The first day on set didn’t have many filming tasks. After the script meeting, they worked on costume fitting and makeup tests.

This was a Republican-era drama. Chen Die portrayed a qipao-clad beauty by the willow-lined riverbanks of Jiangnan, telling a love story against the backdrop of patriotic sentiments.

The theater set featured classical flying eaves and latticed windows, carved beams, and painted pillars, with ornate boats gliding through the water amid the sounds of oars and the glow of lanterns.

Chen Die’s hair was styled in finger waves, tucked behind her ears—clean and neat. With vintage red lips and a floral qipao that showcased her elegant charm, she appeared both brilliantly alluring and resolutely spirited.

When the crew saw her after the makeup and wardrobe were complete, they all remarked that Director Huang had truly made the right casting choice. As soon as Chen Die appeared, the atmosphere and aesthetics of that bygone era emerged through her every expression.

For these Republican-era dramas, casting was extremely important.

If not done well, no matter how meticulously they prepared the costumes and sets, the audience wouldn’t be able to immerse themselves in the Republican-era ambiance.

Xue Mu’s character was a young military officer, a young master born into a wealthy family. His face was fair, his personality smooth and sophisticated, but he also had a fatal flaw of cowardice.

Even in uniform, he couldn’t hide his scholarly appearance, which perfectly matched the character required by the script.

“Cut!” Huang Sheng called from the monitor. “Very good, let’s take a break.”

After half a month, filming was going smoothly, progressing even faster than initially planned.

Huang Sheng and Feng Zhi had different directorial styles.

When filming “Hairpin Flowers” with Director Feng previously, although the requirements for each scene were particularly high, the rest periods were adequate, and scenes were deliberately staggered among different actors to allow them to rest in turns.

But Huang Sheng was a workaholic. Despite his skilled and unique handling of camera work, the daily workload was enormous.

Under normal circumstances, this wouldn’t be too bad. She could catch up on sleep during filming breaks. But Chen Die was someone who had brought a “family member” to the production.

Every day she returned to the hotel exhausted and dirty, sometimes as late as the early morning hours. She had even stayed overnight on set one day.

Without even thinking about it, she knew that with Wen Liang’s temperament, he’d definitely be unhappy.

During the lunch break, Ye Chuqing came to visit the set.

She arrived with much fanfare, directing others: “Here, just put everything on the table, thank you.”

Stacks of boxed meals from a well-reviewed restaurant in the city center.

Ye Chuqing called out to everyone: “Help yourselves, and thank you all for your hard work.”

Everyone knew her as the director’s daughter who now worked in the industry and was close friends with Chen Die.

After greeting several people, Ye Chuqing grabbed a boxed meal and went to find Chen Die.

Chen Die accepted it and said thanks: “Have you eaten yet?”

“Yes.” Ye Chuqing looked at her for a moment. “Have you lost weight?”

“Yes, I’ve lost about two pounds. I was thinking I’d need to gain weight for wearing qipaos, but I didn’t expect to lose weight so quickly.” Chen Die opened the lunch box and took a spoonful into her mouth.

Ye Chuqing waved her hand with a carefree expression: “Just use chest pads.”

“…”

Chen Die rolled her eyes, eating while sending a message to Wen Liang.

[Chen Die: What are you doing, boyfriend?]

Wen Liang sent back a photo of his desk, indicating he was working.

[Chen Die: Haven’t eaten yet?]

[Wen Liang: Already ate.]

[Chen Die: I can finish early tonight.]

After a pause, she also sent a cat emoji.

[Wen Liang: Okay.]

“…”

He was so cold.

She stopped replying and chatted with Ye Chuqing for a while. Then her phone vibrated again.

[Wen Liang: Shall we do it?]

“…”

That night, not long after dark, Chen Die returned to the hotel.

Wen Liang was already there, sitting like an old man on the living room sofa with documents and a laptop in front of him, and a glass of red wine.

“You’re back.”

“Mm.”

“Why so early today?”

