In Ying Yin’s memory, it had been a long time since she’d had a proper heart-to-heart with Ying Fan.
After she debuted, her schedule had been packed – moving from one production set to another without a break, with any rare gaps filled by commercial commitments. Before she turned eighteen, Ying Fan had been nominally her assistant, but in practice, she functioned more as an executive manager. Add to that her role as Ying Yin’s legal guardian, and she had inserted herself into Ying Yin’s path to stardom with a blend of fragility and fierceness, worldly shrewdness and street-smart determination. During all the closed-set scenes for Floating Flowers, Ying Fan would be waiting just off-camera, her posture like a hawk guarding its nest. Back in their room at night, she’d ask Ying Yin over and over: Did any actor touch you here? Did they touch you there? “If any of them dares to lay a hand on you inappropriately, I’ll go down fighting with him, even if it ruins us both.”
But Chenye, as the top entertainment company in the industry, was never going to allow a small family-run operation to meddle in its affairs long-term – especially not with Ying Yin, who wasn’t like the later signings who came in as established top stars; she was, in every real sense, “company property.” On the night of Ying Yin’s eighteenth birthday banquet, Ying Fan was effectively forced to “surrender her command over a cup of wine,” and from then on, she retired to Ping City to live out her days.
“Twenty-nine already, just like that,” Ying Fan murmured, counting on her fingers. “Thirteen years in the business – you’re a veteran of the entertainment world now.”
Ying Yin let out a puff of laughter. “Just being called ‘Miss Ying’ already makes me sound ancient, but that’s not a thing in the film circle – that’s idol-industry jargon.”
Junyi had changed Ying Yin’s bedsheets, and since the weather was warming up, even the down comforter had been swapped for a lighter one. The mother and daughter lay side by side on the bed, their features veiled in moonlight – similar in shape, yet wholly different in spirit.
“Your mother had already prepared herself for the possibility that you might never marry.”
“Weren’t you the one so anxious to marry me off?” Ying Yin turned her head, teasing her. “Song Shizhang had practically become your ideal son-in-law.”
“Ah, forget it. I’ve said all there is to say about what I worry about and what I hold dear. Say any more, and it’ll just show my age.” Ying Fan paused for a moment. “You’re stubborn in your ways. If you really can’t find someone who suits your heart, I’ll see you through the first half of your life, and Junyi will see you through the second. That’s not such a bad fate either.”
“Junyi doesn’t want to be tied down by you – she’s going to find someone to fall in love with.”
Ying Fan let out a chuckle and asked, “How long have you been with him?”
The dates were all memorized in her heart, but at this moment Ying Yin felt a twinge of guilt. “Over seven months.”
Ying Fan showed no sign of surprise and asked, “Seven months – getting to know each other, falling in love, pledging your lives to each other – has it been the kind of desperate, all-consuming passion?”
“Nothing so desperate,” Ying Yin insisted stubbornly.
“Nothing so desperate? Then why would Junyi say that none of us can keep you here, only he can?” Ying Fan countered flatly.
Ying Yin parted her lips to argue, but heard Ying Fan continue, “Save it. You know better than anyone whether Junyi has it in her to lie.”
“She was just hypothesizing…”
“You’re very fond of him, aren’t you? This Shang Shao – the lofty crown prince of a wealthy dynasty, the kind of background ordinary people wouldn’t even dare to dream of.”
Ying Yin gave a soft “Mm.”
“You fell for him first?”
Ying Yin hummed in affirmation again.
“You like him – is it because he’s of noble birth, holds great power, and is willing to spend money on you?”
Ying Fan’s question was brutally direct, so much so that it bordered on unpleasant – and if it hit close to the truth, that truth was undoubtedly an ugly one. But how perfectly it fit the logic of the mundane world.
“Why are you asking that?” Ying Yin shot back.
“If that’s the reason, I’d suggest you think again. Marrying up is like swallowing needles – though I’ve always wanted you to find someone who can protect you and has connections, in a family like that, your career and achievements count for nothing. I have no real power to back you up. Once you’re in, the only thing you can rely on is his love for you. If it’s just his money and status that have cast a rosy glow over your eyes, then what you’re marrying is nothing but a flower in the mirror or the moon’s reflection on water.”
