The screen flashed with the words "Spring Day," marking the end of the entertainment gossip blogger's exposé. The website automatically played the next entertainment video, featuring a juicy piece of recent celebrity gossip that Gu Zhaosi had been eagerly discussing with his friends—but now, he couldn’t care less.
Gritting his teeth against the sharp pain in his knee, he grabbed the remote and rewound to the previous video. Dragging the progress bar straight to the end, his face twisted into an expression of utter disgust the moment the photo popped up again.
Chu Yanze? It was really Chu Yanze?
That scheming, shameless, venomous bastard?!
Gu Zhaosi felt as if he’d been struck by lightning. After a long pause, he lifted a hand to his forehead, his head throbbing as if it might explode. This damn thesis was already eating up what little mental bandwidth he had, and now the world around him seemed to blur into overlapping layers of deception.
"Are you doing this on purpose?! Are you?!"
Gu Zhaosi was practically delirious. Back in university, Chu Yanze had been his academic rival—the two of them constantly vying for the top spot in their department. With so few Asians in their program, their striking faces made them easy targets for comparison.
Gu Zhaosi had never intended to compete with him. They weren’t even close—what was there to compare?
But who could’ve predicted that, in their freshman year, Chu Yanze would quietly drop his debut album, which then blew up both domestically and overseas, even earning him a minor award nomination?
The media in their home country latched onto the rising star, especially captivated by his looks. Fan clubs sprang up overnight, hailing him as a rare talent who could break into the international music scene.
"Not many musicians can make it abroad—this young man has real potential! We must protect this rising star so he can create more masterpieces!"
Meanwhile, his peers—Gu Zhaosi included—were still grinding away at coursework and thesis drafts. While they were stuck in the academic trenches, Chu Yanze was already being hailed as a prodigy.
Gu Zhaosi’s smile vanished on the spot.
What did Chu Yanze’s success have to do with him? But somehow, he’d ended up as collateral damage in the comparisons. Was it a crime to focus on school? Writing papers was hard enough without this nonsense!
It got worse. To hype up Chu Yanze’s achievements, his fans dug into the backgrounds and accomplishments of his classmates—and Gu Zhaosi was dragged into the spotlight as the benchmark for mediocrity.
What the hell was that supposed to mean?!
Gu Zhaosi was furious. He’d just been minding his own business—attending classes, traveling, snowboarding, racing cars. What had he ever done to deserve this?
Even worse, a distant relative—a diehard Chu Yanze fan—called him out of the blue just to ask if he could get her a signed album.
"Zhaosi, you really need to step it up. Look at your classmate—already so accomplished at this age! How’s your music coming along? Written any songs? Let me hear them!"
If Gu Zhaosi had to rank his most hated relatives, that fan-girl aunt would take the top spot, leaving Gu Zhaoye and Gu Zhaoping far behind.
Honestly, he wanted to slap every single one of them—especially that aunt, who deserved a full-on kung fu beatdown.
Later, Chu Yanze dropped out of school for reasons unknown. Gu Zhaosi, fueled by spite, assumed he’d gotten too big for his boots and ditched academia to chase fame and fortune back home. He scoffed at the thought.
Shallow and shortsighted. People like you always crash and burn.
With that conviction, Gu Zhaosi waited—three whole years.
…Except Chu Yanze didn’t crash. He only got bigger, blowing up overseas and cementing himself as a powerhouse in the domestic music scene. Now, he was even the subject of Gu Zhaosi’s thesis research.
Gu Zhaosi hadn’t even graduated yet, and Chu Yanze was already an "alumnus of distinction."
He wanted to die.
It wasn’t like he was some hyper-competitive, jealous type. But ever since Chu Yanze made it big, everyone used him as a measuring stick to put Gu Zhaosi down.
Relatives kept asking why he wasn’t famous yet.
Every single day of Chu Yanze’s rise to stardom, Gu Zhaosi quietly lost his mind.
And now? Now, Chu Yanze had apparently lost his damn mind too—because he was caught up in a scandal with Gu Zhaoping.
Gu Zhaoping?! You’re really out of your mind if you’re chasing her!
