Embedded Files
Psst! We're moving!
After Yan Man returned to her room, she fell asleep immediately. Without taking a break for two days, it was soon the day of the finals’ short film broadcast.
The stakes were high. Although it was scheduled to air in the evening, the lead actors arrived at the studio in the morning to watch the final cut and confirm if there were any necessary revisions.
When she arrived, Yan Man heard that Ye Lin had already finished watching.
She exclaimed in surprise, “He’s already here? I heard from Simon that Fusheng Jiunian just wrapped up, didn’t they?”
“Yes,” the staff member replied, “He probably hasn’t rested much since he’s been busy.”
He really is dedicated, she thought. It’s her micro-film, and even though he’s busy, he arrived earlier than her.
Yan Man pulled over a chair and sat down, carefully watching the story unfold on the monitor.
There were no issues. The difficult scenes were handled well by both of them, and the revised lines added depth to the plot. Thanks to the ample time allocated, the post-production team delivered excellent special effects—worthy enough to be screened as a theatrical release.
After reviewing the film, Yan Man moved on to get her makeup done.
In another studio, the makeup room was connected to the lounge. As she pushed open the door, she noticed Ye Lin was already inside.
Thank goodness, after wrapping up Fusheng Jiunian , he finally wasn’t holding a script this time.
But he was sitting far away, so she couldn’t quite see what he was fiddling with.
The makeup artist pointed to a seat on the other side, signaling her to sit there.
Beside her, Bi Tan nudged Ye Lin, “Yan Man is here.”
He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to inform Ye Lin about this, nor did he understand why Ye Lin actually listened this time.
Without saying anything like, “What does it have to do with me?” the man turned his head slightly, his peripheral vision following her as she walked to the chair and sat down.
Yan Man adjusted her seat, then looked up, locking eyes with him in the mirror.
“Why are you staring at me?” Yan Man rubbed her cheek lightly, “Is there something on my face?”
The man withdrew his gaze. “...No.”
Shortly after, while applying foundation, Yan Man could still feel his faint, intermittent gaze.
She was certain it wasn’t her imagination, and she did feel somewhat guilty.
“Alright,” Yan Man admitted frankly, “Last night, I fed two out of the last three fish snacks to Nuomi, but it was because he kept begging me. I’ll return them to you later.”
“…………”
The makeup artist successfully steered the conversation elsewhere: “Teacher Manman, do you have a cat now?”
“Mm,” Yan Man smiled, gesturing with her hands, “It’s this small, all white, with heterochromatic eyes, super cute.”
The conversation shifted to cats. With so many cat owners around, everyone chimed in, and time passed quickly.
Lunch was provided by the production team. Since her company had some matters to attend to, Yan Man let Simon take the car. With nowhere else to eat, she decided to join Ye Lin in his vehicle.
His RV was spacious. Yan Man and Zhou Xuan sat on one side, while Ye Lin and Bi Tan occupied the other.
Using her chopsticks, Yan Man gently picked at her food, “I’m not eating this.”
Zhou Xuan, familiar with the routine, pulled out a small plate and placed it beside her. Yan Man meticulously separated the items she didn’t want to eat onto the plate.
Once she finished sorting, she began eating slowly. Twenty minutes later, Zhou Xuan and Bi Tan were called downstairs by the production team to coordinate some segments.
Zhou Xuan patted her shoulder, “You keep eating. I’ll be back once I’m done.”
Now alone in the RV, the cool breeze blew steadily. Yan Man tapped her foot to an invisible beat and finished the last bite of her sweet potato.
After eating, she couldn’t just sit around—it would make her gain weight—so she leaned against the doorframe for a bit. Under Ye Lin’s watchful eye, she yawned leisurely.
“I’m sleepy again,” she said.
“…”
Yan Man extended her hand, her fingertips lightly dusted with powder, “Can I borrow your coat to cover myself?”
The man took off his jacket and handed it to her. Without asking further questions, Yan Man skillfully adjusted the leather seat, reclining it backward, and lay down comfortably.
He certainly knows how to enjoy life, she thought. Even the sofa was the same model used by Yan Zong.
Handcrafted in Italy, less than ten pieces are released each year. Yan Zong treasures it immensely, lecturing at length—over ten minutes—on how to sit on it with reverence.
Yan Man tilted her head, lulled by this sense of familiarity, and soon drifted off to sleep.
Curling up, draped in his coat, her ankles exposed slightly. Perhaps feeling cold, she drew her legs closer.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ye Lin noticed and his fingers twitched slightly.
