After a whole afternoon of exhaustion, Cen Yingshuang should have fallen asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.
But now it was already two in the morning, and she was still tossing and turning in bed, wide awake.
Tonight, she was staying in this overwater villa, in a room beneath the water.
She hadn’t closed the curtains and had left the lamp on, so she could vaguely see the little fish swimming in the sea outside.
No matter how long she watched, she never tired of it. Lying here was pure bliss.
She took out her phone and recorded plenty of videos, sending them to the fourth pinned chat at the top.
It was so late, the other person definitely wouldn’t reply.
Then she opened Weibo, posting some behind-the-scenes photos from the ad shoot during the day, pictures of the sunroom in the seaside villa, Yancai Painting, and the videos she’d just taken.
Caption: [A place I’m already missing before I’ve even left~]
After posting on Weibo, she scrolled through her photos.
The photographer had taken some stills from her diving video today, including the moment she’d encountered a sperm whale.
And even…He Yuzhou’s silhouette.
In the deep blue sea, a massive sperm whale separated her and He Yuzhou. She was beneath a shaft of holy light, while he stood in the dimness seeping from the cliff, facing her.
It looked as if they were both watching the whale, or perhaps gazing at each other from afar.
Maybe the so-called mere-exposure effect hadn’t worn off yet.
She had to admit, the scene of him swimming up from the cliff had stunned and amazed her.
And tonight, when she was picking up her high heels by the shore, the butler suddenly appeared and brought her back, saying it was at Mr.HO’s instruction—because the beach was dangerous at night.
Of course, Cen Yingshuang quickly realized He Yuzhou must have been in the helicopter she saw, even though the butler had said He Yuzhou left early for work.
He was probably on his way to the airport then.
She still remembered at North City Airport, even though she and her fans were blocking his way, he didn’t force them aside, but waited patiently.
At that moment, she thought he was a cultured and gentle person.
Tonight, he seemed even more so.
Her curiosity about him only grew.
So on a whim, she tried searching He Yuzhou’s name on a short video app.
The results were all news about He Group: the current chairman, He Yuzhou, had invested in which trillion-yuan projects, monopolized which ports, made large-scale investments in the United States, and so on…
Other than that, there was no gossip about him at all, not even a public appearance online. Not even a photo of his back.
If she hadn’t met him in person, just reading the news, she would’ve assumed he was a man in his fifties or older—never someone in the prime of his youth.
Unable to find even a single photo, Cen Yingshuang gave up.
It was already three thirty in the morning.
She put down her phone and forced herself to sleep.
***
Landing in New York.
Cen Yingshuang switched into full-on filming mode again.
The palace scenes for the perfume commercial hadn’t been shot yet, so the location was a European-style manor in New York—luxurious Baroque Style design, as splendid as a royal palace.
Once the perfume commercial wrapped, she had two days to shoot jewelry promos and posters, then filmed a handbag commercial.
The handbag commercial was shot in Times Square, New York.
Cen Yingshuang wore a high-end custom suit and a set of the brand’s jewelry, carrying the brand’s newly launched autumn handbag, walking the bustling New York streets with other brand ambassadors.
People came and went, the atmosphere was free and relaxed.
The theme of the handbag commercial was comfort and ease, so she didn’t have to hold back—she could act however she liked. This kind of shoot was second nature to her.
Times Square was packed with people, shooting time was limited, and costs were high. To ensure quality, the American police had to close the roads.
Recently, after Cen Yingshuang went viral on the Cannes Film Festival red carpet, many people came just for her, standing behind the barricades, calling her name.
He Yuzhou sat in the car, his gaze fixed on the laptop in front of him, his expression solemn. The car was soundproofed so well that he couldn’t hear a hint of the shouting outside.
The car moved steadily until it stopped. Zhang Rong, sitting in the passenger seat, got out, returned quickly, and said to He Yuzhou, “Ho-saang, there’s a crew filming up ahead.”
Hearing this, Zhang Rong watched as He Yuzhou frowned, his solemn look turning impatient, glancing at his watch.
He Yuzhou could easily have the American police stop the crew, but Zhang Rong knew he was always low-key and wouldn’t cause a scene unless necessary.
Sure enough, the next second, Zhang Rong saw He Yuzhou open the car door and step out, striding forward.
