The power supply in the mountains was unstable, and the overhead light flickered faintly, casting a dim glow.

Under this dim light, Yan Man’s expression was complex.

Thinking of Bian He’s face, Ye Lin’s Adam’s apple bobbed again, his throat dry.

He asked, “Is it hard to answer?”

“No,” Yan Man shook her head. “I just didn’t expect you to scare me half to death just to ask why I didn’t follow you back on Weibo.”

“…”

After a long pause, Yan Man calmed herself down and unlocked her phone.

“I was thinking about whether to follow you back or not when my agent came to talk to me about work, so I forgot.” She opened the keyboard and searched, then clicked the follow button for the top-tier user with ninety million followers.

Yan Man handed over her phone. “Here, followed.”

Ye Lin glanced down and saw his name above Bian He’s. On the bright side, he was now the first person she saw when opening her follow list.

With such self-consolation, the man’s furrowed brows finally relaxed a bit.

“I seem to be your…ninety-millionth follower?” She refreshed the page, then generously waved her hand. “You’re welcome.”

“…”

As they spoke, the show’s producer, with sharp hearing, pulled open the door and walked out.

“Teacher Ye? You really came?” The producer quickly said, “Why are you standing at the door! Come in, come in, join us for dinner!”

“No need,” Yan Man said. “He just came to…”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bian He inside. The man’s uncertain steps halted, and he nodded toward her. “Let’s go in.”

…

Yan Man didn’t understand. Why did Ye Lin end up sitting down after coming just to ask her a question?

There were many guests this time, and quite a few people were gathered around the table. Upon seeing Ye Lin, everyone was surprised and began to rise and offer their seats.

Yan Man had never seen such a scene, but the man was already used to it. Without putting on airs, he had the waiter bring an extra set of utensils and a chair, seating himself nearby.

Yan Man alternated between scrolling through Weibo and listening to their conversation—about upcoming movies, who encountered well-connected stars, and someone’s ambiguous sexual orientation…

Everyone was curious about the top-tier star, but he was taciturn, exuding an aloof and detached aura. Although some artists frequently glanced over, no one dared to speak up.

Later, somehow, it turned into a matchmaking session, with everyone talking about introducing each other to potential boyfriends or girlfriends. Amidst the lively chatter, only Ye Lin and another MC, Nie Jianglan, remained silent.

Bian He explained to her, “That MC, Nie Jianglan, is married, so she doesn’t participate in these topics.”

Yan Man thought for a moment. “Yeah, I think I’ve worked with her wife before.”

Bian He: “As for Teacher Ye—”

Yan Man looked up, following Bian He’s gaze toward Ye Lin, only to meet his eyes unexpectedly.

Ye Lin was also looking in their direction.

Yan Man pursed her lips and gestured for Bian He to stop. “Don’t say anything bad about him. He’s very sensitive; if you say something, he’ll immediately notice.”

“Look, he’s looking at us.”

…

Bian He rubbed the back of his neck again. “I wasn’t saying anything bad about him.”

He was just curious. Nie Jianglan didn’t participate because she was married, so why didn’t Teacher Ye join in? Did he have a wife too?

After the meal, an MC suggested taking a group photo.

Since the round table wasn’t convenient for photos, everyone gathered together. As they moved around, Bian He noticed that the spot next to Yan Man was empty.

She was busy typing on her phone, probably discussing the donation of supplies to the mountainous area.

Bian He lifted his leg, about to walk over, when suddenly, a gust of wind passed by. A certain top-tier star quickened his pace, striding past him, and stood in the spot he intended to occupy.

After some thought, Bian He also went over and stood next to Ye Lin.

This group photo was quickly posted to Weibo by MC Kang Nan. Normally, Kang Nan’s posts received around a thousand comments, but this time, it skyrocketed to over ten thousand.

[Thanks, Brother Nan, for today’s hardworking Little Yan Man~]

[Cranberry Report: Brother Nan looks great!]

After a few comments from Yan Man’s fans, things took a subtler turn…

[??? Top-tier star? Ye Lin filmed this show too??]

[No, I didn’t see his name in the official announcement before filming started, nor after it ended.]

[I have a bold idea…]

[I suspect my idea is the same as yours…]

[Thanks, Brother Nan, tonight’s food is all thanks to you!]

If the comments under Kang Nan’s post were relatively restrained to avoid offense, the CP fans in the super-topic were utterly unrestrained.

Yan-Ye Clarity Expert: [Can you believe it? Someone nervously ran to Fast Burn Time to chase after their wife!]

The accompanying images were Kang Nan’s original photo and a cropped shot of the two standing together.

[Haha, Ye Lin dressed in black, completely out of place with everyone else wearing the show’s outfits.]

[Ye Lin: I am more noble than you; I’m here to find my wife.]

