July was low season, perfectly coinciding with Paris’s vacation period.
The azure sky stretched cloudless for miles, promising perfect weather that day.
Song Chan had slept soundly the night before and woke early that morning. The fatigue from the long flight had mostly subsided.
For someone like her, accustomed to staying up late, a six-hour time difference was no big deal.
After dreaming all night about dating a little fan and a big star.
The moment Song Chan opened her eyes, she saw Su Yicen’s sleeping face right beside her.
She still couldn’t help blushing.
Even after spending so much time with Su Yicen day in and day out.
Every time she looked at him, her gaze still lingered on him involuntarily.
Su Yicen slept on his side facing Song Chan, one arm draped over her body, the other hand curled under his head as a pillow. His breathing was steady and drawn out, causing his solid chest to rise and fall rhythmically.
His sharply defined handsome face had relaxed brows, deep eyes closed tight, long lashes trembling lightly—none of his usual aloof demeanor in sight.
Su Yicen truly deserved his title as the hottest top idol in domestic entertainment; his looks and physique were beyond reproach.
After admiring this top idol’s face up close in secret for a while, the star-chasing thrill from her dream still lingered in Song Chan’s heart, suddenly giving her the sensation that her dream had come true.
She stared blankly at him for a bit longer, then checked the time—it wasn’t early anymore. She forced herself back to reality.
Song Chan pushed off Su Yicen’s arm draped over her and woke him.
“Get up. Hurry back to your room. It’ll be bad if someone sees.”
The person being nudged let out a lazy nasal hum, opened his sleepy eyes, and glanced at the time.
He breathed a sigh of relief, buried his head in her hair, and inhaled her scent.
Su Yicen pulled her even tighter into his embrace, reluctant to leave this tender moment. His voice, not yet fully awake, came out slurred.
“It’s just seven. The gathering isn’t till ten. Let’s sleep more—no rush…”
Just as he started to close his eyes for another snooze, his gaze caught the unnatural flush on the face of the person in his arms.
Su Yicen perked up with interest and teased.
“Teacher Song wouldn’t be fangirling over me first thing in the morning, would she…?”
His hand lightly caressed her flushed cheek, tone rising playfully at the end.
“And you’re blushing? What were you thinking?”
Caught fangirling by the man himself, Song Chan’s heartbeat went into chaos.
Without thinking, she blurted, “I had a nightmare…”
She clamped her mouth shut right after, but it was too late—he had heard every word.
Su Yicen pressed, “A nightmare?”
“What did you dream?”
His arm around her tightened, pinning her completely in his hold.
No matter how Su Yicen asked, Song Chan refused to say. His curiosity itched at him, but she turned her head away, ignoring him.
With effort, she wriggled free from his embrace. Song Chan yanked the blanket off him.
“I dreamed you were the ghost from my dream. Stop asking.”
“Get back to your room first, or what if someone catches us?”
Seeing him try to slack off again, she went straight for the hard line.
“Su Yicen, if you don’t leave my room in two minutes, forget about ever coming back.”
Song Chan delivered the harshest words in her most casual tone, but it worked like a charm.
The top idol, who moments ago had been angling to laze around and cuddle longer, shot up from the bed.
Helplessly, he said, “When did Teacher Song learn to threaten people?”
Song Chan smiled, slowly unlocked her phone, and replied.
“I’ve always been good at it. You just never noticed.”
Meeting Su Yicen’s resentful dark eyes, Song Chan kept smiling, watching quietly as he reluctantly dressed.
He took his time, and so did she, eyes on the stopwatch ticking rapidly on her phone screen.
Unhurried, mimicking his tone from last night, she reminded him, “Teacher Su, you have one minute and nine seconds left…”
Su Yicen drew in a breath, watching her gloat across from him as she waved her phone.
“You think I won’t actually time you?”
She glanced down again, lips curving into a smile.
Her words carried no overt threat, yet they sounded utterly dangerous.
