His voice was neither light nor heavy, the gentle tone urging Song Chan on with a tenderness he had never shown anyone else.
Song Chan looked up and met Su Yicen’s pitch-black eyes. His tall figure blocked everything behind him, leaving only him in her line of sight.
Su Yicen leaned in too close. He lowered his head, his warm breath brushing across her cheek, carrying his unique warmth that soothed her utterly fatigued heart.
A flash of exhaustion passed through her eyes. Though she tried her best to hide it, he still caught it with his sharp senses.
His heart tightened imperceptibly. Su Yicen spoke in a voice only the two of them could hear.
“Who is it? Who made our Chanchan unhappy?”
Called by her baby name, Song Chan’s body trembled involuntarily. This was in front of everyone, with dozens of people watching behind her!
Her heart pounded chaotically. She took a step back, putting some distance between them.
Her suppressed tone gradually rose as Song Chan reminded him.
“Teacher Su, please mind the occasion!”
Her non-answer clearly dissatisfied Su Yicen. He closed the gap she’d created and tried a different approach.
“Then tell me, Teacher Song, who made you unhappy?”
His tone was serious and stern, accompanied by a scrutinizing gaze. Song Chan could see the anger he was holding back. He wasn’t joking.
Her wildly thumping heart tensed from the stares of her colleagues behind her, fearing discovery, yet warmed by the domineering question from the man before her.
She was indeed aggrieved and angry about what Wei Lai had done today, but could she say it? Of course not.
She couldn’t let Su Yicen stand up for her, nor did she want to drag him into this already resolved matter.
She raised her eyes to meet his and answered earnestly.
“Teacher Su, please stay professional. No personal matters during work hours.”
“Alright.” Su Yicen nodded, his black eyes masking their emotion as a faint smile tugged at his lips.
He spoke each word seriously right by her ear.
“Then we’ll talk about it when we get home.”
Their close conversation made the colleagues behind them hold their breath in anxiety.
Photographer Wang Gang had his arms crossed over his chest, one hand rubbing the stubble on his firm chin.
He tsked and nodded in praise. “Editor Song is so professional, discussing shooting angles with the celebrity in such depth…”
Before he finished, Li Yuchuan interrupted him, looking utterly incredulous.
“Brother Wang, you really don’t know about the hot search?”
“I was scared to death watching Chan Sister talk to Top Star Su for so long…”
As he spoke, he clutched his chest, looking utterly terrified.
“What happened?” Wang Gang asked seriously. “I never check hot searches. I do watch the morning news, though.”
Li Yuchuan, fresh out of university, was speechless toward this man over forty. After a moment, he kindly explained the hot search event from a couple days ago that had shocked the entire internet.
Exhausted after recounting the whole story, Li Yuchuan pointed at the two protagonists on the monitor.
“So, Brother Wang, you single-handedly put together this CP that publicly broke up on Weibo.”
“How could you have Chan Sister shoot from a girlfriend’s perspective for Top Star Su?”
Li Yuchuan sighed, full of helplessness.
“I’m telling you, their conversation just now was definitely full of threats. The tension was thick enough to cut.”
“No way it’s that dramatic…” Wang Gang watched the two on the monitor. They weren’t wearing mics, so he had no idea what they were saying. To him, it looked like normal shooting talk.
But when Li Yuchuan’s words got nods from the other colleagues, Wang Gang lost his confidence.
The monitor split the shooting area in half.
As Wang Gang worried his suggestion might ruin everything, the exchange on screen ended, and Su Yicen stepped back into the shooting backdrop.
Everyone’s suspended hearts finally relaxed. Only Feng Zheng, the sole person who knew the truth, chuckled darkly to the side.
Over there.
Su Yicen’s drawn-out words still lingered in her ears like a caress. Song Chan snapped out of her daze at the snap of his fingers.
He took a few steps back into the shooting backdrop and deliberately raised his voice.
“Just like Teacher Song said.”
What did she say? What had she said earlier? Song Chan was utterly confused.
Her hand instinctively raised the camera. Through the lens, Su Yicen mouthed to her.
“Play along with me.”
With no choice, forced into it like a duck onto a shelf, Song Chan braced against the pressure and walked toward Su Yicen.
Song Chan was indeed good at finding angles and photoshopping, but she considered herself at best amateur level. Handling a professional magazine cover shoot was still beyond her.
Following Su Yicen’s steps against the white backdrop, he was the only light in the frame.
Su Yicen stopped by the Roman column prop. He leaned his back against it, one hand in the pocket of his pure white suit, one knee bent against the column’s edge, and turned his head to gaze deeply at Song Chan.
In that instant, her heart’s leap seemed to betray something. Her red lips parted, then her teeth bit her lower lip, the pain snapping her back.
She reminded him, “Teacher Su, look at the lens.”
“Look at the lens?”
Seeing her shy expression, Su Yicen arched an eyebrow. “Isn’t this the girlfriend perspective? If I don’t look at my girlfriend, should I look at the lens?”
Hearing that, it did make sense.
But they were working now! With her face flushing and heart racing like this, how was she supposed to work?
Song Chan glanced back at her colleagues, saw nothing amiss, and her tension eased.
