Chapter 56

*Crush: A Glimpse of Dawnlight*
Qin Sang sighed all day long. Whenever she had nothing to do, she’d glance at her phone. Even Xiaoxiao couldn’t stand it anymore and asked, puzzled, “Sang-sang, why do I feel like you’ve changed after coming back from your hometown? What’s wrong with you? You look distracted all the time.”
Because of work, Wen-jie had added Xie Yuncheng on WeChat too. She’d seen clearly the moment he posted that朋友圈 a while ago.
If outsiders couldn’t recognize it, that would be understandable. But Wen-jie had been with Qin Sang day in and day out for years—how could she not tell? Sneaking around, playing the “mystery riddle” game.
Wen-jie let out a cold laugh. “Distracted? More like her soul ran off with someone else. Pathetic.”
“Huh?” Xiaoxiao was confused, but she still got the gist. “Sang-sang, you’re dating?”
“Wrong. She’s not dating,” Wen-jie corrected. “She’s having a relapse.”
Qin Sang cupped her face, looking innocent. “Wen-jie, how did you know I’m lovesick? So long-distance relationships are this hard, huh. Those couples who actually make it work are amazing. I can’t stand it for even a second.”
Wen-jie rolled her eyes. “Hurry up and get her an appointment.”
Xiaoxiao was even more curious. “Who are you dating, Sang-sang? How come I’ve never heard you mention him? Did you secretly hook up with your boyfriend while I was preparing for my re-exam?”
“You’ll find out next time.” Qin Sang smiled mysteriously.
Wen-jie raised her brows. “You’re not planning to go public?”
“No need to deliberately announce it, and I’m not planning to hide it either. We’ll just take it step by step.”
Qin Sang thought for a moment. “Once it’s tied to our industry, it’ll inevitably become a public focus. His job is pretty private, so it’s better not to be too loud about it.”
She had thought it through: even if she did want to go public, she’d discuss it with Wen-jie first, so the studio wouldn’t be caught off guard and dragged into it for nothing.
But she also didn’t plan to deceive fans. Fans had a right to know. If Xie Yuncheng weren’t working for a confidential unit—if she didn’t want to show off, and didn’t want to put more unnecessary attention and pressure on him—she might have chosen to announce it directly.
Wen-jie sighed. “I even prepared several PR plans. Turns out you weren’t going to announce the relationship outright.”
“Wen-jie, why do you sound like you’re kind of… disappointed?”
Qin Sang lifted a brow, baffled. “If I go public, wouldn’t it be more trouble for you? My commercial value would drop, and it might even affect other resources. Wouldn’t that give you a headache? I’m dating in secret and you’re not even mad?”
“Why would I be mad?” Wen-jie gave a fake smile. “You’re not a teenaged child star. Dating isn’t illegal. And you’re not a fresh twenty-something idol girl who must put career first. Sure, your career matters, but you’re still a normal person. It’s not like you have to cut off all human emotions and never be allowed to love.”
Besides, Qin Sang didn’t rely on traffic to eat. She herself was traffic. Even if she stayed quiet for three years and came back, she could still stir up a storm. And since her debut, she’d never lacked controversy. Even if she were upright and had nothing to fear, even if she hadn’t touched “men” at all, wouldn’t gossip magazines still fabricate messy borderline rumors?
She didn’t depend on traffic; she also never built a “single” persona. In that case, she might as well pick a time and properly date—at least she wouldn’t be carrying those insults while never even kissing a man. That would be too unfair.
Qin Sang gave a thumbs-up. “Wen-jie is wise.”
Wen-jie couldn’t help laughing. “You little brat—always talking nonsense.”
Xiaoxiao felt something was off, but couldn’t put her finger on it. She was about to ask more, but Wen-jie shooed her out along with the rest.
Alone in the makeup room, Qin Sang scrolled on her phone. There wasn’t much to talk about, really. Xie Yuncheng’s schedule almost never matched hers, and he often went out of contact. When they did chat, it was usually her sending long paragraphs, while he’d only reply with one or two lines when he finally had signal. On the rare occasions their signals lined up in real time, it felt like their ancestors must have been burning incense for them.