Gu Zhaosi had an equally terrible relationship with every member of his family. He hated them all with a passion, especially his siblings—each one worthy of a permanent block.
There was Gu Zhaoye, who strutted around like some CEO just because he inherited the family business, chasing after his so-called "first love" like the world owed him a tragic romance novel.
Then Gu Kaichang, the absolute clown who thought he was some master schemer, constantly trying—and failing—to sabotage Gu Zhaoye.
And Gu Yingjie? Yeah, he’d slap him too.
But the crown jewel of the Gu Family’s younger generation? That honor went to Gu Zhaoping—his eldest sister.
Her romantic history? Legendary.
Her personality? Unhinged.
Her sheer audacity? Gu Zhaosi had to tip his hat sometimes.
Not that he’d ever admit it. He wanted nothing to do with her—or any of the Gus, for that matter. The farther they stayed from him, the better. Ideally, none of them would even know where he was or how his studies were going.
—Of course, if it weren’t for the fact that he still relied on the Gu Family’s financial support, he’d have cut ties long ago. For now, he endured the humiliation, trudging forward under the weight of their expectations.
Chu Yanze, are you out of your mind?!
That was Gu Zhaosi’s first thought upon seeing the news.
Sure, his sister was rich, beautiful, and generous with her younger flings. But you’re actually going after her?!
Crouched on the couch, Gu Zhaosi felt the absurdity of the world crashing down on him. He ran through a million scenarios, wondering if Chu Yanze had some ulterior motive. After all, Gu Zhaoping’s name was so similar to his.
He’d never flaunted his connection to the Gu Family while they were in school together.
—They weren’t close, but what if Chu Yanze had somehow pieced it together? What if he’d sniffed out their relation and decided to pursue Gu Zhaoping just to one-up him in every possible way?
Gu Zhaosi’s expression darkened as he dissected Chu Yanze’s possible thought process.
After violently pummeling a pillow for a while, Gu Zhaosi finally picked up his phone and messaged his agent:
[Bro, maybe we should pivot back to the domestic market.]
The reply came instantly, as if the other side had been waiting for this very moment:
[You’ve finally come to your senses?!]
That’s right—Gu Zhaosi hadn’t been idle these past two years.
Gritting his teeth, fueled by sheer spite toward Chu Yanze, he had secretly signed with a record label under a pseudonym.
He had already debuted in the shadows.
Luck had been on his side.
Without leveraging any of the Gu Family’s connections, he had secured a deal purely on the merit of his academic background and work. The company had even produced an album for him.
His performance over these two years hadn’t been bad—there had been some ripples domestically. But still, the thought rankled him. Unlike Chu Yanze, who flaunted his chiseled profile on album covers, Gu Zhaosi had kept his face hidden. The buzz around him personally was minimal; at best, a few people listened to his music.
Gu Zhaosi had originally planned to bide his time in the overseas market, quietly honing his craft until he was ready to dramatically unmask himself, shocking everyone. Then he’d buy up marketing hype: Haha, look how low-key Chu Yanze’s classmate is! He achieved just as much during college but never flaunted it, never let it disrupt his studies. Not like Chu Yanze, that arrogant brat who got a little success and let it go to his head…
The future had seemed bright, but reality was now pressing in urgently. As headlines popped up one after another, Gu Zhaosi felt things were slipping beyond his control.
What if his sister, Gu Zhaoping, ended up charmed by Chu Yanze? What if she took a liking to him and brought him into the family? How could he ever face that?
It’d be a disaster.
An absolute catastrophe!
The thought of seeing Chu Yanze in his own home was unbearable.
With a grim expression, Gu Zhaosi replied to his agent:
[Yes, we’re going back.]
[And I’m showing my face this time.]
No more hiding.
You rose to fame with your looks and talent—what makes you think I’m any less?
Hah, I’m even more low-key than you, and my academic credentials are better!
Chu Yanze, your competition has arrived!
The domestic market, oblivious to the storm brewing, remained fixated on the latest celebrity vlogs.
[We get to see Chu Yanze’s daily life again! He’s usually so mysterious—barely shares anything outside his work.]
