At the TV station’s broadcasting studio.
Wen Yan was buried in her work, rushing a news draft.
She typed the final word and hit send to her editor, whose relentless deadline reminders felt like a death knell.
Done!
She stretched her aching neck and, noticing the cameraman was still tidying up the equipment, stepped forward to lend a hand.
The station had recently launched a new expert interview program. Today was the recording of the first episode, and the leadership was placing great importance on it, arranging for everyone to attend and observe.
Since she would likely be responsible for the follow-up derivative interviews, she needed to take this opportunity to familiarize herself with the guest.
Nearby, the interns were chirping over the guest’s profile. “Sister Yan, look! He’s so handsome.”
Wen Yan smiled, not taking it to heart.
The guest originally scheduled for today’s recording was an elderly gentleman; she had already memorized his curriculum vitae by heart.
However, an hour ago, the station had suddenly issued a notice stating there would be a last-minute replacement. She hadn’t even had time to flip through the new guest’s personal information.
One of the interview guests was a young, handsome man whom the interns had been obsessing over for days, hoping to see him in person.
Judging by their reaction, the replacement must be that man.
But Wen Yan cared more about the interviewee’s professional capabilities; that was what determined whether she could write an excellent report.
As for his looks, they were irrelevant.
Just then, the cameraman handed her a microphone. “Sister Yan, sorry to bother you, but could you help the guest put this on? I need to go check the audio settings.”
“No problem.”
Just as Wen Yan took the microphone, a sudden commotion broke out nearby.
The interview guest was walking in, surrounded by a crowd of station executives. Wen Yan glanced over but could only see a tall, upright figure; she couldn’t see his face.
The man wore a well-tailored black British-style suit, his pace leisurely yet radiating an imposing aura.
Judging by his build alone, he was indeed striking, but that was all.
In a place like a TV station, there was never a shortage of beautiful men and women.
“Look, look! That presence… even the big bosses look like mere assistants next to him.”
Xia Qing, Wen Yan’s work partner, leaned in close, her voice low and buzzing with excitement.
Accustomed to Xia Qing’s fangirling, Wen Yan gave a helpless smile and walked toward the stage where the leaders had gathered, microphone in hand.
The fanfare seemed a bit excessive. No matter how famous he was, there was no need for so many executives to fawn over him.
In particular, the Deputy Station Director’s voice was thick with respect. “Dr. Xie, please wait a moment. The interview will begin shortly.”
Wen Yan froze.
Three years had passed, but her heart still skipped a beat when she heard that surname.
“You’re too poor. I was just playing with you.”
Three years ago in Europe, Wen Yan had left Xie Cheng with those words and a stack of cash, declaring their breakup.
At the time, she had been forced to return to China for an arranged marriage.
She firmly believed Xie Cheng would eventually distinguish himself, and that money was intended to repay his kindness to her.
She thought she had long since moved on, yet a single surname was enough to cause ripples in her heart.
Wen Yan pulled her thoughts back, squeezed through the crowd, and approached the guest to clip on the microphone.
He was truly tall. She didn’t intentionally look up, so her limited field of vision missed the “handsome face” the interns were raving about.
“Is this reporter’s surname Wen?”
The man’s cold voice dropped from above her head, interrupting her movements.
How could it be…
Wen Yan snapped her head up and met the man’s sharp eyes. Her breath hitched.
Xie Cheng?
It was actually him.
How could it be him?
“Yes. Good afternoon, Dr. Xie. Is there anything I can help you with?”
She forced herself to speak calmly, though her mind was in a total mess.
Wasn’t he supposed to be abroad?
“The microphone is too loose.”
Xie Cheng’s tone was flat, devoid of any emotion.
“I’m sorry.”
After Wen Yan readjusted it for him, she quickly retreated below the stage.
The interview began shortly. Faced with the host’s somewhat pointed questions, Xie Cheng remained composed throughout.
As Wen Yan listened, she gradually drifted into a daze.
Under the spotlights.
The man had broad shoulders and long legs, his lines sharp and powerful.
Just like before, no matter where he went, he was the center of attention.
His appearance hadn’t changed much, but his temperament had become more aloof.
Especially when he looked at her; his gaze was frighteningly cold.
Three years apart felt like a lifetime.
It was good. The famous Dr. Xie had achieved success and fame. He no longer had to endure the wind and rain, gnawing on bread while rushing between school and part-time jobs.
Beside her, Xia Qing sighed in a low voice. “Isn’t he stunning? I heard he’s still single. That waist looks like it has some real power in it; I wonder who’s lucky enough to date him.”
His waist was indeed powerful. Wen Yan knew that better than anyone.
