Chapter15

That hidden and suggestive item suddenly falling between them made the atmosphere turn eerily quiet.

That sliver of guarded intent was abruptly exposed before Meng Fanchuan, and Cen Zhen was utterly mortified. Even if he had something in mind, he hadn’t said a word so far. Now that he discovered she had brought it of her own accord, it made her look like the one who couldn’t wait.

Only now did Cen Zhen realize that despite four years of acting training, she still couldn’t pretend to be calm in such an awkward moment.

She lowered her head, trying to pick it up and act as though nothing had happened, but Meng Fanchuan was a step faster and picked up the foil packet.

...The scene became even more awkward.

Cen Zhen pressed her lips together, wanting to say something, but truly had no idea what she could possibly say. Things had come to this—maybe it was better to just lay everything out in the open. After all, it was just that thing between men and women. They were adults. No need to be coy.

“I—”

“I can see Miss Cen and her boyfriend are very close.”

A cool voice interrupted from across the room before she could get a word out.

Cen Zhen froze, momentarily not understanding. “What?”

Meng Fanchuan didn’t look at her again. He walked to the bar counter to pour himself a drink, his back to her, voice oddly cold. “So that’s the explanation he gave you last night?”

Cen Zhen stood still for a few seconds before finally realizing—Meng Fanchuan seemed to think this was something she used with Song Wang.

But how did he know about her relationship with Song Wang?

She was surprised for only a moment before letting it go. What she thought of as a secret was probably something Meng Fanchuan could dig up with the flick of a finger.

In front of him, she had no secrets at all.

“No,” Cen Zhen didn’t want to hide it, nor did she need to—especially since this had nothing to do with Song Wang. “He and I... broke up.”

Meng Fanchuan paused. A subtle emotion flashed in his eyes as he turned to look at her. “Broke up?”

Cen Zhen nodded and held out the contract, already stamped with her fingerprint. “So please rest assured, Young Master Meng. Whether it’s the promotional film or Director Xie’s upcoming movie, I’ll give it my all.”

That “rest assured” was not only a statement of her determination to focus solely on her career—it was also a message to Meng Fanchuan. Since she was bold enough to set conditions, she had clearly come fully prepared.

Meng Fanchuan leaned against the liquor cabinet and took a sip of the drink he’d just poured. Only after setting the glass down did he calmly point at the condom and ask, “Then what did you bring this for?”

“……”

Cen Zhen was caught off guard, the awkwardness once again creeping across her face in a faint blush. She opened her mouth, and after a long pause, finally forced out, “I... bought a bottle of water on the way.”

Meng Fanchuan stared steadily at her.

“...When I paid, the cashier said that brand was doing a promotion, and every customer got a sample. I just grabbed one without thinking.”

Cen Zhen couldn’t believe she’d just made up such a clumsy yet vaguely plausible excuse in under a minute.

“Is that so.” Meng Fanchuan gave a faint laugh. He picked up the packet between his fingers and examined it with an unreadable expression. “You even got a large size.”

Cen Zhen: “……”

There are different sizes?

She didn’t know. She really didn’t.

But now she was at a total loss for words. All she could do was awkwardly hide her embarrassment, praying this farce would end as soon as possible.

“If Young Master Meng has nothing else, I’ll head back now.”

“You can—however—”

Cen Zhen’s heart skipped a beat.

“The mountain road is still under emergency repair. The earliest it’ll reopen is tomorrow. If Miss Cen gets severe motion sickness on boats—” Meng Fanchuan paused and glanced at her, “you may stay here for the night.”

Cen Zhen froze. The heart that had been tense since she walked in… finally gave up.For adult men and women, spending the night together in a relationship like theirs—what it meant, she probably understood.

Some conditions could be spoken aloud, but some could only be understood through mutual unspoken agreement.

Not to mention… her extra-large condom had already made its debut.

With the prop in place, the actors would naturally follow suit.

Cen Zhen knew that this deal had already begun the moment they both signed those two contracts. She lowered her head, closed her eyes briefly, then calmly accepted, “Then I’ll trouble you.”

