Today, Shen Yuchen went out to discuss a collaboration, and Yu Yan barely had the chance to chat with him all day.

Around six in the evening, Yu Yan arrived at Fang Chi’s restaurant and met Zhao Han.

Unlike her glamorous attire at the previous ball, Zhao Han was dressed sharply today, carrying a heavy-looking handbag.

“Sorry I’m late.” Yu Yan handed her the menu. “Ladies first.”

“No, I was early.” Zhao Han didn’t beat around the bush. After ordering a few dishes and passing the menu to the waiter, she remarked, “I heard from your aunt that you’ve been busy with a relationship lately. I hope I’m not intruding.”

Yu Yan shook his head politely. “Not at all. It’s an honor to have dinner with you.”

After some small talk, the food began to arrive.

Zhao Han got straight to the point. “I heard from your aunt that you’re investing in a film?”

“I am. I’m currently in the planning stages, but I don’t have much experience in this field, so I’ve been seeking advice from industry insiders,” Yu Yan said candidly.

Since the start of the new year, Yu Yan had been appearing more frequently in Jiang Mo’s social circles—sometimes even more than Yu Chen. It wasn’t surprising that Zhao Han knew about his film project.

“I won’t beat around the bush.”

Zhao Han pulled out two large, thick notebooks from her handbag. The covers had vintage patterns, with worn edges and peeling paint, showing their age.

“What’s this?”

Yu Yan was curious and opened one of the notebooks at her gesture. Inside were hand-drawn design sketches and photos, featuring models and celebrities.

“I majored in fashion design during university and graduate school. Two years ago, I started a fashion brand, but it hasn’t gained much traction. While abroad, I led a team as a stylist for several film crews. These notebooks contain designs I’ve worked on.”

Zhao Han pushed the second notebook toward him. “Whether it’s a film or a TV series, the camera has its own language. Sometimes, things that can’t be expressed verbally need to be conveyed through other means. Character styling is an excellent entry point—it’s as important as the actors’ performances. So…”

She smiled lightly and said, “I’m here to apply for a job. My resume is tucked in the middle of the notebook. Take a look.”

Halfway through her explanation, Yu Yan already understood her intent. Zhao Han was well-prepared.

During her time abroad, she had worked on multiple projects, creating some outstanding character designs. In her hands, every character’s styling seemed to tell a story.

Yu Yan asked, “Are you currently focused on running your brand or on styling design?”

Being a stylist for a film crew is demanding, often requiring full-time presence on set and constant adjustments based on the situation. If Zhao Han’s priority was managing her brand, her team might not be suitable.

“I don’t see a conflict between the two. From what your aunt mentioned, the movie you’re investing in is a crime investigation film. My brand can provide most of the costumes for free, and when the movie airs, it’ll serve as advertising for me—a win-win situation.”

Zhao Han felt slightly uneasy. She needed this exposure far more than Yu Yan needed the free costumes.

Yu Yan thought for a moment. “Can I ask how many people are in your styling team, and how their skills compare to yours?”

“There are about ten people on my team, all highly skilled—you can rest assured about that. Also, if you haven’t found a suitable makeup team, I can recommend one I’ve worked with long-term,” Zhao Han explained succinctly.

The two design notebooks included plenty of crime drama styling, directly showcasing her expertise. Yu Yan was impressed.

But he didn’t agree immediately. “Could we do a trial styling first? If it’s suitable, we can sign a contract.”

Yang Chao and Zheng Zhuo had connections with some stylists and makeup teams, but they primarily worked on small web dramas, and their work wasn’t fit for the big screen.

Previously, Yang Chao had suggested reaching out to Gu Yingying or He Zhiyu for recommendations, but nothing had come of it. Zhao Han’s proactive approach was unexpected.

Perhaps, like others, Zhao Han valued the backing of Chao Xing and Ming Hua behind Yu Yan. With these two major companies supporting him, the film was guaranteed a high screening rate, professional guidance before its release, and significant buzz.

This response didn’t surprise Zhao Han. “Sure, I’m available anytime.”

“Hold on.” Yu Yan checked with the group chat, and most people were available. “Is the day after tomorrow okay?”

“That works for me.” Zhao Han handed him a black business card with gold lettering. “This has the address of my studio.”

Yu Yan accepted the card. “Can we add each other on WeChat? We can discuss the contract details there.”

The two quickly added each other on WeChat, wrapping up the business discussion. The dinner, however, had just begun.

After adding him on WeChat, Zhao Han was a bit curious. “Auntie said you’re in a relationship now, but why doesn’t your Moments show any sign of it?”

“What do you mean by signs of a relationship?” Yu Yan was genuinely curious. Concepts like “rituals” and “relationship markers” were foreign to someone like him, who had no prior experience with romantic relationships.

