Chapter 12: Male-Centric Tropes

Although she agreed to change, actually picking a new outfit was proving to be a challenge for Dai Ning.

She sat on the carpet, visibly troubled, sifting through her clothes. “All my clothes are beautiful.”

Zhao Yu looked on. She wasn’t wrong; with her keen sense of style and preference for bold pieces, every dress she owned was uniquely eye-catching.

He suggested, “Wear pants instead. Don’t wear a skirt.”

Dai Ning pouted, pulling out a pair of shorts. Zhao Yu’s eyebrow twitched slightly at the small amount of fabric.

“Long pants.”

“So annoying!” she huffed. Still, since he’d complimented her beauty earlier, she pulled out a pair of jeans.

After a quick change, she swapped her top for a light pink t-shirt as well.

Waiting outside, Zhao Yu glanced at her as she emerged, her hair now in twin braids. Despite her general lack of hands-on skills, she had a natural talent for dressing up.

He watched silently as the jeans hugged her legs, showing off their slim, straight shape. The braids added a youthful vibe, giving her a fresh and vibrant look.

Even with her dressed down, her beauty was undiminished.

“Let’s go.”

As they walked, she suddenly remembered her 14-person bodyguard team. “They have to come too.”

Zhao Yu thought about it—this was someone’s wedding, not a staged event. He knew the best approach was to handle her delicately: compliments worked wonders, but even a small criticism would lead to explosive resentment.

So he said, “There aren’t enough seats at the wedding. Liu Shuan only invited you.”

Dai Ning liked the idea of being warmly welcomed in Apricot Flower Village, so she agreed happily. “Fine. But without them, you have to make sure I’m safe.”

He would have stayed by her side regardless today.

He nodded. “Of course.”

A moment later, she tugged on his sleeve. “Zhao Yu, Zhao Yu!”

He turned. “What is it?”

“I want that flower. Go pick two for me.”

Zhao Yu followed her gaze to some sky-blue daisies growing at the edge of a field. Wildflowers like these were common in rural areas, hardy and lovely.

Without a word, he crossed the field and picked two flowers for her.

Dai Ning tucked them into her braids, the vibrant flowers matching her bright personality.

Catching Zhao Yu looking at her, she asked, “Do they look good?”

He coughed slightly.

She pretended to glare, so he sighed and replied, “They look good.”

Satisfied, she looked at him with newfound fondness, finding him rather agreeable today.

They still had a bit of a walk to Liu Shuan’s place. The sound of drums and suonas grew louder with each step, adding to the excitement.

Dai Ning craned her neck. “Which one is the bride?”

Zhao Yu explained, “Xiao Yan is still inside. She’s getting ready to take her vows with Liu Shuan.”

Dai Ning was intrigued. “People here still take vows like that? That’s so traditional.”

Zhao Yu nodded. “It’s an old custom. Around here, once you’ve taken vows, it’s a lifetime commitment. They stay together through everything, without question.”

She blinked. “Is it the same for you?”

He paused, looking at her. “Yes, for me too.”

Grinning mischievously, she leaned in. “I don’t believe it. If you ever make it big, you’d probably have a harem of side-lovers and a secret first love you’d never forget.”

Zhao Yu frowned. “Why do you think that?”

“Because that’s how all the male-centric novels go,” she explained, recalling the typical male-author fantasy where no beauty is left unconquered.

Not entirely sure what strange things she was reading, he decided it wasn’t worth an explanation.

“The ceremony is starting. Want to watch?”

“Of course.”

As they walked closer, Zhao Ping waved excitedly. The crowd was lively, and Zhao Yu shielded Dai Ning to keep her from getting jostled.

Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she looked toward the bride, Xiao Yan, in her bright red, traditional dress, adorned with a single red flower.

Just as Zhao Yu had said, Xiao Yan’s makeup added a shy yet blissful touch to her expression.

