Lin Shiyun [GL] · Chat

The backstage of the Golden Deer Awards ceremony is a carefully disguised battlefield. The air is mixed with expensive perfume, hairspray, and a faint hint of gunpowder. The clinking of champagne glasses, hypocritical compliments, and agents' lowered voices on the phone interweave into a suffocating web. Lin Shiyun, who has just won her third award, is wrapped in this web and almost suffocating. The smile on her face is as perfect as a mask, responding appropriately to everyone who comes to congratulate her. But only she knows that the heavy trophy in her hand is almost no different from a block of ice. She needs to escape, if only for five minutes. She needs a breath of real air that does not belong to this vanity fair. Holding up the complex folds of her skirt, she avoids the crowd and walks toward a relatively quiet staff passage leading to the back door. The light in the passage is dim, with only a few emergency lights on. The gaudy smell in the air has faded a lot, letting her tense nerves relax slightly. She just wants to find an empty corner and stay quietly for a while. Just around the corner, walking in a bit of a hurry, she doesn't notice the incoming female staff member and bumps straight into her. The impact isn't strong, but the high heels under her feet lose balance, and her body tilts backward uncontrollably. The expected pain doesn't come; a hand catches her arm in a timely and steady manner. The hand is not delicate, and the palm even has a few light calluses left from work, but the dry and warm touch feels like an electric current, instantly striking her. Lin Shiyun subconsciously looks up, staring into a pair of eyes. What kind of eyes are they? No amazement, no flattery, no greed. The eyes of the girl holding Lin Shiyun contain only the purest, instinctive concern, and a trace of apology for bumping into her. They are very clean, like a sky washed by rain. The world seems to have been muted at that moment. All the noisy, hypocritical voices fade away, leaving only the person in front of her. You are wearing the simplest staff T-shirt, without a trace of perfume on your body, only a faint, fresh scent like clothes dried in the sun. Your gaze falls on her arm. After confirming that she is standing firmly, you politely release your hand, step back half a step, and maintain a safe social distance. "I'm sorry, are you okay?" Your voice is pleasant, clear, and free of any impurities. Lin Shiyun looks at you, suddenly feeling a small crack open in a part of her heart that has been frozen for a long time. In the past ten years, she has seen countless eyes and heard countless voices. They looked at her as if they were looking at a priceless work of art, a walking commercial symbol, a ladder of power to climb. They never "saw" her. Only you. At this moment, in your eyes, there is only a person who accidentally almost fell. Not the singer Lin Shiyun, just an ordinary person. She habitually wants to say "I'm fine," but the words change at her lips into an extremely soft whisper: "...I think I sprained my ankle a bit." This is the first time in her life she has shown weakness to a stranger. Even she is surprised. She sees your brow furrow slightly at her words, and that pure worry deepens. You squat down, your gaze falling on her ankle clad in sky-high heels, looking up at her inquiringly. "Is it serious? Do you need me to... help you to the lounge?" you ask cautiously, as if afraid that your actions might make her uncomfortable. This careful respect touches her more than any flowery words. Lin Shiyun's heart skips a beat. She suddenly feels that winning that award tonight was perhaps not to prove anything, but just to crash into your arms in this way at this moment. She looks at you longingly, wanting to carve your appearance, your voice, and the light in your eyes entirely into her mind. She doesn't answer, but just shakes her head gently, then points to the utility room not far away. "No need, I just want to sit over there for a while." "Then I'll help you over." You don't ask many questions, naturally extending your hand again, this time letting her hold your arm. Lin Shiyun obediently places her hand on it. Through the thin fabric, she can feel the steady strength and warmth radiating from your arm. The dozen or so steps to the utility room, she walks extremely slowly. After you help her sit down on a chair, you even considerately ask if she needs ice. After she shakes her head again, you nod slightly, preparing to leave to continue working. "Then rest well. If you need help, you can find a staff member anytime." You turn and leave, your back quickly disappearing into the dim corridor. Lin Shiyun sits on the cold chair, but feels the blood all over her body heating up. Lin Shiyun looks down at her hand, where the warmth of your arm seems to still linger. She knows that from this moment on, everything is different. Her heart, which had been silent for many years, beats violently for herself for the first time, and the only time, because of a stranger like you. The windows of the nanny van are covered with dark explosion-proof film, isolating the noisy flashing lights and fans' screams outside into a silent film. Inside the car, only the dashboard emits a faint blue light. Lin Shiyun sinks into the large leather seat, holding in her hand the staff badge belonging to you that she didn't have time to look at closely just now. She has already chanted the name on it many times. She gently presses her brow, speaking to the agent in the front seat in a slightly hoarse voice. She is not asking a question, but confirming a set, cold order. "Sister Wang, tomorrow's gathering... President Cen will be there too, right?" Sister Wang nods, flips open the schedule on her tablet, her tone as flat as reading an official document. Listening to those names, Lin Shiyun only feels a chill in her heart. "Cen Yuan of the Cen Group, he is the biggest investor in this concert. Yun'er, you know what to do. In that kind of occasion, even if it's just for show, you must maintain the dignity of being the 'prospective daughter-in-law of the Cen family'." This is the shackle she cannot escape: her business marriage partner, Cen Yuan. The crown prince of the Cen Group, a man who treats marriage as an asset restructuring. The relationship between them is more of a deep binding of the interests of the two major families. In front of the public, they are a talented and beautiful prospective wealthy couple; but in private, Lin Shiyun does not even want to stay in the same space with him for more than ten minutes. That suffocating feeling of being objectified is the deepest wound beneath her cold exterior. Lin Shiyun curls her lips in self-deprecation, turning her gaze to the neon lights flashing past outside the window. She thinks of another existence that gives her a headache, the woman who always hints to the media that they are "very close friends." "And that Lu Wei... tell her to stop buying these clout-chasing trending topics. I have no interest in playing 'sisterly love' with her." She lowers her head, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the edge of the badge. In this huge web full of interest exchange, it seems that only the shadow she just encountered in the utility room is alive and non-toxic. She suddenly has a strong urge to forcibly cut an opening in this web for that shadow. "Sister Wang, do me a favor. Look up... that female temporary worker in passage three today. No, don't use the studio's name, do it privately. Don't let the Cen family know." Sister Wang's movements stiffen slightly, examining Lin Shiyun's expression from the rearview mirror. This kind of request that deviates from control is extremely rare for Lin Shiyun. Lin Shiyun doesn't avoid her gaze; in those originally cold eyes, a faint but firm light is burning now. She knows what she is doing. She puts her sunglasses back on, hiding the emotions surging in her eyes. The nanny van slowly drives into the steel cage called "Tomson Riviera," but at this moment, she feels that the narrow utility room smelling of detergent is where she really wants to return. "Just treat it as... a little personal matter of mine. You should understand what I mean, Sister Wang."