Meng Fanchuan called for the person waiting outside and instructed, “Take Miss Cen to the guest room on the third floor to rest.”

“Yes.” The servant was extremely courteous. “Miss Cen, this way please.”

And just like that, Cen Zhen was led to the third floor of the villa. Another maid, who had evidently been informed in advance, thoughtfully brought her brand-new change of clothes and asked gently, “Does Miss Cen have a preferred scent?”

Cen Zhen only found out later that the Meng family employed a dedicated perfumer—for everything from the air fresheners in the room, to toiletries, even down to a pack of tissues, there were dozens of custom scent blends to choose from based on preference.

Once again, her understanding of luxury was thoroughly redefined.

Cen Zhen politely declined the maid’s offer, returned to her room alone, and quietly leaned against the door, taking in the completely unfamiliar space.

She had no idea what would happen tonight. After a long pause, she took a deep breath, grabbed her change of clothes, and went to shower.

When she came back out, it was just past 8 p.m.—not too early, not too late. Cen Zhen lay down on the bed, still feeling as if everything that had happened today was a dream.

Yesterday, she had nothing. Today, she held two contracts and had become the only signed artist of the entertainment industry’s most resource-rich company.

Cen Zhen was someone with strong follow-through. From childhood to now, she had always been decisive—whether choosing her academic path, breaking up, or now, accepting the olive branch extended by Meng Fanchuan. The future was uncertain, but she would treat it as a gamble—

She hadn’t regretted the paths she chose before, and she hoped this one would be the same.

By the time it was nine o'clock, nothing had happened.

Cen Zhen wasn’t sleepy yet, so she scrolled through Weibo to pass the time. The trending topic about Song Wang and Jiang Yuan was still lingering, not at the top anymore, but clinging to the end—still warm. Cen Zhen just swiped past without a glance. Right then, Qiao Tingting messaged her.

“Babe, did that little shit Song Wang explain anything to you? What’s going on?”

Cen Zhen knew Qiao Tingting must have been worried about her the whole time and replied: “We broke up.”

Qiao Tingting sent a string of ellipses, but quickly followed up with a celebratory flower emoji, as if cheering: “Good! Congrats to my gorgeous girl for returning to single life!”

There was endless tacit understanding between Cen Zhen and Qiao Tingting. Back when she’d chosen Song Wang, Qiao Tingting had already questioned whether they were a good match. She always said Song Wang was too ambitious—and overly ambitious men would never prioritize love. But at the time, Cen Zhen had been moved by his persistence over four years. Naively, she thought—who doesn’t have ambition?

She had it too.

Back in university, Cen Zhen had decided: she wanted to become the highest-grossing actress in China.

She wanted to stand at the very top, at the peak of brilliance.

But now, reality had smacked her hard.

Maybe sensing her mood, Qiao Tingting said again: “Are you home alone? If you're bored, wanna go out for late-night snacks?”

Cen Zhen was just about to reply when a knock came from the door outside.

—9:25 p.m.

Cen Zhen immediately turned off her phone and sat upright, her heartbeat racing, her hands unconsciously digging into the mattress.

He came?

He finally came.

After several deep breaths to calm herself, Cen Zhen got up and walked to the door. Her hand hovered on the bronze doorknob, paused again and again, and finally turned it open.

…Sure enough, it was Meng Fanchuan.

Cen Zhen did her best to keep her breathing steady. “It’s late, Young Master Meng. Is something the matter?”

Meng Fanchuan stood outside with his hands in his pockets. His hair, slightly damp earlier, was now fully dry. Even without stepping inside, his presence pressed down on her like a heavy tide.

“Are you comfortable staying here?” he asked casually at first.

Cen Zhen answered politely, “It’s very nice here. Thank you.”

She had just taken a bath, and the exposed skin glowed with a delicate blush. A faint fragrance drifted from her body, teasing the tip of the nose.Meng Fanchuan’s gaze fell on her for a few seconds before he calmly looked away. “I forgot to mention—actually, there’s still something I want from Miss Cen.”

