"Come on, Yang Yang, have a drink with me."
During dinner, Yang Yang brought out a bottle of red wine he had purchased in the Netherlands. Su Wenhong opened it right away, saying that a happy occasion like this called for a toast. He poured a small glass for Yang Yang but quickly helped himself to a few generous ones.
A couple of drinks later, any earlier awkwardness had faded, and the conversation became more relaxed.
"My daughter, I'm not exaggerating when I say she's a gem—both in character and looks. Ever since she was little, neighbors and friends always praised her. Her mother and I have always been proud," Su Wenhong said with a nostalgic sigh.
"Originally, we hoped she'd become a teacher—stable job, good life, no worries. That would've been enough for us. But ever since junior high, she's been obsessed with acting. She started talking about studying at the Central Academy of Drama, and by high school, she was dead set on it. I tried everything to oppose it."
"The entertainment industry is too chaotic. Years ago, an actress tried to buy a place in our complex. The developer turned her away. Why? They didn't want to ruin the neighborhood's environment and reputation."
Yang Yang nodded patiently, catching the slight frown on Su Ye's face. She clearly disagreed but didn't want to contradict her father in front of him. He found it endearing and a little funny.
"Honestly, Uncle," Yang Yang said with a calm smile, "I understand your concern. But every industry has its issues. The entertainment world is just more exposed. There are plenty of respectable, down-to-earth artists who genuinely love their craft. I've met some of them myself."
"In every field, there are people who play the game and those who stay true to their values. It depends on who you choose to surround yourself with."
As Yang Yang spoke, Su Ye squeezed his hand tightly under the table.
Su Wenhong studied both their expressions, then gave a thoughtful nod.
"You're right. Look at football—there's no shortage of scandals either. Remember that story in The Sun? A Page Three model claimed to have been involved with me. I didn't even know her name. Never even heard of her. A teammate showed me the article, and I was completely stunned."
Yang Yang chuckled, knowing that the story had made rounds in the Chinese media as well. It was typical tabloid nonsense, but at the time, it had been everywhere. He had already explained it to Su Ye before, and now he spoke about it openly to show he had nothing to hide.
"The way I see it, we can't live reacting to every rumor. If I avoided the Premier League because of a model's claims, or ignored La Liga because of something Marca prints tomorrow, then where could I even go?"
Su Wenhong laughed and nodded. "You're absolutely right. Just stay true to yourself."
"And as for Su Ye, if acting is what she truly loves, then I'll support her. She has her own dreams and goals, and that's something to be proud of. Honestly, I think she's the kind of person who's destined to grow into one of those great old-school actresses."
That line had everyone at the table laughing.
Su Ye gave Yang Yang a sharp pinch under the table and shot him a playful glare.
She was only nineteen—what was all this talk of growing into an old-school actress?
Still, her flushed cheeks and soft smile gave away just how happy she was.
"Dad, don't worry. I still remember the three things you told me I'm not allowed to do. I won't cross that line," Su Ye said firmly.
Ye Qingqing gently changed the subject, not wanting to linger on past disagreements.
"Alright now, you two are grown-ups. We won't meddle in your choices. Just make sure you treat her well," Su Wenhong said, this time more seriously.
It was Yang Yang's first official visit as Su Ye's boyfriend, but Su Wenhong already knew Yang Yang's character. He liked him. Trusted him.
"Don't worry, Uncle. I promise I will," Yang Yang replied solemnly.
"Good. In that case, let's seal it with a drink," Su Wenhong said, raising his glass.
"Wait—what?" Yang Yang looked at the wine in front of him, slightly panicked.
"I'm a professional footballer, Uncle. I'm not supposed to drink."
"Nonsense! A little wine once in a while won't kill you. Besides, it's a special occasion. This is just one glass. Think of it as a symbolic gesture."
Seeing no way out, Yang Yang reluctantly lifted his glass. Just the smell of the alcohol made him feel tipsy. But when he saw Su Wenhong already down his, he took a breath, held his nose, and drank it.
Technically, footballers weren't banned from alcohol entirely. Some even drank often. It was a matter of control. Still, Yang Yang never touched the stuff.
Tonight was the exception.
The wine burned its way down his throat, and almost immediately, he felt warmth surge in his stomach, his face flushing.
"Wow, that wine..."
"It's hitting already?" Su Wenhong asked, amused.
"A bit dizzy, yeah," Yang Yang muttered, shaking his head.
"Then it's real wine."
Ye Qing gave her husband a sharp look and scolded him for pushing Yang Yang to drink.
"Su Ye, go get him some warm water."
Su Ye hurried off, and Su Wenhong went back to chatting with Yang Yang.
"Where'd you get this bottle, anyway?"