Her tone hardened with a warning edge as she told him.
“Su Yicen, be professional!”
He knew her too well. When she called him by his full name, it meant the joke was over.
Su Yicen stopped teasing her. “Alright, everything as Teacher Song says.”
Su Yicen was much taller than Song Chan—the perfect height difference for a hot couple. Due to their height gap, her close-up face shots were all from a slight upward angle, a proper girlfriend’s view.
With both cooperating actively, the first usable sample shot finally came out.
They changed scenes and continued. Still a pure white backdrop, but this time with champagne-colored sequins added, and the prop switched to a David plaster bust.
With experience from before, they got into the groove quickly this time.
Su Yicen’s refined, angular face was sharply defined. Even sharing the frame with the plaster bust, it didn’t lose out at all.
But no matter how they shot, Song Chan felt something was missing.
She held the camera, reviewing the shots with a troubled frown.
She murmured, “It feels a bit monotonous…”
Su Yicen walked over and asked, “Where does it feel monotonous?”
He stopped beside her. As his hand reached for the camera to check the pictures, their incidental touch sent her heart fluttering.
It was shyness, bashfulness—not disgusted evasion.
Song Chan found it strange. With Su Yicen, she felt no resistance in her heart.
She looked up, her gaze lingering on his lips. Her hand rose uncontrollably, her fingertip poking his lip, smudging the lipstick toward the corner.
The striking broken effect was intensely pure yet seductive, eye-catching enough to dazzle.
Inspiration struck. Song Chan asked her colleagues.
“Do we have body paint in the studio?”
Someone responded immediately. Soon, a box of body paint arrived.
Song Chan took a brush loaded with blue body paint and drew a deep stroke from the plaster bust’s eyes downward—just that one stroke.
That touch of deep blue didn’t overshadow the Pure White Fashion theme but made the entire composition strikingly vivid.
Su Yicen’s noble, cold face against the bust’s icy rigidity; his bean-paste-red lip corner against the deep blue on the bust’s eyes.
The fierce clash created explosive impact. The final shots drew applause from everyone.
Shooting wrapped smoothly. Everyone gathered to review the samples.
Wang Gang praised, “See? I told you Editor Song’s shooting is professional. I’m starting to worry about my job.”
He didn’t forget to compliment Su Yicen. “Teacher Su too—super professional!”
“I think we can discuss with Editor-in-Chief Lin and pick the Pure White Series debut cover straight from these samples.”
Song Chan felt a bit proud at the praise, her smile unconsciously blooming. Turning her head, she found Su Yicen had been watching her the whole time.
She pointed at the computer screen and mouthed a warning. “Look at the samples, not me.”
He mouthed back. “The samples aren’t as good-looking as you.”
Song Chan’s colleagues didn’t know the inside story, but Feng Zheng, witnessing it all, couldn’t take it anymore. He felt like he was being force-fed dog food.
He cleared his throat lightly, interrupting everyone.
“Since shooting’s done, Yicen has another schedule to rush to. We’ll head out first.”
Hearing this, Su Yicen checked his wristwatch. It was already past four. To make the roadshow’s surprise finale, they really couldn’t delay.
He nodded in acknowledgment.
Before reaching the door on his way out, Su Yicen stopped and spoke in a cool tone, glancing pointedly at someone.
“Teacher Song, won’t you see me off?”
Suddenly called out, Song Chan froze in place, her smile fixed as she forgot how to respond.
The room went dead silent. Colleagues held their breath, fearing a fight, all quietly watching.
Seeing Su Yicen calmly waiting at the door, Song Chan finally spoke.
“Of course I’ll see Teacher Su off.”
She bit out the last words emphatically. Each step as she walked past him rang out clearly, overtaking him to lead the way.
Watching their departing backs, while others sighed in relief, the silent CP fan finally spoke up.
“Am I imagining it? Why can’t I see them breaking up?”
“I feel like the screen’s full of pink bubbles instead…”
In the elevator, it was just Su Yicen, Song Chan, and Feng Zheng.
Without outsiders, their polite act ended in unison.
Song Chan took the initiative. “I’ll see you to the company entrance.”
Su Yicen tugged his lips into a smile and turned to her, his gaze as deeply affectionate as in the girlfriend-perspective samples.
“Why go to the trouble? Come with me. It’s on the way home anyway.”
Song Chan smacked her lips. Her peripheral glance at Feng Zheng, who had tactfully looked away, carried a warning glare at Su Yicen.
She hadn’t expected him to be so bold. This was her company, after all, and he just said it outright.
Su Yicen ignored her worried look and openly waited for her answer, head tilted.
Feng Zheng even lightened his breathing. The dog food was overwhelming; he just hoped they’d pretend he wasn’t there.
As she opened her mouth to refuse, the elevator dinged open. Colleagues outside stared eagerly.
Su Yicen quickly added, “What do you think of my suggestion, Teacher Song?”
Caught red-handed, any retreat now would require explanations. Opting to escape while she could, Song Chan plastered on a smile and compromised helplessly.
“Then I’ll trouble you, Teacher Su.”
Su Yicen returned a flawless smile, smug.
“No trouble at all. I’m happy to.”