In the dimly lit living room, candlelight flickered, casting intertwining shadows on the walls that made the surrounding atmosphere lingering and amorous.
When Su Yicen’s eyes met Song Chan’s, the suppressed heat in his gaze surged darkly, as if he would pounce and devour her in the next second.
His earlier teasing, commanding tone lingered in her ear with its low, drawn-out ending.
Not wanting to provoke him, Song Chan obediently stuck out the tip of her tongue. Feeling that bit of sweetness at the corner of her lips, she lightly licked it, drawing the cream into her mouth.
The cream melted on her tongue—very sweet, but not cloying.
Song Chan’s eyes, seductive as silken threads, fluttered with her long, fine lashes. The more inadvertent her manner, the more alluringly seductive she became.
The man across from her clearly froze for a moment in his pitch-black eyes, the color deepening further. That scorching, boiling surge showed no sign of restraint.
Seeing Su Yicen lean in closer, the constantly shrinking distance made Song Chan’s heart beat faster and faster. She subconsciously raised her hand to push him away.
In her panic, her palm touched his solid chest, and his warm body heat transferred through the contact, turning scorching hot, nearly burning her.
Su Yicen didn’t press closer. He pushed up the glasses on his high nose bridge and tilted his head, raising his brow at her.
The air seemed to stop flowing in that moment. Song Chan sorted out her flustered emotions, her kiss-swollen red lips curving into a flawless smile.
She raised her hand and pointed at the candle that had already burned halfway.
“The candle’s almost burned out, and I haven’t made my wish yet?”
The excuse was a bit forced, but entirely reasonable.
Su Yicen nodded, his eyes lifting slightly as he went along with her.
“I want to make a wish too.”
Those who had watched his birthday livestream now had full confidence.
“Didn’t you already make one?”
Su Yicen leaned closer, closing the distance she’d pulled apart. He looked up at Song Chan, their eyes colliding with her panicked, dodging gaze. There was no teasing in his tone.
“Miss Song, why are you always so dictatorial?”
“Who says you can only make one wish on your birthday?”
She was once again left speechless by Su Yicen. Indeed, no one said you could only make one wish on your birthday.
Song Chan bit her lip and huffed a few vague words through her nose.
“Then go ahead and make yours first.”
“Then I’ll thank Miss Song for her kindness.”
Su Yicen wasn’t polite at all. He closed his eyes, clasped his hands in front of him, and assumed a devout, serious posture that left people stunned.
For some reason—perhaps her subconscious at work—Song Chan’s hand disobediently snuck over to the phone Su Yicen had placed nearby. She snapped a photo of him making his wish.
‘Click—’
The shutter sound rang out, accompanied by the flash automatically activating in the dim light.
Song Chan’s sneaky shot was all too obvious. In her panic, the phone dropped into her lap.
Probably because he was making a wish, it took a moment before the subject opened his eyes.
He asked knowingly.
“Were you sneaking a photo of me?”
Caught red-handed, Song Chan’s expression froze, her embarrassment plain to see.
She picked up the phone and waved it, pretending to be casual. “Recording precious moments. After all, it’s the first time the two of us are spending a birthday together…”
Su Yicen pursed his lips and nodded as if he’d seen right through her.
“Sneaking a photo is sneaking a photo—no need for excuses.”
“But Miss Song, you’d never make it as paparazzi in this lifetime.”
“Who sneaks a shot by flashing it right in someone’s face?”
Taking a deep breath, Song Chan suppressed the fire in her heart. She finally understood why Su Yicen always had that icy, aloof flower on a high mountain look.
With his dogged temper, if he tossed out a couple more flirty lines anywhere, he’d get chased down the street and beaten.
The fact that he hadn’t been punched yet must be because he was so good-looking.
Facing Su Yicen’s handsome face—which she’d grown accustomed to—Song Chan nodded seriously. It had to be just as she thought.
She spaced out staring at Su Yicen for a good while, her thoughts drifting far away.
“Am I that good-looking?”
“That you couldn’t take your eyes off me for so long, Miss Song?”
His snap brought her wandering thoughts back. Her blurry vision gradually cleared, and she realized he had somehow closed the distance again.
Song Chan leaned back a bit and spoke in feigned calm.
