When one person stepped forward as a witness, the audience erupted instantly.
Someone had actually proven that Gu Zhaoping had never studied jiu-jitsu!
Had she just been bluffing all along? Even if she wanted to exaggerate, shouldn’t she at least pick something she had some basic experience in? How could she just claim to be an expert out of thin air?
Wasn’t this way too easy to expose?
But some people are the type who can lie without batting an eye. Sometimes, they might deceive so many that they even fool themselves—maybe she genuinely believed she was skilled.
The image Gu Zhaoping had been projecting might have been convincing, but that didn’t necessarily mean she was as composed and intelligent as she appeared.
Seeing this news, one blogger suddenly got excited.
He immediately tagged the show’s official account:
【If Miss Gu is so good at jiu-jitsu, how about a friendly sparring match? I’d love to see what level she’s at. If she never practiced during college, then at most, she’s only been training for a few years after graduation. I’d love to witness such a genius in action.】
【I’m also in Haishi—how convenient!】
The person posting this was a martial arts blogger named Tan's Dojo. He regularly uploaded instructional videos and had built a decent following online, with many beginners learning from him to refine their techniques and correct their form.
Though he came off as a bit arrogant, his teaching skills were solid. Because he loved nitpicking others’ movements and pointing out flaws, he’d earned the nickname "Coach Tan."
International chess? Astronomy and archaeology? He didn’t know anything about those—no clue what level she might be at there.
But jiu-jitsu? That was his bread and butter. If someone was making outrageous claims within his field of expertise, he couldn’t just sit back and ignore it.
As soon as this blogger publicly challenged Gu Zhaoping, crowds flocked to his page to follow and watch the drama unfold.
【Following. Waiting for updates.】
【Haven’t seen this kind of drama in a while—an actual professional calling out Gu Zhaoping? Do you think she’ll ignore it or actually respond?】
【She’ll probably pretend she never saw it. Let’s be real, this blogger is a legit jiu-jitsu expert, a well-known coach online. Even if Gu Zhaoping knows a little, how could she possibly compete? They’re not even in the same league.】
【Lol, exactly. People say Brazilian jiu-jitsu is the most practical self-defense for women, but let me tell you, the only real self-defense for women is running! Under absolute strength disparity, there’s no room for technique. You think you can lock someone down? A big guy can just yank you to the ground with one tug. You try to choke him? One roll and he snaps your arm.】
【……】
【Just speculating here, but logically, Gu Zhaoping might’ve actually learned some jiu-jitsu. It doesn’t take long to pick up the basics—a few classes and you can say you “know” it. Even if she trained for half a year or a year and knows some common moves, that doesn’t mean she can take on a pro.】
【Honestly, shows like this are all about flaunting the elite image. It’s normal for her to exaggerate a little—no need to be so harsh. If she knows a couple moves, then she knows them. Why test her like this?】
【She’s the one who claimed to be proficient in everything. We’re just curious to see how “proficient” she really is. If she’s not, then she shouldn’t oversell herself. If everyone did this, then I could call myself a top-tier hacker just because I can play games on my computer.】
【Let the blogger test her. He’s a coach—he knows how to hold back. Even if they spar, he won’t hurt her. At most, he’ll just gauge her actual skill level.】
【The show has an extreme sports segment later. If Gu Zhaoping lied about her physical ability and they misjudge her limits when assigning challenges, the consequences could be disastrous.】
【Yeah, worst case, she just gets humiliated.】
The crowd’s reactions were mixed.
Some were gleeful.
Some were eager to see the jiu-jitsu coach challenge Gu Zhaoping.
Others were hesitant, unsure whether she really knew jiu-jitsu or not.
Chu Yanze had been recording in the studio all day and only just saw the news about the show’s premiere and the heated online discussions.
He opened Weibo and frowned.
A wave of frustration rose in his chest.
In other contestants’ self-introductions, there were also some exaggerated claims. Normally, as long as someone had a basic grasp of a skill and could present it decently, no one would nitpick.
But the public was being unusually harsh on Gu Zhaoping, as if she had to be an expert-level practitioner before she could even claim to be “skilled” at something.
Chu Yanze didn’t understand. Countless people described themselves as “skilled” in instruments, sports, or hobbies in their self-introductions.
Did every single one of them have to be at a professional level before they could confidently say they were good at something?
Why were the standards so much higher for her? Why the cruelty?
