When traveling abroad, one must create their own identity.

"Do girls get free drinks at bars?"
That’s all a lie. If a promoter really tells you that, you’re just part of the "atmosphere group" brought in to make the place look busy for free.
Guo Jinglin had been to this bar before. He had reached out to a previous promoter, got a "boss card," and ordered ten thousand yuan worth of alcohol.
The promoters had colluded to bring in a few girls who wanted free drinks—decently dressed, but average-looking.
Chen Ze sat by the booth, not particularly interested. After being toasted by a promoter, he scanned the room.
As luck would have it, none of the girls in his booth—neither the ones freeloading off the tab nor the "champagne babies"—caught his eye. However, a girl at the neighboring booth piqued his interest.
After observing for a few minutes, Chen Ze noticed she was occupying a booth all by herself, looking cold, distant, and quite melancholy.
Having made up his mind, he didn't hesitate. He set his glass down, walked over, and plopped himself down right next to her.
Chen Ze had originally planned to let Zhang Liang test the waters first—it would have been good practice and provided first-hand intel—but seeing how hard Zhang Liang was working just to blend in, he decided to skip it.
Hitting on a girl is like pregnancy; you have to approach it with the competitive mindset of hundreds of millions of sperm racing to the finish line.
If the attempt fails, it doesn't matter.
Just move on to the next one.
There aren't really any secret manuals for picking up women. The difference between those who succeed and those who don't is just two words: "courage." You might as well be bold; life doesn't have that many spectators.
As a man of his stature, Chen Ze’s arrival immediately drew a wary look, but he took the initiative:
"Everyone else here is having such a lively, happy time. How come it’s so quiet and cold on your side?"
The girl looked up, a faint flash of disdain in her eyes, but it softened considerably once she took in his appearance and style.
First impressions are crucial. Chen Ze knew he was benefiting from his looks, so he met her gaze with a light smile:
"I just walked into this bar and saw a girl drinking whiskey all by herself. The imagery was instant. I felt like I’d walked into a movie—a beautiful woman drinking alone in the dim light, looking both comfortable and melancholy."
They locked eyes for two seconds. The girl rested her chin on her hand, looked at him with a hint of intoxication, and flashed a playful smile:
"You’re good at flattering people."
There was a faint glimmer in her eyes as she stared straight at him, a spark of genuine interest replacing her previous coldness.
Chen Ze knew he was halfway there. With a relaxed, easygoing smile, he gestured toward the table:
"I have no ill intentions. I just wanted to audition for the scene. If you’re willing to let me be in your movie, we could have a drink—just as a way to make a friend."
Picking up girls usually involves a bit of awkwardness, but that’s the gap between reality and alcohol.
When you aren't using money and aren't handsome enough, you have to rely on the help of alcohol to succeed.
You have to realize that this girl has already been drinking, and she’s willing to hear things she wouldn't listen to while sober.
Hearing Chen Ze say this, the girl was quite generous; she turned and picked up the glass to pour him a drink.

Although the girl didn't stand up, sitting next to her, Chen Ze could tell she wasn't short—she had to be around 1.72 meters, even taller in heels.
She was wearing white denim shorts, and her long legs were slender and fair, so soft you could almost pinch water out of them.
Her