Lin Yuyan stood beneath the glaring studio lights, sweat beading at her temple as Director Shen barked instructions through the haze of cigarette smoke. The scene demanded intensity, desperation, raw emotion—and she gave it all, again and again, until her knees ached and her voice cracked.
"Cut," Shen finally said. "That was real. That was pain."
Yuyan managed a breathless smile, nodding her thanks.
Outside, her assistant ran over with water and a towel, but her phone buzzed before she could catch her breath.
Zhao Luchen (10 missed calls)
1 New Message: "Call me. Now."
She ignored it.
He had been relentless since the night Lemin showed up. Possessive. Controlling. He'd doubled her security detail, had her assistant monitored, even sent flowers to the studio every morning—lavish bouquets that made the staff whisper.
He hadn't kissed her since the confrontation.
He hadn't touched her either.
But his silence had grown heavier. Watching. Waiting.
And she couldn't breathe in it.
She turned the phone over and slid it into her pocket.
At the Zhao Group tower, Luchen stood at his office window, knuckles white around a crystal tumbler.
He had watched the media spin Lemin's return into a sob story. "Estranged twin." "Wronged by his own brother." "Once fiancée turned sister-in-law."
He watched it all in silence.
His jaw throbbed from where he'd clenched it too long.
He could still see Lemin leaning in toward Yuyan that night—reaching for her like he owned her. And the worst part?
She hadn't pulled away fast enough.
Luchen drained his drink and threw the glass. It shattered, splinters scattering like broken promises across the floor.
A memory gripped him.
Years ago.
He had been at a gala—his father's, full of suits and smiles sharpened like knives.
He'd stood in the corner, half-forgotten, until laughter cut through the room. Light. Genuine.
He turned.
A girl in a pale blue dress was dancing alone, barefoot, because her heels had blistered her feet. Her hair was messy. Her lipstick smudged.
She had no idea anyone was watching her.
She looked like freedom.
Like something he would never have.
That was the first time he saw Lin Yuyan.
Back in the present, he muttered to himself, "You were never supposed to belong to him."
Meanwhile, Lemin played the long game.
He visited Yuyan's set during a break, hands tucked in his coat, his smile worn and careful. "I thought I'd bring you tea. You used to like jasmine."
Yuyan hesitated. The crew glanced at them, whispering.
She accepted it, more out of politeness than nostalgia. "You're showing up a lot lately."
He laughed softly. "Am I that obvious?"
"I don't know what you're trying to do."
He sat beside her on the bench. "Neither do I. I just… missed being around you. As a friend."
Her brow furrowed.
Lemin looked at her, gentle and aching. "Do you ever wonder why everything fell apart so quickly before the wedding?"
Her lips parted. "You left."
"Yes. But someone made me."
She stared at him.
Lemin exhaled, looking away. "There were threats. Someone warned me off. Told me if I showed up, you'd lose everything—your career, your reputation. They had footage. Leverage."
"Who?" she whispered.
He didn't answer directly. "It wasn't a stranger. Someone very close to you. Someone who always plays the long game."
She swallowed hard.
"Someone like… Zhao Luchen?"
Her breath caught. "You think he planned the scandal?"
Lemin looked pained. "I don't want to believe it. But the timing… the way he stepped in, so easily. As if he'd prepared for it."
Yuyan's head spun.
He touched her hand gently. "You don't have to believe me now. Just… be careful."
Before she could respond, a cold voice cut through the air.
"She's always been careful. That's why she won't fall for your lies again."
They both turned.
Zhao Luchen stood a few feet away, his eyes locked on Lemin.
Yuyan stood too quickly, torn between them.
"Luchen—"
"I've been patient," he said quietly. "But if you touch her again without her consent, we'll have a problem."
Lemin's smile didn't reach his eyes. "You always did like playing the hero."
"No," Luchen replied, stepping closer. "Just the man who doesn't hide behind pity and half-truths."
Yuyan moved between them. "Stop it. Both of you."
Her voice cracked.
She looked at Lemin. "Thank you for the tea. I need time to think."
She walked away, leaving both men in silence.
Later that night, Yuyan scrolled through an old folder on her laptop—images from her early career.
Her heart paused when she came across one from a red-carpet event five years ago. She hadn't noticed it before.
In the background, half-hidden in shadow, stood Zhao Luchen.
Watching her.
Not the cameras.
Her.
She closed the laptop slowly.
And outside, her phone vibrated again.
1 new message from Zhao Luchen: "I need you to remember who we were before all this."
She stared at it, unsure whether to cry… or run.
---