51 ☪ Hot Romance 51
◎Don’t I still have to go home with you and get into your bed?◎
He finished speaking and fell silent, his deep black pupils quietly gazing at her.
Song Chan vaguely remembered that when she had just started junior high, there was a period when she, like girls her age, had fervently liked a boy band.
Her happiest moment each day was going home and searching online for news about them, learning every detail about each member. Even a blurry smile in a low-quality video could make her grin like a fool for a long time, her heart blooming with joy.
Back then, happiness was truly simple. One second, she might be arguing with her classmates over the band members, and the next, they would both turn into fangirls over a single photo.
Her notebooks and book covers had to feature the band’s photos on the front. Every corner of her books was filled with their names, her drawers stuffed with stickers and photo cards. She even copied lyrics and mimicked their catchphrases…
Though Song Chan no longer understood now why she had been so obsessed with those illusory fantasies back then, the her of that time had truly been happy.
There had indeed been a period when she dreamed of marrying a celebrity, of marrying a shining star who belonged only to her.
Looking at the dazzling Su Yicen before her, Song Chan knew that the dream from her school days had come true.
She remembered that Su Yicen had been quite chubby as a child. Could it be that he had made that change because of her?
Song Chan didn’t dare believe that someone would really work so hard because of her unrealistic fantasy.
She asked him, “So, you… because of me…?”
He had waited for her for so long, only to receive such a vague question.
Su Yicen smiled helplessly and said to her,
“Chanchan really is a silly fool. How are you this slow on the uptake?”
“I… you…” Song Chan grew anxious and didn’t even know what she was saying.
He chuckled lightly, as if he had no temper at all. He reached out and gently pinched her face, covering her flushed cheeks, his tone indulgent like he was coaxing a child.
“I’ll wait for you, Chanchan. No rush.”
Even though he was very eager inside, he couldn’t bear to rush her.
He had waited so many years already; it wouldn’t hurt to wait a little longer.
Moreover, Su Yicen could tell that Song Chan’s heart had already opened to him and was gradually drawing closer, starting to like him.
But Song Chan would probably never know that from the moment Su Yicen fell for her, his world had her as its endpoint.
She liked slim people, so he dieted and slimmed down. She said she wanted to marry a celebrity, so he strove to stand on the highest award stage, becoming the most dazzling star of this era.
Su Yicen liked Song Chan without any conditions attached.
Just like the language of the sunflowers he always used to express his love to her: ‘No one else in sight, only you everywhere.’
Su Yicen was like that—his heart and eyes were filled with Song Chan, leaving no room for anything else.
But Su Yicen’s affection wasn’t blind. He wouldn’t seek self-satisfaction or force Song Chan.
He would silently guard her and wait for her. One day, when she turned back, she would discover that he had always been there.
Just like back then, when Song Chan told him her wish, his own heartfelt desire quietly took root.
Liking her had been his long premeditated plan. At that time, Su Yicen already knew that he would one day become a celebrity, a star who shone because of her, and then marry her home.
Now, his dream could only be considered half-fulfilled. He still owed her a wedding that would make everyone envious.
—
The next evening, the night sky sparkled with gathered starlight.
The flight from Hangbei to Paris landed smoothly at Charles de Gaulle International Airport.
Perhaps because it had been too long since she last flew, or maybe because this flight had been too long—nearly 15 hours—Song Chan had barely closed her eyes the entire time, her nerves in a state of high tension.
Now that the plane had landed, her taut nerves finally relaxed, but her condition was like she had stayed up for three days and nights without sleep, so mentally exhausted that she felt like she could fall asleep standing up.
As soon as the cabin door opened, passengers began leaving their seats one after another, but Song Chan still showed no hurry.
Looking out the airplane window at the empty airport surroundings, they didn’t seem much different from Hangbei.
In her daze, Song Chan could hardly believe that she was already abroad.
“Still spacing out?”
A crisp snap of fingers sounded, accompanied by the low, gentle voice of the man beside her, drilling into her ears.
Song Chan snapped back to reality, shook her head, and yawned.
“No… I’m just a bit sleepy.”
He took her hand and pulled her up from her seat.
“Then we’ll rest once we get back to the hotel.”
