The next morning, Shen Ruoxi returned from Eden House barefoot and glowing—no smudged lipstick, no disheveled hair, just that maddeningly unreadable smile she wore like perfume.
"Good morning," she greeted the villa, grabbing a mango smoothie from the kitchen counter. Her tone was casual, like she hadn't just spent the night in the most luxurious bedroom on the island with a man half the villa wanted.
Chi Yichen followed ten minutes later, quieter. His expression was unreadable—but his silence made the girls twitch.
Ruoxi sipped her drink and watched it all unfold with the calm of someone watching a chess match she was still ten moves ahead in.
---
By noon, the atmosphere had curdled into something taut and thick with words unsaid.
Li Shixun was the one who cracked first.
They were sitting on the patio when he dropped his casual tone and looked directly at her.
"Do you actually like anyone here?" he asked, too lightly.
She turned to him, eyebrows raised. "Define 'like.'"
"You know what I mean."
She paused. Tilted her head.
"If I didn't like anyone, would I be here?"
He gave a tight laugh. "You flirt with everyone, Ruoxi. One night you're making Gu Zeyan blink for the first time in a decade, the next you're hand-feeding Chi Yichen mango slices."
"Jealousy doesn't suit you," she said, smiling without warmth.
"It's not jealousy. It's confusion."
That actually made her pause.
Confusion. Not anger. Not resentment. Just… a subtle kind of unraveling.
She set her glass down, her tone still velvet, but laced now with steel. "I've never lied about what I'm doing here. I didn't promise exclusivity, nor pretend to be the sweet girl next door."
"No," he said, "but you act like you don't care whose heart you break, as long as the camera likes the way you do it."
Silence fell.
She stood then, slow and deliberate.
Walked over. Leaned down, one hand on the arm of his chair. She wasn't angry. She wasn't even flustered. But her voice was lower now, intimate and cold.
"I never asked anyone to fall."
And just like that, she walked away.
---
Later, on the balcony, she found Gu Zeyan standing alone. He was staring out at the ocean, jaw tense.
"You didn't say anything," she said.
"I don't have to." He didn't look at her.
"You agree with him?"
He was quiet for a moment, then turned toward her.
"I think you play with fire because you assume you'll never get burned."
She gave him a small, sad smile. "That's the thing about being a doctor, Gu Zeyan. We learn early that pain is manageable, and loss is part of the job."
"You're not in a hospital now."
"No," she said softly, brushing a piece of hair from her face. "Here, people actually expect me to feel."
---
**Confessional booth:**
She sat cross-legged, hair pulled into a low knot, face bare except for lip tint. For once, she looked… almost tired.
"Do I flirt too much?" she echoed the question from a producer.
A beat.
"I flirt the way some people breathe. It's not strategy. It's survival."
Another pause.
"And if they fall, maybe they should ask themselves why someone like me feels safer pretending than staying still long enough to be chosen."
She reached out, touched the lens softly with her fingertip.
"Tell them not to take it personally. I never do."
Blackout.