After Zhui Ye finished filming his commercial the next day, he left the northwest, while Wu Man continued to stay in the northwest for shooting. Sometimes she would suspect that she had fallen asleep as soon as she returned to her room that night, and everything else had been a dream.

But Liang Zi’an’s occasional hesitant, probing looks made her certain that Zhui Ye had indeed come, and they had spent a secret night together.

On the day filming wrapped, Liang Zi’an drank quite a lot. He called Wu Man out under the influence of alcohol, his face flushed red as he said: “If Zhui Ye is acceptable, why don’t you consider me too?”

Wu Man hadn’t expected him to be so direct. She was both surprised and found it laughable.

“You’re drunk.”

“I only have the courage to say this because I’m drunk.” He slurred, “You and Zhui Ye definitely aren’t serious either, right? It’s just a casual sleeping-around relationship.”

He obviously thought that night when Zhui Ye appeared at her room door, the birthday present excuse was all bullshit—the two of them must have had sex.

He’d thought she was a canary obediently imprisoned in a cage, never imagining she was actually a little wildcat who would secretly taste forbidden meat. How could his heart not itch? Those cautious probing attempts were no longer necessary.

Wu Man froze for a moment, then laughed in extreme anger: “You need to get drunk before you dare be arrogant in front of me, so what would you do in front of Yu Jiaze?”

He said confusedly: “Won’t you help hide it?”

Hearing him say this, Wu Man understood their thinking wasn’t even on the same plane. Scolding him would only dirty her own mouth.

She deliberately said: “I’ll help hide it, but that doesn’t mean it can be hidden. When the time comes, have you thought about it?”

She clearly knew what the pain point was for people like Liang Zi’an—or rather, almost everyone in the industry.

Conceited yet cowardly, wanting to remain popular and successful while unable to control their lower half.

She splashed him with cold water, and he sobered up. Not everyone was like that stubbornly obstinate young man who didn’t know the heights of heaven or depths of earth, who deeply believed he could pluck the stars, approaching her time and again, even though he could no longer get acting jobs.

In a moment, Liang Zi’an patted his own face and said: “I’m sorry, Sister Man. I got confused from drinking. Please don’t take it to heart.” He even deliberately released that soft, sticky Taiwanese accent.

Wu Man didn’t buy it at all, her face cold: “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that nonsense. I also hope you’ll pretend you didn’t see certain things.”

*

After several months of post-production, a rough cut of “Spring Night” had been completed. Wang Cheng notified her that she must come to the screening, so she didn’t linger in the northwest for two extra days. The day after wrapping, she immediately returned to Beijing.

As soon as she got home, Wu Man saw the birthday present Yu Jiaze had left on the table.

A brand new car key.

Her heart felt no ripples. She sent Yu Jiaze a thank you message. After thinking about it, she added another sentence.

“It’s a bit wasteful.”

After catching up on sleep, she checked Yu Jiaze’s WeChat reply: “The new car is not allowed to be lent to anyone.”

Great, so it was using the pretext of giving a gift to remind her about last time again. Just when she thought he had long stopped minding, he suddenly lobbed over a sugar-coated cannonball.

She replied with a dry “okay,” and Yu Jiaze immediately called.

“You’re back?”

“Mm. Just got home, caught up on some sleep.”

“I heard the rough cut of ‘Spring Night’ is out.”

Wu Man froze: “Mm… Are you going too?”

“Of course. I am the producer, after all.” Yu Jiaze said matter-of-factly, “I’ll come pick you up that day.”

“…Okay.”

She hung up the phone and couldn’t help thinking of Zhui Ye. He must also be among the invitees. Just thinking about the scene of the two of them running into each other made her head start to ache.

On the day of the screening, Yu Jiaze indeed did as he said and personally drove to the villa to pick her up.

Wu Man was restless in the car, terrified that when they met in a moment, Zhui Ye would let slip about her going to see him or him coming to the northwest midway to celebrate her birthday.

Yu Jiaze gripped the steering wheel, occasionally glancing at her, and suddenly asked: “You seem very nervous?”