It wasn’t early—it was already nine o’clock, and Wen Liang had probably been waiting for her for a while. But compared to the usual early morning returns, it certainly seemed early.

Chen Die felt a bit embarrassed by his question and sat down beside him: “The schedule has been too tight lately. Director Huang gave us a few extra hours to readjust.”

“What about tomorrow?”

“It’ll probably be late again.” Chen Die stroked the back of his hand, trying to comfort him. “But this way we can finish filming sooner. We’re making good progress now.”

Wen Liang snorted softly: “So you’re not celebrating your birthday either?”

“Hm?”

“Tomorrow is your birthday.”

“…Oh.”

Chen Die had been so busy she’d forgotten.

She had never really cared much about her birthday, believing that her birth probably hadn’t made anyone happy, so she wasn’t keen on celebrating it.

Since moving into the western suburbs villa with Wen Liang, he had once seen her birthdate on her ID card. Afterward, he would prepare a gift for her every year, though they were commissioned purchases—expensive clothes or bags.

Wen Liang lowered his head and pecked her ear, whispering: “What do you want for your birthday gift?”

Chen Die pushed him away: “How can you just directly ask someone what they want?”

He chuckled softly, no longer paying attention to the documents on the table. He turned to face her completely, pulled down her collar, and bent to kiss her neck.

Wen Liang seemed to enjoy kissing her there, often burying his face in the crook of her neck, kissing and sniffing—some sort of peculiar preference.

“Don’t leave marks,” Chen Die said.

He muttered an “Mm” in response.

Chen Die thought for a moment, then said: “Just don’t get me the same things as before.”

“You don’t like them?” He smiled against her neck.

Chen Die glanced up: “There’s no sincerity at all. You might as well make me a cake.”

Wen Liang might not have been listening to what she was saying. His breathing tightened, and his hand gripping her neck and shoulder unconsciously applied pressure. His fingertips rubbed against her skin repeatedly, gradually increasing in force. A red mark appeared on Chen Die’s collarbone, and things were slowly heading in an 18+ direction.

At that moment, the doorbell rang.

Chen Die paused, and before she could speak, someone called from outside: “Die, open up! We’re here!”

It was the voice of a female actress from the crew who was on good terms with Chen Die, mixed with the voices of several others.

Wen Liang frowned, looking impatient: “Who is it?”

“I think it’s some of the actors from the crew. They might be looking for me about something.” Chen Die patted his shoulder. “Wait for me in the bedroom, okay? I’ll come back as soon as I’m done.”

Wen Liang’s face was filled with frustration and gloom. He grabbed her hand and guided it to his groin, squeezing it. He exhaled and finally stood up to walk toward the bedroom.

Chen Die’s hand remained frozen in midair for a moment, feeling incredibly stiff.

…How could this man maintain such a poker face?

Now her mind was filled with that sensation, her face even hotter. The door was knocked on again: “Chen Die! Open the door! It’s so heavy!!”

“Coming!”

Chen Die responded, very obediently gathering up Wen Liang’s laptop and documents from the table to take to him.

Wen Liang gave her a final instruction: “Be quick.”

“I know, I know.” Chen Die made a heart gesture with her hands before closing the bedroom door.

Wen Liang smirked, completely unmoved by her cute act.

Chen Die scanned the living room, making sure no masculine items were left out, then ran to open the door: “What—”

She stopped mid-sentence. In front of her were six or seven people, all key members of “A Xiao,” carrying several bags with the logo of the fresh food supermarket downstairs.

Zeng Liya held up a bag: “Ta-da!”

“…What’s going on?”

Before Chen Die could react, the group had already marched into her room: “I sent you a message earlier, didn’t you see it?”

As they entered, one of them said, “Director Huang finally gave us some time off. Your room is the biggest, so we all came to have a hotpot party here!”

Although no one said it explicitly, they all believed that Chen Die was the sister of Yiming Entertainment’s CEO, backed by the entire Chen Group, so no one found it strange that she had a presidential suite all to herself.