What kind of nonsense was this?
Chu Yanze felt deeply unsettled. Almost without thinking, he started drafting a post to defend Gu Zhaoping. But halfway through, his fingers paused. He tapped the backspace key twice, then switched to WeChat to message her privately.
【Zhaoping, do you want to manage the post-show backlash?】
He shouldn’t act on his own.
In that moment of hesitation, Chu Yanze suddenly realized—this might still be tied to Ruan Nian.
Because Ruan Nian was too well-liked, too popular. Everyone indulged her unconditionally, trusted her without question.
So anyone who opposed her was inherently in the wrong—Gu Zhaoping included.
The public’s baseline impression of Gu Zhaoping was already rock-bottom. She had to deliver 100% just to earn 60% approval.
If she only met the bare minimum, it was as good as nothing—or worse.
She was climbing out from the very lowest pit.
Gu Zhaoping didn’t reply immediately. After a long pause, Chu Yanze carefully edited another message, his tone almost cautious:
"Ruan Nian's popularity is too high right now, and many people still view her through a biased lens. So when the show first airs, public opinion might be influenced by this prejudice. But I believe your actions and the charisma you embody through your conduct will ensure this bias doesn’t last long. Let’s wait and see together."
Ever since realizing there was something unsettling about Ruan Nian, Chu Yanze had consciously avoided her.
He watched coldly as those who opposed Ruan Nian spiraled into ruin, left with no way out, while Ruan Nian herself never suffered a single setback—only gaining more and more.
...The more he saw, the more convinced he became that there was something unnatural about her.
The entertainment industry was rife with rumors about people keeping dark spiritual companions, but Chu Yanze had never believed in such things. Yet Ruan Nian was the only one who made him seriously wonder if such witchcraft truly existed.
He took a deep breath, though Gu Zhaoping still hadn’t replied to him.
"Yanze, come listen to the recording again," his manager called out. Chu Yanze lifted his gaze from his phone, turned his head, and responded, "Got it," before slipping his phone away.
Gu Zhaoping wasn’t the type to check messages constantly.
When busy, she only paid attention to urgent matters—and those usually warranted a direct phone call. So she wasn’t worried about missing anything truly important.
As for the latest gossip online? She hadn’t even glanced at it, nor did she care.
Even when close acquaintances reached out, concerned about how the rumors might affect her, their messages went unanswered—buried under her workload.
The only call she took tonight was from Coach Gao.
"Client, I have an awkward request—could I take a leave from tomorrow’s training session?"
Coach Gao was sweating. Asking for time off after just two sessions would surely make him seem unprofessional in the eyes of a high-profile client like her. But he was usually a dedicated professional—this was just an unavoidable issue he had to deal with.
In fact, if not for this problem, he wouldn’t have resorted to taking on private coaching gigs in the first place.
Just then, a clamor erupted behind him—shouting, the sound of things being thrown, complete chaos.
Gu Zhaoping nodded, the tip of her pen tapping lightly against the paper. "What’s the matter?"
It was her habitual question when approving leave requests as a leader. Coach Gao paused at the familiar tone, then glanced back at the arguing crowd behind him. Covering the receiver, he hurried a few steps away to a quieter spot.
"Ahem, sorry about that, Miss Gu. It’s… a family dojo issue."
He felt even more embarrassed now. A stubborn, self-reliant man by nature, he never imagined he’d end up confiding his troubles to a client he’d only met a handful of times.
"My family has practiced jujitsu for generations. My father was a jujitsu coach, but in recent years, dojos haven’t been doing well. Fewer people are learning, and the place where he taught was on the verge of shutting down. He couldn’t bear to see it go, so after some negotiations, he took it over and reopened it."
"The original owner had handed the dojo to his son—one of my dad’s former students—so the transition went smoothly."
The noise inside grew louder. Coach Gao wiped the sweat from his brow, stepping even further away.
"But just as my dad managed to attract new clients through online promotions—lots of young women signing up for self-defense classes—business was finally picking up. Then the previous owner suddenly claimed the dojo’s success was only because of its established reputation and prime location. He said the rent they’d agreed on was too low and now demanded they either buy the place outright or vacate immediately. If they kept operating, he’d send people to cause trouble..."
Coach Gao stared at the discarded "Tan's Dojo" sign lying in the hallway, his head throbbing.
