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In the ten minutes it took for Yan Man to get out of the car and enter the store, the forum had completely exploded.
The original poster uploaded a secretly taken photo: [Absolutely true! I saw her walk into a luxury store with a man! It’s definitely her—she was wearing these exact shoes during today’s promotional event!]
[Is this real? Where did the OP get this from?]
OP: [I live nearby and occasionally visit film sets for fun. I’m very familiar with her figure. I just saw her get into a sports car but didn’t have time to take a picture. Then, unexpectedly, she came back around. Hahaha!]
[It must be her. Who else would go into a store dressed so heavily?]
[No wonder she’s had such good resources since her debut… She must have a sugar daddy! Who’s that guy?]
[Isn’t she already super famous? Does she still need a sugar daddy? And at this hour?]
[Even if she’s famous, does she really have the guts to spend millions on a single bag? Everything in that store starts at seven figures. She’s not that famous—can she really afford it without blinking?]
[Didn’t I say it earlier? Her popularity is just bubble traffic. She doesn’t earn much money. Even if she could afford it, would she really splurge on herself?]
[If this is true, wouldn’t this completely ruin her image?!]
Soon, someone dug up information about the man in the photo:
[I found it!! It’s the third son of Gushan Real Estate!!! Holy cow, this is serious stuff. This post will probably be PR’d away soon…]
[Can someone explain who he is?]
[One of the top real estate giants in the industry. At least three of every ten five-star hotels belong to them. Their headquarters is right in the CBD. Just imagine their annual revenue.]
[Probably equivalent to Ye Lin’s level as a top-tier celebrity.]
[Ye Lin is that rich?]
[Isn’t that obvious? The commercial endorsements of top artists are worth astronomical amounts, let alone his investments and personal companies. That’s why so many actresses want to cozy up to him…]
[No wonder even Yan Man has to grovel…]
As the comments spiraled into derogatory remarks about how “prostituting oneself for money is the inescapable fate of female stars,” someone finally took pity on the intellectual wasteland of these casual gossip-mongers.
[Have you considered that maybe this store sells more than just bags? Maybe they also sell men’s lighters?]
[Have you tried Baidu? Search for the CEO of Gushan Real Estate… Notice anything? His surname is also Yan?]
[Is it possible…]
[A wealthy heiress venturing into the entertainment industry?!]
[??????????]
This revelation instantly elevated the drama to another level. Voices of all kinds flooded social media platforms like Weibo and Douban, and even the comment section of the person involved, Yan Zong, was overrun.
When Yan Zong learned about this, he had just returned home after drinking a bit, feeling slightly tipsy.
Yan Han and Yan Yuan were already sitting in the living room. Seeing him return, Yan Yuan quickly stood up. “Why are you drinking?”
“My dignity has been trampled! Trampled, do you understand?!” Yan Zong’s face was flushed as he pointed toward Yan Man’s room. “I went to see her today to ask her to come home for dinner, but—you know her stubborn personality. I thought, I can threaten her with money!”
Yan Yuan: [...]
Yan Zong: “I told her about the two million she withdrew from my account when she first left. But before I could finish, she got out of the car, went into the store, bought me a lighter, paid me back in full, and even gave me extra!”
“Isn’t this an insult? Isn’t this contempt?” Yan Zong was furious. He pulled out a platinum-and-white镂空 lighter and angrily exclaimed, “She! Yan Man! Just brushed me off with this lousy lighter!!”
“Brother Two, don’t you think she went too far?”
Yan Yuan examined it closely and said, “A seven-figure lighter starting with the number three—is this really an insult to you?”
He extended his hand. “I think it’s pretty cool. Give it to me.”
Yan Zong stuffed it back into his pocket. “No.”
[...]
“Alright,” the eldest brother, seated on the couch, finally spoke, interrupting. “Yan Zong, are you clear-headed right now? We have something to discuss with you.”
“I’m clear-headed! How could I not be?” Yan Zong wiped his face and staggered toward the bathroom. “Wait for me to wash my face.”
[...]
From afar, the sound of running water could be heard faintly. On the far right of the couch, Yan Wendong finally put down his laptop.
“It’s fine, Dad. Don’t worry too much,” Yan Yuan consoled him. “After all, given Yan Man’s current identity, being exposed was only a matter of time. Besides, she’s grown up now, and her resilience has improved. Worst case scenario, she has her team to handle things.”
