5 ☪ Hot Romance 05
◎If black fans count as fans, then I’ll be his fan for life◎
You don’t mind, but I do.
But she only dared to warn him with her eyes.
Su Yicen remained calm and composed, his expression unchanging as he quietly waited for her answer.
Song Chan had long witnessed the ferocity of top idol fans, and she had no desire to become the center of public scrutiny.
With a massive crowd of fans right across the street, she had no other choice. Her bright, alluring eyes curved as she forced a pleasing smile, her tone softening as she mimicked the fans’ way of addressing him.
“Then Cen Cen, what should we do now?”
The coquettish lilt that slipped out gave her goosebumps.
Su Yicen didn’t bat an eyelid, but Feng Zheng up front couldn’t hold back a snicker. When he turned to tease her, he met the man’s icy gaze and wisely shook his head, falling silent as he turned back around.
“Miss Song, that’s hardly sincere.”
Su Yicen lifted the corner of his mouth, deliberately drawing out the last two words.
“My fans usually call me gege, or hubby…”
The company building drew nearer, and the fans’ shouts crossed the street, slipping through the car window into Song Chan’s ears.
The invisible pressure felt like a mountain on her shoulders. Her smile faded, and Song Chan lost her patience.
She straightened up, looking rather formidable as her tone turned cold.
“Su Yicen, what exactly do you want?”
“The agreement only requires us to deal with each other’s families. There’s nothing about putting on a show in front of your fans.”
Su Yicen nodded, not denying it, but said, “The agreement doesn’t mention what happens if one party gets drunk either…”
“Wait!” Song Chan immediately raised a hand to cut him off, her cheeks heating as she kept her head down.
Feng Zheng couldn’t resist his gossip-monger instincts and turned around again. “You two went drinking last night?”
“Good grief, a lone man and woman, dry tinder meeting a spark!”
He grew more excited, as if he’d uncovered some massive scoop.
“No wonder you insisted on going back…”
Su Yicen gave a light cough, and Feng Zheng immediately shut up, changing tack. “To… grab a file, and then you never came back…”
Song Chan wished the car floor would swallow her whole.
For some reason, last night’s events had unlocked something in Su Yicen. The man who usually spoke sparingly had already said more today—and they weren’t even halfway through the day—than in the entire half-year they’d known each other.
Outside were hundreds of fans visiting the set. Inside was a top idol who could trend just by wearing clothes. Trapped in the car, Song Chan had nowhere to go.
Fine. Better to die than suffer humiliation. She’d endure it.
It was her own fault for drinking and taking the initiative last night.
Song Chan furrowed her brows, bit her lip, and squeezed two muffled words through her teeth.
“Gege.”
“That’ll do.”
With that, she turned away and refused to look at him.
To console herself, he was a year older anyway, so calling him gege wasn’t a loss.
After a moment with no response from Su Yicen, the light turned green, and the car began to move slowly.
Song Chan twisted back around, figuring she might as well go all in. Worst case, she’d be gossip fodder for a while. The internet had no memory; they’d forget soon enough.
Her industry had one advantage: a rock-solid mentality that didn’t crack easily.
Su Yicen adjusted the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose and spoke unhurriedly.
“You don’t have to look like you’re marching to your death.”
“It’s about that bad.” Song Chan shot back irritably. “You’re the one forcing me.”
Seeing she was truly annoyed, Su Yicen moved his lips but said nothing.
He shrugged off his trench coat and told her, “Come here.”
Their eyes met, and Song Chan understood. She moved the handbag blocking them aside and scooted closer, closing the deliberate gap until she leaned over and lay across his lap.
Though reluctant, Song Chan had to admit there was no better option right now.
Seeing her cooperate for once, Su Yicen curved his lips slightly. He shook out the trench coat to cover her. With her slender frame, the oversized coat hid her completely from outside view.
Su Yicen’s tone was cool as he instructed, “Old Wang, head straight to the underground garage.”
Wrapped in the pitch-black trench coat, Song Chan even slowed her breathing. She felt like a smuggler slipping past hundreds of watchful eyes without detection.
And the one helping her was the very source of her predicament.
Every breath drew in air laced with Su Yicen’s scent—inescapable, unavoidable—making her heart pound wildly.
Memories of last night’s intimacy, mingled with the fans’ noisy cheers outside, set her blood boiling.
Then, a hand suddenly stroked her back, patting gently like one soothing a child.
Song Chan froze, but her panic did ease somewhat.
Su Yicen’s hand patted lightly and discreetly, comforting the person he’d hidden as they passed openly under the fans’ intense gazes.
He whispered softly, “It’s okay. Don’t be scared.”
The car smoothly entered the underground garage. ZE Fashion’s garage wasn’t open to the public and led straight to the office building interior, so Song Chan could reach her office without passing through the chaotic crowd.
Without a word of thanks, she bolted from the car the moment it stopped and dashed into the elevator. She shut the doors mercilessly before the others could catch up.
Only when the doors fully closed did her racing heart finally calm.
The elevator rose, and Song Chan switched to work mode in record time.
She shoved all prior events from her mind. Time to work—she loved her job.
Self-pep talk complete, the doors opened just then.
Spotting Song Chan, Li Yuchuan lit up like she’d thrown him a lifeline.
He hurried over. “Chan Sister, you’re finally back.”
He was the department’s earliest intern—honest, fresh out of college, assigned under her by the chief editor.
Song Chan couldn’t help laughing. “I was only gone one day. What happened?”
Li Yuchuan was smooth with words. “A day without seeing you felt like three years apart.”
“Chan Sister, my profile interview piece—I keep revising, but it still feels off. Can you take a look?”
“Sure.” Song Chan took it on. “Send it to me. I’ll check it out.”