Wu Man nodded: “Of course, I’m very curious about how my performance will be presented in the final version.”

The highest realm of lying was mixing truth and falsehood. What she said was naturally also partly true. Saying half and hiding half made it very difficult for someone to see through at a glance.

Yu Jiaze snorted coldly: “You really are invested in this film.”

The car stopped at the private cinema for the screening. They were delayed by traffic and arrived half an hour late.

Everyone else had already arrived and was seated, with only her and Yu Jiaze’s seats empty, which made Wu Man extremely embarrassed. However, this wasn’t the most embarrassing part.

Sitting next to her empty seat was precisely Zhui Ye.

This meant she would be sandwiched between Zhui Ye and Yu Jiaze.

Whoever arranged the seating was a real bloody genius.

Yu Jiaze, however, very naturally walked toward the seat labeled with Wu Man’s name, preparing to sit down, which would separate her from Zhui Ye.

Zhui Ye glanced at Yu Jiaze and tossed his bag over to occupy the seat: “Can’t you read? This has Wu Man’s name on it.”

Yu Jiaze’s steps halted. His expression took on a layer of shadow under the dim lighting of the theater.

Everyone’s gazes unconsciously centered on these three people. A Cannes Best Actor, an A-list leading lady, and an industry mogul—these three people were more exciting than the movie.

Yu Jiaze calmly surveyed the room in a circle. “Did I say I was going to sit there?” His gaze circled back to land on Zhui Ye. “Other people’s seats indeed shouldn’t be taken. I’m not like certain people who don’t follow rules.”

He shifted his feet and sat back in his own seat, beckoning: “Little Bird, come here.”

Zhui Ye also removed his bag, patting the seat and saying: “Sister, come sit.”

The peripheral vision of both men clashed in the air. Wu Man sat between them, feeling as if one side was blazing fire and the other freezing ice. One side burning her, the other freezing her, making her wish she could shrink to the size of an atom at this moment.

Wu Man couldn’t help but awkwardly clear her throat. Yu Jiaze immediately frowned and grabbed her hand: “Why is it so cold? Do you have a cold?”

She was about to shake her head and say it was nothing when Zhui Ye covered the exposed stretch of skin between her bodycon skirt and over-the-knee boots with his coat.

The atmosphere solidified the instant he placed the coat over her.

They sat in the first row, with countless people behind them pretending to watch the big screen while actually stealing glances at them.

…Heavens above, please let the movie start quickly!

Wu Man pulled back her hand and hurriedly returned the coat, unscrewing the bottled water on the seat and taking a sip: “My throat is just a bit dry…”

Just when she was in deep water and unbearable heat, Wang Cheng finally came out to speak.

Thank heavens. Wu Man looked at him as if seeing Maitreya Buddha, her eyes brightening by a degree.

Wang Cheng held a microphone and exchanged pleasantries with everyone for a bit before getting to the topic: “Actually, this screening is a bit special. I’ve prepared a special little prop for everyone—emotion wristbands. Because you’re all my friends and family, as well as colleagues in the industry, you’re often too kind to me. You swallow criticism about flaws and such without speaking up, and every screening is harmonious and pleasant. I’m tired of it. So this time I’ve brought this little gadget. I’ll have to trouble everyone to wear them during the viewing. There’s a mini-program that can automatically record your feelings, so I’ll roughly know where the editing rhythm has problems. Thank you all for your cooperation.”

As he spoke, he gestured for staff to distribute the wristbands.

Wu Man examined the item in her hands—a black silicone band with a small display screen in the center, like an electronic watch.

Someone in the back row raised their hand to ask: “Director Wang, how does it record?”

“Wearing it on your hand will monitor your heart rate in real-time, and it can also sense basic emotions like anxiety, calmness, sadness, happiness, anger, and so on. The wristband will light up in different colors according to emotions, so I can more intuitively see your emotional changes.”

With his explanation, Wu Man, who was already quite anxious, felt even more anxious.

