Lin Yu'an · chat.title

Tonight is the film festival's closing ceremony and awards gala. The dusk red carpet has just wrapped up, but the bustling energy has carried straight into the banquet hall. Directors, producers, actors, and principal crews have been trickling inside. Those who were answering press questions along the red carpet just moments ago now wear much more relaxed expressions, mingling in small clusters around the dining tables. Some raise glasses to congratulate winning teams, while others take advantage of the rare get-together to discuss new projects currently in development. Lin Yu'an is also in attendance tonight by invitation. On the red carpet, he wore a light taupe casual suit. The fabric lacked the rigid stiffness of traditional formal wear; with natural shoulder lines and a slightly relaxed cut, it stripped away any deliberate formality. Underneath, he wore a thin shirt in a matching shade with the top two buttons undone—no tie, cuffs casually rolled back. His hair is a soft silver-blond, styled loosely, with a few stray strands naturally framing his forehead. Under the venue lights, the tips catch a subtle, warm golden sheen. His facial features are striking—deep-set eyes with an effortless, languid gaze at the corners, paired with a clean, sharp bridge and jawline. Whenever cameras swept across, he always managed to catch the angle naturally, occasionally looking down to listen to a reporter's question, or glancing up with a casual smile, exuding an effortless composure. After his interviews wrapped up, a few familiar journalists called him over to chat a bit longer. During the ceremony, he sat near the main production rows, exchanging greetings with directors and fellow actors he knew well. It wasn't until the after-party began that he finally had some time to himself. The Lin Yu'an of today is no longer the rookie who had to seize every single chance to show his face when he first returned home. At gatherings like this, he now has familiar peers, as well as directors and producers he has previously worked with. When business needs discussing, he treats it with earnest focus; when running into acquaintances, he never shies away from trading a few quips. If teased about his recent drama, he simply laughs it off with a quick remark, carrying none of the self-important air of a movie star. Right now, he is standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows with a director he once collaborated with, a flute of champagne in hand. The two are discussing recent filming schedules, drifting from scripts to actor availability before circling back to prep work on the next project. "You're pretty free this time around. Heard you don't join the set until next month?" the director asked casually. Lin Yu'an swirled his glass, smiling. "Not exactly free. The studio's got a mountain of things waiting for me to handle. Besides, if this project of yours actually gets locked down, whatever free time I have will be gone anyway." A few others who had just joined the conversation chuckled along. The topic soon shifted to tonight's awards ceremony, with someone mentioning having run into you out in the courtyard earlier—saying something had gone wrong with your high heels, like the heel broke, leaving you temporarily unable to return to the banquet hall. Lin Yu'an had been listening quietly, but upon hearing this, his hand holding the wine glass paused for a fraction of a second. He didn't chime in immediately, merely following up on the person's description: "Where did you run into her?" The person pointed toward the courtyard just outside the banquet hall, adding that you seemed to still be there, alone. Lin Yu'an gave a subtle nod, letting none of it show on his face as he smoothly continued the previous conversation for another beat or two. The moment there was a lull in the chatter, he turned slightly and signaled his assistant standing not far away. "Go check with her team and see if her heel really broke. Ask if they have a spare pair. If not, make a quick run to the boutique counter—put it on my tab." The assistant followed his gaze, caught on immediately, and stepped aside with phone in hand to contact your accompanying staff. Before long, the assistant returned to report that the heel was indeed broken and your team didn't have an appropriate spare on hand, so he had rushed over to the boutique counter and bought a pair. Lin Yu'an casually set his glass onto a passing waiter's tray, his expression as composed as ever as he excused himself to the director beside him. "Pardon me for a moment, heading to the restroom." The director waved a hand. "Go ahead, we'll pick this back up when you're back." He smiled in acknowledgment and turned toward the side door. Instead of heading for the restroom, however, he waited at the corner of the corridor for his assistant carrying the shoebox. Taking the box, he told his assistant to head back into the banquet hall, while he took the alternate hallway leading out toward the courtyard. The courtyard is far quieter than the hall inside. The night breeze rustles through the grove, swaying the drooping branches along the path, while gentle light spills across the flagstone pavers. Muffled conversation drifts over occasionally from the distance; through the glass doors, silhouettes still mingle, the clinking of champagne flutes faintly audible. Walking along the courtyard path for a short stretch, Lin Yu'an soon spots you. He doesn't call out from afar. Instead, he slows his pace, first glancing down at the shoe beside your feet. The once-delicate heel is crooked, clearly in no shape to be walked in. "Great timing, huh?" He steps closer, placing the shoebox on the bench beside you, his tone carrying the casual ease reserved only for someone close. "The red carpet's done, the awards ceremony's over, and it chooses right in the middle of the banquet to go on strike. It really knows how to pace its work schedule." With that, he opens the box and lifts out the heels. Setting them before you, he crouches down in front of you. You look at him and ask, "Aren't you supposed to be inside mingling with a wine glass in your hand?" Lin Yu'an glances up at you, seemingly amused by the question. "Yeah, I was." He steadies the shoe, reaching out to support the heel for you, his tone deadpan. "But a wine glass doesn't require my constant supervision. Besides, someone can hold a glass for me, but nobody else can put on your shoes for you, can they?" Lin Yu'an raises a brow, as if an even more amusing thought just occurred to him. With one hand lightly gripping the heel and the other gently cradling your ankle, he lowers his head to slip the shoe onto your foot. "Aren't I already holding my stemmed glass right now?" His light taupe suit wrinkles slightly at the knees with the movement, and his shirt collar sits a little looser than before. Unbothered, he tilts his head to ensure the fit is right, casually gathering the remaining tissue paper from the box and setting it aside.