“Have you made your wish?”
He nodded. “I have. Now waiting for you.”
“I wished for Grandpa to be healthy, for my fans to be safe and smooth-sailing…”
“And one more…”
He seemed a bit hesitant, his dark eyes on Song Chan unreadable for his emotions.
“One more to say later.”
Hearing him finish his wishes, Song Chan was a bit stunned. Su Yicen’s wishes had nothing to do with himself.
Though Song Chan wasn’t superstitious, she still felt the need to remind him.
“You can’t say your wishes out loud! They won’t come true if you do.”
Su Yicen smiled at her words, asking meaningfully in return.
“If you don’t say your wish, keep it hidden in your heart—who can make it come true for you?”
“I’m ignoring you.”
Blocked again with nothing to say, Song Chan turned away from him, closed her eyes, clasped her hands, and made her wish to the flickering candlelight.
‘I hope the 20th Anniversary Issue releases smoothly.’
‘I hope everyone around me is happy and joyful.’
‘Hope…’
Song Chan hesitated for a long time, unable to think of a third wish, but she stubbornly felt like she’d been shortchanged on her birthday without one.
In her dilemma, she remembered Su Yicen’s earlier wish.
‘Hope… all of Su Yicen’s wishes come true…’
‘Click—’
The flash and shutter sounded without any awkwardness.
Song Chan opened her eyes to see Su Yicen holding her phone beside her, a smile cracking his icy face as he mimicked her earlier action.
“Me too—recording precious moments.”
Song Chan pursed her lips and shot him an exasperated look. Just as she was about to blow out the candle, Su Yicen stopped her.
“Haven’t said my last wish yet.”
Glancing at the thin candle nearly burned out, Song Chan said patiently.
“Go ahead, what is it?”
He said it word by word, his deep tone utterly serious. “I wished that the person I like… likes me back.”
Meeting his black eyes, the meaning in Su Yicen’s words couldn’t have been clearer.
He looked into her eyes, as if searching for an answer there.
Song Chan averted her gaze and repeated her earlier line. “Wishes said out loud won’t come true.”
Recalling that last wish of hers, Song Chan now had an impulse to change it. But when their eyes met, that impulse faded in her heart.
Seeing her troubled look, Su Yicen didn’t press her and asked along with it.
“Miss Song, what did you wish for?”
“Maybe I can make it come true for you.”
He was sincere, and she knew he had the ability.
But Song Chan’s response was a deep breath as she blew out the nearly spent candles.
“I want world peace.”
The candlelight went out. The living room lights weren’t on, and outside, night had long fallen dark. Only moonlight mixed with the neon glow of the bustling city filtered through the windows, bringing some light to the room.
Song Chan reached for the remote on the table to turn on the light, but before her hand touched it, the person beside her grabbed it.
Dazzling light suddenly appeared, so bright it made Song Chan squint.
Su Yicen pulled her body toward him, shining his phone’s flashlight toward the ceiling with his other hand.
In the light, he opened his palm to reveal an exquisite sunflower pendant necklace.
“Birthday gift.”
It was a surprise beyond expectation, and Song Chan forgot to react for a moment.
After growing up, Song Chan no longer cared about birthday rituals. Her only celebration was buying a cake, snapping a photo on her birthday, and calling it a year older.
She’d never imagined Su Yicen would spend it with her, let alone give her a gift.
“Miss Song, why are you spacing out so much today?”
Her scattered thoughts were called back by Su Yicen. Song Chan subconsciously reached out to take it.
“Thanks…”
But as she reached, Su Yicen pulled back his hand holding the necklace.
“I’ll put it on for you.”
His tone brooked no refusal. Without waiting for her answer, he brought his arm to her front.
He brushed aside her hair and personally fastened the sunflower necklace around her neck.
Her pounding heart betrayed Song Chan’s tension.
Before her stood the shining Top Traffic Idol, adored by countless fans, aloof and noble beyond mortal bounds.
Yet whenever he looked at her, his eyes and heart were filled with her, giving her blatant favoritism heedless of others.
Su Yicen’s deep affection would move anyone who saw it.
Song Chan’s heart surged warmly, unable to calm for a long time.
She knew clearly that this warmth came from Su Yicen.
