9 ☪ Hot Romance 09
◎But I’m not like this to everyone◎
The unfinished words in the input box were deleted one by one by Song Chan.
She sent three question marks, and Su Yicen replied quickly from the other side.
Song Chan: 【？？？】
Su Yicen: 【Miss Song, please hurry. I shook off the paparazzi to get here.】
He had come to find her out of nowhere and was now urging her to leave quickly.
She wanted to dodge him but couldn’t do it fast enough. Song Chan’s fingers flew across the screen as she replied to him.
Song Chan: 【Mr. Su, I have human rights and freedom. I don’t have to be tied to you every moment unless it’s necessary.】
Song Chan: 【If there’s nothing else, go back first.】
Song Chan: 【I’m not going back tonight.】
She had never typed so fast before. In order to shut down Su Yicen ahead of time, Song Chan surpassed her previous typing speed.
Seeing that he no longer replied, she turned off the screen with satisfaction, closed her laptop, and prepared to clock out.
Before she could set down her phone, a call came in.
【Su Yicen】
Looking at the contact name on the screen, the smile that had just tugged at Song Chan’s lips flattened out.
“What do you want?” Her helplessness came through loud and clear in her voice.
“Can top idols really be this idle?”
Su Yicen was unhurried and unruffled, his voice clear and low: “Miss Song, I’m waiting for you.”
“You’re waiting for me. What does that have to do with me?”
Guessing he would bring up last night, Song Chan beat him to the punch: “Last night was just a little accident, Mr. Su. Don’t get too deep into character.”
Her voice drew glances from nearby colleagues, one of whom whispered, “Boyfriend?”
Song Chan shook her head: “No, my next-door neighbor.”
Su Yicen heard every word. The hand gripping his phone trembled unconsciously.
His lips pressed into a thin line, and the light in his eyes dimmed.
“Grandpa watched the livestream and wants us to come home for dinner.”
Song Chan deflated at once, her attitude softening.
“Can I take a rain check this once?”
The voice on the other end spoke deliberately, one word at a time.
“Miss Song, please follow the agreement.”
They had chosen to get secretly married precisely to fend off marriage pressure from both their families.
Song Chan had to stick to the basic terms of the agreement. Otherwise, if she ever needed Su Yicen to come home with her and deal with Lady Xu someday, and he didn’t play along, she’d be in deep trouble.
Song Chan relented: “Fine, I’ll go.”
The joy in her heart burst like a bubble. She had no choice but to head to the Su Family Old Mansion with Su Yicen and put on a show for Grandpa Su.
Su Yicen’s voice came unhurried through the line: “So, Miss Song, were you planning on staying out all night?”
This guy was overstepping. Song Chan hung up and decided to go tell him off to his face.
The underground garage was dimly lit. It was peak quitting time, and cars zipped constantly through the lanes.
She had forgotten to ask where Su Yicen parked. Song Chan wandered the lot searching.
Hundreds of cars filled the massive space—every make and model imaginable. Her eyes blurred, but she still couldn’t spot it.
As if he’d predicted she wouldn’t find him, her phone buzzed in her pocket. A message from Su Yicen.
Su Yicen: 【West wall, farthest in.】
She headed that way. The area was pitch black. Motion-sensor lights flicked on ahead with every few steps, while those behind winked out.
Even before she got close, Song Chan spotted a black Aston Martin parked up front.
All the cars around it were black too, but this one stood out.
To be precise, its price tag made it stand out—the kind of expensive that screamed luxury at first glance.
The sleek all-black body exuded steady grandeur, just like its owner: aloof, noble, and utterly unapproachable.
The man inside caught sight of her approaching figure. The headlights flashed on, and the engine purred to life.
A moment later, the car pulled up right in front of her.
Su Yicen rolled down the window: “Get in.”
The roof blocked her view. All she could see was his sharply defined hand resting on the steering wheel.
The passenger door was right there in front of Song Chan, but she had zero interest in sitting next to Su Yicen. She yanked at the rear door—locked from the inside.
“Open it!” Song Chan smacked the door.
He didn’t rush. “It’s open,” he said leisurely.
With those words, that sharply defined hand pushed open the passenger door.
Song Chan hissed under her breath: “Su Yicen, don’t push it.”
She tugged the rear door again—still locked.
They were blocking the lane. Cars behind honked impatiently, twice already.
No choice. Song Chan slid into the passenger seat.
She slammed the door with a ‘bang.’ The moment she settled in, she whipped out her phone, opened the secret marriage agreement, and read the terms aloud.
“Article One: This marriage is founded with no emotional basis between the parties. Neither may interfere in the other’s love life. Their relationship shall not be linked except in dealings with both families.”
“Article Two: Should one party find a suitable partner, the other must unconditionally end the marriage.”
“Article Three: Married status shall not be revealed unless necessary.”
“Article Four: Even with elders, maintain appropriate social distance.”
“Article Five: Neither party may interfere in the other’s private life.”
After the five articles, Song Chan hammered home the final addendum.
“Should one party violate these terms, the other may terminate the marriage early.”
“So Mr. Su, everything you’ve done today seriously interferes with my private life.”
Her tone was firm, her points crystal clear. Song Chan was quite pleased with her speech.
Su Yicen acknowledged it flatly, emotionless: “Got it. Done? Buckle up.”
Song Chan’s eyes went wide. Had she heard that right? She jabbed at their signatures on the agreement.
