4 – Your lipstick is smudged
“Hangzhou had already entered its gloomy rainy season by November.
Wen Man returned to the country and immediately joined the film crew to start shooting.
The director was somewhat displeased with Wen Man taking leave from the set to attend Paris Fashion Week, but fortunately, she was only a supporting character, and her role in the drama wasn’t particularly important.
This time at Fashion Week, Wen Man didn’t make much of a splash either. In the vast ocean of the entertainment industry, her presence went almost unnoticed.
Apart from Jiang Jin turning the tables on her and landing her on the trending hashtag #ClimbingOntotheAward-WinningActor, no one paid much attention to what Wen Man had been up to.
Inside the Century Hotel.
Wen Man sat at the corner of the round table in the private room, while the photographer set up equipment and clicked the shutter, focusing on the faces of the main leads.
Tonight was the wrap-up banquet for Listening to the Wind’s Whisper, with the crew and investors all gathered here.
Wen Man really didn’t want to come, but as a nameless, insignificant worker, she didn’t want to act like a diva and cause trouble for Chen Yue. Reluctantly, she changed into a black velvet evening gown and attended.
Watching the mutual flattery and modesty around the round table, Wen Man found it all rather dull.
No one paid much attention to her on occasions like this.
She took out her phone and idly scrolled through the screen.
Assistant: 【Wen Jie, have you seen the news on Weibo? The Wen family has officially entered the Chinese market. They just returned to the country and injected a billion yuan in funding to support the domestic market. That’s just too extravagant!】
Wen Man frowned slightly as she read the WeChat message that popped up.
【Isn’t Wen Yanchuan Chinese? What does entering the Chinese market mean?】
Wen Man had never paid much attention to business news. As people in the industry said, she came from a small place, and she didn’t deny it.
That was just her nature—content with enough to eat, she rarely looked beyond her immediate surroundings.
When it came to entertainment industry gossip, acting techniques, or fashion-related topics, she could talk at length, after all, that was her livelihood.
But when it came to business matters, she knew nothing.
Assistant: 【He is, but the Wen family focused on developing markets abroad in the early years. Wen Yanchuan grew up in London since childhood. Wen Jie, think about it—he’s thirty-four now, so that was over thirty years ago.】
Wen Man pursed her lips as she read the assistant’s message, her attention fixated on the fact that Wen Yanchuan was already thirty-four.
She recalled the last time she had seen Wen Yanchuan, and his face once again appeared in her mind.
Wen Yanchuan carried an air of mature steadiness—whether it was the result of years of experience or something innate, Wen Man didn’t know.
Before Wen Man could reply to the message, the director’s deep voice rang in her ears.
“Come on, come on, let’s cut the celebration cake! Wen Man, come over quickly!”
Wen Man turned off her phone screen and hurriedly stood up. “Coming.”
The celebration cake for the wrap-up banquet was specially customized, standing five layers tall and placed next to the champagne tower.
Wen Man circled halfway around the round table. Seeing the photographer taking pictures, she tried to shrink into a corner and wait for him to finish.
Once the photographer was done, everyone was handed a piece of cake. Even if they didn’t eat it, they had to hold it for photos to post on Weibo, creating an image of harmony and joy.
Wen Man stood to the side, like a well-behaved child in kindergarten waiting for mealtime.
Before the cake could make its way to her, someone suddenly bumped into her from behind.
Wen Man leaned forward and bumped into a cake someone was holding. Her black velvet dress was stained with cream, a messy smear that looked quite unsightly.
“Oh! Wen Man, your dress is dirty!”
“That dress isn’t cheap, is it? Hurry and wipe it off.”
Everyone turned to look at Wen Man, their gazes burning as they stared at her. Their eyes weren’t particularly gentle, and their concern wasn’t genuine.
Wen Man waved her hands repeatedly. “I’ll just go clean it up. You all continue filming.”
With that, Wen Man left the private room.
Just as the door closed, she could faintly hear the Director’s cold snort.
“Always up to no good. Even after going to Fashion Week, she hasn’t managed to achieve anything.”
Wen Man felt no particular emotion upon hearing this, only that the oppressive atmosphere had lifted for a moment.
Outside the restroom.
Wen Man cupped some water from the sink and gently dabbed at her dress.
But the cream had spread over a large area, and in the stuffy heat of the air conditioning, it had already dried somewhat, clinging stubbornly to the fabric and refusing to come off.
Wen Man carefully rubbed with both hands, but she couldn’t completely remove the cream stain.
Feeling frustrated, she reached for more water, but the faucet refused to produce any. She stood there, hands cupped as if begging, her wide eyes staring blankly in disbelief.
After a moment, still no water came. Wen Man dragged her dress over to the next faucet, preparing to reach for the sensor.
But the next second, the stubbornly dry faucet seemed to have a change of heart, and water gushed out, splashing droplets onto Wen Man’s face.
Instantly annoyed, her cheeks flushed slightly red as she slapped the silver faucet hard, as if venting her frustration.
Wen Yanchuan leaned against the wall behind her, having watched the entire scene unfold from a distance. He couldn’t help but chuckle softly.
Hearing the laughter behind her, Wen Man looked up into the mirror.
The moment she saw Wen Yanchuan, she froze, the scent of cedarwood lingering in her nostrils once again.
Feeling awkward, her face flushed, she let go of her dress and murmured softly, “Mr. Wen.”
Wen Yanchuan raised an eyebrow, unsurprised that Wen Man knew who he was.
He stepped forward, looking at the stain on her dress, and asked gently, “Why are you always in such a state? First it was eggs, and now… what is this?”
Wen Man lowered her eyes to the unrecognizable mess she had washed and replied quietly, “Cream.”
Wen Yanchuan’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. His gaze seemed to notice something, and he instinctively raised his hand toward Wen Man’s cheek.
Halfway there, he paused, his fingers curling before he lowered his hand again.
For a moment, he felt a flicker of surprise. Despite all the gentlemanly etiquette he had learned since childhood, it seemed to have momentarily deserted him, nearly leading him to such an improper gesture.
Wen Yanchuan hesitated briefly before saying, “On the side of your face, there’s cream.”
Just a tiny bit, caught in the hair near her temple.
Wen Man was startled and quickly reached up to touch the side of her face.
Her movements were flustered, even a bit “wild,” showing no mercy to her delicate face. In her haste, the bright red lipstick on her lips smeared messily across her cheek.
Wen Yanchuan lowered his gaze, watching Wen Man’s actions, his posture stiffening slightly.
His gaze was deep, unconsciously fixed on Wen Man’s red lips. The lighting was dim, with only a small lamp overhead casting its glow. He could even make out the fine details of her lips. His fingers, tucked inside his coat pocket, subtly traced the outline of her mouth.
Wen Man unconsciously looked up and asked Wen Yanchuan, “Is there more?”
Perhaps Wen Yanchuan’s gaze was too intense, Wen Man shrank back slightly. Her previously leaning body slowly retreated, and she touched her cheek. “What’s wrong?”
Wen Yanchuan snapped back to reality, shifting his gaze away. Then, he closed his eyes briefly before reopening them, his eyes deep and his voice low and heavy.
“Your lipstick is smudged.”