She remembered their four years of studying abroad in Europe—how they had been entwined in their rented room day and night.
Even though Xie Cheng had classes and jobs, he always seemed to have endless energy, always insatiable.
Her fingertips had once dug into his back and his waist, feeling the strength hidden beneath his firm muscles.
Her kisses had touched his lips and his Adam’s apple, craving the warmth radiating from his robust body.
Back then, they would embrace in bed, stroking each other’s skin.
They had smiled and promised that even in old age, they would never lose their attraction to each other’s aging faces and bodies.
The magnetic voice on stage overlapped with her memories. The bright lights fell on Xie Cheng; from his hair to his accessories, everything about him displayed meticulous perfection.
He was still him, yet he was no longer the man he used to be.
Xia Qing continued her dazed giggling. “His legs are longer than my life. He must be 1.9 meters tall, right?”
“1.86 meters,” Wen Yan blurted out.
Xie Cheng had great proportions, making him look taller than his actual height.
“How do you know?”
“Uh… I have a good eye for measurements.”
Wen Yan gave a dry laugh to brush it off, withdrawing her bitter yet admiring gaze.
Fortunately, Xia Qing didn’t press further. She pointed at Wen Yan’s lit-up phone screen and snickered. “As a ‘married’ woman, stop staring. Your husband is calling to check up on you.”
“Don’t talk nonsense, we aren’t married yet.”
Wen Yan chided her softly. She stood up quietly and stepped out of the studio to answer the call.
“Siye, I’m at work. Is something wrong?”
“My childhood friend has returned to the country. Everyone is hosting a welcome dinner for him tonight. You should come along and meet him.”
Qi Siye’s tone was cheerful, full of anticipation.
“Who is it?” Wen Yan asked curiously.
They had been engaged for over two years, and she had met almost all of Qi Siye’s close friends.
“The young master of the Xie family from Nancheng. You probably don’t know him.”
The Xie family of Nancheng was both prominent and mysterious.
The family patriarch was an old revolutionary commander; the eldest son held a position in the central government, and the younger son had founded an internet company ranked among the world’s top one hundred.
Such a top-tier wealthy family was not something one could associate with simply by having money. Wen Yan indeed had no opportunity to know them.
Her father had once tried to curry favor with them, but despite his best efforts, he had only managed to meet their driver.
Wen Yan agreed. She hung up and turned around, not noticing someone was directly in front of her. She crashed into a broad chest, and her phone instantly slipped from her hand.
“Reporter Wen, be careful.”
The familiar voice pierced through her eardrums as a large hand steadily caught her phone.
Wen Yan’s heart tightened. She instinctively took two steps back to create distance.
“Thank you.”
She reached out for the phone, her fingertips trembling slightly.
Xie Cheng didn’t hand it over. He looked at her with deep, dark eyes. “Are you that afraid of me?”
“Dr. Xie, it’s chilly out here. Please return my phone.”
Wen Yan lifted her face, offering a polite, shallow smile.
It wasn’t fear, exactly—just the tension of a sudden reunion after a long absence.
Xie Cheng said nothing, his icy gaze locking onto her.
Wen Yan didn’t flinch, her hand remaining stubbornly outstretched.
During the stalemate, Xia Qing walked out of the studio.
She looked at the two of them in surprise, walked to Wen Yan’s side, and asked with a smile, “Does Dr. Xie know our Wen Yan?”
Xie Cheng’s eyes darkened. He coldly spat out three words: “I don’t.”
With that, he stuffed the phone into Wen Yan’s hand and strode away.
Wen Yan watched his retreating back and forced a bitter smile.
Not knowing each other was for the best. They were meant to go their separate ways.
She was the one who had wronged him back then. If he could let it go, it was a good thing for both of them.
“What did Dr. Xie say to you?” Xia Qing asked gossippily.
“Nothing. I dropped my phone, and he helped me pick it up.”
“What a waste. Connecting with Dr. Xie would be a top-tier networking opportunity. He was highly sought after abroad, and since returning a month ago, he’s turned down so many interviews just to come to our station.”
Xia Qing sighed with regret, wishing she had asked for his WeChat earlier.
Wen Yan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You’re so healthy; I guarantee you’ll never need that kind of connection in your life.”
“True! From your mouth to God’s ears. Tonight’s my treat, let’s go get hotpot.”
Xia Qing beamed, her mood changing as fast as the weather.
Wen Yan shrugged regretfully. “I have plans tonight. I’ll take a rain check.”
How strange. For three years, she hadn’t encountered a single person named Xie, yet today they were coming in clusters.
Still, as long as it wasn’t someone named Xie Cheng, she was fine meeting anyone.