Turning his gaze toward her, he saw her sleeping soundly. Her hair swayed gently with the air conditioning, and her fingers stretched out slightly, reminiscent of a kitten’s light kicks in sleep. Unconsciously, her fingertips curled.
Ye Lin lowered his eyes.
A strange, unfamiliar sensation gripped his heart, as if someone had gently pinched it. His emotions were swayed by her, his feelings manipulated, his gaze firmly under her control. Even when she did nothing, he couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing at that moment.
He wanted to approach her, whether consciously or subconsciously.
Normally adept at analyzing people, the media often referred to him as a god who looked down on all beings—rational, detached, and precise in judging others’ emotions at any given moment. Yet, at this moment, he found himself incapable—
He began to feel lost, unsure of what to do.
This uncharacteristic surge of emotion, the uncontrollable behavior, the erratic heartbeat, and the burgeoning possessiveness—all defied logical explanation except for one reason.
He simply, purely, liked her.
Realizing his heart had untethered itself, he spent over a week repeatedly confirming, relentlessly questioning, until he finally arrived at this conclusion.
Stubborn people often deceive even themselves. Only now did he admit that part of the reason he joined this variety show was because of her; part of the reason he accepted the director’s offer was because she was his co-star. He made exceptions for her, became more attentive to his teammates because of her, detoured for her—
Until she began occupying an increasingly larger portion of his decisions, completely overturning his self-assured understanding of himself. At this moment, the tip of the iceberg of his affection surfaced, yet he still didn’t know how much lay beneath the surface.
This feeling was too foreign to him, so unexpected that even though he had played similar roles countless times, when it came to experiencing it firsthand, it was like reaching out only to pull back hesitantly.
Because he liked her, he saw a version of himself he had never encountered before—a stranger.
For the first time in his life, a person who never looked back with regret felt a twinge of something akin to remorse in his chest.
Fleeting, like the summer breeze that blows past before you can grasp it, dissipating into the humid air.
Convincing himself that he didn’t like her had taken every reason and justification. Admitting that he did, however, took only a few seconds.
When did he start liking her? In which second did he unknowingly fall?
—I think, he still needs some time to figure it out.
But it’s alright. There’s plenty of time. Through her and his memories, he would find the answer.
Yan Man shifted her legs, curling deeper into the coat, tucking her chin closer to her chest.
His fingertips paused for a moment before turning to the air conditioner controls, raising the temperature.
Yan Man eventually woke up to the commotion outside.
That nap was refreshing. She stretched lazily, struggling to sit up.
Simon shouted from outside, “Where is everyone? Are you up yet?”
Her body swayed, and she collapsed back down.
Ye Lin watched her. “...”
Her hand flailed in the air, battling internally for several rounds before she finally opened her eyes and got up.
She shook her head and handed the coat back to him.
The man stood beside her the entire time. After Yan Man finally finished tidying up, she glanced back at him before stepping out of the RV, casually remarking, “It’s just the finals. Why are you so nervous?”
“...”
Later that afternoon, they would shoot promotional content. Once that was done, it would be time for the live broadcast of the short film in the evening.
As Yan Man was busy in the studio, the buzz on gossip forums began to heat up.
[Shao Wei said on Weibo that he got injured and couldn’t finish filming the short. Is Ye Lin replacing him as the male lead tonight?!]
[Holy crap, is this real or fake?]
[I just saw it too. Thank goodness someone started a thread. I’m totally shocked… Yan Man, how dare you?]
[Even if she wins tonight, it won’t be honorable… Who doesn’t know Ye Lin’s influence?]
[Can’t she rely on herself? She said on stage that she’d work with Shao Wei, but now she’s replaced him with Ye Lin. Is Shao Wei’s injury even real?]
[I knew something was off about her on stage. So she had this trick up her sleeve all along. You can’t survive in the entertainment industry without some cunning.]
[Does Zhong Siyi know? Aren’t they competitors? Doesn’t she need the other party’s consent?]
[Look at her audacity. Did Zhong Siyi even have a chance to refuse?]
[True. Who in the industry would dare to deny Ye Lin’s face…]
[Yan Man must have no confidence in herself. She thinks she can’t compete with Zhong Siyi online.]
[Of course! Zhong Siyi has a few popular supporting roles under her belt and has been in the industry longer. She has great rapport with audiences.]
[Yan Man might have an edge in stage presence because she’s good at choosing personas—taking shortcuts, essentially—but in terms of acting, Zhong Siyi is way ahead of her.]
