Can't Hide My Love for You - Chapter 32

At the planning office for the film Interstellar Odyssey, the atmosphere was tense.

“Old Chen, Cheng Yixin’s manager rejected us. They claimed her schedule is full. We have no choice but to recast the female lead,” the producer announced as he walked in.

Director Chen Sheng was busy discussing special effects costumes with the head of the wardrobe department. He glanced at the producer before pointing at a design sketch. “Get a prototype made for this style. Remember, this part needs to look high-quality. Cost is no object; our budget is more than enough.”

“Understood, Director Chen,” the designer replied before heading out.

Once the room cleared, Chen Sheng sat back on his leather sofa. “The filming date is set. If she had no time, why bother auditioning? They didn’t even try to come up with a decent excuse.” He sighed, adjusting his collar. “It seems I’ve truly become a ‘has-been’ director. Even a rookie actress feels she can turn me down.”

“She was clearly angling for the lead role. We gave her a chance, and she threw it back in our faces,” the producer grumbled. “Forget her. We aren’t short on actresses. It’s her loss.”

“Luckily, we have a backup for the lead,” Chen Sheng said. “I’ll have someone contact her immediately. We need to finalize this before the auspicious start date.”

“What’s the rush? She won’t run away.”

“We only get the rest of the investment funds once we start filming,” Chen Sheng noted. He paused, then added, “This ‘President Nian’ is quite a character. I haven’t even met him, yet he dropped over a billion based on a plot summary. He’s truly loaded.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? A great story, a gold-medal director like you, and a bit of nostalgia—we’ll break box office records. To people like him, a billion is just a small investment,” the producer chuckled. “No messy ‘investor-pick’ actors, no talentless ‘vases’ getting in through the back door. He just lets you make a good movie. In today’s market, a backer like President Nian is a dream.”

Just then, an assistant knocked and rushed in, looking panicked. “Director Chen, President Nian’s secretary just called! He’s coming in person to check on the investment. He’s already on his way and will be here any minute!”

Both men stood up abruptly, sharing a look of alarm.

“Why is he coming now? The secretary always handled things before. Is he planning to withdraw his funding?” the producer whispered.

“Stay calm,” Chen Sheng said, regaining his composure. “The main cast is set, and we’re moving into phase one. It’s normal for an investor to want an update.” He straightened his suit. “Let’s go down to meet him.”

“Director Chen,” the assistant added, “the secretary said there’s no need for a reception. They’ll come up on their own.”

“Old Chen,” the producer asked, “who exactly is this President Nian?”

“I don’t know,” Chen Sheng admitted. He had been introduced through a middleman while he was still struggling to piece together a budget from several smaller shareholders. Then, the wealthy President Nian appeared, claiming he wanted to pivot from the manufacturing industry to film and offered to cover the entire cost—over a billion dollars—himself.

Downstairs, a Lincoln business van pulled up. A secretary stepped out to open the rear door for a man wearing a white, traditional Chinese Tang suit. The fabric looked simple, but the hand-stitched embroidery of a python pattern revealed its immense value.

“President Nian, hello. I am Xiao Li,” the assistant greeted them, recognizing the secretary. “Director Chen is waiting in the office. Please, this way.”

President Nian’s sharp, hawk-like eyes swept over the assistant before he gave a curt nod. He walked with his hands behind his back, moving with a confident, leisurely stride that commanded the room without effort.

When the office door opened, Chen Sheng was surprised. The man was older than he expected. Dressed in his casual silk suit, he looked less like a billionaire and more like an old man heading to a teahouse.

“President Nian, hello. I am the General Director, Chen Sheng…”

“Don’t mind me. I was just out for tea and decided to drop by,” President Nian said, sitting on a single sofa. He smiled, noticing the two men sitting stiffly across from him. “I heard the cast is finalized? Everything went smoothly?”

“Yes, very smoothly!” Chen Sheng quickly handed over the files. “These are the actor profiles.”

As the old man flipped through the files, Chen Sheng felt a nagging sense of familiarity. “President Nian… you look quite familiar.”

The secretary replied, “Our chairman’s surname is Feng. His given name is Nian.”

The color drained from the directors’ faces. They might not have recognized his face, but the name Feng Nian was legendary in the world of high finance.

“Chairman Feng… of the Feng Group?!” the producer stammered.

“Eh—” Feng Nian waved a hand. “I’m retired. This investment has nothing to do with the Feng Group; it’s just a personal interest of mine.”

Chen Sheng began to sweat. He realized that Feng Nian’s daughter, Feng Xinlan, owned Xinyu Media—the very company representing Cheng Yixin, the actress he had just rejected.

Feng Nian looked up, catching Chen Sheng’s micro-expression. “These actors look decent. Plenty of work experience.” He closed the folder. “Xiao Chen, I told you when I invested: I don’t understand the technical stuff. Casting, costumes, props—that’s all your job. I won’t interfere.”

Chen Sheng sighed in relief, but it was short-lived.

“However,” Feng Nian continued, “I am quite interested in the recent news regarding the controversy over the female lead.”

Chen Sheng explained quickly, “Are you referring to the rumors about Han Lian and Cheng Yixin having a conflict during auditions? We’ve clarified that. It was just an intense rehearsal. No one was hurt.”

