Feng Zheng sighed helplessly. Su Yicen was truly blatantly double-standard. The moment he met Song Chan, his usual aloof and cold demeanor vanished completely, replaced by a gentle, considerate, all-around perfect good man.
Although Song Chan was somewhat indifferent toward him, he remained utterly infatuated with her.
Fortunately, people didn’t grow tails. Otherwise, Su Yicen’s tail would have wagged all the way to outer space whenever he faced Song Chan.
But what could Feng Zheng do? Su Yicen had just called him “Feng-ge.”
Five years. Feng Zheng had known him for five years, and this was the first time he heard him call him “bro.”
Just for that one “bro,” he had to handle this matter perfectly.
After leaving Hermitage Splendor Residence, Feng Zheng headed straight back to Chichuang Entertainment.
Chichuang was currently the largest entertainment company in the country. It had countless famous actors and singers under its banner. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say half the Entertainment Circle answered to Chichuang.
Su Yicen was an artist under Chichuang Entertainment and also one of the company’s major shareholders—though the outside world didn’t know about that identity.
Thus, it wasn’t Chichuang that chose Su Yicen, but Su Yicen who chose Chichuang.
The moment Feng Zheng returned to the company, the PR department came looking for him.
Although the company had launched emergency PR the moment last night’s response hit the hot searches, the #Chanyi Mianmian# BE topic was burning too hot, perfectly timed for the weekend’s peak traffic.
Even with the PR department pulling an all-nighter, they couldn’t suppress that one hot search. Its heat kept climbing.
After fans camped out all night for nothing more than an official “verifying the situation” response, the infighting on the hot searches exploded.
Su Yicen and Song Chan’s fans clashed fiercely, nearly spiraling out of control. Drama-stirring marketing accounts fanned the flames nonstop, turning it into a vicious cycle.
But none of that was the real problem. What worried Feng Zheng most was the impact on Su Yicen’s commercial value.
Already, some bad-faith actors were twisting yesterday’s response into him deliberately smearing women. Public opinion kept fermenting, and the situation was unfavorable for them.
Several brands Su Yicen endorsed had reached out for updates. One wrong move, and the fallout could be irreversible.
Feng Zheng’s earlier bravado faded away. He felt a twinge of guilt, unable to predict how public opinion would shift after the statement.
Shaking his head helplessly, he followed Su Yicen’s instructions and posted a statement from the studio account.
【The two teachers share an ordinary work collaboration relationship, and the project is progressing smoothly. As for any private conflicts, we have no way of knowing. We hope the two teachers can get along amicably. Like everyone else, we look forward to more and better collaborations from them.】
【Finally, we hope everyone views this matter with friendly eyes.】
Since they wanted the public to think the two looked down on each other and had personally torn apart the CP, Feng Zheng leaned into it with a cooperation-focused response.
As for their actual private relationship—who cared? Privacy was privacy. No response was fine too. Let the fans sort it out themselves.
The statement shifted Weibo’s public opinion at last. Most rational fans got it: last night’s response was the two parties drawing a clear line. Only a few diehards hadn’t caught on.
Chan Cen’s body ya: 【Don’t get it, so… #Chanyi Mianmian# really BE’d? (big cry)】
I’m Cat Cat Cat ah: 【Studio statement’s subtle but blunt. “Cooperation relationship” means not even friends. “Private conflicts unknown” means bad blood, mutual disdain. “Friendly eyes” means quit fighting and buzz off.】
Chan Yi Mian Mian 99: 【Won’t hear it, won’t believe it. Chanyi Mianmian is my eternal white moonlight!】
Outwardly, the Song Chan-Su Yicen CP-tear incident had reached a temporary close. But they still hadn’t explained things to family and friends.
Song Chan sat on the sofa, replying to messages from her colleague Qian Ya.
She wasn’t some big star who could dodge the gossip. She had a job and couldn’t ignore her company’s reputation.
Qian Ya was easy enough to handle. The past couple days, Zhou Chiyu’s fans had been brawling with Su Yicen’s. Song Chan name-dropped them again, tossed in a few lines, and Qian Ya suddenly got it—naturally assuming her response made perfect sense.
