◎How come your ears are all red?◎
Measure with your hand?…
She replayed Su Yicen’s earlier words in her mind, and Song Chan’s gaze uncontrollably fell on him as she carefully sized him up.
“How do you measure with your hand?” she murmured to herself.
Su Yicen must have been joking with her, or maybe she had just hallucinated it!
Right! It had to be that!
Song Chan was already thinking about escaping this world, but right then, Fat Uncle clapped his hands in agreement beside her.
“Yeah, just measure with your hand. Why bother looking for a tape measure?”
“The older generation always measured clothes that way, by comparing with their hands.”
Their few words forced Song Chan onto the spot like a duck onto a rack. It looked like she really had no choice but to take this measurement today.
Facing the spectators’ gossipy gazes, the culprit beside her had obvious amusement on his noble and handsome face. He had already stood up on his own, waiting for her to personally take his measurements.
Su Yicen curved up the corners of his mouth. “Then, I’ll have to trouble Teacher Song.”
Seeing his smug look, Song Chan didn’t stand on ceremony with him. She walked to his side and sarcastically whispered.
“It’s no trouble. You’ve already troubled me plenty.”
With that, she grabbed his arm and pinched it hard through his clothes without leaving a trace.
“Teacher Su, please spread your arms.”
The sharp pain shot through his arm quickly, but Su Yicen could only endure it.
He sucked in a breath of cold air and moved his lips, speaking in a voice only the two of them could hear.
“Teacher Song, don’t settle personal grudges in public.”
Song Chan smiled brightly, a veiled threat in her charming eyes, but her gaze clearly said, ‘You’re dead meat.’
“How is this settling a personal grudge?”
“Wasn’t it Teacher Su who asked for this?”
Since he figured the next couple of days wouldn’t be easy anyway, Su Yicen decided to smash the jar and go all out. He boldly flirted with her right there in public.
“Fine.” Su Yicen generously spread his arms, standing ramrod straight.
“Then I’ll trouble Teacher Song to measure me carefully and thoroughly.”
“With your hand…”
He emphasized those words, the implication obvious.
With the entire crew watching in broad daylight, measuring Su Yicen like this while he openly flirted with her—Song Chan really couldn’t bring herself to do it.
She noticed more and more curious gazes turning their way.
With no other choice, Song Chan had to lift her hand and start measuring from one end of his arm.
The moment her fingertips touched his skin, her hand jerked back as if electrocuted.
Lacking the courage to touch his body again, Song Chan kept her hand hovering in midair, estimating the measurements from a distance of several centimeters away through his clothes.
Her cautious attempt to avoid suspicion was amusingly cute.
Su Yicen deliberately teased her. “Teacher Song, you’re such a joker. Your hand didn’t even brush the fabric of my clothes—what exactly are you measuring?”
Song Chan’s charming eyes narrowed, her brows furrowing slightly to express her attitude.
The guy who had already smashed the jar pretended not to notice. Since he couldn’t escape a groveling apology tonight anyway, he decided to keep courting death.
“I’d think with Teacher Song’s skills, you wouldn’t be unprofessional…”
“Or is it because you can’t bear to let this chance to observe me up close slip away, so you’re deliberately going slow…?”
He dragged out the end of his words and boldly hypothesized, “Just to have more contact with me?”
Song Chan lowered her voice and shot back, “You’re such a dog!”
But that was all she could do—whisper a retort. It wasn’t like she could beat him up in front of everyone.
The guy smugly lifted his chin, his face full of that cheap, triumphant look after successfully provoking her.
Song Chan held back her anger and kept a straight face. “My bad for being unprofessional. Sorry.”
She gripped his wrist and pulled it in front of her to block the others’ view.
The nails of her freshly manicured fingers mercilessly pinched the soft flesh at the base of his thumb, lifting a small piece before twisting hard.
Su Yicen, who had been smug just a moment ago, had his smile freeze on his face in an instant.
Pain made the corners of his mouth twitch uncontrollably. He struggled to keep his expression normal so no one would notice anything off.
Su Yicen kept his lips still and his face unchanged, squeezing the words out through gritted teeth with a slight tremble.
He said lightly, “Chanchan always does this. Whenever she can’t talk back, she likes to pinch me…”
Song Chan suppressed her temper and shut him down with a single question that clipped his strutting feathers.
“Su Yicen, are you saying you want to settle down in Paris?”
Their covert, flirtatious back-and-forth looked like this to Fat Uncle, who was watching.
As someone who had been there, he rubbed his chin on the emerging stubble and observed for a while.
He concluded, “I see two possibilities for these two.”
“Either they’re a couple, or they’re sworn enemies grinding against each other.”
He nudged Director Chen beside him with his sturdy arm. “Old Chen, take a look. What do you think?”
Smacking his lips, Fat Uncle felt more and more like something was up the longer he watched.
“Turns out Old Li was right to warn us earlier. Who flirts like that? So blatant, just like an old married couple…”
“Those two are married?”
Director Chen hadn’t even paid attention to them. He looked like someone who had just gotten halfway through the village gossip when the internet finally connected—utterly incredulous.
Fat Uncle sighed and explained, “Possible? I was just using it as an example.”
He lowered his voice and leaned toward Director Chen. “Su Yicen is the young master of Su Corporation. He’s basically my boss at the end of the day.”
“If he really got married, wouldn’t I know about it?”
As he spoke, Fat Uncle noticed some cast and crew members at nearby tables even pulling out their phones to sneak photos of the two.
He suddenly realized and reminded, “Old Chen, keep an eye on the crew. Don’t let group matters leak out.”
“If any nonsense gets spread and pisses off that old man upstairs, neither of us will be able to hang around in Hangbei.”
After the verbal threat, Su Yicen behaved himself a bit more.
