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Psst! We're moving!
This was a big misunderstanding.
Yan Man quickly stood up. “No, no, I didn’t bookmark our CP fan.”
Ye Lin pointed to the top right corner.
On the user’s profile page, next to the bookmark icon, a yellow star indicated it had been saved.
Yan Man: “...”
She explained: “It’s a misunderstanding. When I bookmarked her, she wasn’t this type of person yet.”
“What was she then?”
If she were to explain further, she would risk exposing herself.
—She couldn’t bear to imagine the reaction if Ye Lin or other CP fans found out that she had made that BE (bad ending) video.
“Breaking News! Yan Man Was Once the Sole CP Fan and All-Round Producer in the Yan-Ye Fandom?!”
And then she’d be mocked by Simon for ten days straight.
She shuddered at the thought and decided to give a vague explanation.
“I mean, for certain reasons, I bookmarked this person. But later on, she became a CP fan.” Yan Man said, “I didn’t know until just now when I discovered this. Look, I’ve already unbookmarked her.”
With a light tap, the yellow star turned white.
Ye Lin: “...”
Yan Man licked her lips. “As for why I bookmarked her back then—it’s personal, something I can’t reveal right now. You understand, right?”
—It was simply that she wanted to see them get embarrassed, only for them to actually embarrass her one day and catch her completely off guard, leading to her social death.
At this point, she walked toward the door. Coincidentally, Simon entered just then. She put on her down jacket and zipped it up fully.
She decided to bury this potentially explosive piece of history deep within her heart forever.
After getting dressed, Yan Man pushed the door open and left.
But before leaving, the person wrapped up like a black dumpling turned back to him and said:
“You think I’m mysterious, don’t you?”
Ye Lin: “...”
He wasn’t sure how mysterious she was, but he was certain of one thing—he had fallen for her.
He began to deeply ponder her actions and question her motives.
Just like the question she had asked outside his car after wrapping up the Republican-era drama—
He wondered: Did she have even a little bit of feelings for him?
Or rather… did she still like him?
He couldn’t tell.
Back at the hotel, the man rarely opened the app store, downloaded the video platform, and found the user she had bookmarked.
“My True Identity Is Your Dad.”
If what she said was true—that she had bookmarked this person earlier—why had she done so? What motive could such a username possibly give her?
Could it have anything to do with him?
Unfortunately, scrolling through the entire profile didn’t provide any answers.
Could it be that what she said wasn’t entirely true?
Had she bookmarked their CP fan… because she… liked him?
Ye Lin pinched the bridge of his nose forcefully, feeling waves of pain in his temples.
Meanwhile, Yan Man was completely unaware of all this. She relaxed with a bath and then spent some time playing with her pet, Nuomi.
When she opened WeChat, she saw that Bian He had sent her a message: [Manman, can you help me repost this on Weibo?]
Switching to Weibo, she saw that it was about Bian He’s new drama that was about to premiere.
Since entering the industry, Simon had taught her quite a bit. For instance, during promotional periods like this, many artists would post on their social media or privately message their fellow artist friends to ask them to repost and help boost publicity.
Previously, when her drama aired, Bian He had voluntarily helped her promote it.
Many artists had already reposted Bian He’s Weibo post.
She replied with an “OK” emoji, thought for a moment about her repost caption, then took a screenshot and sent it to him.
[Skiiing competition theme,] she was curious. [Did you really learn skiing?]
Bian He: [Yeah, it was pretty challenging. I kept falling during the early stages.]
She said: [Actually, I kind of want to try something like this too—it’d let me learn a new skill.]
Bian He replied: [For you, skiing or curling would both be great. You can ask Simon to help line up some opportunities, but be prepared to work as hard as an athlete.]
After thinking for a moment, she added: [Dance-related roles could work too.]
...
In the neighboring room, Ye Lin refreshed his Weibo feed and came across this post.
Yan Man: [Come check out Teacher Bian He’s cool skiing pics 👍]
She had reposted a nine-grid collage of Bian He’s drama stills.
Clicking into the comments section, Bian He had also replied to her: [Looking forward to Manman’s kayaking adventure two days from now 👍]
Fans in the comments provided context—it turned out that the short series had gained positive feedback, and the flagship program of the broadcasting network had invited them to film an outdoor variety show. The theme? Kayaking.
Ye Lin stared at the two thumbs-up emojis on the screen, recalling the basketball photos they had exchanged before—also with thumbs-up reactions, almost like some sort of exclusive symbol between them. It made him inexplicably irritated.
Don’t they have WeChat? Do they have to chat in the comments section?
Thinking about it, the man paused again.
Having WeChat… wouldn’t that be even more dangerous?
Caught between these conflicting thoughts, he couldn’t decide whether it was better for them to add each other on WeChat or not.
He stood up and caught sight of his furrowed brows in the mirror.
