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Psst! We're moving!
Yan Man paused in the middle of drying her hair.
A droplet of water trickled down from her bangs, hitting the floor with a soft plop.
“Ah,” she blinked and confirmed, “You took this role… because of me?”
“Mm.”
Yan Man thought for a moment. “Is it because the previous roles didn’t have happy endings? Or is it that the audience wants to see us pair up again? Or… you just wanted to act in an idol drama?”
“No,” Ye Lin added, “None of that.”
“Then what is it?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but just then, Yan Man suddenly sneezed.
Zhou Xuan hurriedly walked in from outside. “You too! Didn’t even bring your clothes! What if you catch a cold? Hurry and go get changed, quickly!”
Yan Man was pushed toward the dressing room but still looked back at him. “But—”
“No buts! Get changed and dry yourself off first!”
And so, Yan Man was pushed into the dressing room. By the time she had dried off and blow-dried her hair, more than twenty minutes had passed.
She checked the time and walked out—no one was around.
Zhou Xuan came over. “All done? We need to head to the new crew for a table read. Ready to go?”
“Yeah. But…” Yan Man looked around, “Where’s Ye Lin?”
“Teacher Shi had something to say to him, they’ve been talking for a while.”
“Want me to go get him?”
Yan Man shook her head. “No, let’s not interrupt.”
It probably wasn’t anything urgent. If there’s no chance today, then next time.
She zipped up her jacket. “Let’s go quickly or we’ll be late.”
By the time the script reading was over, it was already past ten.
She returned to the hotel at 11:30 PM. Her brain was essentially wiped, making room for the new character. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the script no matter what she did.
After taking a shower, she realized she’d forgotten to put on a face mask.
While peeling one open, her phone screen lit up.
Ye Lin: Back yet?
She smoothed the mask onto her face and slowly typed:
Yan Man: Just got back. How did you know?
Ye Lin: I’m on the balcony.
He had been sitting there for a while and saw the light in her room turn on.
She slid open the glass door and went out—and sure enough, there was a figure leaning against the balcony railing.
“Aren’t you cold out here?” Yan Man asked. “Why are you standing there?”
Then she remembered, “Oh right, about what you said—the reason you took the role—were you not done saying something?”
Ye Lin looked at her for a moment, then said, “Mm.”
Yan Man: “Wanna say it now?”
She was wearing a thin purple fleece pajama set, clearly not made for the cold breeze tonight. She stomped her feet to stay warm, and the face mask muffled her voice.
All in all, it really wasn’t the right time for this conversation.
“Next time,” he said. “It’s cold out here. You should go in and rest.”
She was happy to comply and nodded, gently rubbing her fingers together. “You should head in soon too. This wind is brutal.”
She turned to go when he called her again: “Next time… tomorrow or the day after, when are you free?”
He was afraid that if they didn’t set a time, “next time” would become the kind of thing adults say when they mean “never.”
Yan Man thought for a second. “I’ll have to check my schedule. Things have been hectic lately.”
“Alright,” he said. “Let me know anytime.”
“Okay, I’m going to sleep now, alright?” She pointed at her room. “We’ve got an early start tomorrow. This place is far from the set.”
“Okay. Good night.”
He watched her go inside, seemingly saying something to someone inside. He could hear bits and pieces drifting out.
“Didn’t get enough sleep… we’ll find a place closer to the set…”
Then the door closed completely, and her figure disappeared behind the window.
The wind blew hard that night, but he stood out there for a long time.
________________________________________
The next afternoon, Yan Man was filming. Off to the side, Simon finally had time to check his phone.
Two hours ago, Bi Tan had sent him a message:
Dumbass: Are you guys planning to switch hotels?
An hour later, since Simon hadn’t replied:
Dumbass: Can you not move out yet?
Simon saw the contact name and chuckled before his expression turned serious.
Simon: Why? What are you up to? What’s your agenda?
The reply came fast, like the sender had nothing better to do than talk to him about this.
Dumbass: I don’t have an agenda.
Simon, very sharp: Then does your artist have an agenda?
There was silence on the other end for over three minutes.
Dumbass: Just don’t move yet.
Even though Yan Man had denied everything before, Simon was now inclined to trust his instincts again.
Simon: Ye Lin asked you to talk to me, didn’t he?
Simon: You think we won’t move just because you say so? Based on what?
Dumbass: ...
Having worked with Yan Man for so long, Simon now acted like a devoted father:
Simon: I’m telling you! My daughter’s not that easy to win over! No dowry, no nothing, and you expect me to give my blessing to this relationship?!