This wasn’t a screening at all—it was the gates of hell coming to claim her life immediately…

“Everyone also scan the QR code on the back of the wristband with WeChat. After binding it, you can check your specific heart rate values in real-time.”

Yu Jiaze ignored his own and casually took her wristband, scanning it with his phone.

He glanced at her with a half-smile: “Put it on.” While staring at the program on his phone.

Wu Man grew even more nervous. She took a deep breath and reluctantly put the wristband on her wrist.

Yu Jiaze made a tsk sound: “139…” He reached out to grasp the back of her neck, rubbing it. “Relax.”

Wu Man laughed dryly. From the corner of her eye, she saw Zhui Ye had been watching them, and her heart rate climbed a bit higher.

Seeing that everyone had mostly put them on, the lights dimmed and the screening officially began.

On the big screen, Wu Man appeared first.

She wore a drab gray dress, cutting tomatoes on a cutting board. In the pot on the stove beside her, fish soup bubbled and gurgled. The cramped space was full of oil smoke that couldn’t escape. She coughed twice, walked to the window, and pulled open the latch. A breeze carrying moisture rushed into the room.

It was a humid evening. Outside the window, new rain was falling from the branches, coming urgently.

She suddenly remembered there were shirts still hanging on the balcony. Hurriedly wiping her hands twice on her apron, she walked toward the balcony to collect the clothes. The camera didn’t follow her, however, remaining fixed on the dampened frosted glass.

The light on the horizon grew darker and darker. A damp spring night had arrived.

Wu Man watched the title “Spring Night” painted in wet powder on the screen, her restless mood gradually becoming calm.

She felt that what she was watching now wasn’t a film, but a memoir about another version of herself in a parallel world.

This immersive emotion continued until the kiss scene between her and Zhui Ye on the balcony appeared on the big screen and was interrupted.

Because in the dark screening room, a red dot suddenly flashed on and off, making Wu Man feel it was very glaring.

She looked carefully and saw it was Yu Jiaze’s emotion wristband flickering. This indicated that the wearer’s current emotion had reached the threshold of rage.

In contrast was Zhui Ye’s emotion wristband, brightly glowing green.

Wu Man’s wristband, caught between the two, lit up orange—anxious.

The three of them in the first row were like a simultaneously operating traffic light, making all the pedestrians in the back rows confused yet excited, craning their necks to look.

Yu Jiaze’s red light was about to explode in brightness, yet his face remained very calm, even carrying a trace of a smile.

He deliberately spoke to Wu Man at a volume Zhui Ye could hear: “Your reaction to being kissed here is a bit affected. You’re cuter when I kiss you, trembling and curling up in my arms.”

The green light on Zhui Ye’s wristband instantly turned red as well.

Wu Man mumbled a vague response, then heard Zhui Ye also say to her: “Too bad Director Wang didn’t use the take where I passed the plum candy into your mouth. What a pity.”

His voice also wasn’t lowered, enough for Yu Jiaze to hear.

Two red dots competed in the darkness, like two infrared beams guarding a treasure, absolutely not allowing anyone other than themselves to approach.

But Wu Man wasn’t a treasure that couldn’t speak. She was also a person with emotions.

Their tit-for-tat exchanges, discussing the feelings of kissing her with each other—what did they take her for?

Childish and laughable.

The light on Wu Man’s wristband also turned red. She stared directly at the big screen, her head not turning to either side: “I don’t like communicating while watching movies.”

Both sides seemed shocked by her reaction and unconsciously fell silent.

The movie continued. Wu Man suddenly felt a hand reach over from the darkness on her left.

It was Zhui Ye’s hand.

Wu Man’s body suddenly stiffened.

He still looked up at the big screen, his expression calm, but his left hand fingers quietly drilled into her palm, tracing within it.

He drew very slowly. S-O-R-R-Y.

A little ant crawled chaotically in her palm.

Wu Man’s heart suddenly began to sway again, like a swing that had just been played with. His fingers had already left, but she was still creaking back and forth.

And all of this was quietly happening right under Yu Jiaze’s nose.