Chen Die suddenly realized that what they had brought in wasn’t just a few snack bags but also an induction cooker, sliced lamb and beef, various meatballs, and vegetables.

A genuine hotpot party.

Chen Die checked her phone and indeed found Zeng Liya’s message that she hadn’t noticed.

So…

Chen Die turned her head to look at the bedroom.

She truly felt that she was now someone who was hiding a lover—except that the “lover” in her golden chamber wasn’t exactly obedient and might run out by himself.

“Hey, were you drinking red wine alone, Sister Chen Die?” Xue Mu’s voice brought Chen Die back to reality.

The wine glass Wen Liang had been drinking from was still there.

“Ah, yes. I didn’t see the message,” Chen Die responded casually.

Everyone worked together, and soon the induction cooker was set up, bubbling and steaming, with sliced lamb and meatballs going into the pot.

“Sister Chen Die.” Xue Mu took out some lamb slices. “Would you like some?”

“You guys eat first. I need to go to the bedroom for a moment.”

Chen Die slipped stealthily back to the bedroom. As soon as she entered, she saw Wen Liang with a sullen face. He grabbed her wrist and pressed her against the door.

“Thud!”—

In the living room, several people looked up at the sound: “Did you hear something just now?”

“I think so. Maybe something fell?”

Zeng Liya called out toward the bedroom: “Die! Are you okay?!”

Chen Die quickly replied: “I’m fine!”

Wen Liang stood in front of her, very close, looking down at her with slightly narrowed eyes: “I just told you to be quick, and you brought people in for a party?”

“They barged in, and I couldn’t just kick them out…”

Chen Die put her arms around his neck, stood on tiptoe, and kissed his face, softening her approach to coax little Wen: “Will you be good and wait here for a while? Or you can go to sleep first if you want.”

Wen Liang saw right through her little scheme: “You think I’m so easily coaxed.”

Chen Die kissed his lips again, her voice sticky and sweet: “Then how should I coax you?”

No sooner had she finished speaking than Wen Liang’s kiss descended. Unlike her earlier, fleeting touches, this was deep and thorough, his tongue entwining with hers.

Chen Die couldn’t breathe properly, panting slightly. Her legs felt oddly weak, and she had to clutch Wen Liang’s clothes tightly.

He, on the other hand, was quite composed. One arm around her waist, the other lifting her shirt upward. Chen Die instinctively tried to avoid it, letting out a sound: “…I have to go out soon.”

“Mm.” His voice was hoarse, his movements continuous.

Chen Die didn’t dare look down, but from the corner of her eye, she could see a bulge in his pants below, with the shape of five fingers moving.

He lowered his head again.

Chen Die’s back was pressed firmly against the door. She could still hear the laughter and conversation from the living room and could even faintly smell the hotpot aroma wafting in.

Yet on the other side of the wall, she and Wen Liang were kissing.

Intimate sounds escaped from their lips.

After who knows how long, Wen Liang finally released her. Chen Die’s eyes had reddened from his semi-forced actions.

Having finished teasing her, Wen Liang was satisfied with her current state. The irritation in his heart subsided considerably, and he gently kissed her eyes: “If it doesn’t end by eleven, I’m coming out.”

When Chen Die returned to the living room, the induction cooker was already filled with ingredients.

Meatballs, tofu, and dumplings were floating on the surface of the soup.

They had already prepared a bowl for her. Chen Die had lost two pounds recently and wasn’t under pressure to diet, so she didn’t have to deliberately resist eating.

However, throughout the meal, she was thinking about how to naturally end the hotpot party before eleven without arousing suspicion.

The closer it got to the time, the more nervous Chen Die became.

It was terrifying to think about: a group of people enjoying hotpot, and suddenly a strange man emerges from the bedroom—no, not a strange man, but Chen Die’s rumored ex-boyfriend.

Fortunately, everyone had been exhausted from half a month of filming. After eating, they didn’t continue with any other entertainment. They helped Chen Die tidy up the living room and then said their goodbyes.

