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Under the light, the edges of the paper were illuminated to near transparency.
Yan Man stared at the contract for a while, then tilted her head and smiled.
“If we’re going to continue… it probably shouldn’t be called a renewal anymore, right?”
She reached out, folded the contract, and placed it in the drawer beside her.
Then, looking up at him, she said, “Teacher Ye is so smart; you should know what I mean.”
Ye Lin lowered his eyes and gazed at her for a moment. His fingers twitched slightly as he murmured, “Then…”
“Shall we date?”
He was so clever.
It felt as though someone were gently squeezing her heart. She didn’t know why she wanted to laugh, but she couldn’t help the faint trembling that overtook her body. At that exact moment, the doorbell rang.
Yan Man nudged his shoulder. “The delivery must be here—they just texted me.”
Reluctantly, the man whispered, “You haven’t answered me yet.”
“I’ll answer later,” she said. “Hurry up and get the package first—it’ll be gone if you don’t.”
She asked, “Do you want people to see us?”
The next second, Ye Lin indeed got up and went to retrieve her package. From afar, she could still hear him say, “Thank you.”
Ye Lin handed her the delivery box, and she quickly tore it open, pulling out a red bag inside.
The man leaned down too. “What’s this?”
Yan Man replied, “Couplets for the cat bed.”
She had thought about it—his room wasn’t suitable for pasting decorations, but there needed to be some festive spirit. After much deliberation, putting couplets on the cat bed became the perfect solution.
Yan Man unfolded the couplets and held them up for him to see.
Seven “meows” on each side, with the horizontal scroll reading: “Meow Meow Meow Meow.”
Ye Lin: “...”
“Just kidding,” she laughed and flipped the couplets over. “There are words on the back.”
Though it was already past midnight, and he lived in a standalone villa, the cheers from outside weren’t hard to hear—the entire city was alive with celebration.
There were even the sounds of firecrackers, one after another.
After sticking the couplets on, Yan Man changed the cats into their new outfits and began rummaging through the bags beside her. “I have firecrackers too—do you want to try?”
He chuckled. “You actually bought things like this?”
“I bought them because they looked nice,” she said. “I’ve never played with them before—I was curious.”
Following the instructions, she tore off the bottom and peeled away the gold foil wrapping. Then she ran to the balcony, twisted the firework handle, and with a loud pop , colorful sparks burst into the air.
Yan Man nearly lost her grip, startled by the recoil of the firework. She stumbled slightly and exclaimed, “This has quite the kick!”
Ye Lin extended his hand. “Should I help you hold it?”
“Let’s do it together.”
She had only bought two. Taking out the second firework, she placed his left hand on top of it and covered it with her right hand, applying gentle pressure to twist it—
Silver sparks rained down gracefully from the sky. Outside the window, the streetlights grew brighter one by one. She turned her head, looked into his eyes, and smiled warmly. “Happy New Year.”
Ye Lin gazed at her and raised the corner of his lips. “Happy New Year.”
A moment later, she heard the man call her name again—not in a flat tone, but with a lingering inflection.
“Teacher Yan?”
The way he said it sounded almost flirtatious. She cleared her throat. “Hmm?”
“I like you.”
It wasn’t the first time she’d heard him say such words, but at this moment, amidst the roaring wind outside the window, she could feel her heartbeat quivering.
He moved closer, brushing away a piece of confetti that had fallen on her head. In a low voice, he repeated the earlier question—
“Shall we date?”
In the dimness of the night, his face appeared sharp and sculpted.
Yan Man stood on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and whispered softly in his ear, “No problem.”
That night, as if by unspoken agreement, neither of them rushed to prove anything. Instead, they lay down and talked for a long time.
During the conversation, she told him that her nickname on her mother’s side was “Sheng Sheng.” Almost as if granting special permission, she added at the end, “You can call me that too.”
He paused and asked, “Has only your mother ever called you that?”
“Mm,” she pulled the blanket up to cover her nose, took a deep breath, and smelled the fresh scent of his shower gel mixed with his natural crisp aroma. “But now, you’re the second.”
“My mother hoped I could walk slower but more steadily.”
The man lowered his eyes, recalling her WeChat username.
Sheng Sheng Man (Slowly Slowly).
“When I used to talk about this, I would always feel like crying,” she blinked, feeling the emotions welling up in her eyes and chest, and softly said, “But this time, it seems like I don’t.”
She thought, perhaps some wounds were beginning to heal slowly.
“Mm,” the man responded quietly, though it was unclear what exactly he was agreeing with. He said, “I will take her place and protect you.”