Ying Yin listened in silence, then let out a chuckle. “Mom, that really doesn’t sound like something you’d say.”
“I’m afraid, sweetheart,” Ying Fan turned onto her side, looking at Ying Yin’s face. “I never gave you a sense of financial security growing up, and I’m afraid you’ll mistake money itself for security. That’s certainly not a bad thing – but only if that money is your own.”
“But they say,” Ying Yin replied, holding her mother’s gaze steadily, “that girls who go after money end up with everything, while girls who go after love end up with nothing.”
Ying Fan froze for a moment, the lines on her face softening into a weary, lonely expression.
“Isn’t that talking about me?” She laughed at herself.
She had gone after love, and by middle age she had nothing left – taking her little daughter’s hand and starting over from a shantytown. Her coworker had gone after money, taken a million from a wealthy businessman, and was now living it up in a big villa in Canada with a young white boyfriend, wanting for nothing.
“Song Shizhang once introduced me to a friend of his – she’s a bit younger than you. She gets kept for a hundred million a year, takes great care of herself, and there’s something innocent in her eyes, like a high schooler. Even at sixteen, my gaze was less clean than hers.” Ying Yin asked, “Do you envy her?”
Without a second thought, Ying Fan said: “I do.” She gave a small smile. “But I’m afraid I could never pull it off.”
“Maybe going after love or going after money – each takes their own skill, and luck plays a part too.”
“Going after love or going after money, each takes their own skill…” Ying Fan murmured the words to herself. “And what about you?”
“A daughter always ends up walking her mother’s path.”
Hearing this, Ying Fan reached her hands out from under the covers and pressed her palms against her eye sockets. The heat surged there, burning her eyes with a sting.
“Mom, I love him. How embarrassing,” Ying Yin said, a hint of shyness in her voice.
She and Ying Fan hadn’t had an intimate conversation in a long time. Whenever she came home to visit, their words came out stiff and hard, and they’d end up arguing after just a few exchanges.
Ying Fan laughed through her tears. “It’s not embarrassing at all.”
“The first time I saw him, I didn’t know who he was. He handed me an umbrella, draped a shawl over my shoulders, and with a cigarette between his fingers, crouched down to straighten the hem of my dress. He had a pleasant scent about him, and in his suit, he looked both refined and utterly unreachable.”
“You fell for him at first sight?” Ying Fan was genuinely astonished.
In the entertainment industry, there were hundreds of striking faces – she’d seen countless of them. Ying Yin shouldn’t have been the type to lose her heart at first glance.
“Mm. There was something magnetic about him.” Ying Yin smiled. “A few days later, Junyi mistook him for a sasaeng fan and gave him an earful, but he thought it was a distress signal from me and brought people to the hotel to rescue me. He treats people with genuine care – he’s not the type to degrade anyone, you know?” Ying Yin lifted her lashes and said quietly: “In all these years, I’ve never seen anyone like him.”
Ying Fan said nothing, and didn’t ask about the contract.
“I often feel that he’s very lonely. So much has happened between us – too much to tell in one go. It’d be as long as a novel; you’d probably need three or four months just to read through our story. But in this world, I’m the only one who truly understands him. Mom, he has all the money in the world, but he only has me.”
After saying this, Ying Yin stared fixedly at the ceiling for a moment, then broke into a smile. “Don’t worry about me.”
“What about the contract, then?” Ying Fan finally asked.
Ying Yin whipped her head around. “You saw it?”
“I tidied your room a bit and happened to come across some of your medication too.” Ying Fan tried very hard to sound casual. “You kept your relationship a secret, and you kept your illness a secret too. I’m a pretty lousy mother.”
“No, you’re not,” Ying Yin scooted closer, nestling up to her and catching the scent of her hair. “Your worrying often made things harder for me to explain, so I just didn’t say anything – otherwise it would’ve taken so much more effort.”
Ying Fan grinned and let out a sighing laugh. “I was the same way when I was a daughter.”