[Give us the behind-the-scenes! Show us his contrasting private side!]
[What does Ruan Nian do in her free time? She must be busy filming and attending classes, right? Will we see Gu Zhaoye? Are the two of them always glued together off-camera?]
[He didn’t appear in the preview, and rumors say Gu Zhaoye wasn’t even invited to film. Maybe he wasn’t part of the lineup at all.]
[So what if he wasn’t invited? Does that mean their relationship’s on the rocks? Stop being bitter—our Gu-Nian CP is the realest! Real-life couples are the sweetest to ship!]
[Uh… am I the only one here just dying to see Gu Zhaoping?]
The comment section fell silent for a beat.
And honestly? They weren’t wrong.
Setting aside personal popularity, Gu Zhaoping’s life was undeniably the most intriguing.
A wealthy heiress with no job, no nine-to-five, an astronomical net worth, and a flamboyant personality—who wouldn’t be curious about her daily routine?
Did she spend her days splurging on luxury goods, hopping from boutique to boutique?
Or jet-setting around the world, staying at ultra-exclusive hotels where she was already a top-tier VIP, lavished with personalized service?
Even with the recent controversies swirling around her, envy and fascination were inevitable.
The vlogs rolled out one by one.
Chu Yanze’s day was predictably monotonous: recording songs in the morning, recording songs at noon, recording songs in the afternoon, recording songs at night.
At 2 a.m., he finally wrapped up, nodding to the sound engineers with a weary “Good work, everyone.” Only then did he notice the cameraman dozing off in a corner.
“Wait… you’ve been filming this whole time?” he asked, startled.
The cameraman: “…” Buddy, I’ve already finished.
A mundane, uneventful slice of life—save for that one unintentionally hilarious moment at the end. Yet fans found it oddly reassuring.
Good. As long as he’s focused on work and not… other things.
The other vlogs were similarly ordinary.
Ruan Nian was on set, nearing the end of a shoot.
Her smile was radiant, betraying none of her recent stress. Like a little sunbeam, she charmed everyone around her—even stopping for photos and autographs with the most junior crew members.
[Ahhh, Nian Nian is such an angel! Stanning her is pure joy!]
[Thank you, showrunners, for letting us see her real, unfiltered self. She’s adorable! My baby Nian deserves all the happiness!]
[Just wish we could’ve seen Gu Zhaoye too…]
Li Xunxi practiced the violin.
Li Xunwen played golf.
All standard fare, none particularly lengthy.
Then, finally, Gu Zhaoping’s vlog dropped.
Huh? Why was hers delayed? And wait—why was it so long?
While the others clocked in at a few minutes, hers stretched to nearly half an hour.
Confusion rippled through the audience.
What could she possibly have filmed to fill that much time?
Backstage, the cameraman who’d uploaded the footage smirked, a knowing glint in his eye.
Mission accomplished.
The video opened on an ordinary morning.
The cameraman arrived at the Gu Family’s ancestral estate, ringing the doorbell before being ushered inside.
The scenery along the way was blurred for privacy, but even through the haze, the sprawling grounds and stately, vintage architecture were impossible to miss.
[Here we go—a day in the life of a rich heiress.]
[Bet it’s just shopping and eating. How’s that different from Li Xunxi? If anything, Li Xunxi’s more impressive—she plays the harp! And she’s originally a cellist! That crossover’s no joke.]
[Didn’t Gu Zhaoping say she’s into jujitsu? And archaeology? And stargazing? Maybe she’s at home practicing those. /s]
[Stop, I’m already wheezing. If this footage shows her pretentiously studying chess manuals or “casually” reading a book, I’ll laugh for a month.]
[Well… let’s see. /s]
The scene cut to the drawing room.
The photographer asked awkwardly, "Hello, may I ask where Teacher Gu Zhaoping is?"
Sister Zhang directed someone to serve tea, then glanced at the closed door before turning back to explain, "Hello, our young lady spends her mornings doing her own things in her room—she doesn’t open the door. Since you’re here to film a day-in-her-life vlog, that rule still applies."