[Ye·Suddenly realized my wife only followed Bian He and not me·Lin: What are you waiting for? Hurry up and drive over!]

[False Mountain, I want to see them behind the false mountain...]

[Put some pants on, dammit!]

In the end, everyone concluded satisfactorily, adding a new book title to Ye Lin’s repertoire—

[Ye Lin: Me and My Million Rivals ]

On the way back to the hotel, Yan Man was still in shock.

She asked Simon, “Can you believe it? Men’s pride is terrifying. He appeared like a ghost just to ask if I followed him or not?!”

“It’s not men’s pride—it’s the pride of a top-tier star.” Simon rubbed his nose. “Look at how few people he follows on Weibo. Not even his own studio. Finally, he takes the initiative to follow the champion of his group, and not being followed back would be too embarrassing!”

Simon: “I totally get it. I once tried to resolve my feud with Bi Tan. I humbled myself and followed him, but guess what? He dared not follow me back?!”

Yan Man played with her phone. “What if he didn’t see it, like me?”

“That’s not my problem!” Simon said. “Then I blocked him. Hmph, reconciliation? Maybe in the next life!”

“…”

Yan Man didn’t return to the hotel until the early hours of the morning. Fortunately, her schedule for the next day wasn’t until the afternoon, so she slept until ten.

Just after finishing her skincare routine, Simon arrived with breakfast.

Opening the door, Yan Man looked at the flowers in his arms. “What’s this? Were you hit on today?”

“No, I passed by the front desk. Someone sent these for you, specifically addressed to Room 3106.” Simon handed her the flowers. “I scanned them with a detector—no hidden cameras or anything.”

Yan Man was surprised. “Hidden cameras?”

Simon: “Yes, some obsessive fans hide cameras in gifts to spy on celebrities’ lives. It’s scary. But these are just regular flowers, probably from a fan. You can keep them.”

It seemed to be the first time she’d received flowers from a fan, so Yan Man was delighted. She picked them up and smelled them.

The pink roses emitted a faint fragrance and were arranged beautifully. She searched for a while but couldn’t find a card with a note.

Perhaps they didn’t want to disturb her life.

Her morning was brightened by a bouquet of flowers. Humming a tune, Yan Man washed an empty vase in the hotel room, picked two roses, trimmed the stems diagonally, and placed them in the vase, adjusting them slightly.

They looked beautiful.

In the afternoon, it was time for the script reading session for the anthology series The Last Sound , co-starring Bian He.

Director Ke Qing was indeed meticulous. Generally, script readings were only held for TV dramas and films. For short anthology series that could be filmed in a few days, many directors wouldn’t bother gathering the actors for such a formal meeting.

Yan Man arrived early, and after sitting for a while, the others gradually arrived.

Ke Qing hugged her warmly and pointed at her. “Even prettier than in your photos.”

The script reading lasted until evening, and Yan Man gained a lot of insights. She filled the margins of the script with dense notes and came up with many new ideas for acting.

Filming officially began the next day. After some initial adjustments with Bian He, they finally found their rhythm by the afternoon.

Around six o’clock, Yan Man finished work and returned to the hotel.

The surroundings were quiet, so Yan Man turned on the TV to liven up the room.

Simon planned to double-check the schedule before heading home to rest.

“Tomorrow’s shoot starts at eight. You can wake up at six-thirty. These next couple of days will be focused on filming, nothing else.”

“Oh, by the way, the custom drama team has been auditioning male leads recently. They’re currently considering a few candidates and wanted to ask for your opinion.”

Since it was a custom drama tailored for her, her feelings about the male actors would significantly affect the chemistry of the couple, so the production team valued her input.

“Sure,” Yan Man said. “Let me take a look.”

Simon showed her the audition materials, divided into three categories: self-introduction, line delivery skills, and angle display. All the actors were names she recognized.

Yan Man lowered her head to look, remaining silent for a long while.

At 9:30 PM, the award ceremony concluded.

Ye Lin departed from backstage.

A light drizzle began to fall. In his hand, he held the trophy, escorted by an attendant holding an umbrella from the entrance of the banquet hall to the car.

Tonight’s event combined an awards ceremony with a dinner banquet. He found the subsequent mingling and clinking of glasses too noisy and left early.

Outside the roped-off area, photographers captured this moment with their cameras held high.

The night blurred into a deep, thick blackness. Behind him, the faint glow from the banquet hall outlined his tall figure. The curve of his fingers gripping the trophy was elegant, the bones of his palm clearly defined.

His black shoes splashed through the rain as he walked briskly. The umbrella above him deepened the atmosphere, adding an air of unattainable nobility. Yet, even after leaving the glitz and glamour, he still carried a cool, damp aura akin to the rainy night.

The night was too quiet. His silence imbued him with an aloof coldness. As he bent to get into the car, the rain was shut out.