Of course she still wanted to ask: I can’t give you strength anymore, can I? I can’t be the road you turn back to when things get hard. But that was something she needed to reflect on within herself, not something to interrogate her daughter about, not something to seek answers from her daughter for.
“That contract was written really well – there’s no other transaction involved, I’m just playing the part of his girlfriend, that’s all.”
The night was probably deep by now; the moon had risen high, casting pale blue light through the half-closed venetian blinds.
Ying Fan gave her a knowing, half-smile. “And that’s not degrading you?”
“Not at all,” Ying Yin pressed her lips together and smiled. “He just doesn’t know that when I signed that contract with him, I already had ulterior motives – I wanted him to remember me for the rest of his life.”
“Dummy.” Ying Fan tapped her on the head.
“Huh?”
“Go ask him. He’s the one who had ulterior motives.”
“Mmm…” Ying Yin clasped her hands together under the covers, a little shy and hesitant. “Of course, he does have some feelings for me too…”
Ying Fan shook her head, pulled Ying Yin’s sleep mask down, and pressed it into place. “Go to sleep. Lack of sleep makes people dull.”
Ying Yin: “…”
She had a nagging feeling she’d just been cursed by Ying Fan. She tossed and turned but couldn’t fall asleep, listening to the pitiful wailing of cats in heat outside. The security patrols in the villa district were excellent, but when it came to matters of the heart, there was no airtight defense.
As the moon began to set, Ying Yin threw off the covers and got out of bed, heading to the living room for some water.
The cool, clear water shimmered in the moonlight. Ying Yin held the glass up for a moment, then dialed Shang Shao.
“Mr. Shang.”
Shang Shao glanced at the caller ID once more, a faint smile underlying his voice. “Drunk? I thought you were quitting alcohol.”
“It’s so late – why aren’t you asleep yet?” Ying Yin deflected.
“I took five days off, so the group’s backlog piled up pretty high. There are also some social obligations to handle.” Shang Shao rose from the sofa in his bedroom and paced slowly back and forth in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, steeped in deep blue-black darkness. “They all really want to meet you.”
“Who’s ‘they’?”
“A bunch of rather unscrupulous people.”
“You actually keep unscrupulous people around you,” Ying Yin teased.
Shang Shao let out a laugh. “I do have a few disreputable friends too.”
Ying Yin sipped her water in small mouthfuls, staying quiet for a long while, her eyes blinking now and then.
Shang Shao caught on, his voice softening. “Missing me?”
“Mm.”
“Your mother’s with you in the evening, so I thought you wouldn’t have time – that’s why I didn’t reach out.” Shang Shao walked back to the bedside, picked up the watch he’d tossed aside, and glanced at it. “Go to sleep first. There are still nine hours until noon. Tomorrow, the moment you open your eyes, you’ll see me.”
Ying Yin bit her lip and asked him, “That contract – did you tear it up?”
“What contract?” Shang Shao paused briefly, then realized. “Not yet. I’ve put it away.”
“What if…” Ying Yin mustered her courage. “What if I hadn’t signed it with you back then – would you have found someone else?”
“No.”
“You would’ve had a story with someone else.”
“Don’t talk nonsense.” Shang Shao let out a soft laugh. Through the glass curtain wall of the floor-to-ceiling window, he gazed at his own eyes reflected there. “It’s always been only you.”
“You’re just sweet-talking me.” Ying Yin pretended not to believe him.
“I did think about finding someone to appease Xiao Wen, but I never actively looked. If it weren’t for you, that contract would never have existed.”
“First there was me, then there was the contract.”
“Mm.”
“Then what if I hadn’t signed it with you?” Ying Yin pressed him.
“If you hadn’t signed – even better.” Shang Shao lowered his gaze. “I would’ve pursued you.”
Thump. Ying Yin felt something strike her heart – a dull impact that sent a tingling numbness rippling through her, like an electric current coursing through every limb.
“You like me that much, huh,” Ying Yin gloated, feigning nonchalance. “How come I never noticed? You don’t even smile in front of me.”
“I liked you from the very first look.”
“Liar.” Ying Yin’s face flushed as she twisted and untwisted the tassels on her shawl.