He Yuzhou was very conscious of time. In ten minutes, he had a very important meeting.
Every second counted. Rather than waste time waiting for the crew to pause or to take a detour, it was faster to walk.
The company building was just behind Times Square, only a few minutes’ walk from here.
The crowd was thick, and Zhang Rong, along with several black-suited bodyguards from the second car, followed at He Yuzhou’s sides.
His phone vibrated. He Yuzhou put it to his ear to answer.
There were so many people gathered—mostly Chinese—all calling out the same name.
“Shuangshuang!”
“Yingshuang! You’re so beautiful!”
As Cen Yingshuang walked by, she responded with a sweet smile: “Thank you~”
“Shuangshuang, I saw the photos you posted on Weibo. Which island in Fiji did you go to? It’s so beautiful, I really want to go too!” a fan shouted.
At this, Cen Yingshuang paused and answered, “It’s a private island. It’s really gorgeous—while filming the perfume ad and diving, I even ran into a whale that big.”
When she said “that big,” her expression was animated, and she raised her hand to draw a big circle.
“Shuangshuang, you’re so cute!”
“Was that painting on the island too? It’s stunning!” someone asked. “Is it a mural?”
“It’s Yancai Painting. The real thing is even more amazing, but I don’t know who the artist is,” Cen Yingshuang replied patiently. But with the staff quietly urging her, she could only wave goodbye. “I have to go now!”
He Yuzhou had been focused on his phone call, but as he passed by, the words “Yancai Painting” floated into his ear, catching his attention. He reflexively turned his head.
He saw the slender figure surrounded by a crowd and camera flashes.
“Albert?”
Perhaps because he’d suddenly stopped talking, a suspicious voice came from the phone.
He Yuzhou snapped back to reality, quickly looked away, and switched back to German: “Nothing.”
With crowds jostling all around, He Yuzhou strode ahead, surrounded by bodyguards.
People around stared in curiosity, and when they saw He Yuzhou, they began to whisper excitedly, thinking he was some celebrity—the atmosphere instantly grew more charged.
Unfortunately, the burly bodyguards formed a safe zone around He Yuzhou, so no one could get close.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted ahead, naturally catching Cen Yingshuang’s attention. She followed the noise with her eyes—and couldn’t look away.
The bodyguards were tall and imposing, but the man in their midst was even taller, striding ahead with long legs.
It was already cooling down in New York in October—just above ten degrees today—but he wore only a burgundy shirt and jet-black suit pants.
That shirt color was hard to pull off, but on him it looked regal.
In this sea of people, he was indeed the most outstanding, the brightest presence.
And Cen Yingshuang could recognize, just from his back, that it was He Yuzhou.
She could hardly believe it—what a coincidence! He was in New York too?
She hurried a few steps, trying to catch a glimpse of his face, but he walked too fast and disappeared around the corner in no time.
Cen Yingshuang let out a disappointed sigh.
Why was it so hard to get a look at his face?
***
After finishing her shoots in New York, Cen Yingshuang finally returned to Beicheng.
It was already ten at night when she got home.
As soon as she entered, the family dog Happy came running, circling around her feet.
Happy was a tiny Maltese girl, incredibly sweet-looking, dressed up in a pink princess dress with a pink bow hair clip.
The dog who had been kicked out of the world before her due date was Happy’s grandmother.
“Ah, Happy baby, you came to pick up your sister.” Cen Yingshuang scooped Happy up, and the dog enthusiastically licked her face.
Cen Yingshuang took off her shoes and walked in barefoot. Only the housekeeper, Aunt Qin Yi, was home.
“Shuangshuang, you’re back,” Qin Yi greeted with a smile.
“Your dad and mom aren’t home yet—your dad has surgery, your mom’s recording a variety show.”
As she spoke, Qin Yi went to take Cen Yingshuang’s suitcase, but Cen Yingshuang quickly stopped her, saying sensibly, “Qin Yi, I’ll carry it myself. It’s late—you should rest.”
“It’s fine, it’s not heavy,” Qin Yi said.
Just then, the sound of the door opening came from the foyer. Like Happy had done earlier, Cen Yingshuang dashed over to greet them.
She saw a middle-aged man come in, already changed into slippers.
Her father, Cen Bowen.
Cen Bowen was over fifty-five, with mostly white hair, but he had a gentle, jade-like aura, still as elegant as ever.