That set of photos quickly went viral, trending on Weibo. The internet buzzed with admiration for how perfectly the rainy night complemented the cold, handsome man.

It was as if no one could approach him. He looked down upon the world from his lofty perch, untouchable even in darkness.

Inside the car, the “aloof” god at the center of the top searches was scrolling through photos.

Bi Tan: [I’m at the flower shop. These are all the floral arrangements they have prepared for tomorrow. Which bouquet would you like to send her?]

After looking for a while, Ye Lin furrowed his brow.

[None of them look good.]

He said: [Give me the address of the flower shop. I’ll do it myself.]

Bi Tan: [??????????????????]

Bi Tan: [You’re going to learn flower arranging?]

[Is that a problem?]

[Why learn flower arranging?]

This question was almost rhetorical. Of course, it was for her.

The bouquet he chose yesterday morning was pre-made. He sent it over at noon but didn’t know if she liked it.

Ye Lin didn’t bother replying further. Soon, Bi Tan sent over the address.

The car made a U-turn halfway and headed towards a bustling commercial street filled with vibrant life.

He didn’t manage to learn flower arranging today because all the bouquets had already been sold out. Upon inquiry, it turned out that since Ye Lin was attending an event nearby, the flowers had been pre-sold.

Ye Lin: [...]

However, tonight wasn’t without its gains. He had already pre-selected a florist teacher—a Frenchman who rarely returned and didn’t recognize many domestic celebrities, making their interactions much more relaxed.

Moreover, the shop excelled in custom orders and maintained strict confidentiality.

It was very late when he left the flower shop. The roads gradually emptied. Ye Lin suddenly realized he hadn’t taken a walk in a long time.

Being in the entertainment industry seemed to leave no personal time.

Even wearing a hat and mask couldn’t prevent recognition. Worse still, it might cause traffic congestion on the entire street, posing safety hazards. Taking walks and having private time had become distant memories for him. But on this night, for some reason, he suddenly wanted to stroll along the riverbank.

The innermost small streets were sparsely populated, with no streetlights. He finally removed his mask.

The faint scent of osmanthus lingered in the air, fresh and clean, refreshing his lungs—such a long-forgotten feeling of clarity.

Standing here, he suddenly thought, if she were by his side right now...

It would be nice.

The man lowered his head and scrolled through her Weibo. There were no new posts.

At the top of the screen were simply the two characters “Yan Man,” followed by a small “V” in the lower right corner of her avatar, indicating her verified status.

After gazing for a while, he put away his phone and got into the car.

This night seemed especially long.

Early the next morning, he received a message from the flower shop and headed there.

On the way, Bi Tan incessantly chattered in the car: [In my lifetime, I never thought I’d see you learning flower arranging for someone?]

The man paused. [Isn’t sending flowers an essential part of courting a girl?]

[Yes, but most people just buy something off the shelf—it’s the thought that counts. But are you sure you don’t want to sign it? She won’t know it’s from you.]

Ye Lin leaned back, slowly tapping the armrest. [No need.]

Not for now.

“Wait—” Bi Tan suddenly realized. If not for the car roof, he would’ve jumped three feet into the air. [You just said, what are you doing?!?!]

The man spoke calmly, his tone slow, as if stating the most ordinary thing.

“Yes, I’m courting her.”

Bi Tan: [You’re starting already? Weren’t you still studying the other day?]

“Study first, then act. Otherwise, what’s the point of studying?”

“...”

That made sense.

Respecting his method of pursuit, Bi Tan refrained from giving bad advice and accompanied the man out of the car and into the room.

Ye Lin: [Why are you following me?]

“Hey, although I’m not doing anything,” Bi Tan was quite self-aware, “I can keep you company and chat.”

Ye Lin understood: [To annoy me?]

“...”

Today’s flowers were pre-ordered by Ye Lin last night—six Ice Blue roses paired with baby’s breath. Since these weren’t pre-made arrangements, everything needed to be done by hand. The roses had many thorns, so he meticulously removed them one by one with a de-thorning tool.

Bi Tan, sitting idly, felt bored.

He suddenly leaned over, coaxing gently: [Don’t you think life without filming is pretty boring? Don’t you feel aimless after wrapping up your last project? Why don’t we take on another one...]

Ye Lin: [No.]

“You didn’t even let me finish before rejecting it. How boring.” Bi Tan cupped his face, unsurprised as he had already anticipated the response. “So you’re really not taking any roles? Not interested in TV dramas or movies?”

“No.”

An identical reply.

“Alright, I’ll decline them later.” Bi Tan felt a pang of regret, unconsciously pondering aloud, “I wonder what Teacher Yan is doing right now?”

