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The night was dim and oppressive, with a black Lamborghini speeding down the road.
Wen Bo glanced at the rearview mirror. Tan Qishen was sitting in the back seat, his face so dark it was almost unbearable to look at. He hadn’t looked this angry even when the company owed him hundreds of billions.
The weak glow from the streetlights outside the car illuminated his face, casting a glaze-like shadow over his features. His deep, dark eyes stared out the window, his furrowed brow showing the suppressed rage within.
Wen Bo could sense Tan Qishen’s urgency and stepped on the accelerator, speeding up.
More than an hour later, they finally arrived in the outskirts of Beijing.
Tan Qishen had come to visit the set as a private individual, without notifying Hu Suling, and the staff had no idea.
There was normally someone stationed a few hundred meters away from the set to prevent paparazzi or fans from intruding. But when they saw the license plate of the Lamborghini, they immediately let them in.
The license plate—A99999—was unforgettable. The last time, the investor’s car had the same plate. In Beijing, it’s rare to see a plate with such a combination, and it was hard not to remember it.
The staff probably thought the investor had secretly come to inspect the work, so they hurriedly notified the assistant director.
Tan Qishen, wearing a black trench coat, walked with a steady pace, though his steps also betrayed a sense of urgency. Upon reaching the set, he found that the scene was eerily quiet. Unlike the time he had visited previously, when there were layers of people, including stagehands, photographers, and lighting crews, this time, there was only a few workers adjusting the equipment. Not a single actor was present, let alone Yan Man.
There was no sign of activity at all.
The assistant director, receiving an urgent call, rushed out of the director’s office. When he saw the man’s face, he was shocked and respectfully asked, “Mr. Tan, what brings you here? Director Hu will be here soon.”
Tan Qishen furrowed his brow and coldly asked, “Isn’t the crew busy tonight?”
Yan Man had told him they would be working late.
Not understanding the situation, the assistant director replied honestly, “We have Sundays off in the evening. Everyone has gone back to the hotel.”
“Off?” Tan Qishen’s voice was cold, and without anyone noticing, his fingers curled into fists.
“Yes, Director Hu gives everyone Sunday evening off. It’s been like this for the past few years.”
Tan Qishen’s narrow, dark eyes betrayed no emotion, but after a moment, he let out a cold laugh.
Well then.
Yan Man had lied to him again.
Just as the assistant director finished speaking, Hu Suling walked over.
“Qishen.”
Hu Suling, although giving the cast a break, had not stopped working herself. She had just been reviewing the footage from earlier in the director’s office, striving for perfection.
“Auntie Ling.” Tan Qishen suppressed his emotions and greeted her.
Hu Suling told the assistant director to leave, and soon only the two of them were left.
“Why the sudden visit?” Hu Suling asked.
Tan Qishen looked at her, unsure if he should say it. Yan Man didn’t want it to be made public, and he wouldn’t take the initiative to let anyone know.
Hu Suling smiled lightly, “Don’t tell me you came to see me again. I don’t believe that.”
She had directed too many plays to count, and she was adept at managing every detail of emotions. No matter how good or bad the acting was, it all boiled down to “acting.” But what he had seen in the director’s office, Yan Man’s reaction to shooting a kiss scene, was something that couldn’t be faked.
The next morning, when he saw his long-time assistant, Uncle Nan, standing near the hotel entrance, he understood everything.
Tan Qishen gave a helpless low laugh. “I can’t fool you. Then I’ll ask directly, where is Yan Man?”
Hu Suling froze, her mind racing.
Could it be that the couple had a falling out?
Otherwise, how could he not know Yan Man had gone home?
Tan Qishen saw her hesitation and said, “You can just tell me.”
After seeing Yan Man hug another man last time, his heart had already toughened.
Hu Suling narrowed her eyes and looked him over, “Don’t overthink. Yan Man took a leave and went home.”
“Home?”
Tan Qishen hadn’t thought of this reason at all.
Why didn’t she just tell him she was going home, instead of coming up with some excuse?
“Yes, she left two hours ago.” Hu Suling told him truthfully.
“How many days did she take off?”
Tan Qishen asked again, self-mockingly thinking that he had to ask others about his own girlfriend’s whereabouts.
“She’ll be back tomorrow night,” Hu Suling replied.
Tan Qishen left without accomplishing much.
But it wasn’t entirely “nothing”—at least he knew that Yan Man had lied to him.
Inside the car.
Tan Qishen held a cigarette between his fingers, his elbow casually resting on the window sill. The car window was open, and the cold wind from the outside swept in, blowing away some grayish smoke.
It was as if he didn’t feel it, with the other hand scrolling through the messages Yan Man had sent him just a few hours ago.
[Baby, the crew is busy tonight, I can’t stay with you / [Pity]]
[Next week, I’ll come back early and make it up to you, okay? / [Kiss]]
Yan Man must have thought he wouldn’t come to the set to see her.
Otherwise, why would she use such an easy-to-see-through excuse?
Tan Qishen narrowed his eyes, took a puff of smoke, and let the smoke float upwards, hiding the dark emotions beneath.
Was there even a single truth in her words?
Tan Qishen, as usual, thought about adding her to his blacklist but paused as he raised his hand.
He suddenly remembered the promise he made to Yan Man last time, not to block her again.
Yan Man was addicted to lying, but he wasn’t a liar.
Tan Qishen switched off his phone screen, pinched the bridge of his nose, and gave a hoarse, low instruction to Wen Bo, “Go to the Fang family.”
“Huh?” Wen Bo didn’t understand. He looked into the rearview mirror at Tan Qishen and respectfully asked, “Mr. Tan, which Fang family?”
There was no one in Beijing who was close to Tan Qishen and had the surname Fang.
Half a minute passed, and Tan Qishen still didn’t speak.
The previous sentence had been said instinctively. Yan Man had really left him confused.
She was the one who had messed up, so why was he the one looking for her?
She should have been the one to come to him and explain.
He flicked the ash from his cigarette, rolled up the window, and tossed the butt into the ashtray. Closing his eyes, he gave a clear order, “Head to Baiyue.”
At Fang Yuan, Linglong Mansion.
Yan Man had woken up late this morning. After the memorial for Tang Qingshuo last night, it was almost midnight, and her childhood friends, whom she hadn’t seen in a long time, had a few drinks and chatted late into the night.
She groggily opened her eyes, and upon unlocking her phone, the first message she saw was from Shen Jie. Yan Man clicked on it, and instantly, she became fully awake.
[Shen Jie]: “Sister Man, I heard Mr. Tan visited the set last night.”
Yan Man sat up in bed.
Tan Qishen!
She had completely forgotten about him after going home.
She opened her chat with Tan Qishen. The last messages were the two she had sent, but he hadn’t replied.
This wasn’t right. If Tan Qishen knew she wasn’t at the set, with his personality, he would’ve questioned her by now.
But now, not a single phone call or message from him.
Yan Man quickly typed a reply.
[Yan Man]: “Who told you that?”
She still couldn’t believe it. Tan Qishen wasn’t the clingy type. Even when she was away for a long time on modeling gigs, he never asked about her.
[Shen Jie]: “Xiao Ning from the wardrobe department was organizing clothes for today. She said she saw Mr. Tan, clearly!”
[Shen Jie]: “But she didn’t dare take photos, just saw Mr. Tan talking with Director Hu.”
…
After reading Shen Jie’s message, Yan Man was almost sure that Tan Qishen had indeed gone to the set.
She collapsed back onto the bed, feeling drained, her thoughts a mess…
Yan Man was 100% sure Tan Qishen was upset with her again.
So… should she try to appease him this time?