"From the duty-free at Amsterdam Airport," Yang Yang replied, swaying a little.
"How much?"
"Four hundred euros."
"Four hundred euros?!" Su Wenhong sat up straight, blinking. That was a few thousand yuan for one bottle. Just this glass probably cost hundreds.
He thought back to how casually he'd been sipping it earlier and suddenly felt a twinge of regret.
"I like it, but you don't have to bring me anything next time. I'll stick to my Wuliangye—cheap and reliable."
Yang Yang didn't respond.
Across the table, he'd slumped forward, head resting on his arms, fast asleep.
Was this what people meant by a one-glass knockout?
Su Wenhong blinked at the sight, then slowly turned toward his wife's icy stare.
Right. He was the one who insisted Yang Yang drink.
He cleared his throat and gave a helpless smile.
...
...
Yang Yang was completely drunk.
After dinner, Su Ye helped him into the room. The moment he lay down on her bed, he was out like a light.
It was summer, and the air conditioner was already on, so she didn't bother undressing him—just covered him with the quilt and let him rest.
After returning to the living room and helping her mother clean up, Su Ye went to tidy the guest room where she planned to sleep.
Yang Yang was in her room now, something that had never happened before. Besides her father, no man had ever been in that space, much less sleeping in her bed. She lay on the guest bed afterward, but sleep wouldn't come.
She kept thinking about him lying there in her room. It gave her a strange, warm feeling—somewhere between pride and nervousness.
But then another thought struck her.
People say drunk men get thirsty during the night… What if Yang Yang wakes up looking for water?
She immediately got out of bed, went to the kitchen to fill a jug, and tiptoed into her room. The air-conditioning was a bit too cold, so she raised the temperature before setting the jug and cup down on the nightstand.
Then she looked over at him.
He lay there asleep, completely relaxed, as if he belonged there. His breathing was steady. His face, though slightly flushed from the wine, was peaceful.
She moved closer, gently brushing away a few strands of hair from his forehead. It was longer than usual—he hadn't had a haircut in at least two months.
He must've been incredibly busy lately. He never used to let it grow out this much.
Her fingers moved slowly from his hair down to his cheek, brushing over the light stubble on his jawline.
This was the man she had fallen for.
A whole year had passed since they last saw each other. Now he was here again, asleep in her bed, right in front of her. Just the sight of him filled her heart to the brim.
She chuckled softly, overwhelmed by the tenderness she felt.
Suddenly, Yang Yang stirred. His brow furrowed slightly, and he swallowed a few times.
"Water…" he murmured, barely audible.
Su Ye quickly poured some warm water into a cup and leaned in to help him drink, but he was too heavy to lift.
For a moment, she stood frozen. Then a bold idea crossed her mind—something silly, something she'd only seen in TV dramas.
But… maybe just this once?
She hesitated for a second, then gently brought the cup to her lips, took a small sip, and leaned in. Her lips pressed against his. The warm water passed from her mouth to his.
Once. Then again. And a third time.
Yang Yang seemed to calm down, his throat soothed.
She leaned back slightly, whispered near his ear, "Feeling better?"
But before she could react, his arm reached out and wrapped around her waist. His lips found hers again—this time not softly, but hungrily.
Caught off guard, Su Ye resisted at first. Then she felt his hands slide along her waist and spine, every touch igniting something electric.
Her resistance melted.
Just as they were lost in the moment, a quiet creak echoed from outside—the sound of a door opening.
Panic shot through her like a jolt.
She pulled away in a flash, quickly tucking the blanket around Yang Yang. Then she ran to the door and opened it—only to freeze.
Her father, Su Wenhong, was walking by.
Their eyes met.
Su Ye's hair was tousled. Her cheeks were flushed. Her shirt slightly wrinkled. Her expression—guilty.
Su Wenhong raised an eyebrow, but his voice stayed calm. "Couldn't sleep? Getting some water?"
She nodded stiffly, eyes on the floor.
He gave a short sigh. "You two should rest early."
Then, after a few steps, he turned back.
"And… be careful."
Su Ye blushed even deeper, gave a panicked nod, and disappeared back into her room, locking the door behind her.
Back in the other room, Yang Yang hadn't stirred. He remained fast asleep, caught somewhere in a hazy dream that was growing more vivid by the minute.
...
...
The next morning, Yang Yang slowly woke up.
He noticed almost immediately that he wasn't in his own bed. The room around him was warm and tidy, with a light, pleasant fragrance in the air. One glance was enough to tell—it was a girl's room.
A plush white bear sat at the corner of the bed. The sheets were grass green. The air conditioner mounted on the wall was a soft gray, and the bedside table was a pale pink.