Once the colleague was sorted, Zhou Qining’s message popped up. No interrogation, just a few simple words.
Zhou Qining: 【Chanchan, send me your location.】
Her head a mess from the drama, Song Chan fired it off without thinking.
The instant it sent, she realized: Zhou Qining was coming over, wasn’t she?!
Sure enough, before Song Chan could ask, Zhou Qining confirmed it.
Zhou Qining: 【Wait there. Be right over.】
Song Chan sighed. She knew Zhou Qining would always charge to the front lines for prime gossip. No way she’d miss the main melon.
Perfect timing too—her frustrations needed venting, and company sounded good.
Song Chan: 【Tell me when you’re here. I’ll call security to escort you in.】
Her message notifications wouldn’t stop. Annoyed enough to chuck her phone.
The phone rang again. This was Xu Wan’s 38th call. Song Chan still didn’t dare answer.
The bathroom water finally shut off. Song Chan hurried over, only to catch Su Yicen shirtless. Unprepared, the sight slammed into her eyes. She whipped around to face the wall.
Su Yicen opened the door and paused at the sight of her. But soon his lips curved up. His dark eyes gleamed under thick brows as he teased her.
“Daytime already, and Miss Song can’t wait?”
“Blocking the bathroom door on purpose?”
“You!…” She almost snapped back, but Song Chan bit her tongue. Not the time for banter.
She cut straight to it. “Everything else is explainable. But my parents? Grandpa Su?”
Su Yicen toweled his wet hair, strolling toward the bedroom. As he passed, steamy air laced with faint shower gel scent washed over her.
He drawled calmly, “Easy fix. I’ll handle it.”
Song Chan exhaled in relief—but then remembered Lady Xu wasn’t one to fool. She started to warn him.
Su Yicen untied his bathrobe right in front of her.
Cheeks flaming, Song Chan squeezed her eyes shut. Her shy look was kinda cute.
His chuckle made already-frazzled Song Chan raise her voice, eyes still clamped shut.
“My mom’s not easy to fool. If she sees through it, I’m toast.”
Her words sank like a stone in the ocean—no reply.
Long silence stretched. Felt like he’d vanished. Dazed, Song Chan cracked her eyes—only for a large hand to gently pet her head. Petting pressure soft, voice coaxing.
“Relax. Won’t let you be toast.”
“Open up.”
His gentle tone and careful touch still jolted her into a shiver.
Su Yicen’s deep voice brimmed with security, like a spell. He spoke; her eyes obeyed.
Song Chan kept her head down, lids fluttering open. He stood close—too close.
She confirmed his black suit pants were properly on before her gaze drifted up.
Su Yicen’s long fingers deftly buttoned his collar one-handed. His shirt hem swayed, flashing glimpses of chiseled abs.
Song Chan licked her lips, looked away, and swallowed discreetly.
He stepped closer, voice warm and drawn-out. “Chanchan, craving it?”
Su Yicen loomed tall. She had to tilt her chin to meet his rippling gaze. Her retort died unspoken.
Truth was, she had no comeback. Couldn’t explain her peeking.
Her flustered pout only charmed him more. Lashes quivering, eyes alight with amusement, he kept poking. “Didn’t you say you craved my body…”
“Backing out now?”
Nose wrinkling, Song Chan said firmly, “Quit messing around. I’m serious.”
He finished buttoning his suit, smoothed the hem, all proper in formal wear. He looked down, promising, “So stay home and wait. I’ll go explain to Uncle and Auntie myself.”
“No worries. I’ll fix it.”
His gentle words flowed like warmth over her heart. That reliable security anchored her unease.
Su Yicen had left. Song Chan slumped on the sofa, pulse still racing.
Zhou Qining’s voice message finally yanked her back: she’d reached Hermitage Splendor Residence’s gate.
Song Chan patted her cheeks, reminding herself to snap out of it. Her marriage to Su Yicen was pure facade. She wouldn’t be the first to fall.