“Su Yicen, these are our signatures. It’s legally binding.”
He glanced over at his own looping scrawl and smiled silently.
She couldn’t stand his attitude: “Get serious. This is a partnership. You have no right to restrict my private life.”
“Oh.” Su Yicen nodded. Rush hour had jammed the road ahead into a solid line of cars. Theirs sat steady.
He turned to face her, expression unreadable—joking or earnest?
“But you slept with me. Doesn’t that make me part of your private life?”
Song Chan’s heart thumped hard. Those earnest eyes pinned her. Her fingers clenched the seatbelt; she wanted to lean back but had nowhere to go.
Seeing her obvious alarm, Su Yicen’s taut features eased. A faint smile curved his lips.
“I’m messing with you. Grandpa really did call us for dinner.”
Her mood lightened a touch, but Song Chan still couldn’t let it go.
“Then butt out. Whether I come home tonight has nothing to do with you.”
“How could it not?” The words tumbled out of Su Yicen before he could stop them.
Silence stretched a few seconds. Traffic crept forward; he released the parking brake.
“If you don’t come back, how are we doing the pre-collection shoot?”
“What else did you think I was asking about?”
His voice sank into the quiet like a single drop into the ocean—no ripple.
Song Chan went quiet. She’d overthought it.
“Sorry.”
Su Yicen inclined his head, words polite and detached—the distance she preferred.
“Just work cooperation. No pressure. We’ll stick to the agreement.”
A long pause followed. Acquiescence on one side, probing on the other.
—
The Su Family Old Mansion lay outside Hangbei City’s center. The suburban road had lighter traffic and flowed better.
The sky had darkened halfway, the car chasing the last scraps of sunset.
The car stayed silent for ages, quiet enough to hear each other’s breaths.
Song Chan still felt awkward. Her eyes flicked covertly to the man beside her, hunting for a topic change.
They hit a red light. Su Yicen eased off, stopping neatly at the line as the light changed.
The man next to her spoke up: “I’ve realized you’re not like I imagined—or like before.”
Su Yicen’s cool gaze shifted to her, his tone softening: “I’ve realized you’ve changed a lot. You’re nothing like the girl from back when we were kids.”
Song Chan laughed despite herself: “That’s how I am with everyone.”
He nodded, not arguing.
“But I’m not like that with everyone.”
10 ☪ Hot Romance 10
◎If we’re acting, let’s do it right◎
His grip tightened on the wheel. The light turned green; Su Yicen tapped the accelerator.
He, who never lost, only seemed to beat a retreat against Song Chan.
His brow twitched faintly. Calling her name, he grew especially solemn.
“Song Chan.”
“…You came onto me first.”
Song Chan froze. The words looped in her ears.
It made her sound like some irresponsible player who’d done every intimate thing with him, then pulled up her skirt and bailed.
Weird no matter how she sliced it—like Su Yicen was the one latching on.
But she knew she was at fault. That night was on her.
“Mr. Su, can we skip this?”
“Sure.” No pushback from him. “What would Miss Song like to talk about?”
Song Chan bit her lip. She wanted to say she’d never pegged him for such a chatterbox.
But that stayed in her head. No way she’d say it outright.
As a faithful adherent to their secret marriage agreement, Song Chan upheld the basics. To avoid slip-ups at the old mansion, she needed the latest on Su Dingran.
She asked: “How has Grandpa Su been feeling lately?”
The topic gave Su Yicen a headache, but he answered mildly: “Same as ever. Regular checkups at the hospital.”
Song Chan nodded. Stable condition—she could breathe easier.
She and Su Yicen had gone through with the secret marriage mostly because two years back, doctors found a tumor in Su Dingran.
Benign, not malignant. But for someone his age, fear was natural.
Su Dingran had ruled the business world for decades, fearless. Yet when sickness took root in him, terror bloomed.
He knew the odds of it turning vicious were slim. He knew his money meant top treatment, no death sentence.
Still, Su Dingran feared.
That fear soon weighed on Su Yicen.
He laid out two options.
Quit the entertainment circle sideshows and return to helm the Su empire. Or find a suitable girl, marry, build a stable home first.
Outcome obvious: Su Yicen picked door two. He found Song Chan, same boat, and pitched the contractual secret marriage.
Perfect match. Elders approved with blessings. Families knew each other inside out—ideal partners.
Light music drifted from the speakers at some point, soothing strains melting away fatigue.
Song Chan’s charming eyes fluttered as she turned toward Su Yicen.
Quiet and composed, he watched the road intently. She had to admit: top idol looks like his? Zero hype. Up close, his handsome, icy features were flawless.
Night had fully fallen. Streetlights glowed. Cars whipped by, their yellow beams sweeping Song Chan’s face over and over.
Before she knew it, she was lost in it.
She stared who-knew-how-long until Su Yicen’s voice yanked her back.
His throat bobbed. His voice came out husky: “Miss Song, if you keep staring at me like that…”
“I can’t take it.”
Song Chan whipped her head away. The window mirrored her made-up face—vivid, alluring, pure temptress.
A face like that, those seductive eyes locked on any man? No one could stay cool.
Song Chan cleared her throat with a light cough.
“Have you told Grandpa Su about me?”
“Hm?” Su Yicen blinked, catching on that she meant the earlier thread. “I didn’t bring you up, but he asked.”
Song Chan: “What about?”