a job and went completely off the rails.”

“I used to think only men had inflated egos. Su Nian just showed me what an egotistical woman looks like.”

The host, in ten years of her career, had never encountered such a workplace defeat—her mind went blank from Su Nian’s answers. After a long while, she managed to switch topics.

“Between family, career, love, and freedom, how would you rank them, Miss Su?”

“Career,” Su Nian replied without hesitation.

After answering, she simply looked at the host, saying nothing more.

The host thought she was mulling it over and waited. But when Su Nian said nothing else, she prompted, “Miss Su, what about the other three?”

“Delete them.”

If you choose career, freedom is already out of the question. As for love and family, romance and marriage were never mandatory on her life’s list.

Once again, the host was KO’d.

If Su Nian hadn’t spoken so sincerely, the host would have suspected she was a saboteur sent by the rival network.

Taking a deep breath, the host moved to the final question.

“If your ex wanted to get back together, what would you do?”