“Good,” Feng Nian stroked his beard. “You have the audition recordings, right? Let me see what kind of acting causes such a stir.”

Unable to refuse, Chen Sheng had the footage pulled up. After watching the entire process, the old man took a slow sip of tea. “I think that Xiao Cheng girl acted quite well. Why wasn’t she chosen?”

The producer spoke up, “Chairman Feng, we did offer it to Cheng Yixin, but her schedule was full.”

The old man played dumb. “Does that have anything to do with why you didn’t pick her initially?”

Chen Sheng hesitated. “Chairman Feng, both are excellent actresses. We chose Han Lian because she helps us save on promotional costs. Plus… her husband, who is also an actor, agreed to a cameo for free. It saves us a significant amount of capital.”

Chen Sheng expected the investor to be pleased with his frugality. Instead, Feng Nian sighed.

“I see. It seems I have no way to spend my 1.2 billion then.” He stood up slowly. “I invested because I wanted to support the industry. I chose you because I thought a famous director like you would have principles. But if you’re so good at saving money, you clearly don’t need over a billion. Let’s cut the investment in half.”

“What?!” The director and producer were stunned. They tried to follow him to explain, but the secretary blocked them.

Back in the car, the secretary asked, “Chairman, we haven’t finished the contract for Interstellar Odyssey. If you don’t want to invest, should we just withdraw?”

“I am a man of my word,” Feng Nian said, looking out the window. “But how much I invest is another matter. I hate these ‘hidden rules’ and partners who scheme for their own benefit.”

“What if Chen Sheng invites Cheng Yixin back?” the secretary asked. “She’s been very close with Ms. Chi lately.”

“If they just announced someone else and she agrees to take the role now…” The old man paused. “I’d look down on her. My granddaughter wouldn’t play with someone who has no backbone.”

At Xinyu Media

“Is the hot water ready? Heat packs, blankets—get them all!”

In the filming room, Li Wenjing was a bundle of nerves. The “Ice Bucket Challenge” was about to happen.

Cheng Yixin stood before the camera, offering a perfect professional smile. Splash! A bucket of ice water was poured over her head. She suppressed a shiver, maintaining her grace.

“I am donating to children in mountain areas. I hope everyone pays more attention to rural left-behind children. The next person I challenge is…”

As soon as the recording stopped, she sneezed violently. “Ah, so cold!”

After changing into dry clothes and wrapping herself in a blanket, Cheng Yixin sat with a hot water bottle.

“I don’t know why you insisted on this,” Li Wenjing scolded gently. “Your competitive streak is too much. You just finished your period; your immunity is low.”

“Because,” Cheng Yixin said seriously, “one bucket of water means a 10,000 yuan donation for those kids. It’s a good bargain. I want to do something meaningful… like President Chi does.”

Li Wenjing looked at her and smirked. “You’re in trouble. You’ve fallen in love.”

“Wh-what? No,” Cheng Yixin stammered. She knew how to act “in love,” but she didn’t know the real feeling. All she knew was that being with Chi Yi made her feel safe.

Later that evening, Cheng Yixin felt a fever coming on. When she got home, she collapsed on the sofa and fell into a deep sleep.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Chi Yi. The older woman was carrying her from the sofa to the bed. Cheng Yixin instinctively wrapped her arms around Chi Yi’s neck.

“Xiao Yu told me you weren’t feeling well,” Chi Yi said, her voice calm but her expression tight.

“That big mouth…” Cheng Yixin muttered. She could tell Chi Yi was “unhappy.”

“You have a fever. Did you take medicine?”

“No, I was too tired.”

Chi Yi brought water and a thermometer. “Check your temperature first.”

Cheng Yixin obeyed, watching Chi Yi. “You’re angry.”

“I’m not angry,” Chi Yi replied. “I’m just… unhappy. I told you not to do the challenge. But I also know that if I get angry while you’re sick, you’ll only feel worse and more aggrieved.”

Cheng Yixin felt a pang of guilt. She reached out from under the blanket and hooked her fingers with Chi Yi’s. “Be happy? I’ll do better next time. I reflect on my actions.”

Chi Yi’s tension finally broke. She tucked Cheng Yixin’s hand back under the covers. “Keep your hands inside so you don’t catch a chill.”

“I’ll be itchy if you let go,” Cheng Yixin teased.

Chi Yi looked her straight in the eye. “But I can’t bear to let go.”

The atmosphere stilled for a few seconds before both women laughed. After Cheng Yixin ate some porridge and took her medicine, she told Chi Yi to go home so she wouldn’t catch the virus.

“You’re not staying?” Cheng Yixin joked, trying to regain some ground. “I’m a patient.”

Chi Yi paused at the door. “I’m just going to wash the dishes. You should sleep.”

But when Chi Yi returned, she didn’t just tuck her in. She leaned over, cupping Cheng Yixin’s face. Before Yixin could process it, Chi Yi’s lips were on hers—not a light tap, but a real, lingering kiss.

Chi Yi pulled back, grazing her own lower lip with her thumb. “Now I don’t have to worry about being infected.”

She turned and left the room with the tray, leaving Cheng Yixin frozen in bed, her heart racing like a wild animal.