She used to know long-distance relationships were hard. She just hadn’t known that dating someone from a confidential unit was even harder. Xie Yuncheng was even busier than she was; his phone often wasn’t on him, and the signal where he stayed was poor. It was rare to get in touch normally.
Sometimes Qin Sang would take a couple photos—nothing special, mostly just daily-life snapshots. After she joined the crew, her days were monotonous anyway. She’d occasionally complain to him about weird things that happened on set.
She flipped through their chat history. It was still stuck at last night, when she’d said:
【Someone in our crew has a myna bird—super smart. If you talk to it, it answers back. At noon during break, Director Zhou heard it was “spiritual,” so he went over to tease it. Director Zhou asked the bird what its name was—guess what the bird said?】
Xie Yuncheng only replied in the middle of the night:
【What did it say?】
She’d just arrived at the hotel then, exhausted, and had already fallen asleep without replying. The morning was opening-ceremony stuff and then a media press event; she didn’t even have time to touch her phone.
Only now—while other actors were being interviewed—did she have a moment to glance at it. She replied:
【The bird said: “I’m your grandpa.” Now the whole crew knows Director Zhou has a “bird grandpa” dropping by to cameo, hahaha.】
She also sent a sticker of a cat flopping and rolling around. Then she adjusted her posture, tilted her head at the mirror, and snapped a photo. The phone covered her face. She was wearing an apricot off-shoulder gown today, her hair falling softly over her shoulders. The picture showed only half of her collarbone, and her moist lips curved into a sweet smile.
【Image】
【Do I look good? Working hard today too.】
【Today’s girlfriend-exclusive.】
【Please reply to me—it's been 24 hours and you still haven’t answered your kissy girlfriend (cat rolling)】
Qin Sang hadn’t expected a reply so soon. After all, although Xie Zhenting’s case hadn’t fully concluded, the evidence wasn’t enough to convict him. She’d heard the whistleblower might also be implicated in that major corruption-and-bribery case; if the whistleblower wasn’t clean either, then whether Xie Zhenting truly committed corruption and bribery was still uncertain.
And the aerospace institute also seemed to have something urgent; they’d summoned Xie Yuncheng back at short notice. The day he sent her to the airport, he hadn’t waited long before boarding a flight to the northwest.
She was about to退出 the chat when her phone buzzed.
【X: Sang-sang, I’m in a meeting.】
Qin Sang paused, then immediately got another message.
【X: My phone was just being screen-shared.】
Then that meant—everything—was—seen?!
The photo she’d just sent—had it been broadcast live the whole time?
Qin Sang lowered her head in frustration, still clinging to a last thread of hope as she asked:
【Then what I just said…】
【X: Yes. I saw it all.】
Qin Sang suddenly felt so ashamed.
【I don’t want to face anyone. This is so embarrassing.】
【Cat tantrum.jpg】
【X: It’s fine.】
【X: My girlfriend is very pretty.】
Xie Yuncheng looked down at his phone. The person on the other end didn’t reply for a long time. The chat showed “typing…” for ages, and in the end she only sent a crying sticker.
He couldn’t help curling the corner of his lips. He opened the photo and studied it carefully. He’d been so busy during the meeting that he’d forgotten, and he hadn’t expected she’d send a message at that moment. The image had flashed by; he’d quickly exited WeChat.
When the leader from the institute came out, he just smiled and patted Xie Yuncheng on the shoulder. “Youth is good. Comrade Xiao Xie’s girlfriend is quite clingy. Next time, don’t forget to spend more time with her. Our institute isn’t some inhumane place—we can’t let work make you neglect your personal life. Work is important, and family is important too.”
Xie Yuncheng chuckled softly, his voice warm. “I’ll follow the organization’s guidance. Next time I’ll handle my personal matters properly. Sorry to make you laugh.”
After the leader left, He Chengyu came out of the meeting room. Seeing Xie Yuncheng still there, he hurried over. “Boss, you really are dating someone?”
