The more Liang Yan drank, the more dizzy she felt. But Zhou Zhibo never once mentioned the project, dodging the topic skillfully. Seizing a rare chance, she slipped out to sober up. Pressing her back to the wall, she staggered halfway down the hall, her legs weakening. Just as she was about to crouch, someone grabbed her by the collar and yanked her upright.
“What are you doing?” Liang Yan frowned, tugging at her collar to reclaim it—too distracted to notice who had lifted her.
Pressing her back against the cold wall, she panted, hoping the chill would clear her head.
Half hidden in the bar’s shadows, Lu Lincheng kept himself out of sight, glancing at Liang Yan with a slight frown. “Where’s Jiang Mu? Did you come alone, or… for something else?”
Liang Yan felt like she’d run into a meddlesome stranger. She shook her head, stammering, “I’m not here to party. I’m—I’m here to talk. About work.”
Before she could say more, a man approached—one of the assistant directors Producer Zhou had called over. He spotted Liang Yan slumped against the wall but didn’t notice Lu Lincheng lurking in the shadows. Grabbing her wrist, he said, “Liang Yan, Brother Zhou is calling you. Come on, let’s go.”
Liang Yan instinctively tried to pull her wrist free, shaking her head stubbornly. “No. I’m not going. Tell him I’m going home. I’m not staying.”
The man tightened his grip but didn’t pull her forcibly. He chuckled, “We agreed to talk about the project, right? Brother Zhou won’t be happy if you don’t come back. Lots of people want to see him and can’t.”
Liang Yan froze, biting her lip, silent.
He pressed on, “Don’t worry—we’ll personally make sure you get home afterwards, okay?” Releasing her wrist, he urged, “Come on, let’s go.”
Liang Yan struggled a little but finally lifted her head slowly. “I’m sorry, I’m not going. I really won’t go back.”
“I want to go home. I’m already drunk.”
The man’s face hardened. “Liang Yan, don’t make trouble.”
He reached out to grab her again. Liang Yan staggered back. The man glanced over her shoulder and suddenly froze.
Someone was pulling at Liang Yan’s arm. The man turned fully—and gasped, speechless.
“Lu… Lu Lincheng…”
Lu Lincheng held Liang Yan firmly, his expression like a frostbitten mask. His voice was icy cold: “Is that Zhou guy… Zhou Zhibo?”
The man hadn’t expected to run into Lu Lincheng here. He glanced nervously at the drunk Liang Yan, sweat beading on his forehead. “No, no, sir. Please listen, we really just came here with Miss Liang to…”
Lu Lincheng cut him off with a mocking sneer, clearly uninterested in his explanation. Half supporting, half carrying Liang Yan, he turned and left.
The man watched their retreating figures, chills running down his spine as Lu Lincheng’s hellish laugh echoed in his ears.
What on earth was the relationship between Lu Lincheng and Liang Yan?
Liang Yan was practically thrown onto the sofa in a hotel suite with a scream.
The car ride had been a battle, and once inside the room, Lu Lincheng was panting slightly. He’d rolled up his shirt sleeves and stood with hands on hips, staring down at the disheveled woman sprawled on the sofa, his brow tightly furrowed.
“Liang Yan.”
After some struggling, Liang Yan finally sobered up a bit. Rubbing her throbbing temples, she pushed herself up from the sofa—and only then recognized Lu Lincheng looming over her.
So it was Lu Lincheng who’d pulled her out…
She stretched out a pale, delicate finger. “Lu… Lincheng.”
Lu Lincheng, who’d been holding back all along, finally got a chance to speak. Looking at her still-dazed face, he didn’t bother to sugarcoat his words. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Trying to talk business in a bar—and only after you’ve finished drinking?”
“Don’t you know what kind of man Zhou Zhibo is?”
Liang Yan wasn’t sure she fully understood what he meant but gave a nervous chuckle anyway. “I know.”
Lu Lincheng nearly wished he could pry open her skull to see what was going on inside. He laughed bitterly. “You knew he wasn’t a good guy and you still went? Last time you ran into me, this time again—it’s like fate or bad luck. Liang Yan, should I say you’re lucky or I’m just cursed?”
“Last time?” Liang Yan blinked in confusion, looking up at his angry face. She shook her head—her memories from those three years were still a blank. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t recall.
“I’m sorry.” She bowed her head, pain written across her face. “I really can’t remember. I’m… amnesic.”
Lu Lincheng laughed again, harsh and bitter. “Amnesia? Is that your excuse again? So because you forgot, you can make the same stupid mistake twice? If I hadn’t been here tonight, Liang Yan, where do you think you’d be? Huh?”
Drunk and scolded like a child, Liang Yan knew she was in the wrong. Her head drooped lower and lower, almost disappearing into her chest.
The room fell silent for a moment. Lu Lincheng seemed ready to keep lecturing—until he heard a soft sob.
Liang Yan was quietly sniffling, tears streaming down her face.
She wiped her nose with her sleeve, but only made it worse, her tears and sniffles growing louder. “Wahhh, don’t—don’t scold me anymore.”
Seeing her cry, Lu Lincheng gritted his teeth. “You deserve it.”
That broke something inside her. She burst into full tears, her sobs shaking with helplessness as she spilled drunken confessions.
“Do you think being an eighteen-line nobody is easy? Wahhh…”
“Do you think I want to be here? Do you think I want to drink? Do you think I don’t know? But the producer—I can’t afford to offend him, wahhh…”
“You’re so popular, of course you don’t understand my situation. I don’t even have any roles anymore. Before, before…” She hiccupped softly, “I went to auditions every day, running between crews. They’d say I looked right for the part, wanted to hire me… but then some connected newcomer would always snatch the role away.”
“I don’t even know what’s wrong with me,” Liang Yan cried like a flood, her cheeks flushed red. She made an exaggerated crashing motion with her hands. “Bang! And then, I just remember nothing. I used to be miserable but still had roles. Now… now, I have nothing left. Wahhh…”
She pointed at Lu Lincheng. “No, not nothing… I still have this—and your fans…” Her voice cracked. “They come every day to insult me.”
For a moment, Lu Lincheng couldn’t tell if she was truly drunk or just pretending. Hearing her ramble on like this softened the anger in his chest a bit.
He glanced at his phone—already one a.m. Tomorrow was an early start.
Sighing, he helped her onto the bed and resigned himself to wiping her hands and feet with a towel—her version of washing up.
As soon as she hit the mattress, Liang Yan closed her eyes and fumbled to strip off her clothes, tossing them aside. She slept for a while—until she felt the mattress beside her sink down.
Lu Lincheng had just showered, carrying the faint scent of minty body wash.
They were filming at the studio and staying in a hotel with only one bed.
Liang Yan’s memory blurred again.
This scene felt eerily familiar. Last time… it had been just like this. She was asleep alone, and then the mattress next to her dipped as Lu Lincheng returned.
And then… then…
She blushed fiercely and buried her face deep into the pillow.
The next morning, to spite him, she even said she felt nothing.
Lu Lincheng reached out and switched off the bedside lamp. He saw her like an ostrich hiding its head in the sand. “What’s wrong? Headache?”
“No.” Her muffled voice came through the pillow. She held her breath in the pillow for a while, but finally gave in, lifting her head and gasping for air.
Lu Lincheng turned off the light completely, and darkness swallowed the room. He rolled over. “Sleep.”
For some reason, Liang Yan’s mind felt restless—she didn’t even know if she was drunk or sober. Breathing in Lu Lincheng’s faint scent, she suddenly said, “The last time I told you I felt nothing… I lied.”
***