Embedded Files
Psst! We're moving!
“Didn’t you say you don’t take planes?!”
“Didn’t you say you don’t take planes?!”
By the end of the following year, Thousand Islands in the Evening Breeze officially premiered.
Due to countless revisions of the script, the film’s plot was tightly woven, and its dialogue was worth savoring repeatedly. With overwhelmingly positive word-of-mouth after its preview screenings, it broke through the crowded field of war films and comedies, earning an impressive score of 9.2.
It shattered records for its release period, with countless viewers rewatching it three or four times. Video platforms purchased the rights at a high price, and the film was successfully exported overseas, paving the way for Yan Man to attend the 57th Starlight Awards ceremony.
Sitting in her chair, gazing at the dazzling lights filling the room, Yan Man thought hazily—
Her words from back then truly came true. This awards ceremony was one she and Ye Lin attended together.
However, their nominated films were different. She was recognized for Thousand Islands in the Evening Breeze , while Ye Lin’s nomination came from The Ascent , which he filmed afterward.
This was the most prestigious award in the film industry. Despite Yan Man later experimenting with many new styles and exploring various genres, she couldn’t deny that this film carried her highest hopes and expectations.
Ye Lin winning the award was expected. After all, since his debut, he had always been at the peak. Whenever his name appeared among the nominees, the honor inevitably belonged to him.
From her seat below, Yan Man smiled as she watched him walk onto the stage. She observed how he still gave a slight nod after delivering his acceptance speech, appearing unchanged—except in front of her.
The man’s fingers gripping the trophy were still clearly defined and elegant, his long fingers revealing the prominent bones of his palm, along with the indentation when his thumb pressed down.
When she heard her name mentioned in his speech, Yan Man raised her hand to applaud. The cameraman seemed to understand perfectly, focusing the lens on her at that moment.
She instinctively adjusted her posture.
But the host understood even better, stopping the man just as he was about to leave the stage and saying, “Why don’t you stay and present the next award... Teacher Ye?”
With that statement, laughter erupted throughout the venue. Everyone loved a good spectacle, and celebrities and actors were no exception.
Through the screen, Yan Man saw the row of male actors behind her flashing their teeth so brightly they almost rivaled the camera flashes.
Yet, the host’s words seemed to hint at something more.
It felt like the ocean’s tide reversing, drowning out the sound of her heartbeat. All her focus was on the stage, her mind translating the words coming through the microphone into blurry yet vivid subtitles.
When Ye Lin pronounced the two syllables—”Yan Man”—she had heard her name countless times from his lips, but this time, her earlobes and the nape of her neck tingled with a burning heat.
It was something she had anticipated many times over, but when it finally came true, she still felt dizzy, disbelieving, as if reality itself was spinning before her eyes.
She lifted her skirt and walked onto the stage. He held his Best Actor trophy in one hand and extended the brand-new “Best Actress” award to her with the other.
She accepted it. The trophy was cool against her palm, soothing the burning sensation elsewhere in her body, but her heart still felt as if it were on fire.
She stepped up to the microphone.
Ye Lin bent down to adjust her skirt.
The artists were all high-speed surfers, always eager for such iconic moments. Instantly, cheers erupted once again.
The microphone, which Ye Lin had just used, was positioned a bit high. Yan Man reached out to adjust it, then held the trophy in one hand while slightly lifting her skirt with the other, ready to deliver her acceptance speech.
But before she could start, the microphone stubbornly tilted backward.
Yan Man’s dress was a haute couture piece, its hem adorned with jewels and chains that made it quite heavy. If she didn’t hold it up, it would press down on her shoulders and tug at the neckline, risking exposure.
Just as she was contemplating a solution, Ye Lin promptly stepped forward to steady the microphone for her, softly saying, “There, go ahead.”
And so, he stood beside her, holding the microphone steady while she held up her skirt and delivered her thank-you speech. Amidst the cheers, he escorted her back to her seat.
Host: “Satisfied.”
As soon as Yan Man sat down, a rookie male actor behind her leaned over, rather nosily asking, “Teacher Yan, what’s it like using a top-tier star as a human mic stand?”
Yan Man thought for a moment and replied earnestly, “It’s pretty good. Want to give it a try?”
That actor immediately waved his hands, shaking his head like a rattle drum, as if even the thought was a great sacrilege: “No, no, no, I wouldn’t dare.”
A female actor nearby teased, “Even if you dared, you wouldn’t have the luck!”
After the awards ceremony, Yan Man’s face was still warm. Back in the car, she took a photo of herself holding the trophy, then couldn’t resist taking a close-up of the award itself.