Before she reached her desk, Li Yuchuan stopped her again. Clearly, he had more.
He kept his head down, clutching a proof copy, looking troubled.
“Chan Sister, the next issue’s proofs just arrived. There’s a problem…”
“What problem?” Before even taking it, she spotted it. “Why is Li Shuning on the cover of the April Issue?”
Song Chan’s finger rubbed the cover as she flipped to the first page. Mu Xi, under Li Shuning’s profile, was the one who should have been on this issue’s cover.
Not only had the cover been inexplicably swapped, but even the profile layout had Li Shuning jumping ahead of Mu Xi.
ZE Fashion’s first-quarter theme was Fresh Blossom Season, and Li Shuning was a glamorous seductress type. Though their team had tried aligning her promo shots with the theme, the final images still clashed horribly with “Fresh Blossom Season.”
ZE Fashion aimed for the subtle elegance of gardenia branches, but Li Shuning was a flamboyant rose.
As the theme lead, Song Chan had chosen Mu Xi, whose look fit Fresh Blossom Season perfectly.
The issue? Compared to Li Shuning, Mu Xi’s popularity was notably lower.
Li Yuchuan rubbed his neck, not daring to look up. “Chan Sister, Sister Shuning’s side said cover spots should go by status…”
“They claimed our pick wasn’t suitable and went behind our backs to the printing factory. Basically, they wanted to…”
“Throw their weight around.” Song Chan finished for him, voicing what he couldn’t.
She slapped the proof on the desk. With presale looming, this theme-mismatched cover was unusable.
She understood Li Shuning’s team’s logic. ZE Fashion was a top domestic style magazine with international clout. Stars fought for regular covers, let alone themed ones.
But bypassing them to alter prints? Light version: contract disrespect. Heavy: breach of contract, even illegal.
Li Yuchuan was encountering this for the first time and was scared witless. It was his first project since starting—if it blew up, he’d be implicated.
That might intimidate an intern, but Song Chan knew Li Shuning’s team had pulled this before, timing it pre-presale so companies often compromised to avoid reprint costs.
Not her. Her professionalism kept her from exploding on the spot.
“Give me Li Shuning’s agent’s number. I’ll handle it.”
She set the proof aside, opened her computer, and sent the original approved cover and unmodified first-page profiles to the printing factory.
She told Li Yuchuan, “Watch this closely. Void all prior prints and have them redo it.”
Li Yuchuan hesitated. “But presale’s in a week. Is there time to reprint?”
Song Chan rubbed her brow. “That’s their problem now. They messed up—just convey our stance.”
With the cover issue settled, Song Chan could finally breathe.
Qian Ya approached with a cup of coffee. “Black, no milk, no sugar.”
She’d joined ZE Fashion the same year as Song Chan—the only two from that cohort still there. They’d known each other longest and were tightest at work.
Gently kneading Song Chan’s shoulders, Qian Ya nodded at the screen.
“Boot up for a surprise.”
Office drone Song Chan didn’t buy surprises. Her earlier pep talk was already spent.
But her fingers honestly hit the power button.
Once the boot animation ended, a familiar face appeared on her desktop.
Su Yicen gazed at her from the screen, his noble, aloof features softened by a slight smile.
Qian Ya beamed smugly. “How’s that? I swapped it for you—handsome as hell, right?”
“Our desktops match now. Sister set.”
Qian Ya fawned over the photo on Song Chan’s screen.
“Cen Cen’s insanely hot. That build, that face—top-tier striking idol for a reason…”
Song Chan’s face stiffened. Facing that familiar visage, she had no idea how to react.
Seeing she wasn’t thrilled, Qian Ya asked, “Aren’t you a Su Yicen fan?”
Song Chan averted her eyes from the screen. “Am I?”
After a beat, she affirmed, “If black fans count as fans, then I’ll be his fan for life.”
Realizing Song Chan truly disliked him, Qian Ya puzzled, “What’s the deep grudge?”
Last night’s scenes lingered, flashing frame by frame in her mind. Song Chan shook her head to dispel them, but they stuck fast.
Glancing up, she met Su Yicen’s name on a folder.
He truly lived up to top idol status—his shadow inescapable everywhere.
“Nothing.” Song Chan brushed it off. “I just don’t like the look of him.”
Qian Ya nodded. “Fair enough. Oh, chief editor mentioned in yesterday’s meeting—the 20th Anniversary Issue’s cover profile is yours to handle.”
“Mine?!”
Song Chan was stunned, a thrill mixing in. The 20th Anniversary Issue’s importance was obvious, and the cover profile was the crown jewel.
These were usually the chief editor’s domain—why her?
Qian Ya asked, “You unwilling?”
Song Chan shook her head. “No, it’s just…”
She couldn’t explain and glossed over it vaguely.
Grabbing the wrong cup, Qian Ya sipped Song Chan’s coffee. The bitter intensity made her squint; after a pause, she said, “I figured it’d be a nice surprise today.”
Song Chan pouted, promptly swapping the desktop to a haughty husky’s glare.
“Surprise? More like scare.”
Qian Ya patted her shoulder solemnly. “Be grateful, baby. Chief editor’s grooming you.”
Song Chan knew it was a promotion, so she couldn’t refuse.
But that meant she couldn’t dodge Su Yicen anymore.
As she fretted, the chief editor’s office door opened.
A sharp, elegant woman in a crisp white casual suit stepped out.
“Little Song.” Editor Lin Jinhe instructed her: “Get ready. We’re going together to the live stream preview for the 20th Anniversary Issue.”
Song Chan quickly stood up to agree, but before she could speak, she heard her say again.
“Su Yicen happens to be there too, so do the pre-interview together.”