“Really?” she teased, tilting her head with a smile. “Sometimes I can be quite difficult.”
She was joking, but the man reached out, took her hand in his, and it was warm.
“Really,” he said.
Early the next morning, both of them woke up. Yan Man glanced at the clock—it was only 5:30 AM.
She yawned. “Why are you getting up? Go back to sleep—you don’t have work today.”
“It’s the last commercial for an endorsement I did previously—I need to shoot it today.”
“Oh,” she acknowledged. “What kind of advertisement?”
“A razor.”
At the mention of razors, Yan Man recalled how, during the filming of Floating Life in Old Years , she had squeezed into his room to watch the footage of him shooting material under the camera lens.
As if reading her mind, the man handed her a razor and said, “Didn’t you say you wanted to let me sleep five more minutes?”
It took her a moment to recall that she had indeed said those words.
Back then, standing in front of him, she had confidently asked how to use it. When met with his cold inquiry, she had grinned and said, “If I learn well, you can sleep five extra minutes in the morning.”
A random joke she had made offhandedly—she never expected it to come true someday.
Yan Man marveled at the twists of fate. Taking the razor, she asked him, “Then teach me—how do you use it?”
Ye Lin: “Just glide it flat.”
He guided her hand, shaving off the left side.
Yan Man reached out, gently pressing her fingers against the other side of his jaw, feeling the length of his stubble to gauge how much force to apply later.
But as she touched him, her focus began to drift. Somehow, she remembered the infamous “jawline incident” that people often praised. Her fingers slid along his jawline, and without thinking, she pressed lightly inward.
Standing in front of the sink in the morning, she sat perched on the marble countertop as Ye Lin stood before her, his hands braced on either side of her waist.
His voice unintentionally grew hoarse. “What are you touching?”
Only then did she snap back to reality. “I got distracted—sorry.”
“...”
Soon, Yan Man leaned closer to inspect his chin, unconsciously wrapping her legs around his waist for a better angle to help him shave.
As she neared the back, she suddenly felt something and couldn’t help but pause. “...Don’t push forward.”
“...”
Once the shaving was done, the countertop was a mess.
Yan Man regretted playing around earlier.
Fortunately, they didn’t waste too much time. When they arrived at the set, filming hadn’t started yet.
Everyone was gathered together, discussing their plans after wrapping up the drama.
Yan Man: “Isn’t there still a few months left before we finish filming?”
“Yes, but everyone’s schedules are planned ahead of time—those few months will pass quickly,” Xu Wenjing asked her. “What are you planning to do after finishing, Manman?”
“I’ll take some acting classes,” she said. “I’ve been filming so much that I can’t keep outputting without inputting. Otherwise, my energy won’t last.”
Xu Wenjing nodded approvingly. “Your idea is quite good. You don’t have that anxious vibe like some others. Many artists, when they’re at the peak of their popularity, try to take on as many projects as possible to make money before their fame fades and their pay decreases.”
Yan Man said, “I’d rather focus on the long term.”
Xu Wenjing asked, “And after the classes?”
“After finishing the classes, if this drama performs well when it airs,” Yan Man replied, “I want to try performing in a play.”
She suddenly remembered something. “Teacher, didn’t you perform in plays before?”
“Yes,” Xu Wenjing nodded. “I actually have another play coming up soon. If you’re interested, I can bring you along and introduce you.”
Unable to contain her excitement, she said, “That would be wonderful! Then I’ll trouble you with that—please contact me if there’s a suitable role.”
“Don’t worry,” Xu Wenjing chuckled. “If I promise you, I won’t forget.”
After making plans with Teacher Xu Wenjing and finishing a day of filming, Yan Man returned home.
Ye Lin had just gotten back as well, changing into a coat. He said, “Why are you back so early? I was planning to pick you up.”
“It just happened that filming ended earlier today,” she said without much thought, then added impulsively, “You must be tired after a whole day’s work, right? Go rest—I’ll go take a shower.”
“...”
Ye Lin stood still for a moment, his hand paused midway through taking off his coat.
What had he done to make him seem so exhausted?
The man’s voice grew low. “Do you really think I have so little stamina?”
Unfortunately, Yan Man didn’t hear him. She pulled the door lock and disappeared into the bathroom to shower.
When she came out, Ye Lin had already finished his shower and was sitting in the bedroom, reading something.
Curious as always, Yan Man leaned over to take a look.