Upon finishing, unaware of the dagger he was about to thrust into his boss’s heart, he added affectionately: [She’s probably filming the redemption-themed anthology series with Bian He, where they cure each other’s autism.]

Ye Lin: [...]

“I didn’t ask you to be so detailed.”

After a pause, Ye Lin added, “Your bonus for this month is gone.”

“....................”

Bi Tan groaned in frustration, deciding he couldn’t suffer alone. He picked up his phone and called the production team.

“Hello? Ah, Teacher Zheng? Yes, yes, yes, I wanted to talk to you about the drama. Sorry, I tried negotiating, but it seems we still can’t take it. Let me treat you to dinner later as an apology, alright?”

“We’ll definitely collaborate when there’s an opportunity.”

Ye Lin listened to his agent repeat the same evasive tactics, but something felt off—

Bi Tan: [Really? So none of the actors currently selected for Yan Man’s drama are particularly liked by her?]

“And did she mention liking Ye Lin? Oh, not really, huh.”

Ye Lin: [...]

Bi Tan: [I understand you think they’ve collaborated many times, and the call for a second collaboration for this custom script is high. It’s not like we’re being rash; it’s just that Ye Lin has been too busy...]

After a pause, Ye Lin interrupted: [What drama are you rejecting?]

Bi Tan covered the receiver: [Yan Man’s custom drama.]

“....................”

It felt like an eternity, yet also just a fleeting moment. Ye Lin set down the flowers in his hands: [Let me see the script.]

Bi Tan immediately rushed out, shouting as he went: [Hold on, Teacher Zheng! There might be a change! Let me grab the script from the car!]

Three minutes later, the hot-off-the-press script was in his hands.

Ye Lin: [Why didn’t you tell me?]

Bi Tan was also stunned: [Didn’t I just tell you?]

“...”

“Yes, I know there were unexpected circumstances, but I figured the chances of you taking on a TV drama were slim anyway. If it weren’t for Yan Man being cast as the female lead, I wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

The man removed his gloves and opened the script.

Bi Tan: [Because you always have to read the script before accepting a role, but honestly, it’s not fully written yet. Don’t mind the details too much. Also, the script hasn’t been shown to her yet. Once the final version is confirmed, it’ll be given to her.]

“So there might be some intimate scenes, but if she disagrees, they’ll be cut...”

Ye Lin flipped through the script. Five minutes later, he pointed to all the highlighted pages spread out on the table.

No fewer than five bed scenes—in a cave, by the seaside, in a bathtub, in the woods, and returning to the original bed...

As for kissing scenes, just from the stack he skimmed, they had kissed ten times, with one being an extended French kiss.

Ye Lin: [And you call this ‘a bit’?]

“She hasn’t seen it yet. Who knows, maybe she’ll delete them all after reading it,” Bi Tan said. “The screenwriter’s quite wild, right? Even I feel shy reading it.”

“...”

After some thought, Bi Tan added: [Besides, audiences love this kind of thing nowadays.]

Thinking about it, Bi Tan felt more confident: [Who doesn’t love凰(huang)?]

“...”

Ye Lin remained deep in thought.

Retiring from the industry was a decision made years ago. Once he accepted a role...

Bi Tan: [Let me show you the male actors the production team has contacted.]

Flipping through the videos one by one, they were all actors around her age.

Bi Tan: [All idol drama veterans, extremely skilled at seducing women. No need to say anything about their kissing scene experience. Three of them have already followed Yan Man.]

Ye Lin: [...]

Bi Tan: [If you hadn’t agreed today, the production team would consider reaching out to Bian He.]

“Yeah, the one currently filming the redemption-themed anthology series with her where they warm each other’s hearts—”

Ye Lin: [Accepted.]

Bi Tan: [...]

The man gathered the scattered script pages neatly and turned his head: [When does filming start?]

Chapter 38: Follow Four Times

When the words “accepting a role” were spoken, Bi Tan was still somewhat dazed.

—He thought he would at least have to persuade Ye Lin for an entire day and night.

Never did he expect the name Yan Man would be so effective. After a brief pause, Bi Tan continued, “When does filming start… well, there’s one condition.”

“This is also why I didn’t mention it directly earlier—it’s just that…” Bi Tan carefully adjusted his tone, trying to avoid provoking the man in front of him. “Even if you agree, we can’t sign the contract right away.”

Ye Lin: “….”

To prevent the man from getting angry, Bi Tan decided to express his own outrage first.

He immediately stood up and accused, “Isn’t this absurd? I think it’s absurd too! They’re handing us a script that isn’t ready to be signed upon delivery? And after we agree, they still want auditions?!?”

“So when the producer told me, they were very cautious—I thought their attitude was acceptable. Then I considered it; since it’s a custom script for Yan Man, maybe the male lead really needs her approval. Yan Man, Yan Man, you know!”