Zhao Yu subtly positioned himself to block others’ view of Dai Ning, ensuring Xiao Yan remained the center of attention.

Dai Ning tugged on his sleeve, whispering, “Where’s the ring? Aren’t they going to exchange rings?”

He saw her anticipation and explained, “They don’t use rings.”

It wasn’t the gold or gems that held people together here but rather a rare, sincere devotion.

After the ceremony, the groom could kiss the bride.

As the crowd cheered, Zhao Yu instinctively checked on his younger siblings. Twelve-year-old Zhao Ping quickly shielded both his and little An An’s eyes, his face flushed.

Reassured, Zhao Yu looked down at Dai Ning beside him.

She clung to his arm, wide-eyed, unabashedly watching the kiss with keen interest.

He felt at a loss.

Expecting her to be embarrassed was probably a hope for another lifetime.

Leaning close, she whispered, “Do you guys have a wedding-night prank tradition?” ^[1]The wedding-night prank tradition in China, known as nào dòngfáng, involves friends and family playfully teasing the newlyweds with light-hearted games and tasks to bring laughter and blessings.

Zhao Yu nodded. “We do.”

Eyes bright, she said, “I want to join in!”

Zhao Yu: …

He had a bad feeling about this.

For now, though, that was something to worry about later. Liu Shuan’s parents were inviting everyone to take their seats for the banquet. Dai Ning sat beside Zhao Yu at a table full of villagers.

Everyone’s eyes were on her.

She didn’t mind at all. She looked this good, so what was wrong with being the center of attention?

Beside her was six-year-old An’an, and directly across the table were Du Tian and her mother.

“Hey, Zhao Yu, Du Tian’s looking at you,” Dai Ning whispered.

He frowned. “Don’t make things up.”

Feigning innocence, Dai Ning said, “Oh, come on. Watch—she’ll try talking to you soon. Let’s see if you can ignore her.”

As if on cue, Du Tian called softly, “Brother Zhao Yu, I finished that book you lent me. Can I return it to you tomorrow?”

Dai Ning shot Zhao Yu a disdainful look.

Zhao Yu: “…”

He felt a vein twitch on his hand but kept calm as he replied to Du Tian, “No need. You can keep those books. I don’t need them.”

Du Tian smiled softly. “You could pass them on to Zhao Ping and An An.”

Zhao Yu agreed. If this conversation had happened before Dai Ning’s prediction, he might not have thought much of it, but now, it left a strange feeling in his mind.

Zhao Yu was self-aware, yet a bit puzzled. The Tian girl he remembered was introverted and barely spoke to him. Recently, however, she’d grown suddenly friendlier. She used to carry herself with a certain pride, so Zhao Yu had never thought Du Tian liked him. Looking now at the smiling girl across from him, he became thoughtful.

When someone changes so drastically, there’s usually one reason: they see something to gain. But what could he, a penniless nobody, possibly offer?

Dai Ning had no idea that her casual remark would set Zhao Yu’s thoughts spinning and even land so close to the truth.

As the typical “male lead” type, Zhao Yu didn’t let his emotions show. Outwardly indifferent, he was now quietly on guard against Du Tian.

Dai Ning, meanwhile, only made the comment in passing and was far more interested in the dishes being served. Even though it was a wedding feast, it hardly compared to her usual meals.

Nearby, Zhao An’an and Zhao Ping were happily devouring their food. Zhao Yu, noticing Dai Ning barely touched her plate, coaxed her softly, “After the meal, I’ll take you to Mr. Qian’s place to grab a bite.”

Dai Ning’s face lit up, her large eyes sparkling. “Mhm!”

She whispered into his ear, “You’re quite considerate.”

Zhao Yu could only chuckle.

Their interaction didn’t go unnoticed by Du Tian, who felt a twinge of unease. But as an “outsider” in this world, she reassured herself that she still held the advantage of knowing the storyline. There was no rush. Dai Ning, after all, wasn’t particularly likable. And Zhao Yu, being only one of the story’s main leads, wasn’t the only option. If her plan failed with him, there were two others to pursue. She was only seventeen, not twenty-seven—she had plenty of time.