[Yan Man has never even done a xianxia drama, let alone period dramas. These genres require strong adaptability, and she definitely can’t match Zhong Siyi’s experience.]
[Who deleted my comment?]
[Never mind, don’t bother watching tonight. It’s already decided. I hope Zhong Siyi isn’t discouraged and doesn’t doubt herself. Her performance is genuinely good.]
[Yes! Even if Zhong Siyi doesn’t win tonight, it’s not shameful! In my heart, she will always be the champion, better than those who only know how to take shortcuts!]
[Zhong Siyi’s second place is first place in my heart!]
Just before the broadcast started, the comments overwhelmingly pivoted to “Zhong Siyi, the uncrowned queen.”
At 8 PM, the two short films went live simultaneously via separate links.
Yan Man’s short film was titled Mallow Mallow . Immediately, the chat exploded with messages.
[Yan Man, Mommy loves you!! (Screaming)]
[Here to support our cute little piggy! Darling, you look beautiful tonight!]
[Huh? Where’s Shao Wei?]
Ye Lin shifted his chair, entering the frame.
While waiting for the broadcast to begin, the chat erupted in astonishment:
[Am I seeing things?!?!]
[When did the lead actor change?! CP fans are overjoyed!!]
[Why did he move his chair? To get closer to his wife? (x]
[Help! I’m a level 12 superfan in Ye Lin’s fan circle, and I had no idea about this news!]
[Never mind, everyone. Stop promoting. The show’s about to start. Let’s focus on the performance.]
The story begins with an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes.
Abandoned by her mother due to severe illness, barely breathing, a passing immortal takes pity and infuses her heart with a soul bead, allowing her to survive.
She is adopted by an elderly man, but by the time she turns fifteen, he passes away.
Around this time, a wealthy family’s daughter falls gravely ill. A Taoist priest is summoned to seek a cure. Though unable to move heaven and earth to extend her life, the priest discovers that the girl harbors a soul-restoring pill within her.
If extracted, it could revive the dead and mend bones.
Thus, people rush madly to capture her, driven by the promise of a hefty reward. Though her palms brim with celestial energy, she can’t summon it.
Cornered at the edge of a cliff, three groups fight over her. She seizes the chance to escape but hears a loud shout: “She’s getting away! Master said, if you can’t capture her alive, kill her!”
A longbow is drawn, and an arrow strikes her ankle. Stumbling forward, the bells on her feet jingle.
The wind billows her loose robes. Exhausted, she collapses by a tree.
Poisoned arrows rain down on her, too fast for her to react. Just as they are about to pierce her heart, a sword slices through the air, splitting the arrows in half and embedding itself firmly into the ground.
Dazed, she looks up.
The light of dawn illuminates the token hanging from his waist.
Clad in a plain robe, the man stands alone before her.
He raises his eyes indifferently, his tone teasing yet carrying a hint of cool charm.
“Bullying a young girl—isn’t that a bit inhumane?”
[Thank you!! Thank you so much, Ye Lin!! How could Shao Wei ever pull this off!!!]
[I’m such a sucker for heroes rescuing maidens.]
[I’m simple-minded, but I love watching this.]
He saved her, scooping her up like some dangling accessory, but instead of lingering, he swiftly descended around the cliffside, causing her to panic. But all he offered was a soft laugh.
“Don’t be afraid.”
Halfway up the mountain, there was a small house that appeared to be his residence.
He settled her there and immediately found some golden wound powder for her, sprinkling it on her injuries.
This powder could neutralize a hundred poisons, but the pain it caused was excruciating—far beyond what an ordinary person could endure.
Yet, the expected cries of agony never came. He looked up and saw beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Her lips moved, but no words escaped.
He smirked. “A little mute?”
[WTF hahaha is Yan Man really playing a mute girl?]
[Ye Lin, how dare you laugh at her! Our baby must have been a mute in her past life, which is why she talks so much in this one!]
[You guys are real fans, seriously.]
She wasn’t actually mute; she had simply been too frightened earlier to remember how to speak.
The man snapped the arrow shaft embedded in her ankle. She flinched in pain but made no sound.
He looked at her for a moment, then chuckled again.
The next day, when it was time to apply medicine, he tossed her a wooden stick.
She stared at him, confused.
“Something to bite on,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “So you don’t keep biting your lips—I’ve already seen you draw blood.”
But she delicately furrowed her elegant brows.
He laughed. “What? Do you think it’s ugly?”
[You let her bite your mouth instead. Don’t you get it?]