Bi Tan repeated the key point: “It’s her choice! Not the producer’s! Doesn’t that make things more balanced?!”

“At first, the producer didn’t dare approach us, thinking it would be too abrupt. But the audience’s demand for a second collaboration was overwhelming, so they had no choice but to try. Honestly, they didn’t expect much…”

“If you feel it’s unacceptable, rejecting it is fine too.”

Given Ye Lin’s status in the industry, even non-major productions approaching him would be considered presumptuous. For an idol drama to come knocking on his door—and requiring him to audition after agreeing—was unheard of.

Bi Tan, who handled these resources, knew all too well. The producer had downed three shots of baijiu before tremblingly and indirectly proposing this invitation.

But given the current timing, Bi Tan understood this might be Ye Lin’s only chance to take on a role.

If this didn’t work out, the chances afterward would be even slimmer…

Sure enough, Ye Lin pointed at the script and asked, “She picks?”

“Yes.”

Bi Tan thought to himself: Besides her, who else in the industry would dare put you on a selection list? Who wouldn’t throw money and resources at you just to secure a collaboration?!

After a moment, the man nodded slightly, saying, “Alright.”

“Let me know when the audition happens.”

Then he continued to lower his head, put on his gloves, and handle the flowers.

Bi Tan was still a bit stunned: “That’s it? It’s settled?”

Ye Lin turned his head, “What else?”

“No, no, no,” Bi Tan saw a glimmer of hope and hurried over. “What about retirement… are you still retiring?”

“Yes.”

The man cleared the leaves under the rose petals to one side: “I’ll retire after finishing this one.”

________________________________________

At noon, Yan Man received another fresh bouquet of roses as usual.

She asked Simon, “Still no signature?”

“I didn’t ask,” Simon said. “If you’re curious, I’ll check with the front desk next time I pick it up.”

Yan Man nodded.

The pink roses she received yesterday hadn’t wilted yet. She picked two blue ones, trimmed them at different heights, inserted them into the vase, and sprinkled some water droplets. Fresh and dripping with life, they looked stunning.

Unable to resist, she took out her phone and snapped a picture. As she put it away, she heard Simon’s urging.

“Are you ready? Let’s go!”

Another day under the camera awaited.

After finishing the shoot and returning to the hotel, Yan Man felt a bit tired. She booked a spa massage and finally felt relaxed afterward.

________________________________________

The next morning, it was time for the custom script’s audition.

The director’s team only told her that the situation had changed. Thinking it was just acting anyway, she didn’t inquire further. Upon arrival, she learned that Ye Lin would also be there.

She wasn’t particularly surprised—mainly because she didn’t have time to be surprised. This screenwriter was a perfectionist, revising the script multiple times. Just recently, the final versions of a few scenes were sent over, and she barely had time to memorize her lines.

The studio was noisy, so Yan Man casually found an empty, quiet room. She sat inside to memorize her lines while asking the screenwriter some questions about the characters.

This audition consisted of two scenes, both crucial parts of the entire drama. They could reveal the actors’ understanding of their roles and their control over emotions.

The screenwriter did a great job. With just a few lines of dialogue, Yan Man’s emotions were fully immersed.

After finishing, Yan Man took a moment to compose herself, giving herself a few minutes to step out of the character. Then she opened the door and headed toward the recording hall.

From afar, she heard arguing voices. Yan Man predicted to the staff, “Ye Lin’s here.”

The staff looked at her in surprise: “How do you know?”

Yan Man: “His agent and my agent are already arguing.”

“…”

Sure enough, when she turned around, Ye Lin suddenly appeared from somewhere, startling her again. Still catching her breath, she patted her chest but continued to boast to the staff: “See? Am I right or wrong?”

Ye Lin: “….”

Yan Man looked at him, waving the script in her hand: “Finished memorizing?”

“Just two more lines.”

He must have just received the script, so Yan Man leaned over to take a look. Only then did she exclaim: “You have so many lines!”

She suddenly leaned closer, half of her face blocking the script. From his angle, her slightly pink-tinted nose was perky, pretty, and vivid.

Yan Man tested him by picking a line: “I didn’t mean to disturb you, so… there’s no need to be disturbed?”

The original line was a declarative sentence, but since it was a test, she deliberately raised the tone at the end, turning it into a question, waiting for Ye Lin to respond.

But after waiting for a long time, thinking he hadn’t understood, she looked up and locked eyes with him.

After a long moment, he finally swallowed, shifting his gaze from her face and softly responding.

Yan Man straightened up: “Your reaction time is really long.”

“…”

Half an hour later, the other actors arrived, some dressed quite stylishly.

The first scene tested was a reunion after a long separation. She was last to act opposite Ye Lin.

The drama’s theme was reconciliation, weaving together urban and campus storylines.

