Embedded Files
Psst! We're moving!
Under the corridor lights, Ye Lin opened the door to her room.
Bi Tan held a stack of documents in his hand and didn’t forget to turn back with a reminder: “Today’s interview is done, but there’s a shoot tomorrow.”
“You can do it in your bathroom. It’s just some pictures of the razor; keep it casual. They’ll bring their own equipment.”
“By the way—”
Before he could finish, Bi Tan inadvertently turned around and locked eyes with Yan Man.
Bi Tan: “What a coincidence, Teacher Yan is here too?”
The next second, he noticed Feng Ting standing before Yan Man.
Bi Tan: “Xiao Ting?”
In almost three seconds, this top-notch agent caught a whiff of gossip.
Before he could figure out where he stood, he quickly smiled and said: “We didn’t interrupt you two, did we?”
Then he swiftly pulled the door handle, slipped back into Ye Lin’s room, and “thoughtfully” closed the door behind him.
With a “bang,” the door locked. Only then did Bi Tan realize what he had done, smacking his forehead.
“Damn, why did I leave them alone? This damn professional habit of mine—”
When he looked up, Ye Lin was calmly adjusting his cuffs, his long fingers folding and smoothing the fabric.
Bi Tan muttered in confusion: “How can you still be concerned about your clothes at a time like this?”
The man seemed unfazed. “What time?”
“Feng Ting clearly has feelings for Yan Man, alright! Late at night, a young boy in pajamas shows up at her door. What else do you think they’re going to do?!”
“This is seduction! Seduction!” Bi Tan was visibly agitated. “I told you, you’ve been ignoring her, but she’s very popular with others. From what I’ve observed, at least three male actors in the crew have shown interest in her—hey, where are you going?!”
As if unwilling to hear more, the man turned back into the bedroom and lay down in a relaxed posture.
He casually picked up a hardcover book.
Bi Tan was speechless: “How can you be so oblivious? Do you understand how worried I am for you?! Let me tell you, a beautiful woman like her will only chase after you when she’s new to the industry. Once she gets into the public eye, she’ll skyrocket to fame. By then, her self-esteem will be through the roof, and she definitely won’t chase you anymore—”
Ye Lin: “Isn’t that perfect?”
“Perfect? Are you sure?” Bi Tan shook his head. “What’s outside? A young boy! Young flesh! These days, young girls all like younger guys, don’t you get it?!”
“You’re only one year older than Yan Man, but the age gap feels like a chasm—aren’t you nervous? Don’t you feel the urge to act?!”
The man put the book down, grabbed an eye mask, and covered his face. His thin lips remained shut, as if he’d had enough and couldn’t be bothered to reply.
Bi Tan: “Are you really so indifferent? You’re okay with her being taken by someone else? No regrets?”
Ye Lin leaned over, turned off the bedside lamp, and soon, the bedroom was plunged into darkness.
His voice echoed in the empty room.
“I don’t care.”
Bi Tan stared at him for a long while but failed to see anything.
…Because he literally couldn’t see where the man was.
Bi Tan sighed: “Alright, let’s talk about work.”
Ye Lin: “I’m sleepy.”
I knew it.
Bi Tan gritted his teeth: “Every time I talk to you, you get sleepy. Do I look like sleeping pills or something?”
“…”
Three minutes later, Bi Tan left the room.
With faint sounds of shoe soles rubbing against the floor, the door closed behind him, and silence returned.
No one knew what had transpired there.
On the other side, inside Yan Man’s room.
Finally finding an excuse to send the person away, Yan Man leaned against the door and sighed in relief.
“Kids these days, they’re tough.”
She shook her head.
“You’re just too charming,” Zhou Xuan said. “Look at you every day on set, always revolving around Ye Lin. And yet people are still drawn to you. Doesn’t that prove your charm?”
Yan Man was about to say something but suddenly remembered something and looked up: “Do you think Ye Lin might misunderstand?”
“Misunderstand what? Did he see?”
“Yeah, right when his agent came out, he was standing at the door too.”
Yan Man immediately became alert: “No, I need to explain things to him.”