Leaning on the doorframe, she spotted Zhou Qining from afar.
She waved; Zhou Qining waved back.
An excited squeal echoed through the villa district as they bolted toward each other.
Childhood besties, once so close they seemed glued together. But school and work pulled them apart.
WeChat kept them chatting, but meetups dwindled. Come to think, half a year since they’d last seen each other.
They hugged tight forever, stared forever, squealed joy, chorused “missed you tons,” words tumbling out.
Zhou Qining hooked Song Chan’s arm. Her sly eyes locked on the swollen red lips, smile crinkling her eyes prettily. “Show me your place with Top Idol.”
Then, meaningfully: “Got some questions for you.”
Song Chan felt guilty on instinct. No need to ask—she knew it tied to last night’s hot search.
But she never saw this coming. They barely shut the door behind them when Zhou Qining said:
“Fans battled hard on last night’s hot search. Looks like you two went even harder.”
Song Chan’s face blazed. Hand flew to her lips. Clothes hid the marks—but she’d forgotten her mouth.
Zhou Qining clocked the blush and knew.
“Won’t tease. Top Idol’s wife.” She dragged the tail end. “Show me around already.”
Song Chan tsked, eyes sharpening with mock threat to shut down the ribbing.
Jokes were jokes, but house tours were bestie-visit protocol. Song Chan wouldn’t cheat Zhou Qining.
Hermitage Splendor Residence villas were huge: two stories plus attic above, full basement below. In a place that size, Song Chan stuck to her bedroom and living room mostly.
She gave Zhou Qining the full tour, up and down. Last stop: her bedroom.
Before they reached the door, Zhou Qining zeroed in on the brilliant golden sunflower bouquet at the hall’s end.
“Such pretty sunflowers.” Zhou Qining tweaked a petal. “Don’t remember you liking these?”
“They’re fine.” Gazing at the bouquet, Song Chan explained, “Su Yicen bought them. He always does—knowing they wilt easy, but keeps bringing them home.”
Song Chan truly didn’t get it. Plenty of pretty flowers out there, yet Su Yicen fixated on these finicky ones.
He’d gotten the knack lately, though. His sunflowers now thrived, blooming long and strong.
Zhou Qining’s eyes lit up at the explanation. She grinned and slapped Song Chan’s shoulder.
“Chanchan, you’re dense. Su Yicen’s confessing.”
“You’re on that flower-season feature—surely you know sunflowers mean ‘only you in my eyes’?”
Song Chan’s heart jolted. Lashes fluttered. She hadn’t known the flower language—let alone that Su Yicen would.
“No way. He wouldn’t know that stuff.”
Her rattled look cracked Zhou Qining up. “Says the expert on him.”
“Don’t know him.” Song Chan shot back quick—truthfully.
Though lately, she’d started piecing him together. Unwittingly, off-guard, bit by bit getting familiar with Su Yicen.
They laughed it off and talked forever—until night fell deep. Zhou Qining finally left, reluctant.
Su Yicen still wasn’t back. No word. Song Chan’s heart felt oddly hollow.
She wanted to ask him, but her fingertips hovered over the screen, hesitating to press send. In the end, she exited the chat interface.
Thinking back to Zhou Qining’s words from earlier that day, Song Chan opened Baidu and couldn’t resist typing in the words.
【What are the flower meanings of sunflowers?】
A dense array of search result links appeared, so many it made her eyes ache. There were not only various flower languages but also tips on sunflower cultivation.
The top bolded paragraph caught Song Chan’s attention.
＊【Sunflower language: Silent love, loyal heart】
【The sunflower is a flower that represents loyal love: no one else in sight, all around is you. When you are here, you are the sun, and I gaze unwaveringly; when you are gone, I bow my head and see no one.】
Song Chan’s heart felt struck by something, an indescribable feeling lingering in her chest.
Unknowingly, she fell asleep, her finger sliding across the still-lit screen.
A new sunflower flower language popped up on the screen—one Song Chan hadn’t seen yet.
【Silent love, love not yet spoken aloud.】