At first, the house had been cold because no one lived there, but now the temperature had gradually risen. Today, he had even turned on the air conditioning, and the warmth was sufficient, so she wore only a camisole.
Yan Man bent forward, her hair sliding down from her shoulders.
Unaware of anything amiss, she asked, “A script?”
“Mm.”
“What type?”
“Espionage.”
She asked curiously, “Are you going to take it?”
“No,” he said softly. “The writing is mediocre.”
Yan Man hummed in understanding and continued, “So you’ve really decided to retire? No more acting?”
Ye Lin looked at her for a while, then asked the same question again. “Do you want me to stay?”
“…”
“I don’t know,” she shook her head. “I respect your decision.”
Yan Man seemed lost in thought, as if recalling something. “But if… we could attend award ceremonies together in the future, that would be nice, right?”
As soon as she finished speaking, she inadvertently raised her eyes and met his gaze.
The man was wearing a button-up sleep shirt tonight, a deep blue color reminiscent of turbulent ocean waves.
His gaze mirrored the same intensity.
Yan Man had a vague premonition, but instead of addressing it directly, he asked, “Why didn’t you dry your hair?”
The bedroom fell silent.
The water dripping from her hair hit the script paper, producing a rhythmic tap-tap sound.
Just as she was about to speak, he had already stood up, retrieved a spare hairdryer from the cabinet, and hoarsely said, “Let me help you.”
Though he claimed to be drying her hair, his actions were incredibly invasive. His fingers threaded through her hair, and the hot air from the hairdryer sent her body temperature rising.
Meanwhile, his fingertips slowly pressed against her scalp.
She was lifted onto the table, and as he continued drying her hair, she kept retreating until her back nearly touched the wall. Just as she was about to say something, he cupped her head and kissed her deeply.
His lips and tongue were scorching, prying open her teeth and drawing her tongue into his mouth to suckle. Gradually, she felt herself struggling for breath, her fingers bracing against the table as her body arched backward. His tongue traced along her neck.
Somehow, her fingers brushed against something.
A soft thud sounded.
Yan Man turned her head dazedly to see a glass of water beside her.
Ye Lin paused his actions and picked up the glass, the water inside swaying slightly.
He asked softly, “Thirsty?”
She took the glass instinctively, not fully understanding his intentions. “...To replenish fluids?”
He chuckled. “No.”
“I’ll tell you later.”
How long was “later” supposed to be?
Her gaze flickered as she lowered her eyes to drink the water. Anticipating what might happen next, she found herself unusually dizzy and lightheaded, her heart pounding like it had a pacemaker, refusing to settle.
Ye Lin pressed a button, and the curtains automatically closed.
She placed the glass aside.
It was just plain water, slightly sweet, but for some reason, the more she drank, the thirstier she felt. Clearing her throat, she said, “You...”
“Hmm?”
She had originally intended to ask if he had prepared himself, but when the words almost left her lips, she found them amusing. Instead, she pursed her lips, shook her head, and said, “Never mind.”
He smiled and leaned closer, this time slowing the pace. Pressing his lips to hers, he whispered, “Are you nervous?”
Between kisses, she struggled to breathe and reluctantly replied, “It’s... it’s fine.”
He seemed to trace her glistening lips, his gaze shifting somewhere else, and chuckled. “Your heartbeat is racing.”
“...”
What was he doing, flirting with her at a time like this?
She wasn’t willing to let herself be at a disadvantage. While enduring his relentless kisses, her mind raced with thoughts. When his lips finally moved to her earlobe, she seized the fleeting chance to speak.
“Teacher Ye.”
Calling him “teacher” at this moment surely couldn’t mean anything good.
His breathing was heavy, but he genuinely stopped, his voice rough like gravel. “Hmm?”
“You... before, weren’t you a firm believer in...” Her breathing quickened. “...abstaining from premarital sex?”
—A conservative gentleman, perhaps?
She didn’t finish the last five words, but she assumed Ye Lin understood.
“...”
He paused for a long while before answering honestly. “Mm.”
...
......
She couldn’t help but laugh a little, pretending to push him away. “Then what are you doing now? Get off.”
“Don’t push,” his scorching breath brushed against her neck. “I’ve held back for too long.”
He said, “Besides, when it comes to you, I always make exceptions.”
This sentence softened her heart, and her fingertips gradually weakened, reaching out to grip his wrist.
But she felt something small and scar-like. Yan Man froze, asking, “What’s this?”
Ye Lin murmured, “Want to find out?”
He grasped her wrist and placed it on the button of his collar, whispering,
“...Help me take it off.”
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