Throughout the meal, He Yanci's phone buzzed repeatedly with calls. Though set to silent, the screen kept drawing Wen Ruan's gaze. He declined several in a row, letting them go to voicemail.
Her eyes lingered on his phone. Could it be his girlfriend? she wondered. Probably heard about this arranged "meeting" and is throwing a fit. Out of courtesy—after all, he'd played the gentleman all night—she excused herself to the restroom, giving him space to deal with it.
He nodded slightly. The moment her graceful figure vanished from the private room, his demeanor sharpened; it was a work call. He dialed his assistant back.
In the hallway, Wen Ruan's phone exploded with messages from Tang Suiyi:"PHOTOS PHOTOS PHOTOS!!!""Ruan Ruan, you can't do this! We're supposed to share beautiful things!""Don't worry, I have principles—I only want to ogle his face, not his body. Pleeeease, cutest bestie~"
Rolling her eyes, Wen Ruan gave in. She found a corner, angling her phone to capture He Yanci's profile as he spoke on the phone, unaware. Click. The shot was perfect—his sharply chiseled face, though his brow was furrowed deeply. Girlfriend troubles? She sent it to Tang, then quickly recalled it.
"OH MY GOD!!! Ruan Ruan, you hit the jackpot! Is my brother-in-law this stunning? Why'd you recall it?!"Wen Ruan: "Copyright, hello? One glance is enough. Don't be greedy."Tang: "So stingy! He's your man, let me admire him! I'll show you my future man every day, promise!"Wen Ruan groaned: "I don't want to see your man. And he's not 'mine'—this is just a farce. Stop overthinking."
Tang spiraled: "What do you mean? Holy sh*t! Is he a two-timing scumbag? Has his mistress come after you? Are we about to have a 'save our love' drama with tears and threats? Listen, Ruan Ruan—you were the official fiancée even in the womb! If He dares cheat, don't hold back. Slap them both for me! I'll fly over right now to back you up!"
By the time Wen Ruan washed her hands, her screen was flooded with panicked messages about mistresses and scandals. "You've been in the editing team too long—your imagination's gone wild. Come to my screenwriting team instead.""I wish! Lao Da won't let me—says my creativity 'surpasses Earth's limits' and wants to send me to space in a hot air balloon. Ridiculous!""Classic Lao Da."
Tang called directly, bombarding her with warnings about two-timing scumbags. Only after lengthy reassurance did she hang up, followed by a final plea: "Don't forget my script! Lao Da's been nagging like a menopausal old man. Torture the scumbag mercilessly—channel your screenwriting momentum!Charge!"
Shaking her head, Wen Ruan dismissed the girlfriend rumor. Their "relationship" was a formality; even if he had someone, it was irrelevant. She lingered outside for ten minutes, waiting for his call to end, before returning to the room.
He Yanci had finished, his shirt now unbuttoned at the collar, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of collarbone. He toyed with the agarwood bead bracelet on his wrist, the faint scent of sandalwood lingering.
"Ready to leave? Or would you like to do something else?" he asked.
Wen Ruan longed to explore alone, but smiled politely: "Let's head home. It's late and chilly."Chilly? He raised an eyebrow. It's rather warm. He handed a black card to a waiter, paying the bill.
Before he could offer a ride, she waved her phone: "My family's driver is already downstairs. Your villa is out of the way—don't trouble yourself."
He Yanci noted her sly smile, amused by her deflection: "A detour is fine. A post-meal walk aids digestion. Let's go.""No need! Your girlfriend will worry if you're home late." Just let me maintain this ladylike image a little longer."Girlfriend?" His smile was icy, eyes sweeping over her. The memory of her silhouette behind the screen flashed— he swallowed, focusing. "I don't have one. Not currently."
Wen Ruan nodded, not truly believing him. Seizing the chance to address the elephant in the room: "Well, I hope you find someone soon."But he didn't take the bait. Is he waiting for me to bring up canceling the engagement? Not a chance. With her grandfather's health fragile, she couldn't risk upsetting the status quo yet.
She insisted on taking her "family's car," and he didn't press, having urgent work. At the restaurant entrance, he opened the rear door, hand shielding her head: "Be careful. Text me when you're home.""Sure, sure." Good riddance.
The door closed. Wen Ruan collapsed into the seat, the fake smile dropping instantly. Once the car left, she handed the driver cash: "Stop at the mall up ahead." The "family driver" was just a rented luxury car.
Masked and in casual clothes, she bought a ticket for Dawn, the top-grossing movie, pairing it with popcorn and a cold Coke. By the time she returned, it was past 10 PM.
At the villa, her mother, Min Qing, opened the door, frowning: "Alone? Didn't He Yanci send you home?""Of course he did! I asked him not to enter the villa—didn't want to disturb you." The gate guard can confirm, she lied, relying on the rented car's brand matching his.
Min Qing peered at her: "Why are your eyes red?""Wind from the walk."
Upstairs, Wen Ruan flopped onto her bed, texting Fu Jingbai, the actor from Dawn:"Mr. Fu, your performance made me cry!"He replied quickly: "You saw it? Glad you liked it.""Your acting was incredible! But credit to the screenwriter—she gave you great material." Wen Ruan's pen name, "Fearless Warmth," was well-known in the industry.
Fu: "How's Grandpa Wen doing?""Much better, thanks for asking."Fu: "Take care of yourself too. No late nights, and stick to the exercise plan I made.""Yes, sir! I wouldn't dare disobey."
They discussed the movie's character nuances until late, a rare moment of professional camaraderie.
Near midnight, a black Bentley glided into a historic courtyard. He Yanci entered, narrowly catching a flying object—a vintage tea pet his grandfather cherished.
"Grandpa, what's this about?" he laughed, holding the figurine. "First smartphones, now aerial tosses? Your grandson can't handle such 'gifts.'"
His parents, tense from the near-miss, sighed in relief. The old man grumbled from his armchair, but his eyes softened at the sight of his grandson—home safe, if still evasive about the night's events.
In the quiet of the courtyard, He Yanci's mind wandered back to Wen Ruan's sly smile, the curve of her neck beneath the cheongsam, the faint jasmine scent of her hair. A farce, he told himself. Just a formality. But the memory lingered, stubborn and unbidden—a complication he hadn't anticipated.