True to his word, Zhao Yu accompanied Dai Ning to the village head’s house after the banquet, arranging for the cook to prepare her something fresh.

It was Dai Ning’s first visit back to the village head’s house since she’d moved out.

Zhang Yongfeng scratched his head and reported, “Miss, I made sure Chen Xiaoli didn’t touch your things. Do you want to check?”

Dai Ning beamed and patted his head. “Good job!”

Zhang Yongfeng blushed red.

Seeing this, Zhao Yu looked away indifferently.

His gaze settled on the lone paulownia tree outside the window, avoiding whatever Dai Ning was up to and who she was talking to. How she acted and whom she befriended were none of his business.

Suddenly, a weary-looking Chen Xiaoli appeared.

“Dai Ning!” she spat through gritted teeth, “I want to go back!”

To Chen Xiaoli, these days had been pure misery. No internet, and everything beyond food relied on the village head’s resources. Sleeping on that creaky wooden bed had her aching all over.

Despite the bounty Dai Ning had brought with her, Zhang Yongfeng, who followed her instructions without question, hadn’t allowed her to touch a single thing. Chen Xiaoli couldn’t stand it any longer—she had to leave.

Dai Ning sipped her sweet soup, feigning surprise. “I never stopped you from leaving.”

Chen Xiaoli said, “Then have someone take me back to B City. I can’t handle this backwater anymore!”

The air was thick with the scent of chicken manure.

Sitting by the door, Zhao Yu glanced over at her. He knew Chen Xiaoli was a friend of the young miss, though it was clear this clingy friend’s family wasn’t on her level.

If even Chen Xiaoli couldn’t bear this place, then… surely Dai Ning would leave soon, too?

Dai Ning, however, replied coolly, “You’re pretty shameless. Why should my family pay for your departure? You came here on your own. If you want to leave, you’re free to go anytime.”

There was no way Chen Xiaoli would leave on her own, given the perilous mountain terrain.

Knowing better than to argue with the young miss, Chen Xiaoli, who had endured hardship long enough, held her tongue and asked carefully, “When will you leave?”

Dai Ning paused, turning around, only to lock eyes with Zhao Yu.

He calmly looked down, focusing on his bony fingers.

Dai Ning said, “I’m not leaving anytime soon. This place is kind of fun.”

In this world, the heroine Du Tian seemed a far cry from the sharp, scheming white lotus she would eventually become. Seeing Du Tian now, Dai Ning thought she’d be a fool to leave while she had the upper hand.

Clearly, Du Tian had potential as a calculating actress.

Dai Ning’s mind whirred, and she asked Qing Tuan (the green orb spirit) internally, “Can I have someone rough up Du Tian a bit?”

Qing Tuan: “…No, you can’t.”

“What if I insist?”

“You’ll fail and end up exposed.”

She got the message—this must be what people meant by a protagonist’s halo. If Du Tian tried to hit her, she’d probably be doomed instantly.

Lacking the means to deal with the heroine directly, Dai Ning knew only someone with great fortune could bring her down.

Dai Ning stood up and nudged Zhao Yu, who sat at the door, with her toe.

“Time to go back.”

Zhao Yu stood and walked with her to Liu Shuan’s place.

Wildflowers bloomed along the road, and suddenly Zhao Yu asked, “Why did you come to our village?”

Dai Ning shrugged. “My parents passed away. I came to clear my head.”

Of all the answers he imagined, this hadn’t been one of them. He felt a pang in his chest and said softly, “I’m sorry.”

Dai Ning grinned as if unaffected.

Watching her carefree demeanour, Zhao Yu thought that if he could, he’d try to be kinder to her during her stay in the village.

Yet this resolve barely lasted a day before it nearly broke that very night during the wedding night prank.