Ying Chan had no choice but to hold the phone slightly away from her ear. “I’m home. What’s up?”
Yue Jingchun spoke with righteous indignation. “You dare ask me what’s up? Today marks the ten-thousandth day since your Chun-ge was born—a momentous occasion—and you actually forgot!”
“…”
Ying Chan knew this guy was unreliable, but she hadn’t expected him to be this unreliable. “So?”
Yue Jingchun said cheerfully, “So I’m throwing a party at the Daylight Bar, and you should come have a drink too!”
Ying Chan said casually, “I’m not bringing a gift.”
“You’re such a big star and still this stingy? Fine, fine, given our relationship, I wouldn’t dare accept a gift from you anyway. Just show up in person.”
“Alright.” She didn’t have anything else to do anyway.
Yue Jingchun finally revealed his true intention. “Bring Ye Han along too, won’t you?”
Ying Chan said with a half-smile, “You two broke up like eight hundred years ago—why are you still calling her over?”
Yue Jingchun fidgeted awkwardly, like a shy maiden. “Even if we can’t be boyfriend and girlfriend, we can still be friends.”
“Fine, fine.”
As if anyone couldn’t see through his little scheme.
After hanging up, Ying Chan sent a message to Ye Han, then another to Jin Si.
By the time she finished changing clothes and picked up her phone, the former had replied while the latter remained silent.
She called, but Jin Si didn’t answer.
Ying Chan put on her shoes and headed out, going up to the 15th floor. She rang the doorbell, but no one came to the door.
She felt puzzled—could he have gone out?
Well, well. Dereliction of duty.
Last night he’d nitpicked her for going to see Shang Lübai alone, and now the tables had turned—it was her turn to catch him in the wrong.
Still, she wanted to confirm before launching an accusation, so he couldn’t weasel his way out later. Ying Chan directly entered the passcode, opened the door, and walked in.
Every table, every chair, every scene and object here remained exactly as Sheng Xiali had left them. Jin Si lived here but had left no personal traces—not even clothes tossed about. It was so tidy it seemed uninhabited.
A thought suddenly surfaced in Ying Chan’s mind—could he have left without saying goodbye?
She felt inexplicably nervous and walked straight toward the bedroom.
At the same moment, the bathroom door opened, and a man emerged with a body still carrying steam. Ying Chan couldn’t brake in time and nearly collided with him. She quickly stepped back and instinctively looked up.
“…”
Jin Si had clearly just finished showering; his hair was still dripping water.
Water droplets slid from his collarbone down to his chest. His pectoral muscles weren’t exaggerated—just a thin layer of firm muscle that clearly conveyed the strength contained within.
Further down were six-pack abs and a V-line that tapered toward his hips. His lean waist was wrapped in a white bath towel, his hip bones prominent. Very sexy.
Caught completely off guard by this vivid, tantalizing sight, Ying Chan was momentarily stunned and didn’t look away… in fact, she felt she hadn’t seen enough.
Her gaze was far too direct. Jin Si was so annoyed he laughed instead, and directly draped the towel he’d been using to dry his hair over her head. “Where are you looking, you pervert.”
The towel was slightly damp, carrying the faint fragrance of his shampoo.
Ying Chan snapped back to reality, realized what had happened, and quickly pulled the towel off, spinning around to face away from him. Heat surged to her face as she bit back, “You! Why are you showering at this hour!”
“I’ll shower whenever I damn well please. The question is you,” Jin Si said, looking her up and down. “Why are you in my place? Trying to ambush me? Well, you did catch me at my most vulnerable moment. Looks like I’m losing my innocence today.”
“…”
Ying Chan clenched the towel, grinding her teeth. “I called you and you didn’t pick up. I rang the doorbell and you didn’t answer. That’s why I let myself in.”
Jin Si gave a very light snort. “Don’t believe you.”
Ying Chan was so frustrated she could die, her ears and neck turning red.
Only when he saw her flushed with embarrassment did Jin Si ask with a muffled laugh, “What’s the matter?”
Ying Chan forced herself to calm down. “…A friend invited me out to a bar.”
Jin Si made an “oh” sound. “Reporting to me, huh?”
“…Didn’t you say I have to bring you whenever I go out?”
Jin Si added another line. “Well, aren’t you obedient.”
Ying Chan was teased with no way to fight back, and her embarrassment turned to anger. “Jin Si! That’s enough!”
Jin Si finally laughed out loud and graciously stopped teasing her. “Wait in the living room. I’ll change and come with you.”
Then he habitually added one more flirtatious line. “No peeking.”