Years ago, they separated due to a misunderstanding. The female lead didn’t know that behind the breakup lay hidden circumstances—the male lead had always loved her.

Years later, at a music festival, she substituted for a friend as a guitarist. Her guitar was slightly out of tune, so the staff took it away to adjust it and told her to fetch it from a room.

“Okay, action!”

She was waiting at the door, lowering her head texting her friend, saying she wasn’t familiar with the place and didn’t want to impulsively disturbing.

Suddenly, a group of laughing rappers passed by and accidentally pushed her through the door. The loosely closed door clicked shut, and she was thrust inside.

The room had only one window, casting the dim yellow light of dusk. He sat in the glow, head bowed, holding her guitar in his arms.

Dust floated in the air, clearly illuminated by the light, distant and serene.

He seemed to sense something and lifted his head. She was frozen in place by that single glance.

She had acted this scene with other male actors earlier, thinking it was roughly the same. Now, she truly felt the difference—

Only his gaze made her feel rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do.

His eyes held a storytelling quality, and his character’s conviction was so strong that she genuinely felt every motive of the character as if it were real.

It wasn’t that she needed to stand still—it was that she truly couldn’t move under his gaze.

The reunion was unexpected. They stared at each other for several seconds—she flustered, he composed. Outside, apologies continued, mixed with distant screams from the audience, chaotic yet silent.

Yet despite his apparent calmness, his wrist trembled slightly as he handed over the guitar.

“Long time no see” was too cliché a line. Too much had happened between them, making even trivial pleasantries seem pale.

He smiled casually, his mischievous and unruly demeanor reminiscent of his student days.

He teased lightly, seemingly indifferent: “You’ve grown taller.”

She straightened her posture, averting her gaze, slinging the guitar over her shoulder and turning to leave.

“Not at all.”

It was as if she mocked herself for fading so much in his memory. And indeed, he seemed to regard her as unimportant, his recollections vague.

Outside, her male friend called out to her, signaling it was time to go onstage.

She nodded. As she stepped forward, she heard the person behind her ask:

“…Your boyfriend?”

Not really, but driven by some inexplicable emotion, she blurted out a lie: “Yeah.”

Her answer was crisp and decisive, cutting him off before he could finish speaking.

It felt like a needle pricked her heart. For a moment, he lost his ability to react. By the time he regained composure and wanted to say something, she was already gone.

…

“Cut! Great job!”

After calling cut, even the director couldn’t help but comment: “You guys performed so well.”

“I was worried that Teacher Ye, having acted in serious films and dramas, might not fit an idol drama. Turns out I worried too much. Those emotional beats were spot-on.”

“How could anyone think he wouldn’t fit?” a female producer nearby chimed in. “Just putting that face on screen is enough to make the audience dream.”

Yan Man watched this scene from the monitor, nodded, and began preparing for the second segment.

In the second part, she paired with Ye Lin again.

This scene occurred after the reunion, tinged with love and resentment.

They had just argued, mentioning fragments of the past. She pursed her lips, remaining silent, and turned to leave. The man behind her chased after her, and she buried her face in her scarf.

The atmosphere of that scene was so well-executed that when Yan Man moved on to rehearse with the next actor, she immediately felt the stark difference.

Acting with the others felt like a one-sided effort on her part. The subtle push and pull, the delicate timing of emotional beats, and the masterful control over tension—these were things only Ye Lin possessed, things only he could do.

Yan Man suddenly understood what Simon had meant before: after experiencing the best, it became difficult to settle for anything less.

After the actors’ discussions ended, she stepped out of the room.

From afar, Ye Lin saw her meet with one of the male actors. They exchanged a few words, and the man’s eyes crinkled with laughter. Yan Man nodded, and his voice brimmed with barely concealed excitement: “Then you have to follow me, alright?”

After she assured him she would, they said their goodbyes.

For some inexplicable reason, Ye Lin’s heart suddenly sank.

The man lowered his gaze, staring at the tiled floor beneath his feet.

Yan Man bid farewell to the other actors one by one, and finally, she stood in front of him.

“Wait a bit before you leave,” she said, sitting down on the couch nearby. “Your agent is inside discussing the contract.”

“…” Ye Lin paused. “Contract?”

“Yes.” Yan Man looked at his expression, unsure how to interpret it. “They’ve already decided on you. Are you really surprised?”

“…”

The man’s voice was low. “Then… what were you just talking about?”

“Who do you mean? Xiang Jingming?” she asked. “I just promised to play the female lead in his music video. Can’t let him come here for nothing.”

She paused, then continued. “Or Wu Yan? I told him if we’re shooting in the same city next time, I’ll make a cameo in his new drama.”

“Or Li Shu? He asked if I’d take on another microfilm. I said I’d think about it.”

“…”

After a long pause, he remarked ambiguously, “You’re quite busy.”