In her daze, she was pulled off the plane by him before she realized that the person holding her hand was Su Yicen.
In such a public place, with people all around, she quickly withdrew her hand and reminded him in a lowered voice,
“The airport is full of people. Don’t get photographed.”
Su Yicen paused slightly at the sudden emptiness in his hand. Hearing her explanation, he couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Chanchan, your husband isn’t famous enough yet to be recognized by everyone in Paris.”
“So, you don’t need to worry.”
His voice carried no hint of lowering, drawing the gazes of nearby foreigners.
Su Yicen seemed to do it on purpose. Under the foreigner’s gaze, he took her hand again and gripped it tightly, waving it in front of the man.
“Mon epouse.”
She turned to look at the man beside her, only to see him lift his chin in a boastful, showy manner. The foreigner opposite widened his eyes, raised his eyebrows, grinned uncontrollably, and even gave him a thumbs up.
Song Chan was dumbfounded; she hadn’t understood the sentence at all.
She asked him, “You speak French?”
“No.”
Su Yicen was in a great mood, as if the foreigner’s reaction was entirely within his expectations.
“I learned it specially for Paris.”
He tossed out lightly, “I only learned this one sentence.”
With that, he raised his brow and asked her,
“Want to know what it means?”
Seeing him like a Flower Peacock about to spread his tail feathers, Song Chan could guess it probably wasn’t anything she wanted to hear.
“Nope.” Song Chan refused outright and didn’t forget to remind him, “Su Yicen, even abroad, tone it down a bit.”
“Your peacock tail is practically reaching the sky.”
Su Yicen’s unhurried voice replied in a way that was infuriatingly smug.
“I want to~”
“Wifey~”
As they entered the airport terminal, seeing the foreigners in pairs around them, hearing unfamiliar languages in writing and speech everywhere, Song Chan finally acknowledged that she was indeed in a foreign land.
The sense of unfamiliarity in this foreign country hit faster than the novelty.
Fortunately, there was someone gripping her hand tightly beside her, letting her know she wasn’t alone.
At the arrivals area,
Feng Zheng had arrived early and waited there for a long time.
After accompanying Su Yicen to finish his promotions, Feng Zheng and the team had come to Paris several days ahead of their boss, enjoying a few days of company-paid tourism.
As soon as they met, he handed their room cards over.
Seeing their tightly clasped hands—Su Yicen not even wearing a mask to cover his face—as the only person in the crew aware of their relationship, Feng Zheng solemnly reminded them.
“The crew booked the entire tenth floor of the hotel. That floor is all our crew members.”
He turned his head to Su Yicen, emphasizing to him.
“You two must be careful not to get discovered.”
“Got it.” Song Chan agreed, looking at the room card in her hand.
Su Yicen, however, was nonchalant. He took his card, glanced at it, and pocketed it.
But he was more interested in Song Chan’s room card, openly craning his neck to look.
Su Yicen’s movements were too obvious. Song Chan looked up and met his mischievous gaze.
She clutched her room card to her chest, making her stance clear with her actions.
The one caught red-handed didn’t mind at all. He curled his lip.
“I already saw it. You’re in 1025, I’m in 1026.”
Su Yicen’s voice drew out slowly, the teasing intent obvious.
“Teacher Song, we’re right across from each other. This must be fate…”
Song Chan: “……”
If she hadn’t come to Paris, having grown up in Hangbei, Song Chan would probably have felt wherever she went that it was nothing special.
But when she truly arrived in this city of fashion and romance, she finally understood that no matter how beautiful a place looked on screen, it couldn’t compare to the visual impact of seeing it in person.
On the way to the hotel, Song Chan’s gaze lingered out the car window, frame after frame of passing scenery.
Even though it was already pitch black outside, she could still see churches and houses everywhere, like castles from fairy tales, and the Eiffel Tower faintly visible in the distance. Every view seemed like a painting.
Taking in the scenery along the way felt like crashing headfirst into the city’s romance.
When the car pulled up at the hotel entrance, Feng Zheng glanced up and saw two crew members chatting idly at the door.
He turned to look at Su Yicen and Song Chan behind him, sighing helplessly.