The photographer: "……"
Alright then. If she was going to stay in her room all day as part of her routine, did that mean he’d have to film the door for the entire day?
The live chat fell silent for a moment.
Then, suddenly, someone burst out laughing.
[How is this oddly similar to Chu Yanze’s situation?]
[Didn’t expect this—is the young lady really going to make us stare at a door all day?]
[She’s not even pretending to practice some hobby? With all the recent rumors, shouldn’t she be showing off her skills to prove herself?]
[Yeah, at least set up a punching bag at home for show~]
After what felt like forever, the door finally opened.
The photographer quickly straightened up and repositioned his camera toward the entrance.
Gu Zhaoping stepped out, fully dressed in a sleek, no-nonsense outfit—a silk blouse, tailored trousers, and no extra accessories.
The moment she appeared, both the photographer and the audience were stunned.
She looked every bit the corporate elite—like a domineering female CEO.
The photographer stood up and greeted her, "Miss Gu."
Gu Zhaoping nodded, as if accustomed to such formalities, and said while walking ahead, "Today, I’m going to negotiate a property purchase. Let’s go."
The photographer froze. So did the viewers.
Buying a house? This was the big activity for today’s vlog? She was really out here purchasing real estate?
Damn, is this how the heiress of the Gu Family lives? So effortlessly luxurious?
After a brief daze, the photographer steadied his camera and cautiously asked, "Teacher Gu, the audience was hoping to see what you usually do in your daily life. Would it be possible to film what you were doing in your room earlier?"
"What’s so interesting about calligraphy practice?" Gu Zhaoping had already stepped into the elevator. Seeing the doors about to close, the photographer hurried in after her.
Only after stabilizing himself inside did the photographer process her words. Wait—calligraphy?
Gu Zhaoping had spent her entire morning shut in her room… practicing calligraphy?
She woke up that early just to write characters??
As the photographer turned in shock, the camera accidentally caught Sister Zhang emerging from the same room, carrying a thick stack of discarded papers covered in ink.
The pile was substantial—clearly, she had written a lot, likely copying some famous script.
Sister Zhang moved with practiced ease, tidying up after the young lady’s calligraphy session as if it were routine.
The door closed, leaving the photographer dumbfounded.
She really had been practicing calligraphy?
Almost instinctively, the photographer tilted the camera downward, catching a glimpse of ink stains and the faint indentation of a writing brush on Gu Zhaoping’s fingers.
Downstairs, Gu Zhaoping washed her hands before heading out. The photographer followed her assistant, Little Zhao, into the car.
Finally snapping out of his daze, he asked, "Um… Assistant Zhao, may I ask which property Teacher Gu is planning to purchase today?"
"A commercial property," Little Zhao replied calmly, checking the schedule. "It’s a bit of a coincidence—we only received the notice yesterday, and then you all showed up to film today."
The photographer wiped his forehead sheepishly. "Right, right. The schedule was a bit rushed—the audience really wanted the update sooner."
Only then did the live chat start buzzing again, finally processing what they’d just seen.
[She was practicing calligraphy. Gu Zhaoping spent her entire morning writing characters—is that really it?]
[Why didn’t she let the photographer film her calligraphy? Every other guest showed off their hobbies—playing the harp, golfing—all those refined activities got screen time. Isn’t calligraphy just as impressive?]
[She wasn’t faking it… I think she was genuinely practicing. Did you see the housekeeper carrying out all those discarded sheets?]
[Wait, I actually practice calligraphy—and from what I glimpsed, her strokes looked… pretty good?]
Amid the chatter, the discussion suddenly paused.
Hold on. If Gu Zhaoping were the type to flaunt every skill she had, why wouldn’t she show off her calligraphy?
Unless… it was something she did so routinely that she saw no need to display it?
Just then, Gu Zhaoping returned and got into the car. "Let’s go," she said.
The car pulled away, eventually arriving at a location in the city.
When the photographer managed to angle the camera out the window, he froze again at the sight of the sign overhead.
A jiu-jitsu dojo?
Wait, what?
A jiu-jitsu dojo???
She was here to… buy a martial arts studio???
Huh???