Dumbass: ?
Dumbass: Don’t take it that far.
Simon: You think this is far? Isn’t your whole plan just to get me to create opportunities for them? Let me tell you—if it’s up to me, and your side is being represented by YOU, I definitely won’t say yes that easily!!!
Finally, Bi Tan couldn’t take it and fired back.
Dumbass: Stop being shameless, Yang Simon!
Simon: We’re talking about our artists. Don’t make it personal.
Bi Tan: I will make it personal! What are you gonna do about it?!
Then “Dumbass” sent a screenshot of the “My daughter’s not that easy to win over” line—highlighting the words my daughter in red.
Dumbass: Screenshot saved. Sending it to Yan Wen Dong right now.
Simon: ...
Thus, the “negotiations” between the two managers collapsed.
________________________________________
After filming, Yan Man returned to the car.
She poured herself a cup of hot water, warming up while chatting with Simon. “Did you get that new hotel I asked about last night?”
“Yeah, it was booked this morning.” Simon decided not to tell her about what had just happened. After all, everything was set and there was no need to add to her worries. “Want to go tonight?”
“Sure. Let’s stop by the hotel first so I can grab my essentials.”
“Okay,” Simon said. “You don’t need much. We can help you move the rest later.”
“Alright.” She nodded.
They returned to the hotel quickly. She packed some personal clothes and skincare items—all of it fit in one bag.
Simon took the bag down to the car first. “I’ll wait downstairs. Come down when you’re ready.”
Yan Man was going to put her cat Nuomi into the carrier, but the little guy was being especially clingy that night and refused to settle unless she held him.
She sighed, carrying the cat in her arms. After turning off all the lights, she was about to leave when something on the balcony caught her eye.
“Oh right, Nuomi’s toy—I forgot it.”
Holding the cat in one hand, she slid open the glass door. When she turned back, she saw someone on the neighboring balcony.
Ye Lin was standing there. Who knows how long he’d been there, his gaze fixed on her darkened room, eyes dim.
“Leaving?”
“Yeah,” she nodded. “This place is a bit far, so I figured I’d stay somewhere closer.”
The kitten wriggled in her arms. Yan Man smiled and lifted one of Nuomi’s white paws, waving it at him.
“So… see you around?”
Afraid of disturbing Nuomi’s nap, her movements were small, her steps light. The final sound of the door closing echoed quietly—then she was gone.
It was especially slow.
However, though the man lowered his gaze, it felt as if his chest was linked to some massive tremor—like the quaking of the earth just before the world collapses. No sirens blared anywhere, but he knew clearly that something, following her departing steps…
Collapsed along with it.
How long does it take to go from emptiness to fullness? And how long does it take for a carefully reconstructed world to collapse again?
He closed his eyes.
To her, these past few days might have been nothing more than a simple wrap-up of filming, a routine transition. But to him, it was the disappearance of the bridge that connected the two of them.
As it turns out, pain in the heart wasn’t limited to acting—there was a dull ache now, like being slowly tortured by countless cuts. The lighter her steps, the deeper the pain each cut brought.
So gently and politely, she had removed him from the critical equation of her decision.
She wouldn’t leave because of him, nor stay because of him.
But when had it started? When had she gained the ability to sway all of his emotions and decisions?
Sometimes Yan Man suspected the heavens were deliberately targeting her.
The best hotel near the set was a four-star one. She hadn’t thought much of it at first—until the first night, when she was woken up by flirtatious moaning from the room next door.
The second day, she discovered the windows had no protective barriers—very unfriendly for someone who owned a cat.
The third day was the most outrageous: the front desk somehow let paparazzi into the hotel. Yan Man was about to head out for a quick errand when she saw a suspicious figure holding a camera hiding in the corner. She was forced to retreat to her room.
She felt like if she stayed any longer, she’d have a nervous breakdown.
“Let’s go back,” she called Simon. “Otherwise, tomorrow my face will be all over the gossip headlines.”
“……”
While they were getting ready to return, Bi Tan was out on the balcony chatting with Ye Lin.
Bi Tan said, “Go inside and get some sleep.”
“I already slept.”
“Three hours a night and you call that sleep? Don’t joke with me,” Bi Tan said. “Come on, there’s nothing for you to do out here anyway. Go lie down, will you?”
Ye Lin replied calmly, “I can’t sleep.”
“Why not? You never had this problem before.” Bi Tan glanced inside. “What, not comfortable staying here?”