“Wasn’t it you who told Lulu,” Shang Shao let out a faint, almost imperceptible laugh, “that your beauty strikes directly at…”
It was rather embarrassing to say out loud.
He pressed his lips together, paused for a moment, then finished. “…strikes directly at the male biological instinct.”
Ying Yin’s body temperature was about to explode. “That was just some gossip account making things up…”
What the hell was Shang Lu doing, telling him that kind of thing?!
“Whether it was made up or not, I don’t know. But at the very least,” Shang Shao lifted the corner of his mouth, “my instinct was in there.”
Ying Yin was stunned, then started pacing back and forth in the living room.
She felt so restless – her heart itched unbearably, but she couldn’t scratch it. All she could do was press the heel of her palm against her chest and rub in circles. Then she suddenly crouched down, her long frame curling into a tight ball.
So restless.
With a muffled whimper, she collapsed onto the sofa, hugging a throw pillow and rolling back and forth.
Shang Shao listened to her noises from the other end of the line, his brow slightly furrowed, torn between amusement and exasperation. “What are you doing?”
Ying Yin’s face burned with heat. “The first time I saw you, I was a complete mess -soaked through, makeup all smudged.”
“That wasn’t the first time.”
“Huh?” Ying Yin was dumbfounded, blinking blankly, her teeth nibbling on her fingernail.
“The first time was at an ad shoot – in Macau, at Qili, you were dancing with Ke Yu.”
In a flash of realization, Ying Yin suddenly understood. “You’ve been plotting against me all along.”
Shang Shao curved his lips. “For the sake of loving you, that doesn’t count as plotting.”
With everything settled, they chose a fine day with blue skies and fragrant flowers for Shang Shao to formally bring Ying Yin home to Deep Water Bay to meet his parents.
For this meeting, Wen Youyi had spared no effort. The villa estate, spanning over six thousand square meters, was already impeccably maintained on a daily basis, but for Ying Yin’s arrival, an entire thorough cleaning was mobilized – every lawn and green plant trimmed to perfection, and freshly cut flowers from the garden arranged in every corner of the villa, their rich fragrance carried by the sea breeze climbing up the cliffs, warmly wafting to every nook and cranny.
Wen Youyi shook out a gold-embroidered square cloth and, together with a servant, moved it to a side table in a corner. Shang Qingye had a business engagement that morning and strode briskly through the front hall. Having lived in this house for over twenty years, he’d never even noticed there was a side table there – which just went to show how meticulously Wen Youyi had attended to every detail today.
“No need to be so nervous.” He put his arms around Wen Youyi. “I’m off. See you this afternoon.”
“This is the first time Ah-Shao is bringing Yinyin home – we need to leave the best impression.” Wen Youyi pressed her palms together against her cheek, nestled in his arms as she admired the arrangement, and sighed with satisfaction. “I told you this one matches the vase perfectly.”
Shang Qingye finally seized the chance to sell out his son. “This isn’t the first time he’s brought her home.”
Wen Youyi turned her head and looked up at him. “Huh?”
“He brought her back long ago – under the radar, sneaking her in to spend the night.”
“That’s impossible.” Wen Youyi thought it over carefully, then asked, “That time you were watching the variety show?”
Shang Qingye nodded. “He had brunch with you, and you thought he was being such a filial son – but really, he was already dying to get back to her.”
Wen Youyi: “…”
She muttered under her breath. “A crooked roof casts a crooked shadow – like father, like son.”
By the afternoon, they all started drifting back from their various places.
Shang Lu and Ke Yu arrived first, bringing a large bouquet of sunset-colored tulips wrapped in glassine paper. Wen Youyi instructed a servant to put them in a vase, then said to Shang Lu, “Be polite today – drop the director’s attitude.”
Shang Lu felt utterly wronged. “I’ve always been nice to her.”
“Of course. You were willing to post on Weibo for her – no wonder Ah-Shao gave you all those paintings.”
“I’ll say it one more time: that post was for Mr. Ke.”
Wen Youyi gave a perfunctory “Mm-hm,” then turned to Ke Yu. “Xiao Dao, you’re closest to her – look after her a bit. I’m afraid she’ll feel awkward.”