[True. Ye Lin’s mouth isn’t bad-looking (nod).]
[Damn, you people really say anything, huh.]
After breaking the arrow shaft, she began applying the medicine herself in the following days.
Her leg healed quickly. In the meantime, he even took her hunting once, though she was utterly useless due to her lack of strength and only managed to participate in the final part—eating the meat.
She vaguely understood that he was a swordsman, and his most cherished possession was a sword called Baihe. Every night before bed, he would polish it and then sleep with it as his pillow.
When she gave him a puzzled look, he explained, “A wandering swordsman has only this sword as his companion, so it must be treasured and cared for.”
She nodded, pretending to understand, but her eyes betrayed a hint of sadness.
Unfortunately, he didn’t notice.
[Ye Lin! You jerk! Doesn’t she count as your companion too?!]
[Ye Lin: Character actions should not reflect on the actor.]
[Yan Man truly becomes whatever role she plays. This mute girl feels nothing like a chatterbox (?).]
[Mm, this kind of role heavily relies on conveying emotions through expressions, especially the eyes. Her acting skills are really underrated.]
In the blink of an eye, their separation approached. Though he never mentioned it, she had an inkling.
The frequency of carrier pigeons arriving grew, and he returned home later and later each night.
[Man: Falling for a man who doesn’t come home.]
The day before they were to part, something seemed to break loose within her, and she finally regained her ability to speak.
Seeing his retreating figure, she hurriedly tried to call out but realized she didn’t know his name.
“You…”
He turned around, eyebrows slightly raised in surprise. “So you’re not actually a little mute?”
That was the second-to-last thing he said before they parted.
The last thing he said was: “What ‘you’? Call me Brother.”
But that “Brother” never left her lips because early the next morning, before dawn, he left behind a letter and departed.
Since she possessed celestial energy and pretended to be mute to protect herself, he naturally assumed she had recovered and gained the ability to defend herself.
He left her a pouch of coins and a map showing the way out.
On the edge of the envelope lay a wide-brimmed hat to conceal her face.
Later, all those who came searching to kill her were dealt with by him. Wearing the hat ensured she wouldn’t face great danger.
His arrival and departure were both so casual, as if he were a wandering swordsman unburdened by romantic entanglements, dedicating his heart to admiring the beauty of the jianghu.
He left, but she couldn’t.
At the end of the letter were four words: See you in the jianghu.
How would they see each other again? And which jianghu?
When she met him, the crabapple flowers were in full bloom. Every year thereafter, when the crabapple blossomed, she returned to that place.
But he never came back.
And so her life continued in its ordinary way. She sought refuge in a household and lived a mundane existence.
Many came knocking, seeking familial ties, but she rejected them all.
When the lady of the house asked her why, she couldn’t quite explain.
She found it absurd.
She had fallen in love with someone but didn’t even know his name.
She had searched for him, sketching replicas of the token hanging from his waist and scouring the entire city, yet she failed to find another person with such a token.
For years, she searched, until she finally decided to leave it to fate. At the martial arts tournament arranged by the lady to find her a husband, she saw him again.
The night before the contest, during the lady’s birthday banquet held in the garden, she avoided the noisy main hall and wandered to a small pavilion at the back of the courtyard. There, she saw a familiar figure sitting sideways on the railing, drinking wine while gazing into the distance.
A petal from the crabapple tree floated into his cup. She froze, standing still, afraid to move.
[Ah, this scene is acted so well!]
[That mix of surprise and fear… The immersion is so strong I’m getting nervous just watching.]
The person she had searched for so long was right there, like a dream orchestrated by fate teasing her. She lifted her skirt and slowly, step by step, approached him, her gaze never leaving him, too afraid to blink.
As she drew near, he finally noticed and glanced at her.
Perhaps he had already sensed her presence earlier but simply didn’t bother speaking.
Pretending to be nonchalant, she sat beside him and placed a plate of pastries on the table.
He picked up a piece of osmanthus cake, chewed on it for a moment, then commented, “Too sweet.”
She softly agreed, “I think so too.”
Under the stone table, her fingers gripped her sleeves tightly, her tension palpable.
They sat across from each other in silence until the moonlight grew thicker. A chirping bird hopped onto the railing, and she turned her head to look. When she turned back, she saw him staring at her profile.
There was a mark on her neck that defied description.
Perhaps the fairy who saved her was the spirit of the mallow flower, imbuing her with a trace of celestial essence. On her neck were a few tiny petals—not birthmarks, but far prettier than any mark.