Ying Chan threw the towel at him, quickly left the room, and—bang!—slammed the door shut.
She stood facing away from the door, speaking irritably. “I just came to tell you. I never said you had to come with me.”
Jin Si’s lazy voice drifted out from the room. “Can’t have that. What if you run into danger at the bar? Who would I take it up with?”
“This is Shanghai, not Gotham City.” How much danger could possibly be waiting for her?
Jin Si said nonchalantly, “In this life, you’re bound to encounter some unexpected calamities.”
“…Are you cursing me?”
“I’m speaking from experience. After all, I just lost my innocence so suddenly just now.”
Ying Chan: “…”
She couldn’t banter with him. She simply couldn’t win.
Ying Chan took a deep breath, summoning the poise she’d cultivated over years of navigating the entertainment industry’s storms.
During filming, she’d seen plenty of male actors nude when the script called for it, and it never fazed her. But this time, she was having a hard time keeping it together.
The man lived up to his bodyguard credentials—his physique was genuinely impressive.
And honestly, compared to an eight-pack, she actually preferred a six-pack.
Ying Chan realized she was savoring the memory, and flushed with embarrassment, she snapped at him: “Hurry up! They’re all waiting.”
Jin Si grunted in acknowledgment, and the sound of a hairdryer filled the room.
He only emerged after drying his hair: “See, I wore matching servant attire with you. Everyone will know at a glance that I’m your man. Good enough?”
Ying Chan was wearing dark brown straight-leg trousers with a beige shirt, accessorized with a brown tie that suited the autumn mood of Hucheng.
Jin Si had likewise put on brown casual pants, a white shirt, and a brown jacket. Standing together, they looked very much like a “couple outfit.”
The heat Ying Chan had barely suppressed surged back up. She licked her lips: “No one needs you to flaunt your position. Stop adding drama to your role.”
She strode out quickly. “You’re driving, so no drinking once we’re there.”
Jin Si followed close behind: “Going to a bar and not allowed to drink? Boss sure knows how to torment people.”
Ying Chan ignored him.
When they arrived at the bar, Ying Chan spotted Yue Jingchun from a distance.
That guy was always the most over-the-top peacock in any room—his hair dyed pink, wearing a pink shirt, looking like a showy flower.
Yue Jingchun spotted her too and immediately stood on the sofa, waving: “Little sis! Over here!”
He’d pushed several sofa sets together into one massive booth. There were at least twenty people here. Ying Chan was astounded: “You’re celebrating your ten-thousandth day of life like it’s your eightieth birthday. I’m afraid you won’t survive the celebration.”
“Watch your mouth! Your Chun-ge is going to live a hundred years to protect you for life!”
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
Ying Chan sat down and scanned the crowd—some faces she recognized, some she didn’t.
Yue Jingchun leaned in: “Why didn’t Ye Han come?”
Ying Chan told the truth: “She said if she came, your celebration might not happen at all, so she decided not to.”
Yue Jingchun clicked his tongue: “I invited Brother Bai too, but he’s on a business trip to the capital. You and I are both miserable souls.”
Ying Chan was speechless: “Don’t misuse idioms if you’re illiterate.”
Yue Jingchun handed her a low-alcohol drink and pushed a snack platter toward her, then jutted his chin toward the corner: “Who’s that cool guy?”
Ying Chan glanced at Jin Si, who was sitting in the corner spot wearing a mask: “My bodyguard.”
“Pretty aloof. Tell him to take off the mask and eat and drink freely—we’re all friends here, no need to be shy.”
Ying Chan knew Jin Si didn’t like showing his face, so she brushed it off: “He’s allergic to alcohol. You don’t need to bother with him.”
So Yue Jingchun left him alone and pulled Ying Chan into eating, drinking, and having fun.
Over in the corner, Jin Si sat with his legs crossed, head down, playing on his phone.
The bar’s lighting was dim and disorienting, and since he was in a corner spot, almost no one noticed him.
On the same long sofa where he sat, there were two girls who thought no one could hear them, so they huddled together gossiping:
“Who is she? Why is Young Master Yue treating her so well?”
The other person was incredulous: “You don’t recognize Ying Chan?”
“The big star Ying Chan??” The woman in the bodycon skirt looked more carefully. “Damn, it really is her. She’s not wearing makeup, so she looks a bit different from on TV—I almost didn’t recognize her. They’re friends?”
The short-haired woman whispered: “Young Master Yue is friends with Young Master Shang, so they’re friends too.”
The woman in the bodycon skirt: “The internet says Ying Chan is Young Master Shang’s woman. Is that true or false?”