Chapter 39: The Second Matchmaker Gala – A Grand Setup

The ballroom was dazzling—a sea of elegance that could have been plucked from the pages of a fairy tale. Glittering chandeliers cast a warm glow over the guests, who mingled around tables adorned with cascading floral arrangements and flickering candles. A string quartet played softly in the background, the melodies weaving through the air like an invisible thread of calm.

At least, that’s how it looked. Ava, however, knew better.

She stood near the entrance, scanning the room for signs of imminent disaster. Her grandmother’s galas always had a way of veering off-course, usually in spectacularly chaotic fashion. Tonight would be no different.

"Looks pretty," Ryan said, appearing at her side with two glasses of champagne. "Too pretty. Like it’s trying to lull us into a false sense of security."

Ava took a glass, her lips twitching. "That’s because it is. Mei planned this, remember?"

Ryan sipped his drink, his gaze drifting toward the dessert table, where Mei was directing a waiter to position a stack of golden envelopes. She looked completely at ease, the picture of serenity, which only made Ava more suspicious.

"What’s in the envelopes?" Ava asked, sidling up to Mei.

"Icebreaker clues," Mei replied innocently, stepping back to inspect her work. "They’re part of the compatibility scavenger hunt."

Ava narrowed her eyes. "And what exactly do these ’clues’ entail?"

Mei smiled, the kind of smile that meant trouble. "Just a little matchmaking magic."

Ryan wandered over, his eyebrows raised as he eavesdropped. "Translation: chaos is about to break loose."

"Not everything I do ends in chaos," Mei said, feigning offense.

Ryan tilted his head. "Last week, you matched a vegan with a butcher. They got into a tofu-throwing contest in a parking lot."

"That was educational chaos," Mei corrected, patting Ryan’s arm.

Ava groaned. "Why do I let you plan these things?"

"Because I’m always right," Mei said serenely, walking away before Ava could argue.

---

The golden envelopes were supposed to be a lighthearted icebreaker, but Mei’s version of "lighthearted" was more like an invitation for bedlam. At first, the clues seemed normal—find someone who likes dogs, locate someone who prefers pineapple on pizza—but as the night progressed, things took a turn for the ridiculous.

In one corner, an overly competitive guest named Sheila was clutching her envelope like it was a sacred scroll. "My clue says I have to find someone who can list all the Harry Potter books in reverse order," she announced to no one in particular.

"Easy," replied a man in a Ravenclaw scarf. He began rattling off the titles, his voice rising with intensity. "Deathly Hallows, Half-Blood Prince, Order of the Phoenix—"

"Wait, wait!" Sheila interrupted, her brow furrowed. "You forgot the Definitive Collector’s Edition appendix!"

"That doesn’t count!" the Ravenclaw protested, his face turning red.

Nearby, Alice, the tipsy librarian, stumbled across another clue: "Find someone who has eaten an exotic food." She waved her clue dramatically, stopping the nearest guest—a hedge fund manager named Larry.

"Exotic foods? I’ve had caviar and Wagyu beef," Larry said smugly.

"That’s not exotic," Alice scoffed, pointing her champagne flute at him. "I’m talking about fried tarantulas or deep-fried scorpions."

Larry blinked. "Those... don’t sound edible."

"Then we’re not a match," Alice declared, marching off dramatically.

In the middle of the room, a man named Brad waved his envelope like a beacon. "My clue says to find someone who has embarrassed themselves in public!"

"I tripped over a Roomba and broke my arm," a woman volunteered.

"That’s amazing!" Brad replied, his eyes lighting up. "In a tragic way."

Meanwhile, the line between fun and chaos was officially crossed when Mei strolled by, quietly switching clues between two guests.

"Did you just—" Ava began, catching her grandmother in the act.

"It’s called strategic matchmaking," Mei said, grinning innocently.

---

The tension between Veronica, the hyper-competitive CEO, and Dave, the laid-back travel blogger, had been brewing all evening. Their scavenger hunt clues had unfortunately pitted them against each other, and neither was backing down.

"My clue says I need to find someone who’s been to three countries and hates airports," Veronica announced, jabbing her finger at Dave. "You’ve only been to two countries this year!"

"Wrong," Dave replied calmly, sipping his drink. "I hit a third one on a layover. Boom."

"Layovers don’t count!" Veronica snapped, narrowing her eyes.

Dave raised an eyebrow. "Who made you the scavenger hunt police?"

Veronica growled, grabbed the dessert cart nearest to her, and pushed it toward him with surprising force.

Dave dove out of the way, yelling, "What is wrong with you?!"

The dessert cart careened wildly across the room, narrowly missing a waiter carrying a tray of champagne. It smashed into a nearby table of appetizers, sending meatballs rolling across the floor like rogue bowling balls.

Several guests gasped, jumping out of the way as the chaos unfolded. A particularly enthusiastic Labrador retriever therapy dog—brought in by one of the guests—darted toward the meatballs, adding to the mayhem.

"Is she actually weaponizing desserts?" Ryan asked, watching in awe.