His tone gave nothing away, making it impossible for Cen Zhen to guess his intentions. But for a man to come find her this late at night, even a fool would know what he probably meant.

Cen Zhen wasn’t some naïve girl. Her face warmed slightly as she moved aside. “Come in, then.”

But to her surprise, Meng Fanchuan didn’t move. “No need. Saying it here is fine.”

Cen Zhen was momentarily stunned, then heard him continue: “The photos taken on the little terrace at Hua Manor last time—if it’s convenient for Miss Cen, send me a copy.”

“...?”

Cen Zhen racked her brain and still couldn’t believe that Meng Fanchuan had come all this way in the middle of the night just to ask for the photos where he’d been captured in the background. She stood dumbfounded at the door. Even after he said goodnight and left, it took her a while to recover. Back in her room, still dazed, she picked up her phone and messaged Qiao Tingting:

“...Can someone be P'd back into a photo after you’ve already P’d them out?”

After sending the message, Cen Zhen sat in the empty room, suddenly engulfed by a wave of confusion.

He brought her here, had her stay the night—but did nothing. What exactly was he planning?

Playing hard to get?

A long-term setup?

Surely he couldn’t actually like her and be playing some kind of chaste romance game?

Cen Zhen almost laughed at herself. Impossible. Back when Wen Hui asked him in Cantonese, he’d already indirectly denied it.

She couldn’t figure him out—nor could she afford to. She’d seen enough of these wealthy young masters; each one more scheming than the last. Right now, she was just a piece on Meng Fanchuan’s chessboard. She couldn’t overthink it—just follow his lead for now.

Sinking into the soft mattress, Cen Zhen closed her eyes and thought—

This man is way harder to deal with than Shen Zesheng…

–

The night passed peacefully. By 8 a.m. the next day, Cen Zhen had packed up and left the guest room.

As she came downstairs, she happened to run into Meng Fanchuan coming out from the second floor. She gave him a light nod. “Good morning, Young Master Meng.”

Meng Fanchuan gave a slight lift of his chin. “Join me for breakfast.”

Cen Zhen didn’t refuse. In truth, she was hungry. She obediently sat down across from him. The table was already set with an abundant spread.

“Not sure what Miss Cen prefers, so we prepared both Chinese and Western options,” said Uncle Wei, who was helping the servants with the food. “There’s youtiao, pan-fried buns, wontons, and brown sugar soy milk. If you prefer Western, we have bacon, ham, smoked salmon, and steamed broccoli. For something lighter, there’s avocado and soft-boiled egg. And if you like sweet flavors, I’d recommend the coconut cream pie—most young ladies enjoy it.”

Uncle Wei’s voice was calm and fluent, with elegant, old-school manners in both tone and posture.

Cen Zhen was a bit flustered by his enthusiasm. The variety laid out before her was overwhelming, so she simply went with his suggestion. “Then I’ll have the coconut cream pie.”

Uncle Wei seemed experienced. He said girls liked it.

So… does that mean many other girls have stayed the night here and had breakfast the next morning?

As she ate, Cen Zhen glanced at the man sitting across from her—

It wouldn’t be surprising. He was young, had a devilishly handsome face, lacked neither money nor status. Of course girls would flock to him.

While they were eating, a servant brought over a phone and said to Meng Fanchuan, “Young Master, a call from Aunt Hui.”

Meng Fanchuan casually answered it and lazily responded, “You’ve reminded me ten times already.”

Whatever else they talked about, he just gave a couple noncommittal grunts and hung up. Then he turned to Cen Zhen. “After we finish, come to the company with me.”

Cen Zhen was caught off guard at first, but quickly realized it made sense—she was now a signed artist under Zhongshi. Going to the company was perfectly logical.

A new day, and her life was moving in a new direction.

“Alright,” she replied, lowering her head and speeding up her eating.

She had to admit, Uncle Wei’s recommendation was spot on. The coconut cream pie had a rich coconut flavor, light and airy texture, and a sweet crispiness.

