Wen Yin’s skin was so pale it seemed to glow even under the slightly yellowed light. The sight of that smooth expanse drew into Shao Yinan’s gaze until he felt awkward and shifted his eyes away. His Adam’s apple bobbed as his throat tightened.
“All set.”
In just a few seconds the plaster was on. Wen Yin tapped his hand twice, indicating she was finished.
A pale yellow bandage now hugged the broad palm of his hand, surprisingly childish and somehow endearing.
“Thanks, A‑Yin.” Shao Yinan couldn’t help the corner of his mouth twitching; his brows lifted in that proud, spoiled expression people who knew him recognized as a rare, genuine pleasure.
Wen Yin didn’t register the expression. She was caught on the single syllable he’d used — “A‑Yin.”
Shao’s eyes were warm, an inky depth that softened everything around him. “Compared to Teacher Wen, A‑Yin sounds better,” he said.
Her water-bright eyes fixed on him. After a long beat, a faint smile curved her lips. “I think so too.”
“Then, goodnight, Teacher Shao?” she asked, and at that moment she stepped just behind the kitchen doorway. Beyond her was black sky, and above her head the moon shone white and clear. Moonlight fell across the crown of her hair, giving it a softened sheen as if she’d merged with the lunar glow.
Shao Yinan paused, then waved once. “Goodnight.”
“A‑Yin.”
After the guests’ messages were sent, the first episode of the show — Heartbeat, Lovers — drew to a close. The live stream ended, but the heat around it only climbed. In two days Wen Yin had trended seven or eight times; tonight her name started to flood the entertainment feeds. Her follower count jumped by the hundreds of thousands.
#WenYinSurvivalSkillsMaxed
#WenYinInAnotherAtmosphere
#SevenHundredAndNinetyNineBoyfriendInstincts
#WenYinLoveBrainActivated
#WenYinLoveBrainForaging
“Ahhh, she kills me! I don’t care about love lectures — I’d listen to her any day!!”
“Wow, wifey’s cooking looked so good. I wonder if I’ll ever get to eat a meal she made for me!”
“Is this the same Wen Yin who had all that bad press? Somehow I’m actually hooked. Back to the replay!”
“Honestly, out of the nine guests she’s living the best life — fishing, cooking, fixing windows. Her survival skills are top tier!”
“Whoever dumped our A‑Yin is a jerk — hiss, you trash!!!”
“Wen Zhi felt kind of off this episode, not that impressive. She seemed a little staged, like a sea queen. Wen Yin surprised me—new stan!”
As soon as Wen Yin and Wen Zhi’s names were mentioned together, the war between fanbases erupted.
Wen Zhi watched the Weibo flame war with an expression like polished stone. She’d long known her own supporters were outmatched. Realizing that tightened her fingers around the phone.
Damn Wen Yin. Two days and she’d practically lured Lu Ziqiu away — shameless.
Wen Zhi’s face went ashen; she couldn’t accept losing what she thought was hers. The shadow at the back of her heart began to pool, then surge forward, untamed.
If Wen Yin had started this, she wouldn’t hold back.
Wen Yin slept hard and woke to a bright morning. It took a few seconds for the reality of the show’s first episode being over to return to her — today everyone would be going home.
After washing up, she packed. She’d brought little; it was quick. The production team had already booked flights for the nine of them and were waiting to leave as soon as they were ready.
She sat beneath the courtyard tree, the sun high and sharp. Signal on her phone flickered between decent and dead. She was about to tuck it away when a shadow fell over her.
She lifted her eyelids slowly and looked up.
Xiao Mo stood there without expression, black eyes fixed on her. Beneath that dark gaze she read something she didn’t understand.
Wen Yin raised an eyebrow in answer; she’d already guessed why he’d come. Neither of them spoke. She idly scrolled through her phone, treating him like air.
The vein at his temple twitched. He looked down at her and said, low and controlled, “Was it fun?”
Wen Yin tilted her head, bright and deliberately contrary. “Yes.”
Her smile was sunlit; she bit her lower lip and blinked up at him with open innocence.
The question hung in the air. For a moment Xiao Mo’s face stilled — then anger filled his eyes. “You’re hopeless,” he hissed. “This is a live broadcast. Watch your words. This is a warning.”
He seized her jaw with a hard hand, forcing her chin up so she met his gaze.
Pain cut through his short exhale.
Wen Yin’s fingers closed around his wrist, and with a practiced twist she threw him aside.
“Mr. Xiao, you can shout all you want, but hands on a woman are another matter.” Her voice was cool, barely masking the disquiet that made her spine bristle.
Shock flickered through Xiao Mo’s eyes. How could this woman be stronger than a man? Was she some kind of freak?
Wen Yin stood. She might have been a few inches shorter, but something about her stance pushed him down a notch. She smiled with a shade of mockery. “I don’t see anything inappropriate about what I said on air. Since when do I not have the right to teach my fans about love?”
“Or are you taking it personally, Mr. Xiao?”
Xiao Mo’s gaze darkened. Wen Zhi’s name — and the casual mention of Lu Ziqiu — had landed in his mind like a spell. For a moment he didn’t know what he was angry about: was it Wen Yin’s treatment of Wen Zhi, or the hint of intimacy between Wen Yin and Lu Ziqiu?