He was changing shoes and on the phone, his expression grave.
Whoever was on the line, Cen Bowen replied firmly, “No discussion! This is absolutely not happening!”
He hung up.
Just as he stepped inside, Cen Yingshuang ran over.
“Dad, my dear dad.”
She threw herself into his arms and said coquettishly, “I missed you so much!”
“Why are you barefoot again?”
Cen Bowen’s grave look vanished the moment he saw Cen Yingshuang.
He immediately noticed her fair, tender feet.
“It’s autumn now—be careful not to let the cold in, or you’ll get joint pain later…”
His doctor’s instincts acting up, Cen Yingshuang just nodded obediently, not listening to a word, and after letting him go, ran barefoot into the living room, flopping onto the sofa.
Her worried father followed, bringing her slippers and putting them on her feet.
“Are you hungry?”
Cen Yingshuang hadn’t been home in over half a month, and she seemed even thinner tonight.
Cen Bowen’s gaze was full of affection and worry.
“Should I make you a late-night snack?”
“I’m starving.”
At the mention, Cen Yingshuang pulled a face—on the plane, Màn Jie had only let her eat some greens.
“But I can’t eat. If I do, Màn Jie will kill me.”
“Health comes first,” Cen Bowen said seriously, then turned sly.
“If neither of us says anything, how would she know?”
Cen Yingshuang couldn’t resist the temptation.
“Then…I’ll just eat a little?”
She made a gesture with her thumb and forefinger pressed together.
Cen Bowen laughed.
“Go take a shower first. It’ll be ready when you’re done.”
He rolled up his sleeves and headed to the kitchen.
Cen Yingshuang sprang up.
“Okay!”
She went to her room, and after showering, came downstairs to find Zhou Yabin had returned.
Zhou Yabin and Cen Bowen were lying on the sofa—actually, Zhou Yabin was sprawled right on top of Cen Bowen, hugging him tightly.
They’d married and had kids late, but in Cen Yingshuang’s memory, they’d always been this loving for over a decade.
They never shied from showing affection in front of her.
Cen Yingshuang was used to it by now.
Whenever Zhou Yabin was home, she’d cling to Cen Bowen like this, saying it was to recharge.
Hearing footsteps, Zhou Yabin finally paused her “recharging,” sat up, and smiled warmly.
“Oh, my good girl is finally home. Come here, let Mom give you a proper hug.”
Cen Yingshuang scurried over, squeezing between Zhou Yabin and Cen Bowen. Zhou Yabin hugged her like a baby, kissing her cheeks several times and leaving lipstick marks.
“Aiya, I just washed my face.”
She covered her face to stop Zhou Yabin from kissing her.
“Already disliking your mother?”
Zhou Yabin pretended to be upset, trying to kiss her again.
Cen Yingshuang dodged, and Zhou Yabin sniffed her, “My good girl smells so nice.”
She cupped Cen Yingshuang’s face.
“My good girl is so pretty.”
Cen Yingshuang pretended to shiver, “Eek~ Ma’am, please mind your image. Stop acting like a fangirl!”
Zhou Yabin said, “I’m your biggest superfan.”
Cen Bowen added, “Me too.”
Cen Yingshuang burst out laughing.
“All right, all right, the noodles will get cold,” Cen Bowen reminded.
The three of them went to the dining room.
On the table were three bowls of Yangchun Noodles, with soft-boiled eggs and shrimp.
Cen Bowen was a great cook, especially famous for his Yangchun Noodles.
Zhou Yabin once said she’d eaten every delicacy in her life, but never got tired of Cen Bowen’s Yangchun Noodles.
She’d told Cen Yingshuang their love story.
Cen Bowen was two years older than Zhou Yabin, a top cardiovascular surgeon at a leading Three-A Hospital in Beicheng.
Back then, Zhou Yabin was filming a medical drama at the hospital.
The first time they met, he was just a young attending physician.
A nurse was being bullied by a patient’s family, causing a huge scene, and he was the first to stand up for her—even shielding her when things got physical.
Zhou Yabin said she was attracted to him at first sight, loving his gentle yet unyielding sense of justice.
She also said that after a lifetime of acting, she knew too well how to fake loving someone, but after meeting Cen Bowen, she realized real love couldn’t be faked.