On her way back to Jingjiang Villa, He Yan passed by a dessert shop.
After some serious deliberation and considering how hard she’d been working lately she decided to treat herself, just a little.
She picked out a matcha cake, grabbed a strawberry one for Aunt Qian, and after a moment’s thought, added another mango flavor.
By the time He Yan arrived at the villa, Aunt Qian was already at the door to greet her. When she saw that He Yan had brought her a cake, her smile stretched from ear to ear.
“Oh my, it’s been ages since I’ve had something like this! Living in the young master’s house so long, I guess my tastes just naturally turned more plain. But I used to love this kind of thing!”
Chuckling, she took the cake, then gestured toward the study upstairs. “The young master is in his study, madam. Would you like to go see him?”
He Yan was about to wave it off when she caught the unusually eager look in Aunt Qian’s eyes.
Fine, fine. She’d go. Just say hi and leave.
She walked to the study door and raised her hand to knock.
“Come in.” The voice was cool and distant, and He Yan couldn’t help but shiver slightly.
She carefully pushed the door open and poked her head in. “Um, I’m back. I’ll be staying for about two days.”
At the sound of her voice, Jiang Mingcheng looked up. A small head had appeared through the doorway, with glistening eyes that held both curiosity and distance.
“Okay,” he replied flatly.
He Yan felt a little awkward.
Seriously, Jiang Mingcheng! Would it kill him to say more than one word?
Whatever, whatever. He’s the one paying the bills. She can bear it. She can bear it!
“I got you a cake, mango flavor. It’s in the fridge. Don’t forget to eat it!”
“I don’t eat sweets,” Jiang Mingcheng replied without hesitation.
“Oh. Okay then. Never mind. Carry on.” He Yan faked a smile and closed the door. The moment it clicked shut, her smile vanished.
Would it kill him to just be polite? Fine, don’t eat it! Spoiled much!
Huffing, He Yan stormed into her room and slammed the door behind her.
After finishing his emails, Jiang Mingcheng finally left the study. His gaze briefly swept over He Yan’s closed door before he headed downstairs.
Aunt Qian wasn’t in sight. Jiang Mingcheng walked to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. When he opened it, a small, delicate cake sat inside.
Topped with chunks of mango.
He glanced around briefly, then took out the cake, opened the lid, and picked up a fork. He speared a mango piece coated in cream and brought it to his lips.
His brow furrowed.
The cream was too sweet. It really wasn’t good.
He closed the lid, put the cake back in its original spot, grabbed a bottle of water, and shut the refrigerator door before heading back upstairs.
After finishing her matcha cake, He Yan found herself craving more. Her mind kept drifting to that mango cake in the fridge downstairs.
It was pretty small. The calories couldn’t be that high, right?
And Jiang Mingcheng clearly wasn’t going to eat it. It’d be a waste.
Having convinced herself, she padded downstairs, retrieved the mango cake, and settled in at the dining table to eat.
As she ate, she scrolled through variety shows on her phone, laughing without restraint.
When Jiang Mingcheng came downstairs again, that carefree laughter was the first thing he heard.
Curious, he walked toward the dining room. His gaze landed on the mango cake in front of He Yan.
She froze for a few seconds when she saw him, then quickly composed herself. Looking a little guilty, she pressed her lips together. “You said you weren’t going to eat it. I just thought it’d be a shame to waste food, so…”
Her voice trailed off, and she glanced at him with a touch of unease.
Jiang Mingcheng had been about to mention that he’d already touched the cake earlier, but He Yan’s reminder made him recall what he’d said before. He swallowed the words and replied flatly, “Okay.”
He Yan pursed her lips.
Okay, okay, okay! That’s all he ever says!
Still, since he didn’t object, she went back to watching her variety show without worry.
Jiang Mingcheng caught every bit of her subtle reactions. As he passed her, his gaze swept over her phone screen: a few handsome young men, laughing and horsing around in some game.
He looked away without comment and walked toward the living room.
The chef had arrived; the aroma of food was already beginning to waft through the air. He Yan patted her stomach, which now contained two small cakes, and felt a pang of regret.
She should have saved more room for dinner.
When she sat down across from Jiang Mingcheng, she found herself wondering if the man was even capable of emotion.
She had never once seen him smile. His face was perpetually cold, distant, unmoved.
Throughout the meal, He Yan kept stealing glances at Jiang Mingcheng, trying to detect even a flicker of feeling beneath that icy exterior.
Jiang Mingcheng was well aware of her stares. After what felt like the dozenth time, he finally spoke. “What are you looking at?”
His gaze fixed steadily on her. Though unintentional, it carried an air of authority.
Startled by his stern expression, He Yan froze for a few seconds before stammering, “I-I was just thinking you’re pretty handsome…”
Jiang Mingcheng was momentarily stunned. He had no idea how to respond. Wordlessly, he picked up his chopsticks and continued eating.
And yet, somewhere deep inside, a faint, inexplicable softness stirred—just slightly, just once.
The silent, awkward dinner ended, and He Yan slunk back to her bedroom, not daring to look at Jiang Mingcheng.
Oh my god, this man was so intimidating! It’s like the air itself freezes around him!
The next day, He Yan left early for the company.