Holding his cup, Ye Lin paused slightly. “Mm, not comfortable.”
Following his line of sight, Bi Tan looked over and finally realized his gaze was fixed on the balcony opposite. He immediately understood everything.
He sighed, “Don’t look anymore.”
“No matter how much you look, she’s not coming back—”
Before he could finish, the sound of a key card being swiped rang out somewhere nearby—decisive and sharp. The next second, Yan Man’s voice came from the room next door.
She flopped onto the bed with a sigh. “Ah, this place really is more comfortable.”
Bi Tan: “……”
“What the—?” He turned around. “Did I just hear someone talking?”
But his artist was even faster. The next moment, Ye Lin had already dialed Yan Man’s number.
She picked up lazily, “Hello?”
His voice was low but filled with barely contained emotion: “You’re back?”
She replied, “Yeah. That place was too unbearable. Luckily I found another route that lets me sleep ten minutes more in the morning.”
Then she suddenly realized something. “Crap, I forgot to bring the cat food back.”
Simon had gone to the office today, and Zhou Xuan had just left for the supermarket.
While she was still thinking, the person across said, “I still have some.”
She thought that made sense—she could go grab some as an emergency supply. “Then you—”
Ye Lin said, “Should I come over now?”
She frowned a little, puzzled. “Right now?”
“Mm.”
She rubbed Nuo Mi’s (the cat’s) belly and figured it was fine. “Okay, come on over. He seems a little hungry. Bring two small fish snacks and a can of cat food.”
She sat on the bed for a while, and five minutes later, the doorbell rang.
Yan Man felt a bit paranoid at this point—because when she saw Ye Lin arrive, she instinctively glanced around to make sure no paparazzi were nearby.
He followed her glance. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. The security at that hotel was really bad,” she said. “They even let a paparazzo right to my door.”
“Unlike this place. From the parking lot to the elevator, everything’s secure.”
Otherwise, news of her and Ye Lin staying in the same hotel would have been all over the place by now.
He bent down, preparing the cat food as he responded in a low voice, “Yeah, the security here is top-notch.”
She had meant to do it herself, but he had slipped into the role so quickly that Yan Man simply sat on the bed and nodded, continuing, “Right? You have no idea. The soundproofing there is terrible. You could hear all sorts of things at night.”
Ye Lin paused. “What kind of things?”
“…Things that are hard to describe.”
The room went quiet for a moment after she said that.
Yan Man sensed the atmosphere had become a bit strange, but soon it returned to normal.
She leaned against the wall watching him feed the cat. No one knew how much time had passed, but when Ye Lin stood up, she had already fallen asleep on the bed.
She must not have been resting well these days if she could fall asleep so easily.
Her blanket was pulled up tightly, wrapping her like a vanilla mochi ball, with only a palm-sized face exposed. Her eyelids didn’t flutter—she was in deep sleep.
He remembered once reading a sentence somewhere.
Falling asleep in the presence of others meant revealing your least defensive self, showing a level of trust in them.
So did that mean… she trusted him?
Yan Man didn’t wake until evening. When she opened her eyes, the room had already grown dim.
She turned on the bedside lamp, gently rubbed the corner of her eyes, and saw the man sitting on the chair.
She didn’t know what he’d been doing, but when she looked over, he happened to look back.
“I slept until now?” she sat up. “You didn’t leave? Why didn’t you turn on the lights?”
“I didn’t want the door closing to wake you,” he said. “Same for the lights.”
That was true.
Feeling rested, she got up with a smile and tousled her hair. “Then I’ll treat you to dinner. Come on, what do you want to eat?”
The hotel’s basement had a lounge with great privacy. Yan Man booked a private room, and the two of them went up only after finishing dinner.
In the elevator, she couldn’t help but sigh, like a soldier returning from training: “You only realize how nice this hotel is after staying somewhere else.”
The man looked down at her.
In the hotel, she naturally dressed for comfort. She was wearing a fluffy white coat that looked super warm, her hair tied in a little ponytail at the back, and she was playing with the room key in her hands—completely relaxed, something she hadn’t been in a while.
Then, the same man who had said the hotel was “uncomfortable” just a few hours ago… gave the faintest upward curl of his lips.
“It is pretty nice.”
The filming of Urban Traveler soon got back on track. Everything was ready, and the production team planned to officially announce the cast.
They had hired heavyweight actors for this show—besides Yan Man, there was a Best Actress and a Best TV Actress. Her importance in the project was clear.