Yan Wendong exhaled deeply. “I’ve repeatedly told her not to expose herself publicly, but she wouldn’t listen. She insisted on entering the entertainment industry, and now every move she makes is under scrutiny—”
Eldest Brother Yan Han spoke up. “She’s grown up now and has her own thoughts. You must trust that she has the ability to make decisions for herself. As her family, we must respect her choices.”
“After all, it’s her life. She knows how she wants to live it.”
Yan Yuan nodded. “Yan Man has always been smart. If she chose to enter the industry, she surely understands the responsibilities that come with it. She must have accepted these terms before deciding to become an artist.”
“With her personality, she would never force herself to do something she doesn’t want to do. Dad, rest assured—she genuinely loves this career. It’s not just to spite us.”
Yan Wendong sighed again. “Should we contact her now? What’s the next step? Should we go public or handle it through PR? If we go public, how does she want it done?”
Yan Yuan scrolled through Weibo and said, “No need to think about it.”
Yan Han: “What do you mean?”
Yan Yuan placed his phone on the screen—it was clearly Yan Zong’s masterpiece, posted while he was in the bathroom.
Yan Zong’s comment section was flooded with people, some of whom opposed the idea, claiming they’d never heard of Yan Wendong having a daughter and insisting it was just a coincidence of shared surnames. Some even started arguments in the comments, hurling insults at Yan Man.
Yan Zong washed his face, picked up his phone, and immediately lost his temper.
He angrily replied to one commenter: [Insulting my sister?]
Yan Wendong: [...…………]
Not two seconds later, Yan Yuan refreshed the page and said, “Deleted?”
With the third refresh, Yan Zong’s reply reappeared:
[Are you insane for insulting my sister?]
[...]
So the deletion was just to add an extra retort. No big deal.
Soon, Yan Zong walked back into the living room, replying to comments as he went.
[If it’s true, Yan Man only got where she is because of her family. Riding on others’ coattails is so annoying.]
Yan Zong: [If she wanted to ride on our family’s coattails, we’d have opened an entertainment company for her. If it weren’t for her kindness, your mouth would already be shut by a lawyer’s letter.]
[There’s no way Yan Man is his biological sister. If they try to use this excuse later, demand proof.]
Yan Zong: [Proof for this, proof for that—what, do I need to prove I’m your dad?]
[I don’t want to see her anymore. When will Yan Man leave the industry?]
Yan Zong: [Even her three older brothers in the family don’t dare criticize her. Who do you think you are to lecture her?]
Yan Zong sat down on the couch, feeling something poking him in his pocket. He took out the lighter and placed it on the table. Seeing it, he couldn’t help but start complaining again. “Next time she comes back, I’ll definitely scold her. She has no respect for authority! Does she even consider me her Third Brother?! Her behavior is atrocious! Unforgivable!”
Then he continued to furiously battle those dissing her online.
Yan Yuan: [...]
Yan Yuan: “Do you have multiple personalities?”
Yan Zong didn’t respond—he was busy replying to comments.
—By now, the replies were mostly positive.
[Hahaha, Brother is so cute, and I love Manman so much!]
[Thank you.]
[Wanna see Manman’s childhood photos!]
Yan Zong: [Sharing photo (the most handsome one is me).]
[Did you go shopping together today?]
Yan Zong: [No, she bought me a lighter.]
Attached was a photo of the ostentatious lighter.
Yan Yuan: [...]
While Yan Zong was thriving on Weibo, the original exposé thread had been overtaken by curious netizens and fans alike.
People were live-updating his responses: [This Third Brother has spunk—I’m laughing so hard I’m vomiting over the toilet.]
[From some of the replies, you can tell Yan Man’s status in the family…]
[Who wouldn’t love a younger sister who gives gifts like this?]
[Blacklist: Yan Man clings to her sugar daddy for a bag. Reality: Yan Man casually picked a day to buy her brother a gift.]
[Her school uniform hinted at it earlier—she must have gone to an elite private school.]
[Thanks to everyone who tried to bash Yan Man for having a sugar daddy. Not only do we now know that she’s achieved everything on her own, clean and untainted, but we also learned—Yan Man herself is filthy rich.]
[Thank you, thank you! Our idol is amazing!! I’m so thrilled tonight!!!!]
Yan Man went straight to bed after returning home and only learned about the news the next morning.
Simon lamented, “If it weren’t for fear of affecting your state for today’s activities, and your Third Brother stepping in, I would’ve dragged you out of bed last night to have a serious talk.”