A little while later, Mingxian also came back from Qili. The first thing she said upon seeing Shang Lu was. “Not bad, Lulu – broad-minded, posting on Weibo for your sister-in-law. All that doting from your big brother wasn’t wasted.”
Shang Lu: “…”
He said through gritted teeth. “That was for Ke Yu.”
Shang Mingxian gave an absent “Mm-hm,” already scheming. “How should I broach the subject of endorsement fees?”
Ke Yu was laughing so hard she could barely speak. “Isn’t my free labor enough for you?”
“Too expensive – ten million a year, and sixty percent goes to the agency.” Shang Mingxian said seriously, “Ten million – that’s enough to replace the painting in the atrium.”
Ke Yu asked, “Don’t you think your sense of pricing is a little out of whack?”
Mingbao arrived around two in the afternoon, driving her flashy silver Porsche 911, wearing a pleated skirt and knee-high riding boots. She came clattering in like a little sparrow. “Big sister-in-law! Big sister-in-law! Sign this for me…”
She looked around. “Huh? She isn’t here yet?”
Mingxian was holding a small jar of bird feed in her hand. “Not yet. Want to come feed the birds with us?”
Passing through one grand doorway and hall after another, they unexpectedly ran into Wen Youyi.
Shang Mingxian immediately confessed without being asked, “…Mom, I promise! No one’s going to end up in the hospital this time!”
She had no sense of moderation when feeding them – every time, a few would end up needing a vet to manually aid their digestion.
Mingbao walked beside Shang Lu, casting a teasing glance his way. “You’re pretty good at saying one thing and meaning another. Didn’t you say you and Ying Yin were sworn enemies? How come you took the initiative to post on Weibo?”
Shang Lu: “…”
He opened his mouth.
“Forget it.”
Amidst the dense dark green shade, shallow pools of water stretched out, where hundreds of flamingos in varying shades of pink stood – some sleeping on one leg, others spreading their wings and stretching their necks. The breeze rippled the water’s surface, and those ripples, too, seemed pink.
However, flamingos were the kind of creature that looked better than they sounded. They’d been feeding them for a while when Mingzhuo video-called – and her first words were: “So noisy.”
“You dare call Dad’s love birds noisy,” Mingbao said.
Mingzhuo rolled her eyes. “Don’t try to lecture me. Find a quiet place.”
“Big brother should be back soon too,” Mingxian said, handing the feed jar to a servant and starting back along the path they’d come from.
“I still haven’t seen what our big sister-in-law looks like in person,” Mingzhuo said, pushing open the door to the lab’s changing room and sitting down on the bench.
“Whose fault is it that you’re in America?”
They chatted the whole way back and had just rounded the front hall when they heard the electric iron gates slowly sliding open. The brothers and sisters all paused, waiting for the Taycan to cruise up the slope between the green lawns.
The tree shadows and dappled light of the mountainside scattered across the pale blue body of the car, carrying a flowing, painterly beauty.
The car came to a stop. Mingxian said to the screen, “She’s here.”
Servants had already stepped forward to open the doors for the driver and passenger seats.
The click of high heels landed softly on the white marble floor.
Ying Yin had been nervous the entire drive over. But at this moment – perhaps because the sea breeze was just right, and everything in the air – the fragrance of flowers, the temperature, the humidity, even the oxygen level – was so perfectly right, it made her feel at ease, made her relax.
Shang Shao took her hand. After a few steps, this eldest brother asked casually, “Playing doormen, are we?”
Ming Xian quickly held up his phone. “Mingzhuo’s here too.”
Mingzhuo waved through the screen. “Hello Leo, I’m here to welcome our sister-in-law.”
At Shang Shao’s nod of encouragement, Ying Yin took the phone and greeted her with a hint of restraint. “Hello, Mingzhuo.”
On the other end of the screen was a young woman in a white lab coat, wearing rimless glasses, her hair tied back in a simple ponytail. She had a cool, clear temperament about her – like a cup of sterile distilled water – completely different from her other four siblings.
Mingzhuo’s screen was now filled with Ying Yin’s face. Of course she’d seen her posters and movies before, but it was this kind of vividness – unfiltered and unretouched – that truly did justice to her beauty. Shang Mingzhuo was momentarily struck speechless, and only after a long pause did she say, “Hello, Yinyin. Your beauty has left me in awe.”
