#78: The Ball (3)

#Ye Lin, Very Capable#

Yan Man narrowed her eyes and peered outside.

People were passing by outside the car, and through a small triangular gap in the front window, she could see the side-view mirror on the right.

The images reflected in the mirror were intense—pedestrians’ silhouettes grew larger as they approached, like an adrenaline rush injecting an irresistible, mind-numbing sensation into her brain. Someone’s clothing even brushed past the mirror, causing slight vibrations.

Her ears buzzed incessantly.

The night gradually darkened, like a flowing black silk cloth, dotted with the soft glow of streetlights that blurred everything into a hazy mist.

—No, perhaps it wasn’t just the light playing tricks on her.

It was him causing the chaos.

Her collarbone was finally freed. He sat up and gazed down at her.

The dim light from behind cast a soft glow on his shoulders, his lips slightly reddened as if stained, pressing against hers and parting her teeth. As Yan Man’s consciousness slowly drifted away, her phone rang again.

This time, it was Zhou Xuan calling.

She wanted to answer, but her wrist went limp, and the phone slipped from her hand, landing on the carpet. His fingers slid over, muffling most of the sound, though faint traces remained, like a distant accompaniment blending with the phone’s vibrations, making the seat beneath her tremble subtly.

She sniffed, unconsciously letting her tone mix with a nasal lilt.

“The flight is delayed…”

He rasped, “Just one hour. It won’t be.”

In the mirror, Yan Man saw the corners of her eyes slowly redden. Outside, children were playing with glow sticks, waving them in flashes. She tried to focus, but her vision swayed uncontrollably, blurring into a haze.

________________________________________

Focusing her vision was proving difficult.

At least, that’s how Yan Man felt two hours later.

From afar, faint guitar strumming drifted in—it was in Chinese.

Ye Lin had already moved beneath her. Too weak to resist, she let him clean her up. Resting her chin against the hollow of his neck, she couldn’t help but bite down gently.

Ye Lin lifted her chin, his thumb grazing her lower lip. His eyes shimmered as if washed in water.

Satisfied after being “fed,” the man was in a good mood, lazily murmuring, “Why are you biting me?”

“You deserve it.”

This man was behaving like a lunatic. Her head had hit the car roof multiple times, yet her pleated skirt remained perfectly intact—her clothes, however, hadn’t been so lucky.

Yan Man reached out, pulling her clothes back up to her shoulders and buttoning them properly.

Ye Lin extended his hand, his fingertips chilled from the air conditioning, brushing against her neck. “Let me help.”

As he buttoned her up, the phone on the carpet rang again.

Yan Man answered, and Zhou Xuan’s voice came through: “I’ve met up with Simon. Where are you?”

Still under the lingering effects of post-coital bliss, Yan Man’s mind was foggy as she muttered a dazed, “Ah.”

Zhou Xuan: “What do you mean ‘ah’? You should have arrived by now! The plane’s about to take off!”

That jolted her awake.

Yan Man quickly smoothed her skirt, opened the car door, and stepped out—

Not forgetting, before doing so, to pull the shawl from her outfit and wrap it twice around her neck like a scarf.

After all, in this foreign land, being recognized wouldn’t be ideal.

Once out of the car, Yan Man felt a bit unsteady on her legs. She used some force to push the car door shut.

With a thud , the door closed. Ye Lin rolled down the window and looked at her. “What’s wrong?”

Yan Man, in a panic, gestured frantically.

“Hurry up and get out! The flight’s going to be delayed!”

The man’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before he murmured, “I rescheduled.”

“Rescheduled?”

“Mm.”

“When?”

“…Midway.”

Only then did she belatedly recall—they had stopped briefly at some point, during which she had lowered her gaze and missed it. So, he had gone to reschedule the flight?

“Besides,” he continued, his voice deep and hoarse, “the plane is almost ready to take off. Even if we drove there now, it’d be too late.”

“…”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Didn’t you say an hour would be enough?”

An hour would have been enough.

He gestured toward her. “Check the time.”

Yan Man had a vague premonition. Spotting the relatively empty streets, she unlocked her phone screen.

The wallpaper clearly displayed the time. After a quick calculation, she found it hard to believe and recalculated.

Great—

They had spent two and a half hours in the car. :)

________________________________________

What Yan Man didn’t realize was that while she was talking to Ye Lin outside the car, something was happening in the nearby live-streamed busking performance.

The ball’s resident singer had finished work around the same time as them and had moved to the park across the street to perform a couple of songs, simultaneously streaming on a domestic platform. Having maintained this habit for nearly half a year, his live stream had attracted quite a few viewers.

Many viewers would send gifts to request songs, and when there weren’t many people, requests could be made for free.

To showcase his ability to sing and play guitar simultaneously, the camera was positioned far enough to capture his full body, naturally revealing the background behind him.

Everyone was listening attentively when suddenly, someone noticed something: [Isn’t that person in the car behind him Yan Man?]

[Probably just a lookalike.]

[Where? I don’t see it.]

[Bottom left, near the black car, but they’ve already turned away now.]