Song Chan thanked him from the bottom of her heart.
“Su Yicen, thank you.”
The atmosphere between them gradually grew ambiguous.
In the perfect mood, Song Chan rarely didn’t want to refuse. Her hand even proactively climbed to Su Yicen’s neck.
The incessantly buzzing phone snapped her sinking mind back to reality. She suddenly remembered she still had something to do.
She pushed away Su Yicen’s approaching body with some force.
“I forgot to do my Weibo fan service post.”
Dropping the line, she clutched her phone and dashed into the room, carefully closing the door behind her, leaving Su Yicen alone and disheveled in front of the cake.
Song Chan lay on the bed and opened Weibo. Sure enough, her name with Su Yicen’s was still hanging high on the hot search.
Sighing helplessly, Song Chan looked at the comments veering further into CP shipping territory. She started to admire this generation of netizens’ wild imaginations.
Facing the three-way fan war, Song Chan wasn’t an entertainment circle star. The wisest choice was to stay out of it entirely.
But Lin Jinhe insisted she post a fan service Weibo, and her fans were begging for birthday fan service too.
Song Chan had no choice but to pick the cake photo she’d just taken and post it.
She struggled with the caption, typing and deleting in the box.
【No fighting, come eat cake.】
Song Chan shook her head. “No, sounds like an elementary teacher telling kids not to fight.”
【Happy birthday, everyone eat cake together.】
She immediately rejected it. “No, doesn’t state my position clearly.”
【Stop messing around, eat cake.】
This one felt good—expressed her reluctance to join the fray with a touch of good-tempered playfulness.
After thinking it over, she added another line.
【Thanks everyone, wish me happy birthday!】
With this, it also thanked the fans. Perfect caption—she posted it.
Fan service for the day done, Song Chan lay on the bed, wanting some quiet rest.
A knock sounded at the door—more notification than question.
Without waiting for her response, the person outside pushed the door open and entered, casually closing it behind him just like she had.
Song Chan, sprawled relaxed and unconcerned with her image on the bed, tensed up instantly and sat straight, eyeing the intruder warily.
Su Yicen announced himself. “Miss Song, emergency aid request.”
He gestured to the laptop balanced on his arm.
“Grandpa’s urging me tight. I have some work to handle, but the signal in my room sucks…”
Song Chan: “……”
What a lame excuse—no way to kick him out without reason.
Still touched from her birthday, Song Chan didn’t want to bicker. She urged him flatly.
“Then hurry up.”
With her indulgence, Su Yicen naturally sat on the other side of her bed.
Back to Su Yicen, Song Chan lay sideways on the bed and picked up her phone to check if her Weibo post had shifted the comments.
But a string of screams that jumped into view nearly made her drop the phone.
Greedy Cen Body Fan: 【AHHHHHH! Chanchan’s responding to Cen Cen!】
Chan Yi Mian Mian 99: 【I told you, Chan Yi Mian Mian has no BE—they’re so shippable.】
Near-Chan Sweetness: 【Everyone knows the dirt in domestic entertainment. The company must be afraid of losing fans and won’t let them go public. Put yourself in their shoes: under company pressure, Chanyi Mianmian had to keep their distance in public, but actually lovingly cohabited and shared a bed…】
Chan Yi Forever Mian Mian: 【Who’s going crazy shipping? Me!!】
Such a Big Cat: 【Aaaah! 99 sisters, the pen’s yours— you write it!】
What! What was all this!
Song Chan, who was cohabiting and sharing a bed with Su Yicen, frowned at the comments. Her heart skipped a beat.
Had someone found out?
Bewildered, she tried to pinpoint what had set off these CP fans’ screaming frenzy.
Until she spotted the real-time hot search: #Suspected Chanyi Mianmian Cohabiting#. Song Chan’s unprepared heart thudded hard, and she froze in place.
Her fingers trembled uncontrollably. She clicked several times before finally entering the topic.
It was that familiar avatar, that familiar rhetoric—spouting outrageous yet eerily realistic claims.
@CP Gathering Place: 【#Chanyi Mianmian# cohabitation nailed it! Female side subtly thanking male side—so sweet, total ship fuel!】
As one of the people involved, Song Chan stared at the absurd post, utterly clueless about what had happened.