Yan Man had long anticipated this day, so she wasn’t too surprised. The only thing she hadn’t expected was how utterly hilarious Yan Zong’s handling of the situation would be.
That morning, when she saw Yan Zong’s replies on Weibo, she nearly swallowed her toothbrush laughing.
Pulling herself together, Yan Man asked Simon, “What’s the verdict?”
Simon had guessed her family was well-off but hadn’t expected them to be this wealthy. He bombarded her with questions, such as the most pressing ones like “Why haven’t you revealed yourself?” “What was your life like growing up?” “What kind of entertainment activities do you usually do?” Yan Man answered until her throat was dry, thinking to herself how lucky it was that he hadn’t called her—otherwise, she wouldn’t have slept a wink.
After satisfying his curiosity, Simon asked, “In this situation, does your family approve of you becoming an actress?”
“Whether they approve or not, I’m already an artist now. There’s no turning back once the arrow is shot,” Yan Man said. “Don’t worry, even if they want to beat someone up, it’ll be me, not you.”
[...]
Simon: “Then, why did you enter the industry? Was it because you thought it’d be fun? To explore the outside world, or maybe to use fame to boost your family’s business?”
This time, she answered quickly. “No.”
“Then why?”
Yan Man stood up, half-joking, half-serious. “For a greater ideal and goal, of course.”
[…]
Before she could say more, Yan Man got out of the car and entered the venue.
The reason Simon was worried about affecting her was that after the morning’s commercial event, there would be a media interview session. Simon was concerned that if she hadn’t slept well, it might impact the live broadcast.
Sure enough, as soon as last night’s incident broke, microphones immediately swarmed toward Yan Man like bamboo shoots after rain as she stood in front of the backdrop. She managed to take a few questions but was momentarily blinded by the flashing cameras.
The media was thrilled—this was both fresh and shocking. They fired off endless questions about her family background, akin to asking “a hundred thousand whys.” Yan Man answered a few key ones.
For instance, not revealing her family was their choice—they believed in her free-spirited nature and didn’t want to restrict her. The lack of further disclosure later on was due to no suitable opportunity. As for joining the entertainment industry, she found fans adorable but admitted she didn’t get much sleep…
Being an artist was her decision, unrelated to her family background. Having chosen this path, who she essentially was didn’t matter; what mattered was whether she could do her job well and produce more great works.
The media asked: “So you still hope people focus less on your family and more on your work?”
“Yes.”
She nodded. Amidst the reporters’ knowing looks, she gave an answer no one expected—
Yan Man politely smiled at the camera and said: “Because my dad and I are currently fighting.”
“...”
Media: ???
The audience in the live stream was equally shocked.
Laughter erupted continuously. Everyone marveled at how Yan Man was truly a chaotic gem in the world of interviews:
[OMG, I’m laughing so hard I can’t breathe! Why is my girl so honest, spilling everything?!]
[Other artists: To escape the shadow of my family. Yan Man: Because my dad and I are fighting.]
[Reporter: You’ve completely baffled me.]
[Turns out humor genes really are hereditary…]
Meanwhile, Simon in the car nearly lost his mind laughing.
Having navigated the entertainment industry for years, he was very aware that with Yan Man’s face and career trajectory, this kind of news breaking wasn’t necessarily all good—it had its downsides too.
In the entertainment world, female artists couldn’t afford to seem too distant from ordinary life. Being too detached or unrealistic made them feel unrelatable. That’s why, in recent years, many glamorous actresses cultivated personas as foodies or tomboys—to bridge the gap with audiences.
But Yan Man…
With just her words, she single-handedly resolved a dilemma that had kept Simon up pondering for an entire day and night. She unraveled an unsolvable puzzle.
Now, instead of focusing on her family background, everyone was captivated by her sharp wit. By the time the live stream ended, edited clips were already circulating online, giving viewers a taste of how refreshingly down-to-earth a female artist could be.
Of course, some commenters were stunned by the revelation that “Yan Man is the youngest daughter of the Yan family from Gushan Real Estate?!” But more were won over by her candidness and charm, earning her a wave of new fans.
________________________________________
Meanwhile, inside Ye Lin’s RV.
Bi Tan paced back and forth with his phone, delivering his take on the matter:
“I knew it! I always knew Yan Man’s family wasn’t ordinary!”
“I mean, think about it—given your fame and status back then, how could a rookie dare to pursue you so boldly unless…” Bi Tan clicked his tongue and shook his head. “It seems she really is an innocent princess descending into the mortal world, oblivious to worldly hardships. When she sees something she likes, she goes for it—she has guts.”