The original owner’s son was a brute—somewhat internet-famous, too, and utterly unreasonable.
But at the end of the day, the property was theirs. If they refused to rent it out, there was nothing his family could do.
This was peak season, right before the holidays when enrollment would surge.
His family had already poured all their savings into reviving the dojo. Without the new tuition fees coming in, they couldn’t afford to relocate.
Coach Gao had been away competing when he heard the news and rushed back immediately. With no other options, he’d swallowed his pride and asked a friend to hook him up with private coaching gigs.
Gu Zhaoping paused, her pen leaving a small ink blot on the paper. She hadn’t spoken yet.
Only after venting did Coach Gao realize he’d overshared. "Ah, client, I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean to dump all this on you. I’ll handle it ASAP and get back to training!"
"No rush," Gu Zhaoping said.
She signed the last document, capped her pen, and said, "Where’s the dojo? I’ll visit tomorrow."
Coach Gao froze.
What? Wait—Miss Gu wanted to visit the dojo?
That didn’t make sense! She had a massive home gym—big enough for jujitsu, or even a 10,000-step walk.
"How much to take over the dojo?" she asked, checking her schedule as she prepared to leave.
Coach Gao was still processing. "Uh… around six million?"
More reasonable than she’d expected. "Fine."
"Send me the address. I’ll inspect it tomorrow."
Coach Gao was baffled. "Huh? Wait—Miss Gu, are you… interested in joining classes?"
That couldn’t be it!
"I’m considering buying it," Gu Zhaoping said flatly, slipping on her coat and leaving the office. "Be there on time tomorrow."
The call ended, leaving Coach Gao utterly stunned.
Phone still in hand, he turned back toward the chaos inside. The Tan faction was still arguing, with Tan Li pointing arrogantly at his father.
"Listen up—tomorrow’s the deadline! If you can’t pay to buy this place outright, I’ll have you thrown out!"
"Your lease was supposed to end this month anyway. I don’t want to rent anymore—I only want to sell the property. What’s so unreasonable about that? How dare you call me a scoundrel? If you can’t afford it, then you shouldn’t be renting in the first place!"
Tan Li sneered, shaking off the hand gripping his arm before turning and walking away.
Today had been a triumph online, and tomorrow he’d finally evict this family and reclaim his dojo. Everything was falling perfectly into place.
He laughed heartily, savoring the moment.
Coach Gao glanced at his phone again, a sudden certainty settling over him—tomorrow was going to be quite the spectacle.
His heart raced with anticipation.
Gu Zhaoping got into her car and headed home, in no rush to check her unread messages just yet.
She had gathered some information about the jiu-jitsu dojo. Following the address Coach Gao provided, she looked into the area and found it quite promising. Though not in the city center, it was well-connected by subway and public transport.
The neighborhood boasted shopping districts, large residential complexes, and a growing number of startups—a hub for young professionals, where interest in jiu-jitsu would likely be higher.
Coach Gao, seemingly anxious that Gu Zhaoping might get shortchanged, promptly sent over detailed photos of every corner of the facility, leaving nothing out.
From the locker rooms and equipment storage to the office, even close-ups of the pristine flooring—all recently renovated after they took over last year.
Finally, he forwarded the enrollment records, his tone a mix of earnest enthusiasm and vague unease: "Ms. Gu, these are our student registrations. We’re not going to disappear—once we collect the new batch of tuition fees after the break, we’ll have the funds to keep operating. It’s all been calculated."
After a pause, Gu Zhaoping replied with just one word: "Mm."
She had long considered taking over a dojo—partly for her own training, partly to secure reliable sparring partners.
Good partners were hard to come by. Someone like Coach Gao, who could throw her so effortlessly, was a rare find.
There was another reason she hadn’t mentioned to him: in her past life, Gu Zhaoping had a highly skilled female bodyguard who’d emerged from her jiu-jitsu dojo.
Perhaps she could scout for talent here too.
Even setting aside business motives, investing in her passion and needs felt worthwhile.
Once home, she finally checked her messages.
First was Zheng Anling from the production team: "Ms. Gu, we’d like to film your day-in-the-life vlog tomorrow. Is that alright?"
Gu Zhaoping recalled that Luxury Seasons included a segment showcasing the cast’s daily routines. She agreed without hesitation.
Then she saw Chu Yanze’s message.
It gave her pause: "What rumors?"