It was close to eleven.

…

The consequence of this sudden hotpot party was that when Chen Die woke up the next morning, she almost thought her legs had been amputated.

How could they be so sore?!

And the culprit was still lying beside her, sleeping peacefully.

Because of the need for makeup and hair styling, which took a long time, Chen Die always went to the set very early. Usually, Wen Liang was still asleep when she got up.

However, today, Chen Die’s legs were sore because of him, so she didn’t want to let Wen Liang off easily.

Sitting beside him wrapped in a blanket, she looked down at him for a while, then extended her finger and poked an artificial dimple into the corner of Wen Liang’s mouth.

Wen Liang had very handsome features. Not excessively delicate, but every part was three-dimensional and sharp. Cute attributes like dimples were not part of Wen Liang’s repertoire.

Now, with Chen Die forcibly poking one in, it looked strange and out of place.

Chen Die examined her handiwork and couldn’t help but laugh.

Wen Liang had been awake since Chen Die sat up, but he kept his eyes closed, allowing her to poke at his face as she pleased. Eventually, he couldn’t bear it anymore.

He clicked his tongue and, with his eyes still closed, precisely wrapped his arm across her waist, pulling her back under the covers. He kissed her hair, his voice husky: “What are you doing?”

“I need to get up and go to the set.”

He continued to hold her without letting go, his brows slightly furrowed: “Then why were you poking me?”

Chen Die puffed her cheeks: “Can’t I poke you now?”

Wen Liang smiled, still without opening his eyes, looking lazy and relaxed. Suddenly he said: “Happy birthday, Lingling.”

Chen Die was stunned.

She had so little concept of birthdays that she had only remembered it was her birthday when Wen Liang mentioned it yesterday, and upon waking, she had forgotten again.

“I even dreamed about buying you a gift.”

Chen Die was no longer in a hurry to get up. She lay back down, resting on his arm, and asked: “So what did you dream about buying me?”

“A ring,” he said.

Chen Die’s heart suddenly skipped a beat.

His voice was slightly hoarse with a nasal quality, seductively asking: “Do you want it?”

“How can you be like this? It’s my birthday, but you give me a gift and then conveniently get me in your hands?” Chen Die argued in a low voice. “You’ve calculated this very well.”

Wen Liang laughed hoarsely, his chest vibrating.

It didn’t matter if Chen Die didn’t want to get married so early. After all, in her current situation, having just finished filming a drama and unexpectedly gaining so many fans, a sudden marriage announcement might have a negative impact.

But Wen Liang just wanted to secure her first.

He smiled carelessly: “Then I’ll just buy you one to wear for fun, and I’ll buy you a new one later.”

He made rings sound like toys…

Seeing no reaction from her, Wen Liang finally opened his eyes slightly: “Do you want it?”

Chen Die’s face felt hot.

Although the setting wasn’t appropriate—Wen Liang hadn’t washed his face or brushed his teeth—it still felt somewhat like a proposal.

A Wen Liang-style proposal.

Chen Die could imagine it.

He’d pull a ring from his pocket, not saying “marry me,” no kneeling on one knee, just lifting his chin, cool and arrogant, extending his hand: “Want it?”

…But she still wanted it.

A diamond ring.

It would be quite beautiful…

She’d never had one before.

Wanting one as jewelry wasn’t too much, right?

“…I want it,” Chen Die said softly, then feeling embarrassed, pretentiously added: “It has to be pretty, not some tacky style. Simple but beautiful.”

Wen Liang smiled and agreed: “Alright.”

After Chen Die went to the set, Wen Liang slept a bit more before getting up. He first went to the company to finish the remaining work from yesterday, then went to a cake shop.

He had made an appointment in advance while Chen Die was at the hotpot party—to personally make her a birthday cake.

The cake chef he had booked was already waiting. The cake was on the rack, and freshly whipped cream was also prepared.

A man walking into a cake shop filled with the aroma of milk seemed quite out of place.