A while back, Xie Yuncheng had posted a photo of holding hands on WeChat—shattering countless young hearts. The institute had been buzzing. He Chengyu hadn’t really believed it. But during today’s meeting, a girl’s selfie had popped up on Xie Yuncheng’s WeChat. Only then did He Chengyu finally believe: Xie Yuncheng really was in a relationship.
Xie Yuncheng didn’t deny it. “Yeah. I am.”
He Chengyu thought it was fascinating. “Who’s嫂子? Do we know her? Boss, when are you going to bring嫂子 out so we can all have a meal together?”
Xie Yuncheng moved too fast—switched screens and exited WeChat in one smooth motion. Everyone was stunned. They only knew he had a girlfriend, but had no idea who she was. Even though the photo had been blurry, He Chengyu could tell from the silhouette alone that she must be beautiful.
He was genuinely curious what kind of person could make this “Buddha” fall in love. He hadn’t worked under Xie Yuncheng for only a day or two; there were plenty of girls in the institute—introduced by leaders or pursuing him on their own. He never seemed interested. And now he’d found a girlfriend in silence.
“We’ll see,” Xie Yuncheng said with a faint curl of his lips. “She’s shy.”
Song Ziyue, on the other hand, stayed calm. “Boss, congratulations.”
No matter who it was, the person Xie Yuncheng chose was someone worthy of their respect. In their line of work, finding a suitable partner was truly difficult. The other person also had to be tolerant enough to endure the ways this job could make someone absent from ordinary life.
He Chengyu still wanted to say more, but he accidentally hit the volume key. The phone in his pocket lit up, and audio played out loud:
“Sang-sang, this role seems quite different from your previous ones. Is this your first time challenging science fiction—are you under a lot of pressure?”
He Chengyu jumped. He suddenly remembered he’d been watching a livestream. The stream hadn’t started before the meeting, and he hadn’t exited—he’d just stuffed the phone into his pocket. Ever since he watched that awards show on Weibo, he’d started looking up Qin Sang’s work. By now he was a hardcore fan in Qin Sang’s super-topic.
Chasing celebrities was private enough. Doing it at work was even more inappropriate. He Chengyu smiled awkwardly. “Sorry, I forgot to mute my phone.”
Xie Yuncheng raised a brow. “What are you watching?”
“It’s…” He Chengyu knew Xie Yuncheng didn’t chase celebrities—most people at the institute weren’t interested in stars. Embarrassed, he handed the phone over. “It’s that actress you saw before—Qin Sang. She’s pretty famous, and her acting is really good. She’s about to shoot a new film, I think. This is their press conference.”
The video showed the cast standing on a makeshift stage. You could tell the setup was simple: microphones crowded half the frame, and the clicking of cameras never stopped.
A reporter asked a question. Standing in the center spot, Qin Sang looked composed. The apricot gown made her features even gentler. Those naturally rounded, peach-blossom eyes of hers became even more dazzling when she smiled. She smiled and said:
“This role is indeed a big challenge for me. Honestly, it’s the role that has given me the most pressure in my acting career, because the character is quite different from who I am. I do worry whether I can play her well.”
The reporter pressed on, “Then what made you take the role? Science fiction is still relatively rare in China. Are you worried that the box office later might affect reputation?”
“Of course, the most fundamental reason I took it is still the character’s own charm—it convinced me. As for box office, that’s not something I should be thinking about. I just need to do my job well. But recently, I met someone who made me understand that sometimes the result doesn’t matter. What matters is the process. As long as you dare to face difficulties and challenge yourself, then you’ve already beaten the person you used to be.”
The reporter was curious. “Sang-sang, can you tell us who that person is?”
Qin Sang only smiled and shook her head. “It’s not convenient. But if the timing is right, everyone will know.”
Reporters were sharp. They caught the implication in her words and teased half-jokingly, half-probing: “Can I take that as ‘good news is coming soon’?”
Qin Sang blinked playfully. “You guess.”
The live comments rolled so fast they nearly covered the entire screen:
“Wife is so beautiful”
“Ahhh Sang-sang baby, Mom loves you”
“Wuwu is wife dating?”
“Who is it! Which dog man stole our Sang-sang baby!”