“Of course. Aren’t you too?”

As Yan Man replied, she realized she truly was busy. Opening her phone, she saw Bian He had sent her a message.

It was about the autism-themed anthology series.

They discussed the lines for a bit. Bian He had a habit of sending memes, and after sending a few, Yan Man replied with one of her saved memes.

After sending it, as she typed, she heard the person beside her inhale deeply, then exhale heavily.

Yan Man looked up. “Feeling suffocated?”

Ye Lin: “…A bit.”

There was a window right beside her. Yan Man pushed it open and went back to typing.

But the stuffy air didn’t ease at all. Just as Ye Lin was about to speak, she finished the conversation and looked up.

Yan Man: “If you’re bored, you can wait in the car.”

“No.” He shook his head.

Seeing that sitting was still sitting, she couldn’t resist flipping through her photo album. Spotting the bouquet she had photographed earlier, she selected a good angle and posted it on Weibo.

The caption was a single star emoji.

After posting, she gazed at the flowers in the picture and couldn’t help but smile.

The man watched her uplifted lips, and the irritation he had felt moments ago vanished completely. He unconsciously raised the corners of his mouth ever so slightly.

Not satisfied with admiring it herself, Yan Man showed him the picture after a while. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

He hummed softly, as if joy was being injected into his heart drop by drop, pushed along by an invisible syringe.

“Beautiful.”

Soon, the contract signing was complete. As Yan Man received a call from Bian He, she left in a hurry, leaving behind a pale pink coat on the sofa.

The noise gradually faded away. Ye Lin stared at the coat on the sofa, thinking of her last phone call before leaving. Unconsciously, his brows furrowed again.

She had gone to film.

With another man.

This realization made him feel inexplicably irritated, and even after getting into the car, his frown hadn’t smoothed out.

But when he opened his phone, the familiar profile icon appeared in the upper right corner of WeChat Moments. Clicking in, he discovered she had reposted the flower picture on her Moments just a minute ago.

And so, his brows relaxed once more.

Within those short ten-odd minutes, his emotions had undergone a butterfly effect. Her casual flick of the wings had stirred a raging storm on his calm sea.

She seemed to hold significant weight now, linking his emotions entirely to hers. Without even realizing it, she controlled how he felt throughout the day.

After wrapping up the anthology series shoot and making a cameo appearance in a music video, Yan Man shifted her focus entirely to the custom script.

After more than half a month of sleepless nights and hair-pulling revisions, the character designs and story framework were all finalized, and the first three episodes had been written.

This time, they would adopt the Korean-style simultaneous filming and broadcasting model. The entire drama would be approximately 25 episodes, each lasting one hour, striving for a fast-paced, non-draggy narrative, aiming to produce high-quality content.

As for the production team, they had hired experienced professionals. While this somewhat eased the pressure on the actors, the challenge remained substantial.

Though the previous two seasons of the custom drama had followed this approach, such attempts were still rare in the industry. Yan Man hadn’t worked on anything like this before, and she felt the demands on the actors’ performances were quite high.

So, she spent over twenty days in the hotel, studying the script whenever she wasn’t attending events.

Just as she was pondering whether she should discuss something with Ye Lin, given how close they were staying, the doorbell miraculously rang.

Yan Man got up to open the door and saw a familiar face.

Under the quiet corridor lights, Ye Lin stood before her, wearing a deep blue shirt with a nice drape.

Whether it was because he had just returned from an event or something else, he seemed to have tidied up, though not professionally groomed.

Yan Man parted her lips, about to ask what brought him, when—

At that very moment, Nuomi darted out through the gap in the door.

Knowing her cat well, Yan Man knew it wasn’t trying to escape—it was simply being mischievous.

After raising it for so many days, the cat had revealed its true nature, showing no fear of humans and throwing nightly raves.

Yan Man smoothed her hair, watching the white figure darting back and forth in the corridor, and pleaded sincerely: “I’m a female celebrity. Do you really expect me to chase after you jumping around in the hotel?”

Nuomi: “…”

In that instant, she read a sense of exasperation in the cat’s eyes.

After some thought, she looked up at Ye Lin. “Do you still have your cat?”

He nodded, his voice low. “Still here.”

“Maybe Nuomi just wants someone to play with. Why don’t you open your door? It might go into your room.”

Never did Yan Man know her prediction could be so accurate. As soon as Ye Lin opened his door and called twice, the regal blue Ragdoll strolled out, and the white figure rushed straight in.

Yan Man: “….”

For some reason, she felt a bit embarrassed and smoothly changed the subject: “Well, let’s discuss the script together. Wait a moment—I’ll grab my materials and come over.”

The man lowered his eyes slightly. “Come to my room?”

“Mm.”

Yan Man gathered the scripts and her notebook from the table, then entered Ye Lin’s room.