When discussing business, they focused on their own interests, making the atmosphere more serious and earnest. But when it came to personal matters, the conversation lightened up considerably.

Previously, Jiang Mo wanted Yu Yan to study abroad and had Zhao Han share lots of details about it. Yu Yan had listened with great interest back then, but since he didn’t speak English, the plan was shelved.

“Posting on Moments, of course! Announcing it publicly when you’re together, and posting updates every day. If you don’t post anything, won’t your girlfriend think you’re keeping your options open?” Zhao Han’s voice was light as she casually opened her Moments and showed him two examples.

In short, it was about announcing the relationship to the world. But this method wasn’t suitable for Yu Yan and Shen Yuchen—they were practically in a covert relationship at this point.

Wait. They weren’t even officially together yet! Neither he nor Shen Yuchen had confessed—they weren’t a couple to begin with!

After scrolling through the examples, Zhao Han sighed suddenly, her tone impatient. “My mom just texted to ask how our conversation is going. Why is she still trying to match us up?”

Yu Yan was momentarily stunned. “Pressuring you to get married?”

“Something like that. I took a two-year gap after undergrad before going to grad school, and now she thinks I should get married. Every time she finds an eligible man, she asks if I like him. It’s so annoying.” Zhao Han sounded exasperated.

“Why is Aunt Zhao so insistent on you getting married? Does she want you to have a companion?” Yu Yan was curious about how other parents interacted with their kids since such scenarios were absent in his own life experiences.

Zhao Han shook her head. “Not really. She just wants me to have a child. She’s even suggested I skip the marriage part and just keep the kid.”

“A child?” Yu Yan was taken aback.

“Yeah. She keeps saying things like, ‘When you have a child, they’ll bring you joy in old age, and you’ll have someone to care for you.’ Parents from that generation seem to prioritize children above everything else.” Zhao Han sounded helpless.

The topic of children was something Yu Yan had never considered. He suddenly realized how much invisible pressure existed between him and Shen Yuchen.

His parents were okay with him being child-free, but would Shen Yuchen’s parents be as accepting?

The food on the table was barely touched, but Yu Yan had already lost his appetite.

“President Shen?”

A slightly surprised voice broke through his thoughts. Yu Yan instinctively looked up and saw Shen Yuchen standing nearby.

He subconsciously slid over to make space. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been here the whole time. Someone was just too engrossed in their conversation to notice me,” Shen Yuchen replied with a calm expression, nodding politely at Zhao Han as a greeting.

They all belonged to the same social circle, where their parents and elders were well-acquainted.

Yu Yan blinked in realization. “I got distracted just now. Have you eaten yet?”

“No,” Shen Yuchen leaned back against the sofa.

Although the food on the table hadn’t been touched much, it was already served, leaving Yu Yan unsure whether to have Shen Yuchen join them or order a separate table. However, he couldn’t exactly leave Zhao Han to entertain herself while he accompanied Shen Yuchen.

As he debated what to do, Shen Yuchen spoke up. “Mind if I join you? I had some alcohol earlier and haven’t eaten anything.”

Realizing this question was directed at her, Zhao Han quickly waved her hand. “Not at all, I don’t mind.”

“How can you drink on an empty stomach? At least eat something,” Yu Yan said disapprovingly.

Shen Yuchen’s expression softened instantly, becoming unusually gentle. “I forgot.”

Yu Yan rinsed his bowl and chopsticks with tea and asked softly, “When did you arrive?”

“When you two were exchanging WeChat,” Shen Yuchen replied lightly.

“We… exchanged WeChat?” Yu Yan’s tone rose in surprise as he subconsciously glanced back. It must have been the corner blocking Shen Yuchen’s figure, so he hadn’t noticed. “The WeChat exchange was for work-related matters.”

Zhao Han sensed some hostility from Shen Yuchen toward her and quickly nodded. “Yes, yes, work. President Shen, do you want to order more dishes?”

“No need,” Shen Yuchen shook his head. He took the half-eaten rib from Yu Yan’s plate, placed it in his own bowl, and picked out a new one for Yu Yan. “Don’t eat cold food.”

Yu Yan knew he was upset and reluctantly responded with an “oh,” eating the rib Shen Yuchen had given him. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Shen Yuchen eating the rib he had taken from Yu Yan’s plate.

Without even looking up, he could imagine Zhao Han’s expression.

Zhao Han froze for a few seconds before realization dawned on her. “I didn’t expect Young Master Yu and President Shen to have such a good relationship.”

Shen Yuchen hummed softly, lifting Yu Yan’s chin with a finger. “You’re about to bury your head in your bowl.”

Yu Yan raised his head, embarrassed, and tried to smooth things over. “He’s my boss.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than Shen Yuchen placed a piece of garlic butter prawn on Yu Yan’s plate.