Song Chan squatted down and gestured from bottom to top on his body, measuring the required sizes.
Even if her hand was careful, it still inevitably brushed against his body now and then. She slowly stood up, and as she raised her eyes, their gazes met.
In that instant, the fingertip Song Chan had placed on Su Yicen’s waist and abdomen paused. Their locked gazes stalled uncontrollably for half a moment.
The soft flesh over his firm abs tingled from that light, unintentional touch—not forceful, but it hit Su Yicen right in the heart.
It made his heart itch, drawing a muffled grunt from him.
Su Yicen pulled up Song Chan, who was half-bent at the waist. His hand movement was covert, but the affection in his downcast eyes was blatant—visible only to her in their shared gaze.
Right in front of the entire crew, he boldly wrote all his deeply hidden love in his eyes and showed it to her without reservation.
As he held her hand, his fingertip casually brushed over her palm before secretly lingering to rub.
Who would have thought Su Yicen would be this bold, openly flirting with her under everyone’s gaze? When Song Chan felt the tickle in her palm, she clearly panicked.
Her heartbeat sped up uncontrollably, and the first thing to turn red—before even her face—was her earlobes, flushed through.
Su Yicen drawled slowly, but every syllable carried a mesmerizing allure.
“Teacher Song, if you’re going to measure, measure properly…”
“How come your ears are all red?”
His approaching body brought his voice and the scent of his cologne closer and closer.
Just as he was about to cross the line of normal social distance, Song Chan stepped back, widening the gap between them.
“I… I’m done measuring…”
In her panic, her words came out a bit slurred.
She hurriedly jotted down a few numbers on the design sketch. Just as Song Chan was about to sit down, she suddenly remembered she seemed to have forgotten something.
Before she could recall, Director Chen spoke up.
“Little Teacher Song, you forgot one. You haven’t measured Chiyu’s costume size yet.”
It was the sweltering vacation season in Paris, but the moment those words landed, Song Chan felt the temperature drop sharply beside her.
She turned her head and, sure enough, the source was Su Yicen right next to her.
Moments ago, Mr. Top Star had worn an irrepressible smile, but now he clearly couldn’t smile anymore.
His icy face set, as if the whole world displeased him.
For a moment, it seemed Su Yicen finally understood what it meant to lift a rock only to drop it on his own foot—what it meant to dig a pit and bury himself.
Gone was his earlier generosity. Su Yicen spoke up proactively, his double standards obvious.
“Actually, I don’t think we have to measure with hands.”
No one responded much to his words. He cleared his throat lightly and named someone.
“You think so too, right, Feng Zheng?”
Feng Zheng, who had been chatting with the assistant director, suddenly heard his name called and was a bit dazed.
He hurried to Su Yicen’s side and whispered back.
“No, calling me won’t help.”
“This is Paris—where am I supposed to conjure a tape measure from?”
A scene where Su Yicen was out of moves was rare. Song Chan stood quietly beside him, wondering what mischief he’d pull next.
“Little Teacher Song?” the director reminded her again.
Song Chan glanced at the guy—his mood was clearly sour—but dawdling here wasn’t an option.
She agreed, partly to punish him.
“Teacher Zhou, please stand up. I’ll roughly measure your costume size…”
Zhou Chiyu agreed readily. As he stood, the staff member who had gone looking for a tape measure happened to return.
She held a ball of yarn and asked, “No tape measure, but will yarn work?”
“Sure!”
Song Chan agreed decisively. It was better than hands-on, anyway.
It was more acceptable for both her and the guy who had dug his own pit.
Song Chan took the yarn and called over the young woman to help her stretch it out as they measured Zhou Chiyu’s costume size.
Their covert rivalry scared Feng Zheng half to death—he was the only one who knew the inside story.
Feng Zheng thought this solution was decent, but when he turned and saw Su Yicen’s cold face and darkened expression, which hadn’t eased much.
He poked his arm. “What’s with you? Teacher Song is just being helpful—this was your idea…”
“Shut up…” Su Yicen was in a foul mood.
He walked over and supervised the whole time with a dark face.
“Teacher Zhou really considers the crew at every turn…”
The moment Su Yicen opened his mouth, Song Chan knew his passive-aggressive tone wouldn’t lead to anything good.
And sure enough, it proved right away.
As Song Chan finished measuring the arm span and cut the yarn, he tossed out lightly.
“So short? Making clothes for Teacher Zhou must save a lot on fabric…”
The moment he said that, the young woman helping Song Chan couldn’t hold back a light laugh.
Everyone present could hear what Top Idol meant—he was implying that the other top star, slightly less popular than him, was also shorter.
Zhou Chiyu ignored him, straightened his clothes, shot him a glance, and cooperated by turning around for Song Chan.
Under Su Yicen’s supervision, Song Chan handled it like routine work, teaming up with the young woman to complete Zhou Chiyu’s measurements.
With the last piece of yarn cut, Song Chan stood from her squat. Zhou Chiyu reached out to help her up. She hadn’t planned to take his hand, but he steadied her wrist.
Song Chan could only say thanks. “Thanks, Teacher Zhou.”
“You’re welcome.” Zhou Chiyu smiled. The small talk wasn’t over. “Thanks for the trouble, Teacher Song…”
Under that guy’s dark-faced stare, every polite exchange with Zhou Chiyu made Song Chan’s heart skip.
She could clearly see Su Yicen was jealous, so she wisely shut her mouth to end the topic. But he had already approached.
The moment his hand landed on her wrist, she knew things had spiraled out of control.
Even with some mental preparation, when Su Yicen grabbed her wrist and pulled her away in front of everyone, Song Chan’s heart still thudded.
His dark eyes fixed on her, his cold tone laced with accusation.
“Song Chan, you seemed pretty happy measuring him?”