A top star in the Chinese entertainment industry, but also a Taoist priest.

Chen Shouyi put down his phone, walked to the door, and opened it.

Under the dim light of the corridor, Chen Yao stood gracefully at the door. She had changed her clothes, wearing a black long-sleeved cotton shirt, her hair loose, making her look even softer than usual.

Footsteps could be faintly heard at the end of the corridor, as if someone was walking this way. Chen Shouyi glanced in that direction and stepped aside to let the doorway pass.

"Come in and talk."

Chen Yao stepped into the room, moving very lightly, like a cat sneaking into unfamiliar territory.

She stopped in the center of the room and glanced around. Her suitcase was against the wall, a thermos and a half-read copy of the Daoist Canon were on the table, and a purple Daoist robe hung on the coat rack by the window, neatly ironed.

"Have a seat." Chen Shouyi pointed to the sofa and sat down himself.

Chen Yao sat down, placing her hands folded on her knees. Her gaze shifted from the Daoist canon on the table to Chen Shouyi's face, then quickly looked away.

"Why are you up here so late?" Chen Shouyi spoke first.

"I'll come—" Chen Yao paused for a moment. She had prepared a reason, something about what she hadn't finished talking about this afternoon.

But now, sitting in front of him, I suddenly felt that even I didn't believe this reason, so I simply came up with a simpler explanation.

"Yeah, I just ran into Shouzhuo downstairs. He said you haven't eaten yet."

Chen Shouyi glanced at her. That was the truth. He had been waiting in his room to call Fang Ying since he returned from the filming location in the afternoon, and he hadn't eaten dinner yet.

"Not yet."

"That's perfect." Chen Yao's lips curled up slightly. "I know a hot pot restaurant nearby that's really good. Shall we go together? Perfect timing—to discuss the roles."

She spoke deliberately in a serious manner, but her eyes darted around and she couldn't look Chen Shouyi in the eye.

Chen Shouyi's lips twitched slightly as he watched her trying so hard to find an excuse.

Although Zhuo Yun and Hua Yue have many scenes together, he hasn't even received the script yet. What can be discussed about the roles now?

However, he did not expose him.

"Okay. Please wait a moment while I change my clothes."

Chen Shouyi returned to his room and came out a moment later, having changed into casual clothes.

He switched back from the Qingquan Daoist mode to Chen Shouyi mode, reaching out to pull the wooden hairpin out of his hair, causing his black hair to cascade down.

Chen Yao's gaze lingered on him for a moment, then fell on his hair.

She blinked.

She had noticed before that the Taoist priest's hair was longer than that of many girls she had seen.

She didn't notice it when she tied it up with a wooden hairpin, but now that it was tied into a low ponytail hanging down her back, she looked closely and realized that she was not mistaken; it really was longer than hers.

Moreover, it was black and thick, and when the light shone on it, it had a glossy sheen; the hair quality was unbelievably good.

She subconsciously glanced at her hair hanging over her shoulders. Her hair was of decent quality, but compared to Chen Shouyi's thick, shiny black hair, it instantly seemed less appealing.

Chen Shouyi picked up a hair tie and quickly gathered his hair back into a low ponytail.

"What's wrong?" Chen Shouyi noticed her gaze.

"Your hair—" Chen Yao asked with some envy and curiosity, "How come it's longer than mine?"

"Taoist priests need to grow their hair long."

"I mean," she ran her hand through her hair, "it took me years to grow this long. How long would it take you to grow yours to this length?"

"About a few years. Hair is the manifestation of kidney essence and the surplus of blood. When kidney energy is sufficient, hair will naturally grow well."

Chen Yao listened attentively, then suddenly glanced at him again, unable to contain her curiosity:

"Master, may I see your hair?"

Chen Shouyi paused, then sat down and turned to the side.

Chen Yao stepped forward, reached out, and carefully touched the ponytail hanging down his back.

The strands of hair slid through her fingertips, feeling soft and slightly cool to the touch, much more pleasant than she had imagined.

She couldn't help but touch it again, then suddenly realized her behavior was a bit strange and quickly withdrew her hand.

"It's black and shiny, and so smooth..." There was a hint of sourness in Chen Yao's voice, "It's even better than mine."

"Master, how do you usually take care of your hair?" she couldn't help but ask.

Chen Shouyi glanced at her: "You wash every day?"

"……that's all?"

"And I comb my hair every day."

Chen Yao's expression clearly said, "You lied to me." Chen Shouyi smiled and didn't explain further.

Since he began cultivating, his hair has been nourished by spiritual energy day and night, so it would be strange if his hair quality wasn't good. But he couldn't tell her the truth, because she wouldn't believe him anyway.

Chen Yao glanced at his hair a couple more times, but didn't press him further, though she secretly felt a pang of envy.

The two left the room, walked down the corridor one after the other, and entered the elevator.

The hot pot restaurant Chen Yao mentioned wasn't far from the hotel, only about a ten-minute walk. Two red lanterns hung at the entrance, and the sign read "Yuwei Old Hot Pot".

As soon as you push open the door, a wave of spicy and fragrant steam hits you.

The restaurant wasn't crowded; a few customers sat at the tables, their clinking of glasses mingling with the bubbling of the hot pot, creating a perfectly lively atmosphere.

The owner was a short man in his fifties who greeted Chen Yao with a smile as he entered.

"Here we go again?"

Chen Yao was clearly a regular customer. He smiled and nodded, then led Chen Shouyi to a window seat with practiced ease.

The owner came over with a teapot, poured two cups of buckwheat tea, and then put down a menu.

"Take a look and see what you'd like to eat." Chen Yao pushed the menu in front of him.

Chen Shouyi took it, glanced at it, and pushed it back: "You can have some."

"Then I won't stand on ceremony."

Chen Yao took the menu, opened the first page, and immediately got into the zone. Her fingers moved quickly across the menu, and she muttered to herself, much more lively than usual.

"One serving of tripe, fresh tripe, not the soaked kind. One serving of duck intestines, if you're out of goose intestines, then duck intestines will do. And beef tripe—do you still have any?"

"Yes, yes, yes, it just arrived this morning!" the boss quickly replied.

"One serving of beef tripe, please. Tender beef, cilantro meatballs, firm tofu, potato slices, lotus root slices, and lettuce tips—"

Chen Yao flipped through the menu, "And another egg fried rice, their egg fried rice is especially delicious."

She looked up, as if suddenly remembering something: "Their hot pot broth is the most authentic, but it's a bit spicy. Can you handle spicy food? If not, we can order a half-and-half broth."

"Okay," Chen Shouyi said.

"mandarin duck?"

"Spicy."

Chen Yao blinked, a hint of surprise flashing in her eyes, which then curved into two crescent moons.

She closed the menu and slammed it on the table, then called out to the owner, "Boss, extra spicy red soup!" She turned to look at Chen Shouyi, her voice tinged with eagerness.

"Master, this is your first time having dinner with me. Don't regret it later."

No regrets.