—She really liked it.

After breakfast, Chen Xiangan was already waiting by the road outside the villa. He stood expressionlessly beside the car, showing no hint of surprise that Cen Zhen had stayed the night here.

“Good morning.” Chen Xiangan lifted his hand slightly to open the car door for them.

Meng Fanchuan stepped aside a little, gentlemanly motioning for Cen Zhen to go first. She didn’t hesitate and climbed in. The dappled morning sunlight filtered into the car, casting scattered shadows across Meng Fanchuan’s face. As he bent to enter, the sharp lines of his features inexplicably softened.

With just one glance, that strange feeling—at once unfamiliar and familiar—returned again.Cen Zhen found herself blurting out without thinking, “Have we… met somewhere before?”

The moment she said it, she realized how abrupt it sounded. She had always found that kind of opening line unbearably childish—so why had she just fallen into the trap herself?

Before Meng Fanchuan could respond, she quickly interrupted, “Sorry, maybe… you just look like one of my classmates.”

The car fell into silence.

Even though she had already looked away, Cen Zhen could still feel his gaze on her, lingering for a long moment before withdrawing. He said, with a vague tone, “Miss Cen meets a lot of people. It’s normal not to remember.”

Cen Zhen didn’t think too much about his words. She awkwardly cleared her throat. “The scenery here is quite nice.”

Yesterday when she arrived it was already sunset, and she hadn’t seen much. Now, under the morning light, everything was clear: the crimson-bricked British-style manor stood on prime land surrounded on three sides by the sea, nestled at the foot of a lush green hill. Jungle surrounded it, the winding driveway passed through a garden and a golf course, and on a slightly raised slope not far away, there was even a spacious helipad.

“Grandfather’s health wasn’t great before, so the helipad was built in case he needed emergency transport.” Seeing her gaze lingering there, Meng Fanchuan explained.

Cen Zhen nodded but didn’t follow up—after all, they weren’t close enough for her to ask about his family. She fell quiet, then suddenly remembered the pictures Qiao Tingting had sent her late last night.

Tingting had texted proudly: “Lucky I never delete anything off my phone. However you sent these photos to me, I’m sending them back to you exactly the same.”

And just like that, the photos Cen Zhen had painstakingly edited—removing Meng Fanchuan—were now back on her phone, unedited.

A dreamy night, a romantic terrace, her and him captured in the same frame.

Anyone would think it was a fated encounter.

But Cen Zhen didn’t dare think of it that way.

That was Meng Fanchuan—a man so far removed from her world, untouchable.

Encounters like that were never meant for someone like her.

Cen Zhen opened her messages and sent the photos to Meng Fanchuan.

His phone pinged soon after. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him glance at the screen and give a soft laugh. “Miss Cen’s friend is quite impressive.”

At first, Cen Zhen didn’t get what he meant—until he set the phone down, turned to her, and said casually, “Someone who’s been P’d out can be P’d back in.”

…So he had caught on to Qiao Tingting’s slip that night after all.

Cen Zhen’s face flushed. She awkwardly brushed her hair behind her ear and explained, “I just thought…”

She faltered, her voice lowering as her eyes dropped. “I just thought you were too far from me, Young Master Meng. We shouldn’t appear in the same photo—it might cause unnecessary trouble.”

Cen Zhen had never let herself stand on the edge of a cliff. She’d never dared reach for the moon.

When she was clear-headed, she was too clear-headed.

“Far?” Meng Fanchuan’s tone remained unreadable. He smiled, turned slightly to face her, and said, “Aren’t we quite close right now?”

“…”

He wasn’t wrong. Right now, they were close—close enough to have had breakfast together, close enough to be sitting in the same car, and perhaps close enough for something more in the future—

But that was only “close” in Meng Fanchuan’s definition.

Cen Zhen didn’t argue over the meaning of “distance.” She remembered this would be her first official visit to the company, and she was still wearing yesterday’s clothes. She took the chance to change the topic: “Sorry… could I go back to change first?”