Thinking he might have recognized her, she touched the side of her neck.
But he said, “I once met a young girl somewhat like you.”
Her heart skipped a beat.
She remembered how young she had been back then, and now she looked completely different.
It made sense that he didn’t recognize her, but still, she felt a pang of disappointment.
She asked, “What happened afterward?”
“Afterward?” He smiled faintly, as if savoring the word, then replied, “A fleeting encounter—what else could there be?”
So, the four words written in the letter—See you in the jianghu —meant nothing to him.
She had searched for him for so long, but to him, she was merely a stranger passing by, perhaps a fragmented memory occasionally surfacing, incomplete even in his mind.
She turned her head away, holding back tears that threatened to spill.
Suddenly feeling defiant, she refused to speak further.
[Damn you heartless man! Get out! You don’t have a heart!!]
The martial arts contest concluded, and according to the results, she was to marry a wealthy merchant in the area.
On the day of her wedding, red decorations stretched for miles. Clad in a scarlet dress and wearing a mask as per local custom, she joined the bridal procession through the streets.
The bells on her ankles jingled, and the horse beneath her obediently followed the path. Passing by a shop, she overheard whispers.
“I wonder if the date was unlucky. On such a joyous occasion, word is that over at Ming Lake, someone is battling a water monster. They say he’s on the brink of death!”
“Really? What kind of Taoist priest is it?”
“Not a priest—it looks like a swordsman… Handsome fellow, with a token at his waist. One might mistake him for someone from the imperial court…”
Hearing this, her gaze sharpened.
Pulling out the identical token she had commissioned during her search for him, she anxiously asked, “Does the token look like this?”
“Yes, yes—it does! Little miss, where are you going—”
She yanked the reins hard, turned the horse around, and galloped toward the lakeside.
The wedding procession chased after her, but to avoid being weighed down, she shed her adornments.
Mask, hairpins, silk scarves, bells…
One by one, they were cast away in the wind. She spurred the horse forward, soon disappearing from sight.
Using the fastest speed she’d ever known, she arrived at the lakeside. From afar, she saw a massive beast wreaking havoc, its feet surrounded by corpses.
He wasn’t on the verge of death as they had said. Instead, he poured all his life’s sword energy into severing the beast’s limbs.
She rushed forward but was stopped midway.
The person blocking her path soared through the air—a venerable immortal. The old deity stood before her and asked, “Where are you going, little miss?”
“To save someone,” she replied.
“How will you save him? You possess no magical power. If you want to save him, you’ll have to offer your inner core.”
“Then so be it,” she said. “My life was saved by him—it rightfully belongs to him anyway.”
“Do you harbor feelings for him?” the deity leaned down and asked. “Do you know that the person you love… has no heart?”
Her eyes widened in shock.
“A thousand years ago, the demonic path destroyed heaven and earth, committing unspeakable crimes. The demon realm was annihilated by divine retribution, leaving behind only one son—him.”
“For hundreds of years, he has not been allowed to possess a heart. He wanders between hell and the mortal world, tasting the bitterest suffering of life to atone for his ancestors’ sins.”
Her voice choked. “But those weren’t his crimes. He shouldn’t have to bear the punishment.”
“But someone must.”
…
She asked, “What is the greatest suffering in his mortal life?”
“To love and not be loved in return.”
“But he has no heart.”
The deity explained gently: “To watch someone he loves die before him, unable to feel love or shed tears—that is the ultimate suffering.”
As if realizing something, her eyelashes fluttered.
“That person… was me, wasn’t it?”
“…Yes.”
[So it was a predetermined ending from the start quq]
[Turns out he really doesn’t have a heart. We misjudged him…]
[Sob sob sob sob, writer, how will you repay us for the debt owed to Yan and Ye?]
“Though it’s fate,” the deity said, “you can still choose to refuse. Leave now without looking back, and he will forever fall into hell, unable to return.”
She asked, “What if I give him my inner core?”
“He can return from hell to the mortal world.”
…
[But why does it have to be her doing this?!]
[The fairy who saved her altered the Book of Fate without permission, so she must pay a price. But she could have chosen to walk away, right?]
[A guess, not necessarily correct: The female lead might be a celestial being undergoing her ascension trial.]
[That’s possible too! Feels like the writer left so many foreshadowing clues!]
Without a moment’s hesitation, she said, “Then I’ll give him my inner core.”
“This is indeed possible,” the deity cupped his hands together, “but little miss, you will endure the pain of having your heart carved out—for someone who has no heart and cannot shed tears. Is it worth it?”