In front of him was the hotel’s custom glass cabinet, rising upward from the corner. He looked up and spotted a bottle of Louis XIII on the third shelf.
Just as Bi Tan pushed the door open, he was met with this scene.
The man was slumped in the chair by the desk, his untouched notebook in front of him. His fingers were pressing the spacebar intermittently, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes lightly, sometimes firmly.
Bi Tan approached curiously. As Ye Lin’s fingers paused, the constantly shifting subtitles on the screen froze on one phrase—
She likes me.
Bi Tan: “...”
As soon as Ye Lin released the spacebar, it jumped again, and another subtitle flashed on the screen—
She doesn’t like me.
Ye Lin downed the champagne in his glass in one gulp.
Then he continued shaking it.
Bi Tan sniffed the alcohol-laden air in the room. “Are you... are you okay?”
Ye Lin pressed his forehead, his voice low but steady. “Not drunk.”
“Not drunk?”
The man glanced up at Bi Tan, his gaze clear yet unsettlingly dark.
Bi Tan instinctively took two steps back. “...”
It seemed like he wasn’t drunk, but at the same time, it felt like he was.
Bi Tan couldn’t tell. “What are you doing? Are you some lovesick maiden plucking rose petals to test if her boyfriend loves her?”
After a pause, Bi Tan pointed at the screen. “And what’s this?”
“A tester,” Ye Lin said succinctly.
Bi Tan: “Who made it for you?”
“A friend.”
“...”
So you’ve already gone crazy once.
The man was slouched in a velvet-upholstered stool, a backlight casting deep shadows across his sharp features. His body leaned slightly forward, brows furrowed, high nose bridge prominent, jawline sharp and defined.
From any angle, it looked like the opening scene of an art film—rich, heavy, and visually striking.
—If only you could ignore the fact that he was relentlessly pressing the spacebar.
Bi Tan stood there for a few seconds when suddenly Ye Lin tilted his head slightly, his expression serious, as if he had something important to say.
Thinking it might be a crucial topic, Bi Tan straightened up immediately. But just as he did, the man frowned, his hoarse voice breaking the silence. “Does she really like me or not?”
Bi Tan: “...”
Bi Tan opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the man interrupted again, uninterested.
“Forget it. I don’t want to hear it.”
“...”
Then why the hell did you ask me?
Ye Lin leaned back slightly, tilting his neck. The line of his profile slid along his throat, the curve taut like a bowstring ready to release in the darkness.
Suddenly, memories from the Republican-era drama set began flooding back uncontrollably.
Her laughing as she leaned close, handing him a stuffed bear, running into his room to help him shave, asking if it was his first kiss—vivid, lively, and no longer belonging to him.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and the scorching heat of his palm covered his eyes, radiating a faint warmth.
In a hoarse voice, he muttered, “She doesn’t really like me. She just wants to sleep with me.”
His words grew slurred, as if soaked and fermented by the alcohol. In that moment, something inside him seemed to slip away.
Bi Tan parted his lips, his heart tightening momentarily before falling silent again.
“Though, honestly,” Bi Tan said cautiously, “what you’re saying is extremely arrogant.”
“...”
The man raised his eyelids to look at him, his pupils dark like the deepest, quietest part of the night, impenetrable and endless.
Unable to resist, Bi Tan pulled out a small mirror and held it in front of him. “Look at yourself. How are you any different from those love-struck, heartbroken men?”
As soon as he finished, Bi Tan added thoughtfully, “Oh, except you’re much better-looking than them.”
...
“Come on, come on! It’s just two people filming a variety show together! You weren’t there last time, but you can’t miss this time, right?!”
Bi Tan: “Wait, I’ll go negotiate right now. No variety show would refuse a surprise appearance by Ye Lin.”
“If they do,” Bi Tan’s tone shifted, shrugging nonchalantly, “then there’s nothing I can do.”
“...”
The variety show was confirmed that very night. The production team was flustered, quickly asking if they needed to prepare a private car, special meals, or specific segment requests.
“No,” Bi Tan replied. “Just make sure Yan Man is ready.”
Production team: “Got it, got it!”
Early the next morning, Bi Tan rushed to his top artist’s room to deliver the good news.
At nine in the morning, Ye Lin had just woken up.
He bent his legs, the blanket lifting halfway, creating uneven folds. His elbow rested on his knee, wrist propping up his forehead, his expression obscured.
Only the outermost curtain was drawn, the faint sunlight filtering through and casting a soft glow over his wrist bones.
Bi Tan quickly whipped out his phone and snapped a picture, thinking how the studio finally had some candid photos to post. Satisfied, he nodded. “Not bad.”
Ye Lin raised his head: “...”
Bi Tan put away his phone, leaning against the wall, hesitating before speaking. “Last night—”
Ye Lin threw off the blanket and got out of bed, cutting him off. “Shut up.”