If the crew spotted these two getting out of the same car, he’d have to pull another all-nighter for emergency PR.
He gave them a few instructions to hurry back to their rooms separately, then got out and drew away the chatting people at the door.
Song Chan peered out the car window like a spy, half her head sticking out, not relaxing until their figures were completely out of sight.
The bit of sleepiness from when the plane landed had long been scared away.
Song Chan couldn’t help regretting how she hadn’t stood her ground. The big boss said come, and she actually came.
If she’d known it would be this nerve-wracking, she would never have come, even if beaten to death.
Paris was great everywhere, but it really wasn’t friendly to her heart.
Seeing her so cautious, Su Yicen had to struggle not to laugh.
He told her, “It’s fine. No one will notice.”
As he moved to get out, Song Chan grabbed him.
“Wait a bit. Go in after I do. We need to stagger.”
Su Yicen lowered his gaze to Song Chan, leaning back slightly to scrutinize her, confirming she wasn’t joking.
He reminded her, “Has anyone told you that in the Entertainment Circle, the relationships you try hardest to cover up are the most real ones?”
Song Chan waved him off and opened the car door, ignoring him.
“If I don’t cover it up, I can’t even get out of this car.”
Afraid he wouldn’t listen, the already-out Song Chan poked her head back in to warn him.
“Su Yicen, we agreed—you go in after I’m inside a while. Did you hear me!”
Su Yicen nodded helplessly, then met the eyes of the French driver in the front seat, munching on the drama.
He pointed toward Song Chan’s receding figure, his low tone laced with pride.
“Mon epouse.”
The foreign driver: “……”
As soon as she entered the hotel lobby, Song Chan was deeply captivated.
No wonder Chichuang invested in producing the Fashion drama; the budget was indeed lavish, even the hotel for the crew this luxurious.
This hotel’s style matched the Pure White Series perfectly.
From the moment she walked in, Song Chan was like a tourist sightseeing, snapping photos nonstop with her phone.
Not far away, a French guy from the hotel lobby approached her slowly.
“Do you need my help?”
The French guy’s voice was elegant and appraising. His golden hair was slightly wavy, neatly styled; his bright blue eyes sparkled like gems. His faint smile could steal the hearts of countless girls.
Song Chan stared a bit in a daze; it was her first time seeing blue eyes up close, and it felt magical.
She was about to wave him off when Su Yicen’s face suddenly blocked her view.
His tone carried a hint of accusation. “Why are you staring at him like that?”
The next second, she was pulled into his embrace.
He declared possessively,
“Mon epouse.”
The French guy looked clearly stunned, shrugged at Song Chan, and gave an awkward smile.
Song Chan felt a bit helpless and returned a polite smile.
Seeing her smile at him, Su Yicen’s jealousy flared even more. He tightened his arm around her waist and reminded her,
“Song Chan, you’re a married woman. Can’t you stop fangirling over other men?”
It was utterly ridiculous!
Song Chan had no idea when she had fawned over anyone else.
Annoyed, she shot back irritably, “Who says?”
“Me.” Su Yicen answered matter-of-factly, wearing his jealousy openly on his face.
Song Chan: “Then I just won’t listen. What are you going to do about it?”
Su Yicen: “I’ll get jealous.”
“You eat your own jealousy.”
Song Chan struggled free from the arms that bound her.
“Your fans even call you husband.”
The corners of the ice block’s eyes lifted playfully. He seemed interested and pressed her further.
“So, you’ve been jealous of my fans all along?”
Song Chan let out a cold snort, looking utterly indifferent as she shook him off and walked away. “What does it have to do with me? Why would I be jealous?”
Seeing the concern she deliberately hid, Su Yicen’s earlier sourness vanished in an instant.
He caught up to Song Chan’s footsteps, took her hand, and pulled her tightly into his embrace.
Su Yicen spoke in a cool, serious tone, yet said the most improper words.
“What the fans call me doesn’t matter…”
“I’m still going home with you, getting into your bed…”
Song Chan’s heart raced from his teasing, and that man was still riding a bit of smug pride.
He raised an eyebrow smugly. “I suppose I could be considered an outstanding member of the Male Virtue Class.”