She wiped off the fingerprints on its surface with a tissue and turned to Ye Lin, chatting casually, “You should clear out half of that trophy cabinet of yours for me.”
“Mm, I’ll handle it when we get back,” he paused, then corrected himself, “Our cabinet.”
Yan Man finished posting on Weibo and waited for the comments to refresh. They began pouring in almost instantly.
She glanced at the lively comment section where fans celebrated as if they themselves had won the award.
Yan Man asked him, “Do you want me to take a picture for you too? It’ll make your fans happy.”
He nodded and picked up the trophy he’d set aside.
He had won this award many times, but as far as Yan Man remembered, posing with it after winning was probably a first.
After she took his photo, Yan Man sent it to him, admiring it as she said, “Alright, post it quickly.”
But a few minutes later, when she checked Weibo, she found that he had first posted the photo in the comments under her post, then used his own account to repost his comment from her page.
[Ye Lin: //@Ye Lin: Image Comment [View Image] //@Yan Man: Today’s Report [Image][Image]]
Yan Man was dazed for a moment: “Why did you post it under my comment first?”
He raised an eyebrow: “I just realized I made a mistake.”
Inside the car, the interplay of light and shadow danced across the windows, dividing the scenes into frame-by-frame snapshots.
Drawing on her deep understanding of him, Yan Man stared at him for a long while before turning her head and delivering her verdict: “You did it on purpose.”
The car came to a stop at a red light. The shade of the trees cast soft shadows over him, and a streetlamp hung high above, filtering through the leaves to scatter speckled light on his fingertips.
He lowered his head, but the fleeting smile that brushed past his lips was still caught by the movement of the RV.
He chuckled softly, “You caught me.”
Her boyfriend, of course, could only be indulged.
Yan Man swiped her phone open again and returned to Weibo.
The comments below were originally filled with messages like “Today is Empress Yan Man” and “Looking forward to your next work” and “Baby, you’re amazing.” Now, in his comment thread, everyone sprang into action—
[Public display of affection, huh? Public display of affection, huh?]
[Sometimes I’m really amused by how some men are secretly romantic.]
[Ye Lin, Yan Man’s magnet.]
•
With several prestigious awards under her belt, her commercial endorsements naturally leveled up.
Luxury brands from abroad also extended olive branches. After multiple negotiations by Simon, she successfully unlocked a new territory, becoming the first spokesperson for the brand in the China region.
The brand valued her expressiveness, potential, and extraordinary influence.
The ad shoot was set in Sydney. That day, Zhou Xuan flipped through the schedule booklet and remarked, “If I remember correctly, Xu Zhou is in Sydney, right?”
Yan Man raised an eyebrow, recalling something: “Didn’t you have a crush on him in middle school?”
Zhou Xuan quickly flipped another page, clearly speeding up, muttering:
“… You remember that clearly.”
“Stop pretending,” Yan Man cupped her face, “After all, you liked him before, so it’s normal to still have some lingering feelings now.”
“Anyway, neither of you is married yet. If you have time, why not meet up? I can arrange it, just like organizing a casual gathering. Everyone can chat.”
“Maybe I just liked the fantasy of it—I’m not sure if I like him anymore,” Zhou Xuan said. “Besides, it’s been so long since we last met. Suddenly seeing each other face-to-face might feel awkward.”
Yan Man silently agreed, but she could sense Zhou Xuan’s faint tremor of excitement, so she said, “Alright, let’s see if I finish early enough. If I have time, I’ll arrange it myself, just consider it a casual meetup to catch up.”
Zhou Xuan pinched her ear: “That sounds doable.”
•
On the day Yan Man left for Sydney, Ye Lin was filming a new movie and naturally couldn’t accompany her. However, she reassured him about her work schedule, telling him not to worry.
The entire shoot lasted five days, during which she practically covered half of Sydney, working hard to speed up the process so she could reserve half a day for Zhou Xuan’s secret love mission.
—Unfortunately, she was so dedicated to her work that she only finished all the shots on the last day. But she kept this matter in mind throughout.
She always felt that not arranging a meeting with Xu Zhou would be letting Zhou Xuan down.
In the end, she postponed her flight by a day, contacted Xu Zhou in advance, and even had her makeup artist dress Zhou Xuan up before taking her to the car.
Zhou Xuan kept questioning: “Why are you dressing me up all of a sudden? Are you planning to find me a romantic encounter on the plane?”
