◎I Won’t Let Her Escape◎
As soon as the car drove out of the underground garage, it was surrounded by fans outside.
Countless flashes lit up one after another. Even the best light-blocking window tint couldn’t stop those glaring lights.
Under the security guards’ protection, Su Yicen’s car finally moved slowly and drove away from the crowd.
Su Yicen leaned back in his seat with his eyes closed, resting. He had long grown accustomed to such scenes and no longer paid them any mind.
Up front, Feng Zheng chuckled as he held his phone, opened their chat interface, tapped on that “deleted” photo, admired his handiwork for a moment, and couldn’t resist teasing.
“Didn’t you say you deleted it? Why’d you send it to yourself?”
Su Yicen kept his eyes closed, utterly calm. “The one on your phone isn’t deleted.”
Feng Zheng ignored his bad temper, zoomed in on the photo, and couldn’t help but praise it.
“I have to say, Teacher Song really is stunning. With looks like that, if she took up acting, half the female stars in the Entertainment Circle would go hungry…”
Before he finished speaking, Feng Zheng felt a chill rise behind him. He turned his head and met Su Yicen’s gaze, which carried an unspoken authority without any anger.
Feng Zheng tsked lightly and turned off his phone screen. “How do you have two faces like that? Can’t you smile at me too?”
“I’ve known you for so many years, and I thought you were born emotionally cold and never smiled. But then you run into Teacher Song, and that smile never left your face.”
Feng Zheng nodded and pointed at him for emphasis. “You, my friend, are truly deeply smitten.”
Su Yicen sat up straight, then leaned back against the seat again and asked him, “Is it that obvious?”
“Obvious?” Feng Zheng leaned forward, drawing out his words for emphasis. “Your eyes were practically glued to her.”
“The moment you saw Teacher Song, you turned into a Flower Peacock about to spread its tail.”
Su Yicen turned his head to the car window and watched the street scenes speeding by. He couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Then I’ll strike while the iron is hot.”
Feng Zheng turned away and shook his head. He never expected that his young and accomplished Film Emperor had a bit of a lovestruck side.
“Just don’t scare her off.”
“I won’t.” For some reason, Su Yicen lost his confidence. The hands resting together clenched tightly.
“I won’t let her escape.”
Meanwhile,
In the elevator, Song Chan suddenly realized what Su Yicen had meant earlier. Her face burned hot.
She lightly patted her cheeks to sober herself up. In her mind, she began to calculate—maybe she should move out for a while.
No, no!
The thought had just emerged when she decisively shot it down.
If both sets of parents found out, and she and Su Yicen didn’t get their stories straight, the secret of their agreement to a hidden marriage would be exposed. Then she would truly be doomed.
Her hand in her pocket touched something soft and limp. Song Chan pulled it out and saw it was that eyeglass cloth with Su Yicen’s signature.
The three characters “Su Yicen” were written stroke by stroke with utmost care.
Her hand holding the eyeglass cloth unconsciously tightened. As a mature editor with plenty of social experience, Song Chan knew full well that idols’ signatures were usually artistic cursive script, not this kind of deliberate stroke-by-stroke writing.
Signatures like this were extremely easy for ill-intentioned people to exploit, especially for an artist like Su Yicen who came from a family with business interests. He had to be extra cautious.
Su Yicen was always prudent. How could he make such a rookie mistake?
Song Chan still remembered the flourish of his signature for the host—dragonfly strokes and phoenix dances.
Was it because the eyeglass cloth was too soft and inconvenient for writing?
Though uncertain in her heart, that seemed to be the only possibility.
The elevator doors opened, and Song Chan forcibly cleared her chaotic mind.
Before she even entered the office, she heard her colleagues inside discussing the earlier livestream.
Li Yuchuan: “Chan Sister definitely doesn’t like him. It was written all over her face.”
Someone immediately chimed in: “I think so too. Song Chan isn’t interested in Su Yicen at all.”
“Kids these days are so naive. They ship everything they see.”
Qian Ya’s words pushed the gossip frenzy to its peak.
“Forget it if it’s not shippable. Chanchan is Su Yicen’s black fan. She can’t stand him, let alone like him.”
The office’s sole CP shipper couldn’t help but protest: “Little Ya, didn’t you watch the livestream? It was so shippable!”
