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That night, after wrapping up and returning to the hotel, Yan Man began studying tomorrow’s “bed scene.”
Zhou Xuan peeked at the script. “Did they do it?”
Yan Man: “...”
“Can you focus on something normal for once?”
Zhou Xuan: “This is the kind of normal content we adults love to watch.”
Yan Man tried to elevate her perspective: “Don’t focus on that—look at the deeper meaning.”
“The deeper meaning? Like positions?”
“...”
Yan Man sighed: “Don’t you think this scene goes deeper? Because later, the two characters open up to each other, unlike before when it was just going through the motions. The male lead fundamentally resists her.”
“Entering a man’s heart is the first step to winning him over.”
Zhou Xuan: “So did their relationship progress?”
Yan Man: “It collapsed.”
The two locked eyes for two seconds, then burst into uncontrollable laughter.
After laughing, Yan Man rubbed her cheeks. “You rest for now—I’m going to the gym to do Pilates.”
Right now, she didn’t feel like much of an actress yet, probably because the production hadn’t fully entered the promotional phase. But compared to her previous life, there were definitely changes.
For instance, she couldn’t eat as freely anymore, and her body management had become stricter.
After finishing her workout, she came upstairs and ran into Bi Tan.
He seemed to be delivering something to Ye Lin.
At first, she hadn’t remembered Bi Tan’s name. Zhou Xuan had taught her a trick: his name matched his personality—he loved to talk endlessly, chatter about anything. That’s how Yan Man finally remembered.
Ye Lin’s taciturn nature paired well with such a talkative agent.
Perhaps noticing Yan Man standing in place for a while, Bi Tan turned around: “Is there something you need?”
At the same time, Ye Lin’s door opened.
A perfect opportunity—not to be wasted.
Yan Man casually walked over, greeted Bi Tan, and just as the door was about to close, she reached out to stop it.
She looked up to see Ye Lin, fresh out of the shower.
A freshly bathed handsome man was at the peak of hormonal allure.
His damp bangs clung to his forehead, his bathrobe loosely tied, collar slightly open, his Adam’s apple more pronounced. Beads of water glistened on his chest, and his dark lashes carried a misty haze, his gaze clear yet seductive.
Cold and alluring.
She instinctively licked her lips.
Ye Lin: “...”
The man reached up to pull his collar higher.
Yan Man leaned against the doorframe, deliberately saying, “Can I borrow your gym? The one downstairs is broken.”
“Where’s it broken?” Ye Lin said coolly. “Bi Tan just finished working out upstairs.”
“...”
From inside, Bi Tan stretched his neck. “Yes, I just worked out—but wait, who said I worked out? I didn’t!”
Yan Man hadn’t really intended to borrow it anyway. She tilted her head and blinked.
“Alright, borrowing your gym was a lie—the real reason was to say goodnight.”
That night, the starry sky twinkled faintly through the large floor-to-ceiling windows of his room.
But obviously, the man rejected her relentless advances without hesitation.
Ye Lin lowered his gaze, his voice cold and steady: “With the time you’ve spent on this, you could’ve memorized your lines.”
She gasped softly. “Does that mean if I finish my lines, I can come find you?”
“I’ve already memorized them,” she said innocently, standing obediently at the door, looking up at him. “Why don’t you check?”
“Not interested.”
“What are you interested in, then? Are you interested in our bed scene tomorrow?”
...
Unfortunately, she didn’t get a reply. The door slammed shut, leaving only a faint trace of his scent.
Just a little.
She sniffed hard.
Freesia.
The next day, Yan Man arrived at the set and found Ye Lin there too.
She walked straight to his side, cupping her face. “Teacher Ye woke up so early today? I waited for you at the elevator for over half an hour, hoping to walk with you.”
Zhou Xuan: “Huh? Weren’t we together? When did you wait for half an hour?”
Yan Man whispered: “Don’t expose me.”
Zhou Xuan: “...”
She realized something: this girl made things up on the spot, spouting words louder than anyone else, and her sweet talk was smoother than anyone else’s.
After a pause, Zhou Xuan said earnestly: “I think those men who paint big pictures aren’t as skilled as you.”
“What big picture?”
Thinking Yan Man didn’t understand, Zhou Xuan was about to explain when Yan Man calmly said: “This is an artistic pursuit method, slightly refined from reality.”
“...”
Sitting nearby, Ye Lin intentionally ignored their conversation. His fingers rested lazily on the script, looking somewhat drowsy.
Not knowing when filming would start, Yan Man glanced at him, then suddenly got up from the sofa, making a grand plan before leaving.
When Ye Lin woke from his nap, he opened his eyes to find over thirty cups of coffee placed in front of him.
Yan ·Boss· Man: “I didn’t know what flavor you like, so I bought everything.”
How romantic, she thought dreamily. Maybe Ye Lin would be deeply moved in this instant and fall madly in love with her—
Ye Lin: “I’m allergic to coffee.”