“Teacher Su, in the time it took for one sentence, you have less than a minute left. I always follow through, oh~”
He didn’t even have time for his suit jacket. Su Yicen straightened his tie and stood.
His soft mutter drifted into Song Chan’s ears.
“Teacher Song is so heartless. Sleep’s over, and she doesn’t recognize me anymore.”
Song Chan reminded him, “I didn’t sleep last night.”
“And… we’re at twenty seconds countdown…”
He’d only meant to mess around with Song Chan, but she was dead serious.
The instant their eyes met, Su Yicen saw she wasn’t joking. An unfamiliar panic hit his heart, really making him feel the fear of getting caught in an affair.
From the bed, Song Chan drew out her voice for the final countdown.
Before the last numbers dropped, that usually aloof, imposing cold-faced top idol—for the sake of his happy Paris days ahead—panicked his way past the foyer sofa and vanished.
The crew’s filming kickoff hit right in Paris’s vacation season.
The weather was ideal, tourists from around the world flocking in, cranking Paris’s romance to max.
Song Chan deliberately staggered her arrival from Su Yicen’s by half an hour, reaching the crew’s prepared gathering spot early.
The moment she arrived, she felt once more just how loaded this crew was.
She sighed inwardly again: Chichuang truly was domestic entertainment’s top dog. Even on employee perks, it lapped the competition by streets.
A mere cast-and-crew pre-shoot ritual gathering and team build, and they booked a whole estate campground in peak-season Paris.
The verdant lawn was impeccably manicured, soft underfoot like thick carpet.
Estate grounds, wooden cabins, green grass, tents, even cows fenced in the pasture…
Dazzling sunlight rained down like magic, turning the scene into a fairy tale.
Song Chan was early; the crew hadn’t fully assembled, director and leads absent.
Sun too fierce, boredom setting in.
She ducked under a tent for shade. Eyeing the table’s desserts, her empty-stomach belly growled.
The sweets were custom from local shops, topped with wheat ears for booming ratings wishes.
Baguettes, crepes, donuts, macarons, rum cakes…
Exquisite array, plus Paris apple cider.
Song Chan skipped all the boozy ones—desserts and cider alike.
She knew her tolerance sucked now; no casual drinks, especially around Su Yicen.
She grabbed a macaron and bit in.
Tasty, sure, but real sweet—cloyingly so, way past her limit.
She powered through the whole thing despite the greasiness. Throat sticky-sweet, she moved to grab water when—
“Teacher Song, long time no see.”
Polite words in a rude tone.
That coquettish, domineering voice behind her—Song Chan knew it: only Li Shuning.
She turned. Li Shuning approached in a vivid red gown, breeze flipping her skirt like the opening salvo of a silent war.
Li Shuning smoothed the fabric, hand on her sun hat. Face shadowed, her star aura shone through.
Song Chan was stunning, but light makeup and athleisure paled her a touch today.
Li Shuning closed in, mood apparently chipper. Sunglasses off, she eyed Song Chan up and down.
No beating around: pure passive-aggressive snark.
“Teacher Song, I heard you took special leave from the crew just to fly with Teacher Su? True?”
“Trying to stage some ditzy sweetheart ‘chance encounter’ to snag his attention?”
Her pitched-up voice snagged nearby staff stares.
Song Chan knew: deliberate provocation, cornering her.
But she wouldn’t bite. Her comeback blew past expectations.
No panic, no denial from Song Chan.
“Teacher Li, you’re so sharp—spotting my devious plot like that…”
“Bet you skipped script study these days, obsessed with me instead, huh?”
“Oh!” Song Chan widened her eyes, hand to mouth in mock shock.
Dead serious: “Teacher Li, don’t tell me you’re a Chan Yi Mian Mian fan too? Auditioned specially to get close-up CP action?”
Her barrage derailed Li Shuning’s script entirely.
Since the charity gala, Li Shuning nursed that grudge, pegging Song Chan as soft.