She changed into the gown the company had prepared, had her makeup done meticulously, and then headed to the awards ceremony with her assistant.
He Yan stepped out of the car, holding up her dress as she made her way toward the venue. As she rounded a corner, she collided with someone.
Her heels wobbled, and she started to fall but the man beside her caught her.
A pair of strong hands steadied her.
“Sorry—thank you.” Once she’d regained her balance, He Yan lifted her gaze. A handsome face appeared before her.
The man’s expression seemed gentle at first glance, but his peach-blossom eyes held no warmth only a faint, distant aloofness.
He released her immediately. “Watch your step, Miss He.”
And with that, he turned and walked away.
He Yan watched his retreating figure and frowned slightly. That man looked strangely familiar.
“Sister Yan Yan! What did you and Film Emperor Pei talk about?” Her assistant, Yuan Yuan, caught up, brimming with gossip. “Too bad we didn’t get a shot of that!”
So that was Pei Yanchuan. No wonder he looked familiar. When she’d searched for him earlier, she hadn’t gotten a good look before heading to the set only a brief glance at a photo.
No wonder he was so handsome. He was the male lead, after all.
As the novel’s protagonist, Pei Yanchuan was practically built to score perfect marks across the board. Not only was he a film emperor, he was also the kind who’d have to inherit billions in family wealth if he ever quit acting.
But that had nothing to do with her. Because Pei Yanchuan, despite his outwardly gracious demeanor, was ruthless when crossed and utterly merciless in his methods.
Better not to provoke him.
He Yan entered the awards venue and searched for a while before locating her seat. As she approached, she realized Pei Yanchuan was sitting right next to her.
She paused mid-step, pressed her lips together, walked over, offered a polite smile, and sat down.
What was there to be afraid of? It wasn’t like she had any interest in him!
He Yan resolved to treat Pei Yanchuan like thin air. Her gaze drifted across the other celebrities coming and going, and she tried hard to recognize and remember each face.
But Pei Yanchuan’s attention fell on He Yan beside him.
He’d heard his agent curse her out before, rant about how shamelessly He Yan clung to him for publicity, how despicable her team was.
He’d never paid it much mind.
After all, plenty of people in the industry tried to ride his coattails. It was only because his agent mentioned her team so often that the name had stuck in his memory.
But watching her today, He Yan didn’t seem particularly interested in him.
Having spent years in the entertainment industry, Pei Yanchuan knew there were two kinds of publicity stunts: those the artist willingly participated in, and those they were reluctantly forced into.
He found himself curious: which one was she?
Truth be told, today’s awards ceremony had nothing to do with He Yan.
She’d only played a minor supporting role in some film. With her previous acting record, attending this event was practically an invitation to public humiliation.
But the company was determined to tether her to Pei Yanchuan. They’d pulled strings to get her in and arranged this very seat.
So much effort. Tomorrow, she’d definitely be ripped apart online.
He Yan sighed softly at the thought.
Beside her, Pei Yanchuan noticed.
“Miss He, are you unhappy?”
He Yan turned toward the voice. Pei Yanchuan was looking down at her, his strikingly beautiful eyes holding a trace of curiosity.
“No, just a little bored,” He Yan answered honestly. Since she had no interest in Pei Yanchuan, there was no need to pretend around him.
“Oh? Which film brought Miss He here today?” Pei Yanchuan found himself inexplicably wanting to continue the conversation, so he asked another question.
“Doesn’t matter which film, it’s not like I’m winning anything anyway. I’m just here for some screen time.” He Yan found it a little absurd herself and couldn’t help but smile, her eyes curving into crescents.
The corners of her eyes tilted upward with a subtle charm, her gaze shimmering. Pei Yanchuan took it all in.
His eyes traced her face, from her bright eyes to the tip of her nose, then downward to her soft, inviting lips.
He quickly looked away.
Soon, the awards ceremony began. He Yan was completely absorbed by the wit and charisma of the various hosts and presenters on stage. She paid no attention to Pei Yanchuan beside her.
Nor did she notice his gaze occasionally drifting in her direction.
After some time, the presenter on stage announced Pei Yanchuan’s name. A smile on his face, he rose gracefully. His black tuxedo was elegant and perfectly fitted, carrying an air of restrained allure, the kind that made others want to undo his layers and see what lay beneath.
Even He Yan had to admit to herself: he really was the male lead. The only one who could rival him was Jiang Mingcheng, back at the villa.
After the ceremony ended, He Yan posed for several photos, fulfilling her role as the decorative “pretty face.” Only then did the photographer arranged by Sister Jingyi finally let her go.
With the event over, He Yan gathered her gown and prepared to leave. But Pei Yanchuan, still giving an interview nearby, let his gaze drift toward her intentionally or not.
When she had been seated, it was one thing. Now that she was standing, her flawless figure was on full display: her slender waist, so delicate it seemed it could be encircled by a single hand; beneath the layers of gossamer fabric, her long, fair legs peeked through, stirring the imagination.
Yet the owner of this exquisite form seemed utterly unaware of her own appeal. She casually gathered her skirts and hurried off, as if unwilling to linger a moment longer in the spotlight.
Only after He Yan’s figure had completely disappeared did Pei Yanchuan return to his usual demeanor—warm, humble, his expression once again untouched by any ripple of emotion.
**