Meng Fanchuan withdrew his gaze and told Chen Xiangan, “Go to Miss Cen’s place first.”

“Thank you. But you don’t need to wait for me. I’ll take a cab to the company after I’ve changed.”

It was true she wanted to change clothes—but also, she didn’t want her first appearance at the company to be in the company heir’s car.

Some part of her still stubbornly clung to pride. She didn’t want to give it all up so easily, so soon.

Meng Fanchuan understood what she was thinking. “Whatever you prefer.”

Fifteen minutes later, the car arrived outside Cen Zhen’s apartment complex. She got out alone. As soon as she closed the door, Chen Xiangan continued driving toward the company—but at a red light, he happened to glance in the rearview mirror and immediately said, “Young Master Meng, Miss Cen seems to be in some trouble.”

Meng Fanchuan, prompted by the remark, looked up and saw two figures entangled in front of the apartment entrance.

He frowned, watching for a few seconds. Seeing that Cen Zhen couldn’t seem to get away, he told Chen Xiangan, “Go see if she needs help.”

“Yes, sir.”Cen Zhen had just stepped out of the car and was about to enter the residential complex when a car horn called her to a stop.

She instinctively turned around and saw Song Wang’s personal car parked less than ten meters away. He’d been blocked on all her contacts, so he must’ve been waiting here all along.

Cen Zhen hesitated at her feet—but only for a second or two. After that brief hesitation, she chose not to look back and continued walking into the complex.

Inside the car, seeing her so resolute, Song Wang didn’t care about his own current public scandal anymore. He immediately opened the door and hurried after her in just a few strides.

“Zhenzhen.” Wearing a baseball cap and a mask, he kept his voice low. “There’s really nothing between Jiang Yuan and me. Can’t you believe me?”

People were walking in and out around them. Cen Zhen hadn’t expected Song Wang to be this reckless and tried to shake him off. “Are you crazy? Let go!”

“I called you all night. Where did you go?”

“Don’t believe what those gossip accounts are writing. Most of it’s fake.”

“I admit I’ve been really busy lately and I’ve neglected you. But once I’m done filming this show, let’s take a trip, okay? I’ll go with you, help you clear your head…”

“No need.” Cen Zhen cut him off.

Her gaze lowered. After a long moment of calm, she looked back up at him and said, “We’ve been out of sync for a long time. Haven’t you noticed?”

Song Wang didn’t understand what she meant.

After a pause, Cen Zhen murmured even more softly, “Or maybe… we never were in sync.”

“I don’t get what you’re saying, Zhenzhen. I just know that I love you.”

“If you loved me, you’d know what I wanted most!”

“What do you want?” Song Wang slowly let go of her hand, looked at her, and suddenly let out a cold laugh. “I saw the car that dropped you off just now. That’s not a cheap car. Who is it? Your new flame?”

Cen Zhen was stunned by his mockery, and her anger flared. Without thinking, she shot back, “Yes. So now you get it?”

The words had barely left her mouth when Chen Xiangan walked up to the two of them. He stood on Cen Zhen’s side, his stance guarded as he faced Song Wang and asked, “Miss Cen, do you need any help?”

Cen Zhen hadn’t expected Chen Xiangan to return. She instinctively looked up—and sure enough, the Bentley was parked not far away.

She couldn’t see clearly inside, but she knew he was watching.

It was a humiliating scene, and Cen Zhen quickly shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I can handle it.”

With that, she pulled Song Wang toward a more secluded spot inside the complex. Chen Xiangan watched them go, then returned to the car.

“Is it resolved?” Meng Fanchuan asked casually.

Chen Xiangan replied, “Seems they just changed locations to continue talking.”

“Talking?” Meng Fanchuan frowned. “About what?”

Chen Xiangan thought carefully, recalling what he’d overheard just before stepping in. After a moment of hesitation, he said to the young man watching from the rearview mirror:

“...That man asked Miss Cen if the person who brought her back was her new flame.”

Meng Fanchuan: “?”

Chen Xiangan paused, then answered honestly:

“Miss Cen said yes.”