Yan Man hummed noncommittally. Halfway through the drive, Zhou Xuan finally realized: “Wait, why didn’t Simon get in the car? This isn’t the way to the airport!”
Yan Man tossed her phone lightly, feeling a bit regretful: “I originally planned to tell you when we got there.”
Zhou Xuan immediately leaned over the back of the seat, astonished: “You really set this up?!”
Then, like a high school student about to go on their first date, she began frantically searching around the car: “Oh no, I didn’t bring any clothes!”
Yan Man had already thought of a solution: “You can borrow mine. I intentionally wore something in your size today.”
“But your clothes are so expensive—”
Halfway through her sentence, Zhou Xuan suddenly realized. Yan Man had deliberately asked the makeup artist to dress her up and reminded her to choose her outfit carefully—all for this moment.
Yan Man continued: “To avoid any awkwardness between the two of you, I specifically picked a ball. The lighting will be dim, and you know what they say—people look better in low light. If things go well, you can dance together. If not, you can just watch others dance—it won’t be too awkward.”
“How’s that? A good plan, right?”
Zhou Xuan looked at her: “Compared to Xu Zhou, I might fall in love with you instead.”
Yan Man thought for a moment and then dissuaded her: “Ye Lin will call the police.”
“...”
•
Fortunately, everything went smoothly afterward.
The two exchanged outfits. Zhou Xuan looked perfect in the long dress, which covered a few minor imperfections.
Soon after, they spotted Xu Zhou, whom they hadn’t seen in a long time, sitting at a table. Although the initial interaction was a bit awkward, as they exchanged pleasantries, the atmosphere warmed up.
Seeing that Zhou Xuan was getting comfortable, Yan Man found an excuse to leave and moved to another table.
From afar, she watched them gradually hit it off and eventually step onto the dance floor. Only then did she finally relax, pulling out her phone to play a round of开心消消乐 (Happy Crush).
At that moment, Simon sent a message: [What are you doing? Is it fun? Mengmeng is so lonely here.]
Yan Man recorded a short video of the scene and sent it to him: [Don’t feel jealous. Right now, only Zhou Xuan is falling in love.]
Remembering something, she added: [If you’re bored, why don’t you go yell at Bi Tan?]
Simon: [?]
Simon: [Good idea.]
Without hesitation, Simon forwarded Yan Man’s messages to Bi Tan—all three of them. His intention was to clarify the timeline so he wouldn’t seem unreasonable—
But across the ocean, Bi Tan nearly jumped out of his skin when he opened the video.
Ye Lin’s hand trembled as he poured water, frowning: “Don’t make a fuss.”
“It’s not that,” Bi Tan handed over his phone. “Look, isn’t that Yan Man dancing with someone in the video?!”
The lighting in the video was chaotic, and Ye Lin was about to dismiss it as unrecognizable. But Bi Tan quickly added: “It’s her! I remember! We’ve been on break from filming these past couple of days. Out of boredom, I asked Simon what they were up to, and he sent me pictures. She’s wearing that exact dress!”
Scrolling through the earlier messages to confirm, Ye Lin placed his teacup down: “Book a flight.”
“Huh?”
“I’m going to Sydney,” the man grabbed his suit from the back of the chair and said briskly, “Right now.”
Bi Tan: “..........................”
Bi Tan: “Didn’t you say you don’t take planes?!”
Too lazy to argue, Ye Lin booked the nearest available flight himself. Before leaving, he gave one last instruction: “Buy me a car in Sydney. I want to see it as soon as I land.”
After a brief moment of silence, Bi Tan looked up to see Ye Lin’s retreating figure—already gone in a flash.
“...”
Wait, didn’t he even ask if this was part of a shoot? Who’s making a fuss here?!
•
Ten hours later, as the plane landed with its familiar buzzing sound, the man stepped off, spotting a Chinese person holding a sign at the arrival gate.
This small task was still within Bi Tan’s capabilities. He arranged for a car and a driver and sent Yan Man’s location to Ye Lin.
The plane arrived early, and the driver wasn’t fully prepared. Not knowing how urgent the situation was, he noticed a nearby mall and slowly pulled over. “Wait a moment; I need to use the restroom.”
When he returned, he saw the handsome passenger sitting in the driver’s seat, handing him a few bills as a tip and saying: “You’re off duty.”
Driver: ?
Not working but still getting paid—and with a tip?
Just as he marveled at such good fortune, the man in the driver’s seat coolly dropped three words: “You drive too slow.”
With that, the engine roared—
The car sped off, disappearing into the distance.
Google Sites
Report abuse