“...”
Oh, what bad timing.
She and Ye Lin locked eyes, and for a moment, the atmosphere was awkward.
Until Bi Tan couldn’t hold back his laughter, infecting her. She lowered her head, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
Too embarrassing.
Eventually, the entire crew burst into laughter. Her eyes crinkled with mirth, a glimmer of light dancing in them.
Ye Lin withdrew his gaze, emotionlessly rising to his feet, only to be chased down by her in a few quick steps as she handed him something: “Then have some jelly.”
His voice grew colder, low and icy: “Look again—what is this?”
“Oh, coffee jelly.”
“...”
Sometimes he wondered if the smoothness of this production was why fate sent such a person to torment him.
Every day, she proclaimed her love louder than anyone else, but not a single genuine act of love followed.
It was as if she came to the set for fun, and pursuing him was just one of her games.
In short, she didn’t really like him, he thought.
Yan Man distributed the extra coffee to the staff. Not long after, today’s shoot began.
They filmed nonstop for an entire day.
By nightfall, the first bed scene between the male and female leads arrived as scheduled.
At this point, the male lead had neglected the female lead for far too long. After their marriage, he had gone to the frontlines and hadn’t returned for two whole months.
She turned away from him, pouting: “You still remember to come back? This house hasn’t had any warmth for days.”
The man took off his coat with his back to her, saying nothing.
The room remained silent for a long time, save for the sound of clothes being removed, brushing against the floor.
As if struggling internally for a long time, she finally let go of a bit of her pride and spoke to him in a tone almost like negotiation: “Even if it’s just a marriage in name, at least give me a child.” She looked up and said, “Keep me company.”
Her voice carried a subtle vulnerability.
Her eyes were misty, her usual assertiveness softened into lingering tenderness. Perhaps no one could resist a beautiful woman shedding tears—it evoked both pity and a sense of destruction.
He asked: “Just one child?”
His question was vague, but she nodded knowingly: “Just one child. I won’t ask for anything else from you.”
This sentence finally broke through his last line of defense. People always lowered their guard for the word “last,” let alone his long-suppressed torrent of love. It completely overflowed when she shed her outer garment.
The man wasn’t one to endure for long.
She dropped her outer garment on the floor, revealing a thin, lace-trimmed slip. The top was tied with a bow, now half-undone, as if a slight tug would make it slide off.
Her skin was as smooth as porcelain, white like milk in a glass.
The man neither agreed nor refused, but turned off the lights in the room.
His breath grew warmer as he lowered his gaze, using his lips and teeth to untie the pretty bow.
Her shoulder felt a chill.
In the darkness, she reached for the back of his neck, tentatively searching for his warm lips. She was actually quite cold and trembling, lightly brushing against his lips, only to be blocked from retreating.
Just as their lips were about to meet—
The butler rushed upstairs, knocking on the door and interrupting the scene.
He frowned slightly, his lips parting as if he wanted to continue, but the knocking grew more urgent, mentioning important military matters.
He calmed his breathing somewhat before pulling the blanket over her. Through the blanket, she heard his increasingly rapid breaths.
Finally, the man left first, his voice hoarse: “I’ll repay you later.”
She pulled her hand out from under the blanket, whispering:
“Twice.”
...
“Cut!” The director was very satisfied with this take, passing it in one shot. “Good, actors, take a short break—next scene in ten minutes.”
While Yan Man was touching up her makeup, Zhou Xuan leaned over: “Your lines... I feel something’s off?”
Ye Lin was taken to another room to re-record the heavy breathing sounds needed for the earlier manual scene.
Female actors had it easier—they didn’t need to re-record audio.
“What’s off?” Yan Man said. “The audience will find it stimulating.”
Actually, in the earlier scene, the untying of the straps and the kiss were real. Everything else was conveyed through dim lighting and sound, allowing the audience’s imagination to fill in the gaps.
—After all, scenes that were too explicit wouldn’t pass censorship.
“Isn’t this better than being explicit? Imagination is truly powerful,” Zhou Xuan said suggestively. “I’m swooning—what about you?”
Yan Man: “...”
Soon, the second scene began filming. By now, the male lead had dealt with the intelligence and returned to the room.
This scene went smoothly too, each camera angle completed in one take. She lay on the man’s arm, her thin nightgown letting her feel the pulse of his muscles and the heat of his body.
The warmth radiating from his chest baked her cheeks.
From his debut until now, all of Ye Lin’s intimate scenes had been with her.
Her face grew hot, thinking about the earlier scene, and she slowly became more aware, her heartbeat inexplicably quickening.
Unconsciously, Yan Man curled her fingers.
At the end of this scene, the two parted on bad terms. The male lead gripped her wrist, leaning over her, warning her not to play any tricks.
And she looked up at him, her eyes red and moist, gazing at him seductively and ambiguously.
Director: “Good, cut!”
Afterward, the set buzzed with activity again as the crew pulled open the curtains.
