Xu Yan hurried back to Shen Shuang's apartment, her steps a little flustered.
The moment she stepped inside, she spotted Jiang Churan and Shen Shuang curled up on the living-room sofa, deep in conversation.
Seeing Xu Yan return, the two instantly reached for her phone with expectant faces.
As they looked at the photo of Xu Yan with Su Wan and the celebrity Lei Jiaying, their envy practically spilled off the screen.
Their cheeks even tingled with sour jealousy.
"Xu Yan, you're so lucky."
Shen Shuang chimed in, nodding vigorously. "Exactly! If you post this, the whole school will die of envy."
Yet after a few sighs of admiration, the tables turned and both Girls started envying Jiang Churan instead.
"Chu Ran, you're the truly lucky one. You should've seen the director and actors on set—when they saw how humble Jiang Cheng was, it was unreal. They spoke so cautiously, not daring to breathe. The moment Jiang Cheng appeared, his aura crushed them all."
When Xu Yan finished, Shen Shuang cleared her throat and spoke with mock solemnity.
"Ahem, Chu Ran, I once swore off boyfriends to focus on my career, but… would your boyfriend be willing to share? Don't worry—if I win Jiang Cheng over, you'll be first wife, I'll be second. I won't fight you. I just want to know what it feels like to be with someone that outstanding…" She clasped her hands and gazed at Jiang Churan with puppy eyes.
Seeing Shen Shuang beg, Jiang Churan didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
She answered bluntly, "Sure, but Shuang, I don't fancy your chances."
At the blunt reply, Shen Shuang's hopeful look vanished, replaced by pure defiance.
She clenched her fists, rolled up imaginary sleeves, widened her eyes, and demanded loudly.
"What do you mean? Today I swore I'd beat Xu Yan until her milk sprayed—lucky for her she brought me that autograph, so I let her off. Are you volunteering to take her beating instead?"
With that, Shen Shuang leapt up and straddled Jiang Churan, flailing her hands and tickling her mercilessly.
Every jab landed squarely on Jiang Churan's most ticklish spots.
Jiang Churan burst into helpless laughter, wriggling and squirming to escape.
Between giggles she gasped, "I'm just being honest! Yan Yan, save me…"
Watching her two best friends horse around,
Xu Yan stepped in with an amused smile.
"Alright, Sister Shuang, don't cripple her—I still need her boyfriend's connections to land a job."
Taking the cue, Shen Shuang climbed off Jiang Churan.
She folded her arms, eyes gleaming, and with a sly grin said, "If I can't, what about Yan Yan? She's prettier than me. We're sisters—share the wealth! Tell us, would Xu Yan work?"
At that, Jiang Churan turned to study Xu Yan.
She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, then said calmly but firmly, "Xu Yan might have a shot."
The verdict fired Shen Shuang up; her eyes went wide and she clapped excitedly.
"Yan Yan, did you hear that? This is your turning point—grab it!"
The praise made Xu Yan's gaze flicker with sudden shyness.
But she quickly joined the banter.
In a soft, playful voice she cooed, "Really? Then please take me in. Like Shuang, I'll be quiet and obedient. After success, I'll listen to everything you say…"
The three were close enough to joke about anything.
Jiang Churan smiled. "You tried the other night—this is something only you can work on. I can't help."
Hearing that, Shen Shuang grabbed Xu Yan's breasts.
"Yan Yan, let me teach you. Legs won't do it—stick out your chest. With a pair like these, any guy will want to cop a feel."
At the risqué remark,
both Girls flushed crimson.
"Sister Shuang, you're such a perv!"
"I'm dying of embarrassment."
Shen Shuang played the tough gal. "What are you two thinking? I said 'cop a feel,' not 'grab his junk.'"
"Ahhh, Sister Shuang!"
"Stop talking!"
… Back at the Rear Sea area Courtyard House, Jiang Cheng took a quick, soothing hot shower.
Then, wearing only a towel, he flopped onto the bed.
He opened wechat and saw several unread messages.
All were from more than two hours earlier.
He had to admit, the women around him were very considerate—
none had spammed him for replies.
He tapped on Zhou Ying's messages.
She had sent several short clips of her redecorating her place.
In the second video, a familiar silhouette appeared at the edge of the frame—
Fang Yuan, in profile, doing yoga stretches.
Her skin-tight yoga suit traced every graceful curve.
Head tilted back, eyes focused and determined, her long dark hair cascaded like a waterfall.
If not for Zhou Ying's bright voice-over, Jiang Cheng would have sworn the woman doing yoga was Zhou Ying herself.
From certain angles, Fang Yuan and Zhou Ying looked exactly alike.
The sight left Jiang Cheng momentarily dazed.
Jiang Cheng: "Babe, just got home. How are you spending New Year?"
Zhou Ying: "In past years we had to visit my uncle—this year we don't. I'm so happy."
Zhou Ying: "I've already asked Zhong Chuxi and the others to go shopping, and my mom's off to hang with her best friend."
Zhou Ying: "This year feels peaceful—no drama."
Zhou Ying fired off message after message, clearly in high spirits.