Amidst the roaring wind, she smiled faintly.
“If we always questioned whether something is worth it, wouldn’t this life be unbearably dull?”
The beast was subdued, but at the cost of him pouring out all his cultivation.
He had no heart, his spiritual energy depleted. Starting from his palms, his body began turning transparent—a sign that he was about to vanish into dust.
Memories from his past life surged forth: endless hells filled with demons and monsters. He closed his eyes, stumbling half a step.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw someone rushing toward him. In his daze, she resembled the little girl he had picked up somewhere long ago—one afternoon, her nose smudged with dirt, running toward him with two tiny mushrooms cradled in her hands like treasures, offering to split them equally.
Now, too, she ran toward him, her lips pale, clutching something unknown in her hands. Stumbling and falling, she collapsed in front of him just as she reached him.
She no longer had the strength to hold herself up and collapsed against his shoulder, struggling to force out a smile.
She tried to speak lightly, but tears streamed uncontrollably down her face.
She thought, these words were long overdue. If only she had said them sooner, would things have turned out differently?
“Do you remember saving a child?” Her trembling fingertips traced the outline of his face as she whispered, “She spent her entire life searching for you.”
The man’s body jolted violently.
“You said we’d meet again in the jianghu. She was so foolish, returning every year when the crabapple blossoms bloomed, waiting for you.”
“You had a token at your waist. She sketched it and searched everywhere, but could never find you. She feared you were dead, crying even in her dreams.”
“The day you two met again, she thought you might recognize her. At that moment, she believed that if you had just said the word, she would have followed you without hesitation.”
“On the day of her wedding, even as she stepped out of the estate’s gates, she still hoped that if you appeared, she wouldn’t marry anyone else—only you.”
“But no matter how much she calculated, she could never imagine that you would never be able to love her.”
A hollow ache began to spread across her chest, and her voice finally broke into sobs.
“I fell in love with someone, but I didn’t even know who he was when I did.”
“If given another chance, even knowing we’d part ways again, before leaving, I would ask for his name—”
“So that in the temple of fate, before the Old Man of the Moon, I could bow eighteen thousand times, praying for our destinies to be tied together.”
“Praying that along this long, drifting journey of life, if he ever developed feelings, he would look back at me.”
She placed her inner core into his heart and softly whispered, “This is where my life ends.”
“In the next life, will you carry my heart and love me in return?”
Above, the clouds blotted out the sun, and fierce winds whipped through the air. Her red robes fluttered wildly as she closed her eyes.
The inner core embedded itself into his heart, but the sensation was akin to being torn apart.
His hands clenched tightly over his chest, as if trying to rip it out, hoping to bring her back to life—even if it meant descending into hell once more, he couldn’t bear to see her suffer any longer.
But it was impossible. It was truly impossible. The person in his arms no longer breathed—it was his destined calamity.
He doubled over, coughing up a mouthful of blood. His fingers, gripping hers, revealed strained tendons, the knuckles white. Against the will of heaven, tears of blood streamed down his face.
Later, people heard that a swordsman began frequenting a temple. Always alone, his face devoid of expression, he entered the Hall of the Old Man of the Moon each time. Before his death, he bowed eighteen thousand times, praying for one last glimpse of her on the road to reincarnation.
As the words “The End” flashed on the screen, the chat exploded like a floodgate had been opened.
[I’m crying like a dog…]
[Thanks, writer, for giving me something to cry myself to sleep over tonight. I’ll definitely sleep well after all this.]
[Holy sht! Holy sh t! AHHHHH none of the four collaborative short films had a happy ending, not ONE!!! (screaming)]
[Just stab me already.]
[Yan Man is the champion, right? She has to be! Quick, give me their second collaboration where Ye Lin chases after his wife in the show. Don’t make me beg on my knees!]
Meanwhile, the actor’s official blog quickly tallied the votes: Zhong Siyi had fifty million likes, while Yan Man received one hundred and ten million—more than double the former.
Due to Ye Lin’s involvement, arguments erupted under the announcement post on Weibo.
[How dare Yan Man even promote this? How dare she participate in the competition with Ye Lin as her partner? Everyone knows how much of her vote count is inflated. Ninety million of those votes belong to Ye Lin, don’t they?]