Ye Lin prepared to get up.
But Yan Man suddenly felt a sharp tug on her scalp.
She reached out, unconsciously pressing against his chest.
“Don’t move... Ow, ow, ow, my hair’s caught in your button...”
She squinted, trying to untangle it, but her hair was wrapped chaotically. After fumbling for a while, the man grew impatient and shifted his waist slightly.
Yan Man: “Is your waist feeling good?”
Ye Lin: ?
After a brief detour, she quickly brought the topic back on track: “Seriously... don’t get up, it hurts.”
Ye Lin: “Should I just stop breathing altogether?”
She blurted out: “How could I bear that?”
“...”
She was halfway sitting up, her upper body suspended, supported only by her back muscles. Soon, she lost strength, her waist growing sore, her hands fumbling.
The more she tried to untangle it, the worse it got, even repeatedly touching his chest.
The next moment, the man slid his elbow under her knee and pushed her forward gently—
If this weren’t on set, she might have thought this prelude had the vibe of a nighttime drama.
But soon, the man pushed her to sit properly at the head of the bed, then coldly pulled her hand away, quickly untangled her hair, and freed it.
Then he turned over, sat on the edge of the bed to button up his clothes, and swiftly left.
Amidst the commotion, Yan Man rolled over, grabbed her phone from under the pillow, and messaged Zhou Xuan.
[Wasn’t there a bit of that movie trope where the rogue male lead leaves after having his fun?]
She shook her head, clicking her tongue: [Even more charming.]
Zhou Xuan: [?]
Zhou Xuan: [Take some medicine.]
That night, there was a brand event. Ye Lin boarded the RV and changed in the bedroom.
As he was taking off his shirt, his fingers paused.
A strand of her hair was still caught in the button.
Long and soft, tightly wrapped around the pearl-white button, coiled several times.
He plucked it off and threw it in the trash.
That night, when Yan Man returned to the hotel, the first thing she did was turn on her computer.
While the computer booted up, Zhou Xuan poured a glass of water and said, “Is it my imagination, or did Ye Lin seem even colder tonight than before?”
“It’s not your imagination,” Yan Man said. “He was a bit colder.”
It was like a small, sealed room. You finally tore open the window paper, letting a ray of light in, but not long after, the person inside taped it back up.
The sense of distance grew ever clearer.
Zhou Xuan: “What’s the reason?”
Yan Man: “Maybe because I gave him coffee jelly, and he’s allergic to it.”
“...”
“It’s normal,” Yan Man said. “If he weren’t like this, he wouldn’t be him.”
He was like a deity enshrined on a pedestal, gazing down at human affairs with indifference, aloof, taciturn, like a block of ice. How could he so easily descend to earth for someone?
Everyone said Ye Lin was indifferent, proud, and desireless.
But she wanted to peel off this outer layer, to see those clear eyes tainted by worldly desires, to see him smile, see him kneel, see him lose himself.
She wanted to taste this icy dessert—to see what it would taste like when melted.
Yan Man: “Let’s wait until tomorrow. Tomorrow, I’ll resolve this little misunderstanding.”
Just as Zhou Xuan was about to say something, she suddenly saw Yan Man operating the computer furiously and asked, “What are you doing?”
Yan Man: “I just created a new CP video.”
Zhou Xuan: “...”
Yan Man: “The template was carefully selected, seriously. This time, it’s absolutely flawless. The BGM is my own pairing, uploaded this morning before we left.”
“Just wait—you’ll see, the comments will definitely stabilize this time.”
Two clicks, and the comment section opened.
Thirty-two comments—definitely more than before.
Yan Man coughed softly, covering the corner of her mouth with her finger to hide her smile, and focused on reading.
LateNightNoHairLoss: [I specifically followed this blogger just to see what kind of garbage you’ll churn out next. Fellow 26 followers, are you with me?]
Yan Man: “...”
GuluStrawberryPie: [Who’s shipping this? Who’s shipping this pile of crap?? Oh, no one ships it? Then never mind :)]
MirrorFlowerSauce: [People who want to ship Ye Lin could circle the Earth. More importantly, some videos are actually good, even though they’re suppressed to the Arctic Circle. Forget about this inhumane pairing—who would like it?]
BrotherWontBlameMe: [Wow, there’s even blending involved. It takes at least ten years of brain hemorrhage to create something this Renaissance-style.]
MyTrueFaceIsYourDad: [Hahahaha, thank you, throwing up made me feel better.]
Yan Man: “............”
Yan Man: “..................”
For a full minute, the room was utterly silent.
Only the background music from the automatically playing video echoed cheerfully through the ceiling—a stark contrast of ironic ambiance.
Yan Man opened the drawer and took out paper and pen.
Zhou Xuan: “...What’s this?”
Yan Man: “I’m writing down their IDs.”
She faced the screen, her expression serious.
“No shipping? Impossible.”
“They’ll definitely regret it.”
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