“Cen Cen held the background board for Chanchan, and when he switched seats with her—it was explosively shippable!”
Qian Ya shook her head helplessly. “It’s all scripted, all routine. You work in this industry—how could you not know?”
Standing outside the door, Song Chan silently listened to her colleagues’ discussion. She could vouch that it really wasn’t scripted, just a genuine accident.
Song Chan really wanted to tell the CP shipper not to ship randomly. Shipping everything would only get her hurt.
The CP shipper felt dejected and let out a pained sigh. She asked Qian Ya, “Do you know some insider info? Why do you say Chanchan is Cen Cen’s black fan?”
Qian Ya touched her little face and told her this harsh truth with earnest concern.
“Your Chanchan told me herself. She’s going to be Su Yicen’s black fan for life.”
The CP shipper refused to give up. “But why would she black him? There’s no reason. Su Yicen is so excellent.”
Qian Ya didn’t know either. She speculated, “Chanchan is probably Zhou Chiyu’s fan. Their fans have never gotten along, so it’s normal for her to black him…”
The discussion veered into increasingly strange territory. Song Chan couldn’t stand listening anymore, so she pushed the door open and went in.
The moment she entered, she became the center of attention in the office.
Questions came at her one after another, but they all revolved around the name “Su Yicen.”
Song Chan held a small-scale press conference of sorts to clarify the relationship between the two of them.
“So, you’re really Zhou Chiyu’s fan?”
Song Chan, who had zero connection to Zhou Chiyu, nodded without admitting or denying it. She borrowed his name to get past this hurdle.
With the main subject there to answer their gossip in person, everyone got their answers and went back to their work once satisfied.
Qian Ya sidled over, lowered her voice coaxingly, and asked, “Chanchan, did you get the signature?”
Song Chan’s body reacted half a beat faster than her brain. Before she realized what was happening, her head had already nodded.
Qian Ya grew a bit excited. “Good Chanchan, hand it over quick.”
Song Chan clutched the eyeglass cloth in her pocket. She thought of how Su Yicen had written his name stroke by stroke, and his serious reminder not to give it to anyone else. She hesitated.
She knew a signature in this font was best not spread around. If problems arose, it would be trouble—especially for someone of Su Yicen’s status.
Song Chan took her hand out of her pocket and opened her palm, which was empty.
“I’ve kept it private as a memento. Next chance I get, I’ll ask for another one for you.”
Qian Ya was a bit dazed. “Aren’t you not a Su Yicen fan? Why keep his signature?”
Though there was no reason, Song Chan declared righteously anyway.
“Black fans are fans too. What if one day I’m down and out, can’t make ends meet? I can flip this signature for cash…”
Before she finished, the door to the chief editor’s office opened. Lin Jinhe walked out, her face cold and expression stern.
“Is this what you do during work hours—discuss gossip? Have you all finished your tasks?”
Though she was a woman, her aura was in no way inferior to a man’s. One sentence subdued every employee in the office.
Lin Jinhe’s gaze swept over them. Seeing everyone quiet down, she said, “Tomorrow there’s a three- or four-day business trip to Hangnan to liaise with the brand contact for next quarter’s plans and check out the situation on the ground. Who’s free to go?”
Hangnan: mountaintop Cloud Sea Immortal Realm / internet-famous check-in spot / renowned tourist city.
Meeting the brand side: work / work / work…
These keywords piled up in such stark contrast. Going to a tourist city but for work—who but a fool would want that?
No one else wanted to go, but Song Chan was wildly tempted. She silently raised her hand and took on the business trip.
“I’ll go.”
She was happy because of the business trip—or more accurately, happy because it meant she wouldn’t have to face Su Yicen for a short while.
The entire workday flew by for Song Chan.
As quitting time approached, Song Chan decided not to go home tonight. She’d stay over at Zhou Qining’s place and head straight to Hangnan from there tomorrow.
But disappearing for several days in a row still required her to give Su Yicen a heads-up, to avoid mismatched stories in front of her mom, Lady Xu.
She opened WeChat on her phone. Her message—”Temporary business trip to Hangnan for a few days. Return date TBD.”—hadn’t even sent when a chat bubble popped up.
Su Yicen: 【Come downstairs. I’m waiting for you in the underground garage.】