“I have to know,” Bi Tan, the manager, scurried after him in tiny steps as they entered the bathroom. “Were you drunk? Sober? Half-drunk, half-sober? Did everything feel okay? Did you cry in the middle of the night and call Yan Man to confess your love?”
Ye Lin shot him a glance. “Do you think I’m you?”
Bi Tan, who had cried drunkenly and called his ex to declare his love: “...”
“Of course not,” Bi Tan teased cheerfully. “You’re not the type. You were just drunk, holding onto that generator, repeatedly testing ‘she likes me, she doesn’t like me.’ And because of a simple retweet, you got so worked up, muttering angrily about how she used to say she only loved you.”
“...”
Bi Tan continued: “Why bother filming this variety show anyway? What’s so great about that stupid kayaking program? Why do they get all these after-show interactions while we don’t? Why are they sending each other thumbs-ups? Just because they can ski, I’ll learn it tomorrow!!!”
Suddenly, a notification chime sounded, and Bi Tan glanced down at his phone—a million yuan had been transferred into his account.
Ye Lin put his phone down. “Year-end bonus.”
“Thank you, boss!” With hush money in hand, Bi Tan immediately shut up. Bowing respectfully, he said, “I’ve already forgotten what happened last night. I don’t know why that kayaking variety show suddenly reached out, but I accepted it. We’ll film tomorrow.”
...
“Alright.”
Wednesday, the variety show commenced right on schedule.
Yan Man’s car got stuck in traffic for a bit, and by the time she arrived, everyone else was already there.
There were quite a few guests today, and from afar, she spotted a row of people dressed in matching outfits. One of them stood out, exceptionally tall.
She stepped out of the car and greeted everyone one by one. After waving to Bian He, she turned her head and saw Ye Lin.
So the tall figure she’d noticed earlier was him.
She wanted to ask why he was here, but then she realized—he wasn’t hers to claim, so he didn’t need to report everything to her.
Everyone else appeared calm, so she decided not to act too surprised.
Though she didn’t know that the other guests had already gotten over their shock ten minutes ago.
“Hey,” she casually greeted. “We meet again?”
“Mm,” Ye Lin replied. “We just saw each other last night.”
Bian He, sensing something was off but unable to pinpoint it: ?
Since she was the last to arrive, the lineup placed her next to Ye Lin.
Yan Man stood still, adjusting her hem as the director explained the rules.
“Alright, the live broadcast has officially started, and welcome our six guests! Today, we’ve arrived at Water City, so naturally, we’ll be doing activities related to water.”
Chat: [Water-based DOI]
[Full support.]
Director: “Before we begin, we’ll pair up into teams of two. We have three female guests here, so ladies first—they get to choose their partners.”
At this point, Bian He tilted his head slightly, looking past Ye Lin to glance at Yan Man.
Though his expression was still a bit nervous and shy, the implication was obvious.
The camera zoomed in on Ye Lin.
Ye Lin: “...”
[Flirting with my wife right in front of me, do you have [ice]?]
[Hahahaha why are you imitating Ye Lin’s older brother?!]
[Yan Zong: Insulting my sister, are you insane?]
The chat loved this kind of drama: [If the first female guest picks the third male guest, things will get interesting.]
Sure enough, the chat’s prediction came true. The first female guest didn’t pick Bian He, nor did she dare to touch Ye Lin. Instead, she chose the third male guest.
The second female guest laughed. “Manman, you go first. I have decision paralysis.”
[Hahahaha I love watching these chaotic scenes, everyone!!]
[Ye Lin! Hurry up and get jealous! Show some spirit!!]
[It’s Yan Man’s turn! I’m so nervous!!]
Suddenly handed the power to choose, Yan Man was momentarily stunned. She let out a soft “Ah.” In the few seconds of her silence, Bian He cleared his throat.
The director chuckled. “What is it, Xiao He? Want to give a little speech to win her over?”
Bian He smiled shyly. “No, my throat’s just a bit sore.”
“But I’ve worked with Manman before, and The Last Voice also aired on our channel. I hope to complete the tasks with her since we’re familiar. I’m a bit slow to warm up.”
The camera panned back to Ye Lin.
[Hahahahahahahaha!]
[Bian He, you’re too smooth. I love it.]
[Ye Lin! Be a man! Stand up for yourself!!!]
...
The venue fell silent for a moment.
Since Ye Lin hadn’t spoken, no one dared to push him to do so, leaving the situation awkwardly hanging.
At this moment, Yan Man noticed a butterfly fluttering its wings and landing on the tiles. Surprised, her attention was immediately drawn to it.
She took two steps forward, intending to show everyone the blue-winged butterfly.
But before she could speak, Ye Lin mistook her movement as her making a choice. Without hesitation, he reached out and grabbed her wrist.
[!!!]
Yan Man turned to look at him in shock.
Ye Lin: “Don’t choose him. Choose me.”
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