"Why is this my life?" Ava muttered, rubbing her temples as another tray of éclairs toppled onto the floor.

Veronica and Dave were still arguing over whose clue was valid when a waiter stepped in to separate them. "Ma’am, sir, if you can’t behave, I’ll have to ask you to leave."

"This isn’t over," Veronica hissed, glaring at Dave.

Dave grinned. "Bring it on."

---

It was inevitable. Someone had wheeled a karaoke machine into the ballroom, and all it took was one slightly tipsy participant to spark a scene.

Sandra, the notoriously dramatic guest who once staged a shrimp cocktail fight at a previous gala, grabbed the microphone and climbed onto the small stage.

"This is your clue!" she declared, pointing the mic at Greg, her on-again-off-again karaoke partner. "Find someone willing to duet with you on ’Islands in the Stream.’"

Greg crossed his arms, unimpressed. "I’m not singing country."

"It’s not country. It’s Dolly Parton! She’s an icon!" Sandra shot back, her voice rising.

"I’m not doing it," Greg said, shaking his head.

Sandra scowled. "Fine. If you won’t sing it with me, I’ll find someone who will!"

She scanned the crowd and locked eyes with a terrified-looking man in a tuxedo. "You! Come up here!"

The man stammered, "I—I don’t know the lyrics!"

Greg groaned, snatched the microphone, and muttered, "Fine. I’ll do it. But I’m doing it my way."

"What does that mean?" Sandra asked suspiciously.

The answer became clear as Greg began singing in the style of death metal. His growling, guttural rendition of "Islands in the Stream" left the room in hysterics.

"What... is happening?" Ava asked, staring at the stage in disbelief.

"Art," Ryan replied, smirking.

Sandra, to her credit, kept up her half of the duet, belting out the lyrics with so much passion that it somehow worked. By the time they finished, the crowd was on its feet, cheering and laughing.

"That’s my legacy," Ava muttered to Ryan. "Death metal karaoke."

"You should be proud," Ryan said, clearly enjoying himself.

---

Ava should have known Mei had planned something devious. When her grandmother announced a live matchmaking demonstration and called her and Ryan onto the stage, she barely had time to protest before Mei was shoving a set of props into her hands.

"Reenact a first date," Mei instructed, smirking.

"What kind of first date involves props?" Ryan asked, holding up a fake menu and a plastic candle.

"The kind I orchestrate," Mei replied, stepping offstage.

Ava sighed, resigning herself to the chaos. "Fine. Let’s do this."

Ryan leaned back in his chair, clearly having too much fun. "So, Ava, what’s your favorite hobby?"

"Matchmaking," Ava said dryly. "And avoiding public humiliation like this."

The audience chuckled, and Ryan grinned. "You’re doing great so far."

The "date" continued with increasingly ridiculous prompts from Mei, including, "Share your most embarrassing childhood memory" and "Pretend to order a five-course meal using only interpretive dance."

When the script called for Ava to "accidentally" spill water on Ryan, she didn’t hesitate.

"Oops," she said, tipping the glass onto his lap with mock innocence.

Ryan stared at her, water dripping from his pants. "You enjoyed that way too much."

"Maybe," Ava replied, smiling sweetly.

The audience roared with laughter, and even Ava couldn’t help but grin. Despite the absurdity of it all, she realized she was actually having fun.

As the demonstration ended, Ryan leaned in and whispered, "If this is what a first date with you is like, I can’t wait to see the second."

Ava rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed. "You’re impossible."

"And yet," Ryan said, smirking, "you’re still here."

---

The scavenger hunt, the dessert cart chase, the karaoke chaos, and the staged matchmaking demonstration all combined into a night that would go down in matchmaking history as Mei’s most outrageous gala yet. And though Ava spent most of the evening putting out metaphorical fires, she couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pride as she watched the guests laughing, connecting, and embracing the delightful chaos.

"Well," Ryan said as they watched Sandra and Greg belt out another questionable duet, "I think your grandma’s done it again."

"She always does," Ava replied, smiling.

And as the night wound down, Ava realized something important: Sometimes, love—and life—was best when it was a little messy.

---

As the evening wound down, Ava spotted Ethan and Mei in a corner, deep in conversation. Ethan leaned in and whispered something, causing Mei to nod thoughtfully.

Ava’s stomach twisted. She approached just as Ethan turned to leave, flashing her a smug smile.

"Great party, Ava," Ethan said. "You’ve really outdone yourself."

"Thanks," Ava said warily. "What were you two talking about?"

"Oh, just the final piece of the puzzle," Ethan said cryptically.

Before Ava could respond, he disappeared into the crowd.

She turned to Mei, narrowing her eyes. "What’s going on?"

Mei sipped her tea, her expression serene. "Nothing you need to worry about."

"Grandma," Ava said, her voice low, "if you’re plotting something, I swear—"

Mei smiled. "Trust me, dear. Everything is under control."

Ava groaned, watching her grandmother walk away. "Why do I feel like that’s a lie?"

"Because it is," Mei called over her shoulder.

And just like that, Ava knew the chaos was far from over.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by Aunomay Read