The official blog responded: [The originally scheduled lead actor, Shao Wei, was unable to participate due to injury, leaving only three days for filming. The mentor stepped in to save the situation. According to Teacher Yan Man’s request, to ensure fairness in the vote count, Teacher Zhong Siyi’s team had 86.02 million fans, while Yan Man’s team had 106.82 million. The votes were adjusted according to the fan ratio (0.8052799), rounded to seven decimal places. Specific vote counts can be viewed by clicking on the image. Thank you for your attention.]
[What does that mean?? Did Yan Man’s votes get discounted??]
[Yes, click on the image. Her original like count was 136 million, but it was reduced proportionally to match Zhong Siyi’s fan base.]
[Holy sh*t… She’s bold!]
[She didn’t want people to say she was riding on Ye Lin’s popularity. She wanted to win on her own merits. She’s not someone who takes shortcuts—she’s very clear-headed.]
[Yan Man has always been upright and fair. Even though her original partner, Shao Wei, with ten million fans, withdrew without complaint or request for recalculation, she voluntarily asked for the adjustment after Ye Lin filled in. This shows her integrity.]
[As the stronger party, she pursued fairness; as the seemingly weaker side, she didn’t demand special treatment. This girl is truly strong and likable.]
[And let’s not forget, the other team had a full week to shoot, while she only had three days—and she still pulled it off beautifully. That’s not easy.]
The person who had been relentlessly questioning the official blog posted over a dozen accusatory comments tagging the production team.
Once the official blog responded, they immediately went silent.
Some commenters dug up the person’s profile—it turned out they were a fan of Zhong Siyi.
Yan Man’s fans provided visual data charts: [No wonder they’re throwing such a fit, desperate to save face, huh?]
[If you insist on fairness, let’s break it down. Yan Man’s votes were multiplied by 0.8, and Ye Lin didn’t participate in any promotions. The male lead’s fan circle was only notified after the show ended. The total promotional reach came from a single Weibo post by Yan Man, which garnered twenty million views.]
[Look at how much Zhong Siyi’s team milked her—three promotional posts per day, totaling four hundred million views combined. And yet, Yan Man still crushed her by double the votes. Since each person could only vote once, there was no way for you to inflate the numbers, huh?]
Within ten minutes of the official blog announcing the results, #YanManChampion# shot to the top of the trending list, closely followed by #ZhongSiyiUncrownedQueen#.
Bystanders were baffled: [Who actually won here? How did the loser manage to act like the winner too?]
Soon, screenshots of pre-broadcast posts and Zhong Siyi’s sudden surge on the trending list emerged.
[Before the competition, a mysterious hot post appeared mocking Yan Man for being manipulative. Any defense of her was deleted, and almost all remaining comments praised Zhong Siyi. It’s clear who deployed the water army.]
[Zhong Siyi’s trending topic clearly bought its way to the top. When it suddenly appeared in second place, the hottest comment inside only had a few hundred replies. Who would believe it wasn’t purchased? Yan Man’s trend had tens of thousands of comments—clearly an attempt to overshadow her unfairly.]
[LMAO, this is worse than the fake data in my thesis.]
[Fun fact: That post was sent exactly after Zhong’s team watched Yan Man’s short film. So funny—did Yan Man’s acting scare you that much?]
[This is what happens when you know you’re going to lose and desperately try to save face. ROFL, did you already know you’d lose before the broadcast?]
[Zhong’s team is notorious for marketing stunts. Look at this crisis PR—they got utterly trounced by Yan Man but started hyping topics even before the competition began. Afterward, they immediately spun it to make it seem like Yan Man didn’t deserve her win and that Zhong Siyi’s skills far surpassed hers.]
[Kicking one down to lift the other up is disgusting.]
[Stop bullsh*tting. Is Zhong Siyi’s exaggerated acting supposed to be skillful?]
[Passerby here. Objectively, Yan Man’s acting is better. Zhong’s acting is fine for supporting roles but can’t carry a lead—which is why her starring projects keep flopping.]
[Who says Zhong Siyi’s projects always flop? Can’t you see people overseas are watching them?]
[Zhon fan here, speaking from my main account.]
[HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!]
From 8 PM to 11 PM, the buzz around Yan Man winning the championship kept Weibo lively.
What no one knew was that on another platform, a short video blogger’s casual clip edit had Yan Man trending for over two hours.
The scene showed her galloping on horseback, her silk scarf billowing dramatically in the wind. Her long hair was swept into disarray, creating a stunningly beautiful image. With one hand gripping the reins, her body leaned slightly forward as she reached up to remove her mask, revealing a face that was otherworldly, ethereal, and breathtakingly lovely.