The next day at the filming location, the two of them didn’t have any scenes together. They were split into different groups, barely seeing each other.
After wrapping up for the evening, Yan Man finally found an opportunity.
The door to Ye Lin’s room was open, with many staff members moving things around. Spotlights hung high, and photographers carried DSLRs, waiting for the shoot to begin.
It all looked very professional.
Yan Man approached the person who seemed most in charge and politely asked: “Can I take a look?”
The moment the person in charge looked up, she paused.
She had seen Yan Man’s photos—just photos.
At the time, she thought she was just a pretty actress. No wonder her debut role landed her such a good production team. But seeing her in person was breathtaking.
This was a face made entirely for the camera.
Her skin was delicate and pale, her features refined yet highly distinctive, stunning without being aggressive. Her facial structure was full, her bone structure elegant.
What added the most points was her demeanor—comfortable like touching a piece of jade in sweltering heat, translucent and soothing, rare and unattainable.
The person in charge smiled and said: “Of course.”
Who could refuse a beauty?
After thanking her, Yan Man received a business card.
“This is my contact information. Can we collaborate later in post-production?”
…
After accepting the card and taking a moment to compose herself, Yan Man walked into the bathroom.
As soon as she stood still, she locked eyes with Ye Lin.
The man was leaning on the sink, applying shaving foam with one hand.
Seeing her approach, his gaze flickered.
Without even thinking, she knew he would ask her to leave, but Yan Man spoke first, wiggling her fingers and proudly saying:
“They let me come in.”
Ye Lin lowered his gaze and said nothing.
He was filming a short clip of his daily shaving routine—nothing special, just his most natural state.
The lines of his jaw were impeccable; she hadn’t seen better.
His breath was moist, and the bathroom was filled with steam. He slightly raised his chin, placed the razor on his jawline, and slowly pulled it forward.
As he moved, his lips parted slightly, his lower lip glistening with a light red hue. His brow furrowed, his Adam’s apple bobbed, and his gaze was focused.
White foam piled up, leaving a clean trail behind.
Yan Man’s heart fluttered.
She didn’t know such actions could be so sensual.
Before she could process it, Ye Lin had finished.
As usual, he was clean and efficient.
He turned on the faucet, rinsing the razor and his fingers.
“Great job!” the photographer praised. “Thank you, teacher. We’re done! Have a good rest!”
The professional team came and went quickly, and soon, only the two of them were left in the room.
—The door was even thoughtfully closed.
After tidying up the bathroom and hanging the razor, Ye Lin turned around to find Yan Man waiting outside the door.
He frowned: “You’re still here?”
But she seemed interested in something, picked up the razor, fiddled with it, and asked: “Is this how you open it?”
A faint minty scent wafted from the man—common in the fresh mornings after washing up, an intimate allure.
But his tone was completely opposite. Frowning, he asked: “Why are you asking this?”
“To learn how to help you shave,” she teased, tilting her head. “So you can sleep five more minutes in the morning.”
“…”
She tilted her head, saying such things, yet her eyes were clear and bright, like a naive and pure fox spirit newly arrived in the human world.
After painting this grand picture, Yan Man remembered she wasn’t here to flirt.
She looked up and clarified: “By the way, about last night…I need to explain something to you.”
He seemed to sneer.
“What do you need to explain to me?”
“I’m afraid you misunderstood, afraid you’re mad at me,” Yan Man followed him back to the living room, mumbling, “We didn’t do anything. I’m not interested in Feng Ting, really.”
“Then who are you interested in?”
“Of course, I’m only interested in you, baby,” Yan Man blurted out, then continued, “Look, I’ve never called anyone else ‘baby.’”
As soon as she finished speaking, her phone vibrated—it was Zhou Xuan urging her to return.
Before leaving, Yan Man clung to the doorframe and declared her feelings.
Tears streaming down her face, her love was profound but fleeting.
“Please don’t misunderstand, baby. There’s only you in my heart, no one else.”
“The reason I’m alive is to stand before you and say I love you.”
“…”
Back in her room, Yan Man urgently asked: “What’s the matter?”
Zhou Xuan: “Oh, nothing. I just wanted to ask how to use this coffee machine. It keeps making noise.”