Bi Tan remembered those early days when Ye Lin skyrocketed to fame upon debut. With his striking face, romantic rumors never ceased. But thanks to his icy demeanor that kept others at arm’s length, lesser-known stars didn’t dare approach him, knowing they weren’t worthy. Those bold enough to flirt were already famous actresses—but even their pursuits were fleeting and cautious, never overly invested or passionate. Most retreated quickly after receiving a rejection signal because at their level, denial wasn’t something they could—or wanted—to accept.
They liked him, but they loved themselves more.
So, truth be told, despite countless attempts to cozy up to Ye Lin for publicity, no one had ever truly, passionately loved him.
In Ye Lin’s life, Yan Man was one of a kind.
The only one who openly confessed her feelings, pursued him with sincerity, warmth, and brightness—not for his fame, not to gain anything from him, not driven by greed or impatience. She constructed for him an interesting,烟火气-filled human world.
She seemed stronger than anyone else, knowing exactly what she wanted without being swayed by pointless opinions. She possessed the firmness of an adult yet retained a childlike innocence.
Thus, when Ye Lin admitted he’d fallen for her, Bi Tan wasn’t surprised. He merely sighed inwardly: Finally, finally.
Thinking of this, Bi Tan glanced at him. Ye Lin was leaning back against the seat, watching her interview.
At a certain point, his finger paused.
Bi Tan: “What are you thinking about?”
Ye Lin spoke lowly: “No wonder she’s been staying at hotels—is she fighting with her family?”
Bi Tan: “...”
“Why are they fighting? Whose fault is it? How much does it affect her?”
Bi Tan: “Everyone’s focused on how rich her family is, and here you are worrying about why she’s fighting with them?”
“Ye Lin, you’re more love-struck than I thought.”
“...”
After finishing her event and shooting a pictorial, it was already evening.
The male lead actor whose part had wrapped earlier suggested celebrating since his scenes were minimal and wouldn’t require reshoots. He mentioned a barbecue place near the school where filming took place, always packed with customers. Could they use the wrap party as an excuse to indulge without angering their managers?
Everyone eagerly agreed, and the location was set.
When Yan Man arrived, everyone was already seated.
She sat in the only empty spot. The actress next to her was flipping through the menu, astonished: “You guys ordered so many carbs! Fried rice, fried noodles, and even grilled buns? Oh my god, calorie bombs.”
As everyone knows, actors must maintain strict control over their figures. Carbs promote fat synthesis, making them the lifelong enemy of female artists.
Their daily meals avoided rice entirely, opting for boiled vegetables and minimally seasoned meats.
Just as the actress finished speaking, plates of fried noodles arrived.
Someone volunteered to portion them out with serving chopsticks. Out of the corner of their eye, they noticed Yan Man picking up a strand of noodles, rolling it twice, before slowly putting it in her mouth.
Remembering the morning’s news, and seeing Yan Man’s subtle change in expression, they wondered if they’d picked the wrong seat. Would she reject the food outright and spit it out?
The next moment, Yan Man covered her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes: “Carbs… so delicious…”
Silence for half a second, then the whole table burst into laughter: “Hahahaha, indeed!”
The actress laughed so hard she nearly dropped her chopsticks. “Let me try…”
In the end, two actresses who had sworn off barbecue after debuting unanimously agreed on the deliciousness of carbs.
Unfortunately, the joy was short-lived. Before they could eat another bite, their managers swooped in, sitting opposite them.
Simon: “Tasty?”
Yan Man: “...”
She pointed to a skewer on the plate and negotiated: “I won’t eat a whole skewer, just one piece—the small one on top, just one.”
After a pause, she added: “I’ll exercise when I get back.”
Simon crossed his arms: “High oil, high salt. Your face will swell tomorrow.”
“Impossible,” Yan Man denied immediately. “My face listens to me. If I don’t want it to swell, it absolutely won’t.”
“...”
Yan Man: “Look at this dish placed right in front of me. If I don’t eat it, isn’t that disrespectful? Since childhood, we’ve been taught to respect food. Don’t you agree?”
“And if I don’t eat it, some other artist will. Since someone has to bear the burden of carbs, why shouldn’t it be me?”
“I’ll show respect,” Simon reached over and grabbed the skewer. “Let me shoulder this pain!”
Yan Man: ?
She took a deep breath and clenched her fists.
