Chapter 4

Yan Yang noticed that Ruan He hadn’t taken the clay and called out again, “Ruanyuan?”

Ruan He blinked back into focus, flustered. “Huh? What’s wrong?”

She shook her head mechanically, eyes drifting toward the window again, searching for that car from earlier.

But the street was empty—not even a passerby in sight.

It was as if what she saw earlier had been pure imagination.

Lowering her head, she tried to suppress her emotions.

For a moment, it had truly felt like someone in that car had been watching her, too.

But really, with so many cars on the road, it wasn’t like only Shen Peiqing owned that model.

And with her busy schedule, why would she be idling in a cultural district like this?

Yan Yang glanced at her a few times and assumed Ruan He wasn’t very interested in pottery, so she resumed working on her own.

After getting to know her yesterday, Yan Yang had figured out that Ruan He was the slow-to-warm-up type—approach too quickly, and she might scare her off.

Once the clay was ready, Yan Yang switched on the wheel.

Earlier, when she’d boasted about her skills and Ruan He’s eyes had lit up, she’d vowed to use every trick in the book to make something huge.

The instructor came over again, worried the guests wouldn’t manage, but Yan Yang politely declined.

Her hands shaped the clay, pulling it higher and higher—

But the form… was lopsided, teetering, and misshapen—like one of those zombie plants that looked like it was about to collapse.

“Smack!”

One slip of the hand and the whole thing caved in completely, collapsing into a wet blob spinning on the wheel like a 360-degree showcase of failure.

“Pfft—HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Su Yifan burst out laughing without mercy. “Yan Yang, you’re amazing! That is *so* something!”

Yan Yang froze, cheeks flushed as she snuck a glance at Ruan He.

Thankfully, Ruan He just gave a small smile. No judgment, no scorn.

“You—you…” Yan Yang tried to fight back. “Didn’t the instructor help with *yours*, too?”

Su Yifan wouldn’t let up. “I never said I was sup-er-tal-en-ted!”

Zhao Qiaoshi, who had been getting along well with Su Yifan earlier, still had her hands overlapping Su Yifan’s, sculpting their joint creation.

She bumped her gently. “Fan Fan did great—super talented.”

Su Yifan’s grin faltered, and out of view of the cameras, she shot Ruan He a dramatic pout.

That expression was straight out of Tao Tao’s playbook—like a kid forced to take medicine after missing candy. Ruan He could only respond with a subtle, consoling glance.

“Then…” Yan Yang took a deep breath. “Let’s start over.”

She was just about to ask the crew for a fresh piece of clay when Ruan He stopped her.

From her backpack, Ruan He pulled out a hair tie and tipped her head back slightly, gathering her hair neatly.

Her arms were slender and fair, dark hair slipping through her fingers and revealing the graceful curve of her neck. A faint, sweet peach scent drifted into the air—her pheromone, soft and cloying.

With water-dampened hands, she gently pressed her palms to the clay.

The “just a little” skill level she’d claimed earlier vanished. Her movements were fluid and precise—centering the clay, pulling it upward, shaping it in smooth arcs.

In no time, a delicate little vase stood proud on the wheel.

The camera zoomed in to capture its silhouette.

Yan Yang quickly shut her mouth, which had been hanging slightly open in surprise. Her eyes brimmed with admiration for Ruan He.

Su Yifan and Zhao Qiaoshi looked over as well.

“Wow, that’s gorgeous!”

“Now *that’s* what I call talent.”

“Ruanyuan, how are you good at everything?”

Too much praise and attention made Ruan He a little shy.

“I was just trying it out.” She smiled modestly, rubbing the clay from her fingers. “It’s… actually kind of fun.”

The crew soon collected their finished pieces, saying the instructors would refine and fire them before delivering them to the Love House.

The group was then led to a nearby restaurant for lunch.

Yan Yang went ahead and let Ruan He take the inner seat.

She sat beside her, while Su Yifan and Zhao Qiaoshi took the opposite side.

Zhao Qiaoshi helpfully passed utensils to Su Yifan, and Yan Yang followed suit, looking after Ruan He.

Just as she turned, she noticed a smudge of gray on Ruan He’s cheek.

“Wait, hold on.”

Ruan He turned toward her, her voice gentle. “Hmm?”

Under the gaze of those clear, fox-like eyes, Yan Yang’s heart raced, her words catching in her throat.

She pointed. “There’s a bit of clay right… there.”

Ruan He touched her cheek with the back of her hand—but missed the mark without a mirror.

Yan Yang hesitated, then reached out again.

Her fingers approached slowly, almost reverently, as if about to touch the most precious piece of art in the world.

But just as her fingertip grazed Ruan He’s face, a loud crash echoed from the upstairs dining room—something had clearly fallen.

Everyone turned, eyes lifting toward the tightly closed door on the second floor.

Already a little tense and flustered, Yan Yang jerked back in shock.

Her hand flew away from Ruan He’s face—and nearly knocked over her teacup in the process.

Su Yifan jumped on the opportunity and handed Ruan He a napkin.

She pointed to her own cheek as a guide, letting Ruan He wipe off the smudge herself.

The restaurant quieted down again as the dishes began to arrive one by one.

The group made some light small talk. Zhao Qiaoshi finally steered the conversation where she wanted it. “So… we can talk about our age and jobs now, right?”

The follow-cam director gave a small nod, and she jumped at the opportunity. “I’m 27 this year. I’m a small-time actress. The drama I starred in is airing right now—have you guys seen it?”

The other three exchanged glances. Not wanting to embarrass her on camera, they nodded politely.

Her profession gave her a sense of pride. Chin slightly lifted, she turned to Yan Yang. “What about you?”