Her movements were clean and precise as she discarded her mask and accessories behind her. The shot was majestic and awe-inspiring without losing its heroic edge.
The caption was a line she had thought of herself: [“Do you remember saving a child? She spent her entire life looking for you.”]
The clip quickly garnered over five million likes, undeniably viral content.
Once people realized, it wasn’t long before someone reposted it on Weibo.
[Guys, check out Yan Man’s clip with over five million likes. Truly unparalleled—from her face to her acting, she crushes everyone else.]
Finally, the conversation returned to tonight’s highlight:
[Her acting is genuinely amazing. Playing a sixteen-year-old girl felt completely natural—no forced cuteness or awkwardness, but still adorable.]
[So many scenes were absolutely stunning. This is my iconic moment: Red-Robed Little Yan forever!]
[Yan Man...]
[Her acting was incredible. In the last two monologues, she switched pronouns twice—first appearing as if she were an observer filled with regret, and then finally admitting it was her own story, but with a sense of acceptance, as if she had no regrets even in death… Ughhhh, please give us a second collaboration between Yan and Ye! Can we have a little sweet romance drama?]
[Yan Man is the champion! Only she deserves the title! There’s no such thing as an “uncrowned queen.” First place is first place, and second place is second place! The screenwriter for the custom show has already followed her—top-tier talent deserves top-tier treatment!]
[#YanManChampionWithoutQuestion#]
[Looking forward to tomorrow’s award celebration banquet!]
…
The topic shifted back to acting. Zhong Siyi’s team failed in their attempt to brainwash the audience, and all discussions about her were now filled with doubts and ridicule regarding her acting skills. Many began questioning what gave her company the audacity to stir up trouble after quietly accepting second place.
The trending hashtag #ZhongSiyiUncrownedQueen# didn’t survive the night and was quickly removed.
As soon as the votes were tallied, Yan Man was whisked away by the production team to film advertisements and promotional materials.
Since Ye Lin was the mentor, they shot together during the latter half of the session, and by the time they wrapped up, it was already past midnight.
The buzz on Weibo gradually died down. Yan Man learned about tonight’s dramatic twist from Simon.
Simon couldn’t stop laughing: “If it really was Zhong Siyi’s team behind it, their angle and planning were clever, but unfortunately, they misjudged the direction of public opinion. If they hadn’t targeted you, this move might’ve actually won them some casual fans while also brainwashing others.”
“Thank goodness you told me beforehand about the vote recalculation,” Simon said. “No wonder you insisted that Ye Lin shouldn’t promote it—it all makes sense now.”
“I didn’t think that far ahead,” Yan Man replied. “I just wanted to see how people truly evaluate me without any interference.”
She disliked fake fan armies and manipulating trends. She wanted to clearly understand where she stood so she could accurately assess her next steps.
“Well, I’m thrilled,” Simon said smugly. “The simplest yet most infuriating response to someone who comes at you first—their money went to waste.”
After a full day of operation—and possibly days of prior planning—Zhong Siyi’s team had taken a massive fall. Not only did they lose their financial investment, but the backlash from the public was likely enough to haunt them.
Victory without arrogance, defeat without despair. Yan Man returned to the hotel and began tidying up her room.
Of course, she was happy that her acting was recognized, but she didn’t let it go to her head. Compared to many excellent actors, she still had a long way to go.
Moving forward, she would definitely deliver a representative work.
For her supportive fans to see, and for those skeptical viewers to witness.
After finishing cleaning her room, she went to Ye Lin’s suite to pick up her cat.
She pressed the doorbell, and after a moment, he opened the door.
Yan Man tilted her head. “Were you asleep?”
“No,” he said, drying his hair with a towel. “I just finished showering.”
She nodded, crouching slightly to look for the cat.
Strangely, every other time she visited, Nuomi would enthusiastically greet her.
But today, perhaps sensing she was here to take him away, Nuomi darted around the room, hiding in every corner and refusing to let her near.
After much effort, Yan Man managed to lure him with a cat treat and placed him into the carrier. Still reluctant, Nuomi sniffed at Ye Lin’s cat through the mesh.
Realization dawned on her, and she tapped Nuomi’s nose lightly. “You’re unwilling to leave Paper Towel, aren’t you?”
The kitten nudged her with his wet nose.
“You can’t stay at someone else’s house forever, though. You’re a little girl, and he’s a boy.”
Ye Lin watched as Yan Man reached out and gently rubbed Nuomi’s head.
She said, “This kind of thing requires initiative from the boy, you know?”
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