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Psst! We're moving!
This Weibo post was like a bomb, dropped into the calm surface of the night, stirring up ripples of chaos.
At first, no one quite understood what they were seeing.
But once realization dawned, the chaos fanatics went wild.
[What?? What is this??]
[Am I seeing things? Is that… on the bed??]
[Mom, save me! Yan Ye just did it in front of me!]
[Thank you, I’m satisfied too...]
[Bed sheets, pajamas, dim yellow lighting—thank you, I’ve seen enough.]
[The Ye Lin in my heart before: noble, handsome, aloof, and cool.]
[Now: someone who keeps her warm at night.]
[A hand warmer.]
[A bed warmer.]
[Ahhhh Yan Man! Where are you?! Stop sleeping and show me more of your doi videos!]
Yan Man hadn’t fully processed the situation yet. She set her phone down and turned to Ye Lin beside her. “What did you say earlier?”
He closed the book in his hands and asked, “I said, do you still have rehearsals for the play tomorrow?”
“Yes,” she replied. “Each act takes about a month or two to rehearse, which is perfect for me to get used to scene transitions.”
He hummed in acknowledgment, then squeezed her hand again. “I’ll pick you up later tomorrow. I need to go to the company—Bi Tan has something to discuss with me.”
“That’s fine. If you’re busy, I can head back on my own.” Yan Man asked, “What’s the matter? Still about retiring from the industry?”
“Probably,” he said softly. “He mentioned there are a few good scripts and insisted I come in person to review them.”
Yan Man: “So are you still retiring?”
The light cascaded down, softening the atmosphere. He had always been recognized for his cinematic face—regardless of lighting or angle, his profile remained strikingly handsome.
Yan Man looked at him.
He lowered his gaze to her fingers. He had expected the weight of his decision to feel heavy, but as the words left his lips, they felt surprisingly light.
“If something moves me, I won’t retire.”
Yan Man was startled and confirmed, “Really?”
“Really,” he said. “But I won’t take on too many projects afterward. I’ll only choose roles I like—one or two films every couple of years.”
In short, he wouldn’t overwork himself like before. He’d leave time for life—and for her.
She thought this idea wasn’t bad and asked curiously, “Why do you feel like you can stay now?”
But the answer she received was unexpected—
Ye Lin: “Because of you.”
He said, “Lately, I’ve been thinking… When I was alone, retiring was solely my decision. But now that you’re here, I need to consider…”
“Wait,” Yan Man interrupted promptly and said earnestly, “Though I’ve always hoped you’d stay, I’ve never pressured you into anything. I don’t want you to do something you dislike because of me.”
“So no matter what decision you make, I’ll support you.”
She spoke slowly, emphasizing, “You don’t need to sacrifice yourself just to accommodate me.”
“Not a sacrifice,” he said firmly. “Being together is good. We can attend award ceremonies together, and I won’t have to worry about male actors hitting on you.”
This focus seemed slightly off from what she had imagined. After processing it for a moment, Yan Man couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.
Tilting her head, she leaned closer to examine his expression. “Are you afraid I’ll be harassed, or are you worried about your position being threatened?”
“...”
“Both.”
Her shoulders began to shake with suppressed laughter. Propping her chin on her hand, she teased lightly, “You’re so honest.”
Ye Lin gazed at her for a moment, a faint shadow falling at the corner of his eyes, as if sensing some underlying tension. His brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.
He said, “Shouldn’t you tell me what I shouldn’t?”
What shouldn’t? That other male actors didn’t stand a chance?
She thought this internally but deliberately feigned ignorance. “What shouldn’t?”
“...”
The next second, the scene flipped. The man pinned her down, his fingers tracing along the edge and slipping inside.
“What shouldn’t I do? Hmm?”
Her breathing grew erratic. Finally, she pleaded for mercy, “No… that’s not… truly, truly nothing happened—you can check my micro…” The next word caught in her throat, swallowed whole, but her trembling voice carried a deliberate plea, soft and sticky. “I’m sorry, really, I made a mistake…”
His increasingly ragged breaths added a smoky rasp to his response.
He moistened her earlobe with his lips, his hot breath spreading along her skin. “Too late.”
—Too late for pleading, and too late the next morning.
Words brought trouble. As Yan Man tearfully reviewed her actions while leaving, she vowed never to speak carelessly at night again.
After hastily getting into the car, she saw Simon’s expression and suddenly remembered something. With a flash of realization, she exclaimed, “I posted that on Weibo yesterday, right?”
Simon: “...”
“Come on, did I send that message from a black hole? Is there a delay in receiving it?”
She settled into her seat, her thoughts drifting momentarily before she forced herself to refocus.
“No, I was busy last night. When I was about to sleep, I saw it, but I was too tired. I thought I’d deal with it this morning.”
Simon narrowed his eyes, somehow managing to pinpoint the key part of that long-winded sentence.
“Busy? Busy with what?”
Yan Man: “...”