“…”
“You forgot to add water.”
After adding water for her, Yan Man pursed her lips, “I thought it was something big. It made me unable to properly communicate with my baby.”
Zhou Xuan was puzzled: “What baby?”
Yan Man raised an eyebrow: “Ye Lin, baby.”
Since she was already back, she took a shower, applied a face mask, and lay in bed scrolling through Weibo.
Opening the comments section of yesterday’s Weibo post, she discovered that the original author of this manga had commented on her post.
And her private inbox was flooded with messages urging her to post a selfie today.
Yan Man pouted and replied one by one.
…
At 11:30 PM.
Ye Lin completed his daily reading tasks and tossed the thick book onto the bedside table.
He lay down, and as part of his bedtime routine, he scrolled through Weibo.
He followed very few people, so upon refreshing, a certain post immediately caught his eye.
Under Yan Man’s selfie, the original author praised: 【Baby, you’re so beautiful!!】
She replied: 【Thank you, baby!!】
He hadn’t actually been following Yan Man, but the official account of the production reposted this interaction with the caption: 【Looking forward to the final perfect presentation~】
The word “baby” was too conspicuous to ignore.
Upon refreshing again, the production team reposted another of Yan Man’s new posts.
Yan Man: 【Babies, I really have no more stock T-T】
The post included two selfies. Unable to gather a third, she took a picture of her script.
It wasn’t hard to guess that fans were urging her to post pictures.
But none of that mattered.
The man clicked into the original post, and the top-right corner showed—
Views: 1.07 million.
Great, she called 1.07 million people “baby.”
“I’ve only called you baby,” “Living is just to say I love you,” “There’s only you in my heart”—these grand promises still rang in his ears, overturned in just a few hours, not even lasting 24 hours.
But soon, the grand promise maker extended an olive branch once again.
A notification slid across his phone—a new message from Yan Man.
Sheng Sheng Man: 【Baby baby, I’m going to sleep now.】
The man smirked.
Probably intending to pair it with a cute sticker, the “typing…” indicator lingered for a while. When Ye Lin glanced down again, a sticker occupied a quarter of the screen.
The image depicted a character holding a wine glass, with the caption:
Sister is just sweet-talking; sister doesn’t have you in her heart.
“…”
The next second, the sticker was hastily recalled.
Sheng Sheng Man: 【Sent the wrong sticker, baby.】
【I absolutely didn’t mean it! I’m not that kind of person!】
“…”
Ye Lin closed his eyes and directly turned off his phone.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Early the next morning, Yan Man woke up with a smile still lingering on her lips.
She couldn’t quite explain it, but she found it amusing.
She opened WeChat and noticed Ye Lin still hadn’t replied to her messages.
She guessed he was probably upset.
Nevertheless, she took the initiative, full of energy.
Sheng Sheng Man: 【Good morning, baby. Is there anything you want to eat? I’ll bring it for you.】
Half an hour later, Yan Man stood in a bakery, munching on a sandwich, her fingers tapping rapidly on the keyboard.
【Baby, reply to me?】
Five minutes later, a new message finally arrived.
Ye Lin: 【Don’t call me that.】
Sheng Sheng Man: 【Okay, baby. Are you not mad anymore? The sticker was really unintentional!】
Ye Lin: 【?】
Yan Man squinted at the question mark, interpreting its meaning as—
You dare mention the sticker?
So she obediently continued to apologize with a smile:
【I know I was wrong, baby.】
【Don’t call me baby.】
She deliberately teased: 【How do you punctuate this? Is it ‘Don’t call me, baby’?】
【You called me baby, wuwuwu, okay baby, let’s go to the civil affairs office tomorrow to get our marriage certificate!】
Ye Lin: “…”
Yan Man stared at the screen for a while, feeling she had angered him into silence again.
Troublesome oh_(:з」∠)_
A moment later, everyone met on set.
This time, Yan Man was shooting a solo scene and was led to another building by the assistant director.
Ye Lin glanced at his script for a while when his phone buzzed twice.
He opened it.
Sheng Sheng Man: 【I’m going to film now, baby~】
“…”
Expressionless, he navigated to the settings page and toggled a button on.