The cake chef led him to one side and began explaining. In a corner nearby stood two young women, apprentice bakers who were excitedly whispering to each other with linked arms.

“He’s so handsome! What a cute contradiction! First time I’ve seen a man in a suit come to make a cake himself. We get a lot of male students though.”

“His girlfriend must be so happy! So handsome and so thoughtful!”

“Also, I think he looks a bit like that CEO named Wen Liang who was trending recently, the one pursuing Chen Die.”

“I think so too!! Especially that jawline! It’s so perfect! When did random handsome guys on the street get this good-looking?”

“Too bad one is pining for a female celebrity, and this one is making a cake for his girlfriend. Neither of them are available to us.”

…

Wen Liang didn’t think making a cake for Chen Die by hand was a particularly warm or rare gesture. She had simply mentioned it yesterday, and he came to make one to satisfy her, that’s all.

However, Wen Liang probably had no natural talent for this. The cream piping didn’t look good at all. He ruined several cake bases before finally managing to produce a passable strawberry tart cake.

“Let’s sprinkle some powdered sugar,” the cake chef handed him the sugar bag.

Wen Liang lowered his gaze, seemingly lost in thought for a moment, then said: “No powdered sugar.”

“It would look prettier with powdered sugar.” But the cake chef didn’t insist and took out another box of colorful chocolate chips. “Then let’s put some of these on.”

Wen Liang sprinkled a few chocolate chips.

The cake was packaged and tied with an elegant bow.

Wen Liang took the cake back to the car, secured it on the passenger seat, and on the way back, stopped at a Cartier store to pick out a ring for Chen Die.

“Sir, are you selecting an engagement ring or a wedding ring?” the clerk asked.

Wen Liang: “A birthday gift.”

“…”

Rich people’s birthday gifts—excuse me for interrupting.

Because of what Wen Liang had said to her in his half-asleep state that morning, Chen Die had been thinking about it during breaks in filming all day.

Just the night before, she had told Wen Liang not to get her those expensive gifts like before, saying they lacked sincerity.

Yet in the morning, she had asked him for a ring.

What kind of woman would actively ask a man for a ring…

It was all Wen Liang’s fault. If he hadn’t set a trap for her, asking “Do you want it?” she wouldn’t have asked for his ring.

And without even thinking about it, she knew that a ring from Wen Liang would definitely be big and flashy, radiating nouveau riche energy. Who knew if it would look good…

Filming continued until noon, then it was break time.

Chen Die had eaten too much hotpot the night before and still didn’t feel hungry. She took a few bites of her boxed lunch and decided to go for a walk.

The wind outside was warm.

Chen Die took her thermos bottle, which still had wolfberries from yesterday that she hadn’t washed out. She walked to the outdoor sink to clean the cup, and her phone vibrated.

She put the cup aside and took out her phone. It was a message from Chen Shao.

[Chen Shao: Happy birthday, little sister.]

Today was also Chen Shuyuan’s birthday. Chen Shao probably learned that it was her birthday from this.

Chen Die smiled and was about to reply when suddenly someone covered her mouth and nose from behind.

She initially thought it was a friend from the crew playing a prank and didn’t pay much attention until she suddenly smelled something strange. She then lost consciousness, her legs giving way as she collapsed.

Wen Liang spent quite a while selecting a ring before finally deciding on one.

A classic four-prong setting, simple and beautiful, cut with extreme precision.

Wen Liang swiped his card, took out the ring, and held it between his fingers. Under the store lighting, he could see the light refracting brilliantly.

His gaze lingered for a moment, and then he suddenly smiled briefly.

He could almost imagine Chen Die’s expression when she received the ring—proud yet bashful.

At that moment, his phone rang. It was Chen Die calling.

Wen Liang smiled and answered: “Hello?”

On the other end was a completely unfamiliar voice, a man’s voice with a strong accent speaking in poor Mandarin. He could instantly tell it was a rough person, sneering: “Hello, CEO Wen?”

Wen Liang immediately stood up straight, his expression turning cold.