Not allowed to eat, and with barbecue being high in oil and salt, Yan Man distracted herself by scrolling through Weibo on her phone.
Ye Lin, sitting beside her, was far freer. Occasionally, the sound of clinking shells drew angry glances from her.
Ye Lin: “...”
Soon, Yan Man, engrossed in her phone, suddenly found a shelled clam in front of her, courtesy of Ye Lin to her left.
Her first instinct was to look up at Simon.
Ye Lin had already checked: “He’s talking to someone else.”
Just as Ye Lin finished speaking, Simon shifted slightly, as if about to turn around. Not having time to react, Yan Man hastily grabbed Ye Lin’s hand, bit the clam off, and quickly spat out the shell into the trash. After chewing, she looked up.
Simon eyed them suspiciously: “What are you two doing?”
But soon, catching sight of the faint red mark on Ye Lin’s finger, Simon’s suspicion turned to shock. “Did you bite his finger until it bled?”
“...”
Yan Man glanced sideways and realized she hadn’t controlled her force while dodging earlier. She quickly grabbed a tissue and wiped Ye Lin’s finger.
Ye Lin opened his lips, seemingly about to say something, but Yan Man acted swiftly, covering his mouth with her hand.
After a while, Ye Lin whispered: “If we don’t explain, your manager will misunderstand.”
“Better to be misunderstood,” Yan Man said seriously, “than let him know I ate three clams tonight.”
“...”
The dinner concluded half an hour later, and the finger incident was glossed over. However, the paparazzi waiting outside for gossip didn’t rest.
Seeing no explosive news like “Yan Man passed out in Ye Lin’s arms,” they couldn’t leave empty-handed. So they edited a video focusing on Yan Man buying band-aids, which eventually appeared on Ye Lin’s finger.
The fanbase sprang into action, sensing something was amiss:
[Ye Lin… his hand is bleeding…]
[?? What did they do?]
[They did it.]
[?]
[Hahahaha, Chinese language, profound and intricate.]
Not only is the Chinese language profound, but everyone’s minds and hands are quick.
The Yan-Ye fandom had grown significantly. Beyond the usual content creators, fresh videos inspired by fingers appeared on a video platform’s midnight slot.
Unaware of all this, Yan Man felt dizzy the next afternoon after wearing contact lenses for too long and went to a nearby hospital for a checkup. There was nothing wrong, but the pupil-dilating eyedrops made small print blurry.
The doctor reassured her: “It’s fine. It’ll wear off in a few hours. Just don’t drive—you can do other things.”
Though close details were blurry, she could see general outlines and distant objects clearly. Returning to the set, Yan Man decided to rest for a bit.
Zhou Xuan and Simon coordinated schedules elsewhere.
Yan Man entered the makeup room, which was quiet except for Ye Lin, who sat on the couch reading the script.
She sat beside him, planning to rest for a moment.
Before resting, Yan Man habitually pulled out her phone and noticed a white notification box pop up.
Someone had messaged her, but she couldn’t tell who.
She held her phone out to Ye Lin: “Can you help me check? Who messaged me?”
“Zhou Xuan,” Ye Lin replied. “What’s wrong with your eyes?”
“It’s nothing,” she said. “I just got checked and used eyedrops. I’ll be able to see clearly soon.”
Unable to resist checking messages, she tapped in and listened to Zhou Xuan’s voice note: “Guess what I just found on the homepage?! Too wild!!”
Zhou Xuan sounded excited, and Yan Man’s curiosity was piqued. She urged Ye Lin again: “Help me check what’s written on the link she shared.”
Ye Lin glanced at it: “...”
Sensing his silence, Yan Man encouraged him: “It’s okay, just read it aloud. I’ll process it mentally.”
Ye Lin looked at her: “Are you sure?”
“Sure,” Yan Man urged. “Hurry up.”
“...”
After a pause, Ye Lin enunciated carefully: “Yan Man x Ye Lin, vertical bar, late-night capture.”
Yan Man felt something wasn’t quite right: “...”
Then, after a slight pause as if preparing himself mentally, he continued in a steady tone: “Midnight mini-theater, desire, sofa, mirror, an empty theater, a makeup room ready to be disturbed at any moment—where else can fingertips dance besides on piano keys?”
“There’s one more line.”
Ye Lin sat on the couch, facing the bright makeup mirror. Outside the set, voices buzzed, but in the empty makeup room, his breathing echoed softly. “Do you want to hear more?”
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