Ying Yin: “…”
Shang Shao lightly flicked the screen, as if flicking her forehead.”Don’t scare her.”
Then he said to Ying Yin, “Her way of thinking is very ‘Junyi’ – a smarter version of Junyi.”
Ying Yin instantly understood and laughed at the idea of Junyi becoming an adjective.
Wen Youyi heard the servants’ announcement and came out to greet them – by the time she arrived, the video call had already ended, and the group was busy examining the pink diamond engagement ring on Ying Yin’s finger.
Wen Youyi chided them playfully. “Is there no place to sit in the house?”
They promptly scurried out to the garden, sat down, and slowly sipped their tea while leisurely taking in the world.
Shang Shao held his coffee cup by the ear, his other hand never letting go of Ying Yin’s hand resting on his leg. “Although Lulu’s Weibo post beat the group announcement to the punch, the sentiment behind it is still precious, wouldn’t you say?”
Shang Lu: “…”
Suppressing his laughter along with Ke Yu, Shang Lu gave up on explaining and leaned forward politely. “Two hundred million at the box office – thank you.”
The main residence at Deep Water Bay had a dedicated banquet pavilion, not far from the flamingo island. It featured French-style dark grey diamond-shaped flat tiles, floor-to-ceiling windows on all sides, surrounded by lush green foliage outside – palm trees, areca palms, monstera leaves, nandina – and the rest Ying Yin couldn’t name. She only felt that they were spaced with perfect rhythm, complementing each other beautifully. Among the groves, green and white peacocks roamed freely, a visual treat for diners.
As dusk gradually closed in, scattered lights began to glow. Servants filed in carrying trays, and upon seeing Shang Qingye, they all stopped to greet him.
Shang Qingye entered the pavilion just as Ke Yu was telling the story of her second visit, when she’d gotten lost in the garden.
He paused, listened quietly for a moment, and a smile rose on his face. After that episode passed, he walked over amid the laughter of the group. “I’m late – kept you all waiting.”
The children all stood up and vied to complain. “Dad, you’re not punctual – you made us go hungry again.”
Shang Qingye washed his hands and dried them with a clean towel before reaching out to Ying Yin. “Welcome to our home.”
“Hello, Uncle.” Ying Yin lightly touched the tips of his fingers with hers, visibly reserved.
It wasn’t her fault – a man like him, probably only Wen Youyi could face without flinching.
Shang Qingye smiled. “You’re not officially married yet, so it’s understandable that you’re not used to changing how you address me. However,” he glanced meaningfully at Shang Shao, “that day isn’t far off now, is it?”
The rest of them started cheering. Ming Bao popped open a bottle of sparkling wine -with a pop, the cork flew far across the room. Amid the sweet, fragrant bubbles, dinner officially began.
They were all family, so there was no need for much ceremony. Nestled among floral arrangements and branches, the crystal chandelier’s light danced across glasses filled with champagne and fine wine. Frequent clinks of “Cheers!” and the clatter of “It’s my turn for this toast!” rang out.
Mingbao had a firm grip on a small silver spoon, and by the time she clinked it against her wine glass for the sixth time, she’d finally earned everyone’s disapproval.
“Little Mingbao is so talkative today,” Mingxian said, propping her chin on her hand and laughing at her.
Mingbao swallowed, “Last one!”
“Last one?” Mingxian asked. “You’ve already toasted big brother and sister-in-law, Mom and Dad, me, Mingzhuo, Lulu, and Xiao Dao – what’s left?”
As she counted them off, everyone else burst out laughing, saying our babe really spreads the love evenly.
Reminded by his words, Mingbao realized she really had covered everyone. Her eyes sparkled as she looked around, and she said cheerfully, “I know! I know!”
The clinking sound rang out again – like the passing of Santa’s sleigh, the arrival of angelic bells, the chime of a wind chime turning in the breeze, a tram gliding into a night festooned with lanterns.
“I want to toast Deep Water Bay – may it have days like this every year, and nights like this every year!”