How was it nailed?
Had someone infiltrated Hangbei’s top-security Hermitage Splendor Residence and snapped a photo of her and Su Yicen heading out together?
And how had she subtly thanked Su Yicen?
Which mind-reading worm in her stomach had leaked this?
She tapped the attached photo, and suddenly those far-fetched reasons made a twisted sort of sense.
In the photo she’d posted earlier, a cup sat innocently in the background.
And that very cup had appeared in one of Su Yicen’s photos before.
Song Chan drew a deep breath. She had to admire the netizens’ eagle eyes.
The next screenshot was an even bigger surprise.
Song Chan hadn’t even noticed it herself: in her official Weibo post, she’d missed typing the plural “them.”
So it read:
@ZE Fashion Song Chan: 【Everyone stop messing around, eat the cake—thanks you for the birthday wishes.】
That “thanks you” became everyone’s shiny new “gotcha.”
Because Su Yicen had posted that day too—a fan-angle selfie with him, captioned:
@Su Yicen: 【Happy birthday (cake emoji)】
In this comedy of errors from Song Chan’s later post, marketing accounts twisted it into her responding directly to Su Yicen’s “happy birthday.”
And with the matching cups in both photos, they concluded the two had started living together.
No Coder Without Madness: 【If you don’t debunk this, I’m gonna start spreading rumors.】
Chanchan Again Mian Mian: 【So sweet! I live for this sneaky show-off loving.】
Can’t Finish Writing Truly: 【Three years, two hugs—get it? I’ll Venmo 200, bill it to ZE Fashion.】
Spiritual Energy Eruption Lazy Sha: 【Braindead CP fans, snap out of it! One cup worth shipping this hard? I’ve got piles at home—smash ’em for fun.】
Chanchan Again Mian Mian: 【Upstairs sis is rich! Imported crystal cup overseas, 2000+ each—you smashing for sounds?】
Amid countless bickering and CP-shipping comments, Song Chan’s eyes went numb. Fortunately, they had no real evidence—just wild speculation. Most netizens stayed fairly rational.
Song Chan’s suspended heart finally settled. Sleepiness took over.
She turned to the man beside her and saw he showed no sign of leaving.
Song Chan couldn’t help urging him. “Mr. Su, can you hurry it up? I plan to rest.”
“Chanchan in such a rush?”
Su Yicen set his laptop on the bedside table and lay sideways next to Song Chan. He propped himself on one elbow, cheek resting on his palm as he gazed at her.
His eyes burned bright and hot.
Song Chan dodged his stare. Her words came out muddled from nerves.
“I’m sleepy, so of course I’m in a rush.”
Su Yicen’s lips curved faintly. He reached out, tilting up her chin. “Then what were you just looking at? Shipping CPs?”
Her face flushed visibly. Song Chan swatted away the hand on her chin.
The crisp slap shattered the inky darkness, unleashing the most primal desires encoded in their genes.
“You peeked at my phone?”
Her accusation echoed into the void, unanswered.
Su Yicen leaned in, pinning her beneath him. He repeated the question. “Miss Song, were you just shipping our CP?”
“Nothing. I was working.”
Su Yicen drew closer. Song Chan raised a hand to push him away, but he caught her wrist and moved it aside.
Her soft palm grazed his chest. The featherlight touch strung tight the nerves of the man above her. Darkness deepened in his profound eyes.
The arm he’d slipped beneath her tightened, drawing her into his embrace.
Su Yicen wrapped her waist. His hand slid up from under her hem, finding the metal clasp. His fingers moved, and it clicked open with an intangible snap.
One by one, buttons loosened. With the last one giving way, Song Chan’s breathing fell into sudden disarray.
She didn’t resist his nearness. As his fingers trailed her sensitive back skin, a tingling itch spread through her body. Her heart raced uncontrollably.
Su Yicen cradled her neck. His lips pressed roughly against hers, sucking and nipping at her rosy mouth.
The gold-rimmed glasses got in the way. He frowned slightly, paused, and lifted a hand to remove them.
His long, knuckled fingers hovered at the ceiling light switch and pressed it down.
His lips pecked lightly at hers, his voice low and husky. “Miss Song, aren’t you sleepy?”
“Then let’s sleep.”