Jiang Cheng: "I'll head back after New Year and take you out."
Zhou Ying: "You're coming home?"
Jiang Cheng: "Dad's officially handing the company over to me. They hold an annual reopening banquet for staff—so I'll be back."
After flirting with the Girls for a while, Jiang Cheng slipped on a robe and strolled toward the living room.
The corridor of the Courtyard House was lit by soft, amber light; the old brick floor, worn smooth by time, felt warm underfoot.
He reached the grand armchair, braced his hands on its arms, and sank lazily into its embrace.
His gaze drifted, as though savoring the fleeting calm.
Just then, a crisp, rhythmic tap-tap-tap of high heels sounded from afar, cutting clearly through the hushed parlor.
Jiang Cheng tilted his head slightly toward the noise.
There stood Su Wan beyond the lattice door.
Soft light spilled from behind her, outlining her silhouette in perfect relief.
Already tall and graceful, she looked even more bewitching under that glow.
She had meant to praise the majesty and elegance of this Courtyard House, but when her gaze crossed the threshold and landed on Jiang Cheng in the parlor,
the words felt snatched from her throat by an invisible hand; not one syllable escaped.
The collar of his charcoal-gray robe gaped just enough to reveal a firm, powerful chest.
Those sculpted muscles showed faintly in the lamplight, like a masterpiece carved from marble.
His uncombed hair was tousled yet carried an effortless charm.
He lounged idly in an ornate rosewood chair.
Even so, an air of innate nobility clung to him.
He might have stepped from a Republican-era scroll: every subtle move, every casual glance exuded cultivated ease.
Su Wan's eyes felt magnetized; she could not look away.
Her pulse quickened, her calm breathing faltered, her gaze softened.
She stood frozen beyond the lattice, as though time itself had paused.
Feeling her stare, Jiang Cheng curved his lips in a faint smile. He lifted a hand, crooked a long finger, and said in a low, gentle voice, "Why stay outside in the cold? Come in."
Only then did Su Wan return to herself.
A trace of bewilderment lingered in her clear eyes, while her cheeks blushed like spring clouds.
She bit her lower lip, drew a soft breath, and glided forward.
Her body swayed as if answering some invisible rhythm.
Each motion was measured—never ostentatious yet endlessly alluring.
Every step composed a graceful movement, swaying like poetry.
An indescribable charm trailed behind her.
The new jade-green cheongsam clung to her like a work of art, sculpting every curve.
Its silk was fine and lustrous, shimmering under the lights as though hiding countless stories.
The high side-slit, cut with exquisite care, let her long legs flash in and out of view, adding mystery and allure.
A snowy-white fluffy stole rested across her arms, its softness against her fair skin lending nobility.
Her vintage makeup was delicate: red lips pressed together, eyeliner flicked upward in subtle flirtation.
Jet-black hair coiled into a retro bun, a few loose strands brushing her ears for languid softness.
Pearl drops trembled on her earlobes, glowing warmly with each step.
When she reached Jiang Cheng she angled her body and sank onto the seat beside him, seemingly casual yet full of flair.
She slipped a hand into her vintage clutch.
After a moment she drew out a pack of Republican-era cigarettes.
The wrapper, elegant and old, bore faded scenes of old Shanghai—an imprint of time.
With slender ivory fingers she slid one cigarette free.
She held it between her fingers with practiced grace.
Her other hand produced a lighter from the bag.
Its case was brass, the design equally retro.
She flicked the lid open; a flame leapt up with a soft click.
The flickering glow painted her porcelain face,
making her skin even more lustrous, her features more defined.
She lowered her head, brought the cigarette to the flame, and gently rolled it.
In seconds the tip glowed.
A wisp of smoke curled from her crimson lips.
She exhaled slowly, petals of smoke unfurling in the air.
Her eyes turned languid and bewitching.
It felt as though they had been transported to the decadent old Shanghai of a bygone era.
Lifting her gaze to Jiang Cheng, she looked at him with spring-water softness and playful invitation.
A meaningful smile curved her mouth; the aura of old Shanghai clung to her.
She tilted her head, voice sweet and teasing: "Young Master Jiang, I went to great lengths to bring these from old Shanghai. Will you honor me with a smoke?"
As she spoke she offered the cigarette to him, eyes shimmering with expectation.
Seeing her sudden performance, Jiang Cheng's dark eyes flashed with amusement.
He glanced at the woman leaning against him and silently applauded.
Truly a professional actress.
This level of immersion put those clumsy role-plays from high-end clubs to shame.
Her outfit and state sent a jolt of excitement through him.
When Jiang Cheng leaned closer, Su Wan's fingers turned in silent understanding and placed the lit cigarette between his lips.
He drew in a slow breath, then exhaled a languid stream of smoke.
The smoke formed a perfect ring that drifted outward.
His gaze never left Su Wan.
"Miss Su certainly knows style—even cigarettes, mint-flavored."
Su Wan gave a soft laugh, leaned forward, and her full breast brushed his arm with warm electricity.
"I didn't smoke before, but the role required it, so I learned. I never cared for it—until I discovered… it's only interesting when someone shares it with me."