Today, Ye Lin’s first scene was a group shot.
By the time they finished, it was almost noon. He headed to the lounge and found Yan Man already sitting on the couch.
She looked up, chatting with someone next to her. Upon closer listening, she was saying—
“My wife gets mad when teased. See, she blocked me after just a few words.”
After finishing, she turned around, saw him, and gave a warm, affectionate smile.
Ye Lin: “…”
The man chose the seat farthest from her. Not long after, she sidled over.
Yan Man leaned close to his ear and whispered: “If you don’t unblock me soon, I’ll tell the whole crew that you’re my wife.”
The man frowned, bewildered: “Can you act normal for once?”
She seemed to change faces instantly, her cheerful grin vanishing. She wrinkled her nose slightly, looking hurt and pitiful:
“I turned into a weirdo because I fell in love with you.”
“…”
I don’t think so.
Yan Man didn’t get to play around much longer before the next scene began.
They filmed intermittently until it was almost dark, reaching the highlight of the day.
This scene was quite thrilling—it was bathroom play.
The director, fearing they wouldn’t loosen up, specially cleared the set.
The showerhead above continuously poured water, trickling down the walls. Yan Man leaned against the tiles, her hair thoroughly soaked.
She wore a beautiful red cheongsam, darkened to a deep crimson by the water, clinging wetly to her body and accentuating her curves.
The camera was close, focusing solely on her face.
Yan Man was indeed a bit nervous, her heart racing. With the evening chill and cold water from the shower, both her heart and body trembled slightly.
Her cheeks were dotted with water droplets, her pupils glistened black and bright, and a strand of hair clung to her cheek, fragile and pitiable.
She looked at Ye Lin, using her icy fingertips to hook his, trembling lightly as she spoke.
“If you can lean towards the camera later, can you help cover me a bit more?”
Another droplet of water hung from her chin.
The timid beauty exuded an indescribable allure.
Ye Lin looked down at her.
He had already entered his character’s state, his thick black lashes masking the surging emotions beneath. His entire body was drenched, his lips glistening with moisture.
Unconsciously, she began to lose track of whether she was the character or Yan Man.
Amidst the cold shivers, she looked into Ye Lin’s eyes and couldn’t resist pressing her fingers against the reddened corners of his eyes, then trailing them to his lips.
Everything was cold; she couldn’t distinguish whose temperature belonged to whom, who was colder.
Her voice was soft.
She murmured, “If only your eyes could always have only me in them.”
The next moment, her lips pressed against his. She smelled his breath, and the icy temperature slowly melted. Their breaths began to warm, intensify, grow hot.
Like frost melting under sunlight, she felt something peeling away from her, but the warmth didn’t come from external forces. It was the burning, scorching blood coursing through her veins, making her gradually become fluffy and supple.
From cold to hot, water cascaded down their faces, impossible to tell who caught more of it.
His kiss was like water, and in her haze, she couldn’t discern where the soft, cotton-candy-like sensation landed. Yet everywhere felt caressed by her lover’s presence, like feathers tickling, an itch she couldn’t stop.
Her fingers sank into his hair.
His kisses trailed downward, landing on her neck, her collarbone…
She squinted, but everything before her eyes was foggy. The lights scattered into halos, the sound of water rushed, and her ears buzzed incessantly.
Her unfocused pupils finally refocused.
The director’s voice came through the walkie-talkie: “Cut! Excellent! Amazing performance!”
Yan Man blinked twice, turned her head, and Ye Lin had already risen, turning off the shower.
The assistants rushed in first, handing towels to both of them.
For professional actors, the first thing after filming such a scene isn’t changing clothes but reviewing the footage.
Yan Man wrapped herself in a towel, following Ye Lin’s steps to check the monitor and confirm if a reshoot was needed.
Wrapped in white, she looked like a bloated rice dumpling.
After watching for a while, Yan Man sensed something amiss.
The man was tall, and inevitably had to bend down to view the footage. Her lips happened to be near his ear.
“Baby, you’re not planting a hickey on someone for the first time, are you?”
Google Sites
Report abuse