Simon scrutinized her expression, stroking his chin. The earlier look of exasperation on his face was now replaced with a knowing smirk.
He said, “Well, that’s definitely something worth being busy for.”
“...”
Did you learn your quick-change act from Sichuan opera?
Simon: “So when are you two planning to post on Weibo?”
“We haven’t talked about it yet,” she replied. Last night had been so exhausting that she didn’t have the energy to discuss anything else. “After rehearsals, I’ll go back and talk to him about it.”
The car continued driving toward the theater, and Yan Man began her rehearsal for the day.
She adapted quickly. After several rehearsals last week, she was gradually getting into the groove.
During a break, the staff were moving props around and chatting.
“The director’s been so busy lately, yet he still manages to attend every rehearsal. It’s really impressive.”
“Yeah, isn’t Shocking Shadow getting a new adaptation? I heard rumors yesterday about them casting the female lead.”
The play Yan Man was currently rehearsing for was called Tea House at Rest . The director was Wang Hongda. She hadn’t known at first, but after some research, she learned that Wang Hongda was also the director and original author of Shocking Shadow .
Unable to resist, Yan Man asked one of the staff members, “Is Shocking Shadow currently casting the female lead?”
The staff member replied, “Yes, there’s a new version every two years, and it’s about time. The director is searching nationwide for the lead actress. He’s shot multiple versions already and wants to find a fresh, dynamic face.”
Yan Man nodded thoughtfully.
A stage play typically lasted one to two hours, and they rehearsed repeatedly until 6 PM before wrapping up for the day.
It was rare for them to finish early. As Yan Man stepped off the stage, she noticed the director packing up his script and preparing to leave.
The theater felt somewhat empty. Yan Man called out, “Director!”
Wang Hongda slowly turned around, recognizing her after a moment, and smiled. “Oh, Xiao Man, what is it?”
He knew this young woman—she had been brought in by Xu Wenjing. During rehearsals, she was always diligent, as if driven by an inner force. Plus, given how interconnected the arts world was, he vaguely recognized her face as someone who was currently very popular.
After a brief pause, Wang Hongda added, “My wife has been following your drama, City Travelers . I’ve watched a couple of episodes too—it’s quite good.”
She thanked him and cleared her throat nervously before asking, “I heard… you’re currently casting the female lead for Shocking Shadow ?”
“That’s correct,” Wang Hongda chuckled. “Looks like you want to recommend someone?”
“Mm,” Yan Man nodded, clutching her script tightly. “What do you think of me?”
...
...
An hour later, Yan Man walked out of the theater.
Things hadn’t been as difficult as she had imagined. After chatting with the director for over half an hour, she finally secured a spot to audition for Shocking Shadow .
She knew that without City Travelers , she might not have gotten this opportunity. But her acting skills had been recognized, and the director was willing to explore more possibilities with her.
Invisible threads seemed to connect everything. Every step of her effort was laying a solid foundation for her path forward.
For a moment, she felt deeply moved. Instead of getting into the car right away, she took a walk along the asphalt road.
Simon stood quietly beside her, unusually calm as he refreshed her fan count to ensure he could capture the first screenshot of the milestone.
Three minutes later, Simon’s voice suddenly rose in excitement. “Fifty million!”
Yan Man turned her head, blinking. “What fifty million?”
“Fans! Fifty million fans!” Simon gestured dramatically. “Amazing!”
Passersby kept glancing back at them. Yan Man couldn’t help but comment, “You sound like a pyramid scheme recruiter.”
“...”
With two pieces of good news overlapping, she was in a great mood and decided to check her homepage.
Accidentally, she tapped on a splash ad featuring Ye Lin. By the time she exited, the page had automatically redirected to the discovery feed, where a trending Weibo post caught her eye.
[Lots of fans have messaged me asking about Yan Man and Ye Lin... What’s there to say? I waited hours last night, but there wasn’t a peep from Ye Lin’s side. Combined with the blurry paparazzi photos, do you really think they’re in the honeymoon phase?]
[Personally, I lean toward them having been together and then breaking up. Yan Man’s game is strong, which is why Ye Lin even issued a clarifying tweet to protect her. Why did they break up? Obviously, the woman was found to have ulterior motives—or maybe Ye Lin realized halfway through and saw her true colors.]
[But no matter what, it’s definitely fake. If it were real, Ye Lin would’ve made a statement last night. Do you really think it was an accidental slip? They haven’t torn each other apart publicly because they still feel nostalgic. Mark my words—the PR team will make her delete that video soon.]
This person sounded pretty knowledgeable. Yan Man clicked into their profile and noticed they had just posted another tweet.
[Yan Man’s fans and CP stans, stop messaging me. What part of what I said don’t you understand? Why are you arguing with me?]
[If you’re brave enough to stir trouble, why don’t you get Ye Lin to post a tweet for her?]
Yan Man exited the profile, forgetting what she had originally opened her phone to check. Refreshing her own homepage, a new tweet popped up.
One minute ago.
Ye Lin: [Still cold, girlfriend Yan Man?]
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