But this clash? Her arsenal of barbs blocked cold; every line backfired.
Worse: Song Chan knew she’d chased the director for the female lead audition.
Handle exposed, Li Shuning clammed up on jabs. Too stubborn to fold, she doubled down on snark.
“You’re a piece of work. Public Weibo ‘clarification’ you don’t like Teacher Su, then every trick to seduce him behind closed doors…”
“Deep schemer? Gotta be you, Teacher Song!”
Stressed syllables pulled more eyes.
Gathering time neared; cast and crew trickled in, fixated on them.
Best temper snaps eventually. Song Chan fired back.
“If I wanted Teacher Su, why publicly cut ties first?”
“Teacher Li’s the deep thinker here, right?”
Murmurs rippled.
Li Shuning’s smug face froze mid-gloat, stiff like botched Botox.
Mouth opened—Song Chan shut it down, no gap given.
Song Chan hadn’t planned ZE Fashion leverage, but enough was enough—time for a reality check.
“Quick reminder, Teacher Li: Your future ZE Fashion collabs? Probably mine to handle.”
“Those pet series of yours? My turf too. So for smooth sailing ahead,”
“Hope you skip the self-sabotage. Clear?”
Gentle delivery, threat loaded.
Facts nailed her shut.
Done. Li Shuning deflated, Song Chan ignored her. Throat wrecked by macaron, water called.
Looking up: Su Yicen nearby, water cup in hand, heading over—discreet thumbs-up.
Before close, Li Shuning clocked him.
Actress pro: emotions reined in blink-fast, like nada happened.
Casual as ever, she sidled to Su Yicen.
“Teacher Su.” Li Shuning hailed him, smile on: “Messaged you days ago—no WeChat reply…”
Su Yicen cut straight: “Work account’s work only.”
“Assistant runs it. Too many messages? Spam filter. He never reported yours.”
He said that, and Li Shuning didn’t know how to reply.
She had clearly added Su Yicen on WeChat, and she had openly and subtly bragged about it to many people around her.
But now she realized that it wasn’t even Su Yicen’s personal account.
And… her private WeChat messages had been blocked as spam…
Li Shuning was at least a rising starlet. How could she tolerate such humiliation?
But when Su Yicen asked her, Li Shuning immediately cast that grievance aside.
“Teacher Li, what do you need from me?”
“I…” She didn’t know how to start for a moment. After hesitating for a long time, she decided to give it a shot anyway.
“Teacher Su, I noticed that all the original kissing scenes in the script have been cut…”
“I know.” Su Yicen cut her off. “I told the director to delete them.”
That was also beyond Li Shuning’s expectations. She didn’t quite understand.
“Teacher Su, this drama of ours is a Fashion idol series with some romantic elements. Without any kissing scenes, won’t it feel a bit off?”
Su Yicen nodded, and she thought she saw a glimmer of hope. But the words that reached her ears were completely different from what she had imagined.
“You’re right, Teacher Li. I should just tell the director to cut the female lead entirely and remove the romance line altogether.”
“I think even as a pure plot-driven series, the audience acceptance would still be pretty high.”
If those words had come from anyone else, Li Shuning would have flipped out on the spot. But they came from Su Yicen.
Things others couldn’t do or achieve, Su Yicen actually had the power to pull off.
Li Shuning lost all her fight. She felt like all her strength had been drained. In the years since her debut, she had always been the one bullying others. No one had ever made her feel this pathetic.
Having lost all face today, Li Shuning had no nerve to stick around. She made up some excuse and fled back to the hotel.
Song Chan, who had witnessed the whole thing, couldn’t help but feel secretly delighted deep down. She had just learned that Su Yicen had pushed to cut all the kissing scenes.
While she was spacing out, the person from not far away quietly approached her and handed her a bottle of water.
“Teacher Song really didn’t lie to me. You’re not just good at acting—you’re also really skilled at threatening people.”