“I work at my family’s company. I’m 28.”

“Oh?” Zhao Qiaoshi nodded slowly. “Then you’re not young anymore.”

Yan Yang bit her tongue, forcing out a stiff smile. “We’re pretty close in age.”

Zhao Qiaoshi chewed on a green pea thoughtfully. “Well, you know how our industry is—we tend to start later. It’s important to focus on your career while you’re still young!”

Yan Yang clenched her chopsticks. If Zhao Qiaoshi hadn’t turned to someone else, she might’ve retorted: *And yet you’re here… on a dating show?*

“What about you, Fan Fan?”

Su Yifan twitched. “I work in design. I’m 25.”

“Design! That’s so cool.” Zhao Qiaoshi’s eyes sparkled with feigned interest. “Can I wear something you’ve designed someday?”

Su Yifan chuckled dryly, then smiled sweetly. “Sorry, I design for pets.”

“Haha, how caring of you.”

Quick to pivot, Zhao Qiaoshi turned again. “What about you, Ruanyuan?”

Ruan He looked up. “I’m a handmade crafts content creator. I’m also 28.”

“Crafts?”

“Twenty-eight?”

Su Yifan and Yan Yang blurted out at the same time.

Yan Yang was especially surprised. “We’re the same age? You look more like Su Yifan’s age!”

Su Yifan frowned slightly. Her sadness and concern showed in her eyes.

She’d never imagined, watching *Tomorrow’s Starshine*, that one of the most popular contestants would end up a craft influencer… and now sit across from her, filming a romance show.

Soon, that sorrow turned into light teasing toward Yan Yang.

“Maybe *you’re* just aging in a hurry?”

“And didn’t you see that really popular show she was on? They clearly said she was 22!”

“That really popular one?” Yan Yang tilted her head. “Don’t tell me it was *Tomorrow’s Starshine*?”

Ruan He shrugged. “I was on it, but I didn’t make the final cut.”

Yan Yang’s eyes lit up. She grabbed Ruan He’s wrists excitedly. “My idol debuted on that show too!”

On Ruan He’s other side, her hand slowly tightened into a fist. She had a bad feeling about this.

Sure enough, Yan Yang continued: “Shen the Actress—Shen Peiqing. Are you two close?”

Ruan He hesitated for two seconds. No answer seemed right.

If she said yes, it might seem like she was riding Shen Peiqing’s coattails. But they hadn’t spoken since the show.

If she said no, it would feel like denying everything they shared back then—and might hurt Shen Peiqing’s image.

“Ask me!” Zhao Qiaoshi leapt in. “I just ran into Sister Shen a few days ago—we even took a selfie!”

Yan Yang dropped the topic instantly, turning into a full-blown fangirl. “Really?! Can I see?”

“Of—of course!” Zhao Qiaoshi fumbled through her bag dramatically.

Then she remembered—they hadn’t actually taken a photo. That mystery child had ruined her chance.

Su Yifan seemed to pick up on her panic and kindly jumped in to help. “We’re all finished, right? Let’s head out.”

Zhao Qiaoshi bolted from her seat. Yan Yang hurried after. “Can you get her autograph for me?”

“Calling yourself a fan and you haven’t even watched her debut show…” Su Yifan muttered as she linked arms with Ruan He. She glanced at the two ahead and shook her head dramatically.

Ruan He laughed. After a full day of interaction, she realized… she kind of enjoyed watching Su Yifan and Yan Yang bicker.

The moment they stepped out of the restaurant, a familiar scent cut through the air—abrupt and unmistakable.

Ruan He stopped mid-step, head turning instinctively to scan the space.

A faint warmth tingled at the back of her neck. The scent was subtle, but that only made it more intoxicating, teasing out her longing with ease.

She reached up and gently touched her nape.

“Ruanyuan, are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said with a slight shake of her head. “Just checking if I forgot anything.”

—

On the second floor of the restaurant, the eyes watching from the private room were unreadable.

Shen Peiqing sat motionless, her gaze locked on the left-hand surveillance screen.

Her lips were pressed into a thin line as she watched the group leave, one by one, until their silhouettes faded from view.

Long fingers gripped the armrest—so tightly, her knuckles had gone pale.

She reached up and tucked her dark hair behind her ear.

With her eyes lowered, she bit down gently on the inside of her cheek. The pain helped dispel the spiraling thoughts.

When she looked up again, her face was calm once more.

To build hype, the production team had opened a pre-release livestream room. Every panel guest was scheduled to appear, and Shen Peiqing was up first.

Even without posting her appearance in advance, the livestream had already drawn a massive crowd.

She turned off the surveillance feed and looked toward the livestream camera, casually reading the flood of viewer questions.

**“Qing Qing, how do you have time to stream today?”**  

“Streaming is part of the job too.”

**“Are you on a variety show?”**  

“Yes—my very first one.”

**“What’s the show? Will you be on regularly?”**  

“It’s a dating show. I’m one of the observers. But the official announcement will come later, so please keep it under wraps for now.”

**“Is it fun to watch? Any good ships?”**

Shen Peiqing’s gaze darkened slightly, as if remembering something unpleasant.

Her red lips parted, and her voice turned unmistakably cold:

**“No chemistry. I don’t think it’s shippable at all.”**

—

**Opening the comment section now—no restrictions! Come play, little sweeties!**  

**Shen the Actress will mostly exist in flashbacks for now, but she’ll slowly weave her way into Ruanyuan’s life.**  

**Still figuring out the best time to update—aiming for earlier these next few days. Once things stabilize, I’ll let everyone know the schedule.**

*mua~*