Nuomi was now calm, quietly lying there, letting a tissue clean its fur.

“…”

You sure know how to enjoy yourself.

Yan Man sat at his desk, thinking about the issues with the drama she had been pondering earlier. Rubbing her temples, she wrinkled her nose slightly, letting out a soft sigh.

Ye Lin: “What are you sighing about?”

“I think it’s so hard,” she said. “Not that the role is hard—it’s just, this is my first time playing the lead in a simultaneously filmed and broadcast drama. What if I can’t find the right state quickly? Won’t that delay the production schedule?”

Fuyou Jiunian had fewer scenes for her, so it didn’t count as a leading role. Plus, after winning the This Is Acting championship, she wanted to give the audience a representative work as soon as possible, which made her especially value this project.

After hearing her concerns, Ye Lin finally spoke: “According to the proportions, roughly one episode every three days. Assuming we shoot 15 hours a day, that’s about 45 hours to film an hour or two of footage.”

Hearing this, Yan Man relaxed a little.

Ye Lin: “Besides, it’s not just our scenes. There are supporting characters and subplots. So relax—with your abilities, there won’t be any problems.”

She rested her chin on her hand. “Really?”

“Really.”

Since he said so, she believed him.

Yan Man nodded, resting her chin on her arms atop the table. “Oh, right—what did you come to talk to me about earlier?”

At this question, the man tightened his grip on the script in his hands.

It was just… he hadn’t seen her in a while and missed her.

So he found an excuse.

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “It was also about discussing the script.”

“Hmm…” She nodded. “We’ll need to talk about the script often, so we can get into character faster.”

She took notes as they talked, discovering that Ye Lin indeed had some clever ways of handling certain aspects. Amazed, she jotted them down to digest later.

By the time she left, it was already evening. Gathering her scripts, she said she was heading back. He hesitated, wanting to say something, but after much deliberation, it ultimately condensed into five words:

“Alright, rest early.”

Yan Man walked out holding the cat, still lecturing it along the way. When she returned to her room, Zhou Xuan gave her a puzzled look.

Yan Man: “What?”

Zhou Xuan couldn’t comprehend what she had witnessed: “Are you… teaching the cat to be reserved?”

“…”

Am I not allowed to teach my daughter to be a little more reserved just because I have a past of being unrestrained?

Amidst their rhythm of meeting every three days for a small discussion and every five days for a larger one, filming officially began.

The drama’s title had also been finalized: Cherry Smoothiesie .

Using slushie to symbolize the granular texture of love and cherries to represent the sweetness of romance.

The official account name was updated, and it even trended once. When the cast was announced, fan numbers surged again.

[I must be dreaming, right?! This is my long-awaited second collaboration????]

[Guys, check the drama registration!!! Ye Lin is really coming to chase his wife hahaha!!!!]

[Finally mending the trauma of watching four tragic endings on the variety show… You better make this sweet AF or I’ll cry my eyes out.]

[It’s the screenwriter from Jin Kui Jin Kui ! I’m ecstatic! How much my girl suffered for this heartless man in Jin Kui , and now I want Ye Lin to pay it all back in this drama!!!]

[Don’t worry—it’s a broken mirror reuniting, man chasing woman. If you don’t watch, you’re not Chinese.]

[Being a Yanye shipper makes me so happy I’m screaming. Everyone come and stan Yanye!! All frames are full of material, these stunning visuals will kill me dead!!!]

…

Perhaps due to their previous collaborative experiences, by the end of the first day of filming, Yan Man finally felt completely at ease.

Ye Lin was right; she could handle it.

Every team member was professional, and her co-star was top-tier. She found her acting smoother and more fluid than before, showing noticeable improvement.

As they grew more comfortable, they wrapped the first three episodes within a week.

Promotions had been arranged long before filming began, and with her and Ye Lin’s popularity, within half an hour of the premiere, the show steadily climbed to the number one trending spot.

The quality of the drama was indeed high. Though a light romantic comedy, the costumes, makeup, props, lighting, and even technical details were flawless.

The first episode ended with the reunion scene, and immediately, Weibo exploded with discussions about the plot. Yan Man clicked into the official account and the screenwriter’s page, where everyone was sharing their opinions.

This lively exchange filled her with satisfaction, but unfortunately, she didn’t have much time to linger before being whisked off to continue filming.

The shooting pace was fast, and by the time they wrapped, another day had ended.

On the way back, Yan Man opened Weibo and casually scrolled through the screenwriter’s homepage.

The screenwriter asked for everyone’s expectations and suggestions for future developments. After two hours, the top comment among the hot replies had basically solidified.

37,000 likes.

Yan Man lowered her head to read it.

WhyShoulILikeAnyoneElse: [After such a long separation, aren’t they going to hook up?]