[…]

[That silhouette really does look like her. Could it actually be her?]

[Wait, the car window’s rolling down. Holy crap, is that Ye Lin?]

[Are you guys sure you’re not mistaken?]

[Hold on, let me take a screenshot and check in the super topic.]

The fans in the super topic were quick to react. Within five minutes of the post going up, the comments had already exceeded a hundred.

[Let me bet my ass on it—if it’s not them, I’ll wash my hair upside down.]

[Location: Sydney? Quickly send the live stream room number!]

[The studio released her schedule—Yan Man is indeed in Sydney for a photoshoot.]

[Hahahahahaha, yesterday Bi Tan was complaining on his secondary account, saying someone took a ten-hour flight and ran faster than a car, leaving him alone in the production team to guard an empty room. So Ye Lin really traveled thousands of miles just to chase after his wife?]

[Don’t make me laugh to death.]

[Ye Lin doesn’t take flights, right? I remember reading that in an interview. Did I get it wrong?]

[You didn’t get it wrong, but before Yan Man, he also didn’t do passionate scenes.]

[He didn’t do passionate scenes? Then what is he doing now?]

Soon, a flood of fans poured into the live stream room. Before speaking up, they carefully observed the situation to ensure almost everyone was discussing this topic so they wouldn’t be out of place. Then, with great excitement, they opened their microphones:

[Excuse me, how long has the live stream been going?]

[About two hours ago, the car was already parked here at that time.]

[?]

[??]

[Why are you sending question marks? Aren’t you happy for Ye Lin?]

[Compared to that, shouldn’t we all be curious about what they were doing in the car?]

[Do we even need to ask? What else could a young couple possibly be doing in a car?? Is this even worth analyzing??]

[Hahahahahaha! Love how some people have such clear logic...]

[Yan Man even wore a scarf. Hands and legs both busy, Teacher Ye?]

[The optimal growing temperature for strawberries is 36.8 degrees Celsius.]

[It’s Yan Man’s neck.]

[Two hours… Damn, poor Yan Man (?).]

[#Ye Lin, Very Capable#]

Amidst the exploding live stream, everyone suddenly saw the scene shift—

Perhaps noticing something, Yan Man put away her phone and kicked the car door shut. However, the man leaned out of the window, smiling as he rubbed her bright red earlobe.

[Damn, I’m gonna die from how sweet this is!]

[Yan Man: After all this time, do you even have any shame left?]

[Ye Lin: Sorry.]

[Hardcore shipping in the barrage comments—please, teachers, write a book.]

With no outlet for their wild emotions, everyone went crazy liking the live stream. A massive influx of viewers pushed this usually unnoticed live stream straight to the top trending spot.

Gifts flooded the live stream:

[Thanks, host! Can you play “Marry You” by Jason Chen?]

[Thanks, host! I want to hear “Let’s Get Married.”]

The host happily obliged, turning the entire live stream into a Yan-Ye wedding ceremony, while inwardly and sincerely thanking the two unexpected blessings behind him.

Finally, the car drove off. The CP fans were thoroughly satisfied, high on their shipping fever. As they came back to their senses, they continued to frantically like the live stream to release their overflowing emotions—

The singer happily opened the backend.

Today’s earnings equaled a month’s worth.

After realizing this, he logged into his Weibo and contributed a grateful follow to the super topic.

________________________________________

In the end, the two returned the next day.

The car had been sold—of course, at Yan Man’s strong insistence, the seat was removed and shipped back. The money from the sale was used to set up a charitable foundation under both their names.

Returning from Sydney, Yan Man adjusted to the time difference, re-adapted to the domestic climate, picked a script she liked, and began filming again.

Ye Lin’s filming was also proceeding smoothly.

By summer, her new drama had wrapped up.

On the day of the wrap-up party, she drank a bit of alcohol, making her steps somewhat unsteady. As expected, Ye Lin came to pick her up.

Walking into the neighborhood, she noticed many flowers arranged along the road. Curious, she tiptoed to take a closer look, then realized: “Oh… a proposal.”

In the distance, the atmosphere was lively, with cheers and even people holding phones, recording.

Seeing her slightly drunk, Ye Lin thought this was the perfect moment to ask.

After all, she probably wouldn’t remember anything once she sobered up.

He turned to her and asked: “If you were to be proposed to, would you prefer it to be private or public?”

Her head was spinning, and she answered instinctively: “Either is fine. It doesn’t matter much—it depends on the timing.”

“What timing?”

“Day or night…”

At this point, Ye Lin continued: “Then what time do you like?”

Yan Man looked at him, blinked, and didn’t quite catch on.

The man patiently guided her: “When would you like to be proposed to?”

This question deserved some serious thought.

Yan Man tilted her head up, watching him skillfully swipe open the door lock and bring her inside. Beside the cabinet stood the familiar passenger seat from Sydney—the one that had endured so much.

She felt dizzy, leaning against the table with her head tilted slightly. She replayed his words in her mind a few times, then tiptoed to whisper into his ear, her breath carrying the faint scent of alcohol brushing against his earlobe—

“It depends on how you propose.”