Because this was a top-tier project, the announcement was done via a press conference, with reporters and major streaming executives present. It also served to attract more investment.
The event was scheduled for 6 p.m., and Yan Man had been filming until around 4 p.m. before she headed to the venue.
Simon asked, “Want to change your makeup to a red carpet style?”
“No need,” she said. “That would be flashier but not in line with today’s vibe. Besides, I’m playing a very ordinary character—this look fits better.”
“Alright then. I’ll contact the PR team now and—”
Simon opened his phone mid-sentence, and his voice trailed off until he suddenly burst out, “What the f**k?!”
Yan Man: “What happened?”
It took Simon ten minutes of gossip to piece it together.
“Just now, you and Bian He’s episode broke ten million views. To celebrate, the official account posted some behind-the-scenes photos of you two. In a lot of them, he’s looking at you and smiling. Since you two are friends, people started shipping you—saying things like ‘puppy love becomes real’…”
“Mm, and then?”
“Then someone started a thread on a forum, holding a poll asking: Who do you think suits Yan Man better—Yan Ye or Man He? Which CP is the real deal?”
“Over ten thousand people participated.”
“…”
“Fans of both ships are arguing, each insisting their CP is the real one. To prove it, they posted lots of pictures of you two together. And then—”
“Suddenly someone dropped a ton of photos of you and Ye Lin from the Past Years production team.”
Yan Man’s heart skipped a beat. “Were they unreleased looks?”
“…”
“No, not that,” Simon sighed internally—figures that her main concern is her professional image. “They’re all official photos released by the crew. Won’t affect the movie’s release.”
She let out a breath. “That’s good then.”
As for the photos, she’s an actress after all. As long as the photos aren’t ugly or edited maliciously, she didn’t mind. Actors live in front of the camera anyway.
Simon: “But who would’ve thought it’d happen to hit today? The arguments started in the afternoon, and just now, City Traveler’s official account made the cast announcement. Do you know what that means?”
Yan Man paused. “People will think I’m creating a buzz for myself—trying to ride Ye Lin’s popularity because the new drama’s about to be announced?”
“Exactly. I haven’t seen it yet, but the media is definitely going to ask about it later,” Simon tugged at his shirt nervously. “Listen, the press is really good at digging traps. The more you say, the more mistakes you’ll make. Just don’t say a word.”
“Because once you say one thing, they’ll keep leading you on until you finish the sentence, and then they’ll edit it like crazy—make black into white.”
Yan Man: “What if I can’t hold it in?”
“You better hold it in!” Simon, for once, spoke with authority. “Or we come up with a fixed answer now, and you just repeat those few words later.”
Yan Man thought for a moment.
When it comes to rumors, it’s usually about romantic hype, orchestrated publicity, and public transparency.
She said, “Don’t know. Not sure. Don’t know him.”
Nine words—covered all bases.
“Perfect!” Simon said. “Just those nine words, okay? Don’t say a word more.”
Simon’s prediction was spot on. After all the official launch event steps, when it came time for media interviews, every mic turned to her.
One reporter was especially blatant, clearly baiting: “This afternoon, someone leaked intimate photos of you and Ye Lin on set. Soon after, City Traveler announced the cast. Was this orchestrated by your team? Were you aware? What’s your comment? What’s your relationship with Ye Lin?”
Yan Man calmly deflected: “Don’t know. Not sure. Don’t know him.”
Any further questions were met with the same nine-word refrain. Sure enough, when the media realized they couldn’t dig anything out of her, they gave up.
Getting off the stage, Yan Man couldn’t help but think—being an actress really had taught her a lot.
But shortly after getting in the car, her nine-word “masterclass in vague denial” made it onto the hot search.
[I’m dying of laughter hahaha how is even her denial this funny?!]
[What’s so funny? I really don’t get it 🤨 They release sweet photos right before a drama announcement—who else would it be if not her? Isn’t this just obvious self-promotion? If she admitted it outright, I might even respect it. Everyone in the industry wants to get famous, right? So many actresses climbed up that way. But pretending to be innocent while still playing the game? Gross.]
Simon had filtered out the worst of it before reading them aloud to protect her mood.
Simon: “At least there are still plenty of people who find you cute...”
But as soon as he refreshed, Simon froze, inhaled sharply, then looked up at her in shock.
Yan Man: “What is it?”
Simon looked like his jaw had dislocated. He stared, speechless.
Yan Man, getting impatient, grabbed his phone and looked.
10 seconds ago.
Ye Lin: [Stop guessing. I posted it. Sweet enough for you?]
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