"Ladies and gentlemen, dear friends, good morning!" In the darkness, the Superman theme played, and a spotlight landed on a young host in a sharp suit. His words were stirring—he was a pro at this. "Welcome to the 'Hand in Hand in Spring City, Summer Matchmaking' female-only session. This time, we've gathered top-quality men from all over the country, along with elegant, noble, and stunning women."
As the host spoke, the lights in the hall gradually came on, revealing a space that looked like a TV studio. The host stood on a half-meter-high T-shaped stage, with the vertical part of the T connecting to a curved area where a dozen men lounged on sofas.
Looking at these dozen men, it was honestly blinding. No matter their height, size, age, or looks, most of them sparkled in their own way. That "I'm seriously awesome" vibe hit you in the face—truly impressive. The setup was kind of like that show 'Only You,' with the men on their seats all looking like "Ten Dark Kings" or something, their superior expressions uncannily alike.
"Besides our distinguished guests, we've also invited three judges to the matchmaking event. They'll use their passion, experience, and male intuition to score and comment on all the contestants. They are—" Snap! The lights came on, and next to the vertical of the T, a bit farther away, three men appeared, just like referees at a competition.
But the vibes from these three were a little different from your usual stern referees...
"First up, Mr. Ma!"
Middle-aged guy, short hair, wearing huge sunglasses, radiating that special kind of "middle-aged, not successful" manly gloom.
"Second, Mr. Yin!"
Young guy, curly hair, dead-fish eyes, radiating that special kind of "young, not successful" lazy energy.
"Third, Mr. Xin!"
Teenage guy, student haircut, thick glasses, radiating that special kind of "teen, not successful" otaku energy.
The three of them sat in a row, hands folded under their chins, looking like directors of some bizarre department.
When the spotlight hit these three, the whole atmosphere turned weird. Their vibe was worlds apart from the male contestants—if those guys were Zapdos, Moltres, and Articuno, then these three were Grimer, Slime, and Snot Monster brothers. The contrast with the fancy hall was so huge, some contestants even whispered to each other, wondering where these losers came from.
No, it wasn’t just whispers anymore—someone asked out loud. A rich kid glanced at the judges and said, "Host, wait, who are these three, exactly? Why are they judges?"
The host pursed his lips, looking a bit bitter—how should I know! You ask me, who am I supposed to ask? Who knows where the organizers found these three gems, I’m just a temp host! But you can’t let the room go cold, so he forced a smile and said, "Uh, these three are…"
"Young man, that’s a good question." Before the host could answer, Mr. Ma spoke up. His voice was raspy and world-weary, kind of intimidating: "Every show has a few clueless guys whose job is to ask questions, roast people, and be snarky. We always wonder who these guys are, where they come from, and why they act like they know everything. But I’ll tell you, anywhere else we’re losers, but today—" His sunglasses flashed as he declared, "we’re the undisputed authorities."
"Oh?" The rich kid raised an eyebrow. "Why? Let’s hear it."
Mr. Yin, sitting in the middle, picked his nose and flicked away something dark, then rolled his dead-fish eyes: "Because we understand women better than you."
"Ha! You understand women better than us?" The rich kid burst out laughing, as if he’d heard the best joke ever: "Ha! You probably haven’t even met as many women in your life as I have…"
"Exactly!" Before he could finish, Mr. Yin cut in: "When it comes to hands-on experience, sure, you win by sheer numbers. But Persia had 300,000 soldiers—they were just slaves. Sparta had 300, but they were warriors. So you’ve met a lot of women—so what? How many great women have you really met? In that department, I’ve got way more experience than you."
The rich kid couldn’t keep his cool, scoffing: "Great women? Aren’t they all just for sale…"
"That’s exactly why you don’t get it," Mr. Xin said, looking like a nerdy guy with glasses, but pushing up his frames, he suddenly sounded wise: "You don’t get it, so our job is to help you see. Meeting a real goddess at a matchmaking event—a fated encounter—is a man’s greatest romance. Without that, your life’s meaningless, pale as a face worn out from too much indulgence."
Before the rich kid could retort, Mr. Ma cut in: "Anyway, you’re here for matchmaking. That means you should be looking for the leading lady of your life. If you’re just here for a hookup, you wouldn’t need to be at this event at all. Since you’re here, why not listen to us losers for a different perspective?"
Hearing the judges, the male contestants reacted differently—some nodded, some wondered who these oddballs were. The young man in the center, in the most prominent seat, spoke up: "The judges make a good point. I’m suddenly looking forward to this event."
Once he spoke, the rich kid had to shut up, as if he didn’t dare go against him.
The host wiped his brow in relief. If the guests and judges had clashed, it would’ve been a disaster. Thankfully, nothing happened, so he cheerfully announced: "Since that’s settled, everyone, please choose the leading lady of your life! Let’s begin the first round—the stunning debut!"