“I can make this too. I’ll cook it for you sometime.”

Faced with Zhao Han’s teasing gaze, Yu Yan had no choice but to nod stiffly. “Okay.”

With Shen Yuchen’s addition to the table, the meal was less monotonous.

When Zhao Han learned that Shen Yuchen had invested in the film, she immediately raised her teacup as a toast in place of alcohol.

After finishing the meal, Zhao Han, being tactful, left first and declined Yu Yan’s offer to see her off.

Well, if the truth was out, so be it. It was bound to happen eventually, and he wasn’t planning to keep his relationship with Shen Yuchen a secret.

But why hadn’t Shen Yuchen confessed yet? Was he planning some elaborate confession inspired by his older brother’s multi-page dating notes?

Yu Yan was lost in thought when a shadow suddenly fell over him. Just as he was about to speak, the passenger seat reclined slowly.

Shen Yuchen stepped over the center console, resting an elbow against the side of Yu Yan’s neck, his gaze carrying a trace of anger.

What was coming would come. Yu Yan’s heart skipped a beat, and he instinctively began to explain. “So, uh… Sister Zhao Han approached me for work. She wants her team to design the styling for the movie. The conditions were right, so I agreed. I figured if this gained traction, it might bring a spokesperson deal for Yun Jing.”

The man across from him didn’t say a word, his anger still evident as he stared at Yu Yan. Flustered, Yu Yan continued, “I was going to tell you last night, but I forgot.”

Shen Yuchen pulled him into his arms, making no further moves, his expression tinged with disappointment. “You don’t have to report to me.”

Yu Yan froze, suddenly at a loss for words.

If he didn’t care, then why had he just staked his claim at the dinner table?

It couldn’t have been mere coincidence that he showed up at Fang Chi’s restaurant, “accidentally” ran into Yu Yan, and then acted in a way that could easily be misunderstood at the dinner table, could it?

“Do you know what I wanted to do earlier?”

Shen Yuchen’s eyes were deep and stormy, filled with emotions clamoring to possess and monopolize Yu Yan.

Yu Yan’s heart pounded like a drum in his chest. His long lashes fluttered, and he instinctively licked his lips. “What did you want to do?”

Shen Yuchen didn’t answer with words. Instead, he showed him with actions.

His lips were as soft as ever, and Shen Yuchen took full control, effortlessly deepening the kiss. Their lips and tongues intertwined.

Yu Yan hesitantly tried to respond, but in the next moment, his eyes widened—Shen Yuchen’s hand had slipped under his shirt!

Today, Yu Yan was wearing only a simple white T-shirt, which made it all too convenient for Shen Yuchen’s actions.

That hand, cold and unmistakably present, left a tingling sensation wherever it touched. The sensation caused Yu Yan to tense involuntarily, his breathing growing heavier.

His back, his lower waist, his sides, his stomach…

Yu Yan jolted awake, hurriedly grabbing his hand. “No… we can’t continue.”

Shen Yuming chuckled softly, “Alright.”

The cramped car interior was stifling, the heated atmosphere tightly enveloping the two of them.

Feeling a bit awkward, Yu Yan gave a light push to the person on top of him, but it didn’t budge. “It’s stuffy,” he explained softly.

Shen Yuming raised an eyebrow slightly. “Should I open the window?”

The car was parked in the restaurant’s lot, where only two dim lights barely illuminated the area, leaving the vehicle mostly shrouded in darkness. But there was no guarantee someone passing by wouldn’t notice something.

“Don’t open it,” Yu Yan mumbled, rubbing his flushed cheeks.

The smile on Shen Yuming’s face deepened as he climbed back over the console into the driver’s seat, cracking the window slightly.

Yu Yan pulled his T-shirt down, hunched over, and said nothing, feeling a bit flustered.

A faint breeze slipped into the car, and after a while, the oppressive heat finally dissipated. Yu Yan straightened his posture, turning his head to find Shen Yuming looking at his phone.

Shen Yuming spoke first. “I have something to do on Saturday, so I can’t accompany you.”

“What are you doing?” Yu Yan asked instinctively.

“Meeting an elder.”

Yu Yan, acting like a lord, nodded grandly. “Permission granted.”

Shen Yuming couldn’t hold back a laugh. “I have a good memory. I’ll keep reporting to you.”

Was he throwing shade about Yu Yan not reporting earlier?

Clearing his throat, Yu Yan deliberately asked, “What’s our relationship? Why should I report to you?”

“Then let’s wait until we have a relationship before reporting,” Shen Yuming replied without pressing further.

Yu Yan’s eyes showed a trace of disappointment as he quietly responded with an “Oh,” not saying anything else.

He wasn’t too concerned about who confessed first, but he could sense that Shen Yuming had been avoiding the topic.