At the foot of the bed stood a neatly arranged bookcase filled with books, most of them related to theatre and drama. Nearby was a writing desk, where a small lamp cast light over a row of framed photographs. Some were of Su Ye on stage, still youthful, bright-eyed—pure and captivating.
Next to them were pictures of her parents, and beside those, photos of her and Yang Yang together.
The walls were decorated with stickers and posters, tastefully arranged to add a youthful charm to the room.
This was Su Ye's room.
Yang Yang rubbed his forehead, still feeling the remnants of his hangover.
"Zax, why didn't you wake me up last night?" he muttered toward Zax in his mind.
"You were so drunk you could barely stay conscious," Zax replied flatly. "You couldn't even enter the training space. What was I supposed to do, drag you in myself?"
Only now did Yang Yang realize that even with his absolute authority in the dream training system, certain physical states—like being completely drunk—could lock him out entirely.
He let out a sigh, folded the quilt, turned off the air conditioner, and ran his fingers through his hair before stepping out of the room.
Su Ye must've been listening for him, because just as he opened the door, she walked out of the guest room as well.
The moment their eyes met, Yang Yang smiled sheepishly.
It was a strange feeling—waking up in his girlfriend's room, in her parents' home, no less. A little awkward, a little amusing.
Su Ye didn't say anything at first. She just gave him a playful shove. "You stink of alcohol. Go home and shower. I'll wait for you at the entrance to the neighborhood."
"Alright."
Yang Yang followed her to the elevator, still grinning to himself. Once he left, Su Ye quietly returned inside, walked into her bedroom, and sat down at the edge of the bed.
She reached out, touching the sheets where Yang Yang had just slept.
It was still warm.
And for a long moment, she sat there, smiling to herself in silence.
...
...
The two entered through the south gate of the Summer Palace, jogging northward together. They passed beneath the ancient stone archways, along shaded paths flanked by willow trees, and eventually reached the Seventeen-Arch Bridge that stretched across Kunming Lake to the pier on the island.
As they reached the water's edge, Yang Yang turned to glance sideways.
The morning sunlight fell gently across Su Ye's face, soft and warm. A faint layer of sweat had formed on her skin from the run, catching the light in a way that gave her a subtle glow—delicate, radiant. For a moment, he couldn't look away.
"What are you staring at?" Su Ye asked, half-teasing, half-embarrassed, catching the look on his face.
"I'm admiring a beautiful woman," Yang Yang replied with a grin, leaning casually against the railing.
"Have you seen enough yet?" she shot back, giving him a sideways glance.
"Not even close," he laughed. "I could spend a lifetime looking and still not have my fill."
Her heart stirred. She held his gaze, her eyes lingering.
"What is it?" he asked, noticing the shift in her expression.
"I was just thinking," she said quietly. "There's research showing that in long-distance relationships, feelings can fade over time. The farther apart two people are, the more likely they are to drift. Especially if one of them is more accomplished—they're usually the ones exposed to more temptation and pressure."
Yang Yang nodded. "Hearing that makes me worried. You're beautiful, smart, and talented. There are so many aspiring actors in your school. What if you can't resist all the attention?"
He chuckled as he finished, clearly joking.
"I won't," Su Ye replied firmly.
"I know," Yang Yang said, his tone softening. "And I trust you completely. So you need to trust me too."
After a pause, he added, "Actually, Purdue University did a study that found long-distance couples had a breakup rate of 27%, while local couples had a 30% rate. So technically, we're safer apart."
Su Ye burst out laughing, then tightened her grip on his hand and nodded.
"You're right. It's not about distance. It's about the two people involved. A lot of couples use long-distance as an excuse, but the truth is, it comes down to whether you're with the right person or not."
Yang Yang looked at her intently. "And I'm certain you're the right person."
"And I'm sure you're the one I've been looking for all my life," Su Ye said as she pulled him into a tight embrace.
They stood there quietly for a while, wrapped in each other's warmth, before finally turning back, walking hand in hand along the winding path home.
"Have you been listening to the song I gave you—Making Love Out of Nothing at All?" he asked.
"Of course," Su Ye replied. "It's the only song on my iPod. I listen to it whenever I have free time. I never get tired of it."
"There's another version online. Nicholas Tse sang it during a Daming School concert, not long after Faye Wong announced her engagement."
"I found it," she said. "But I didn't like it much. It's too sad."
"Same," Yang Yang agreed. "Still, listening to it, you can feel the heartbreak. Like a man abandoned, singing out all his grief."
"Don't worry," Su Ye said with a small smile. "You'll never know that kind of pain. I'll never leave you."
"Agh! You got me!" Yang Yang clutched his chest dramatically. "You've shot an arrow right through my heart, goddess. Please, accept my surrender!"
She burst out laughing. "I don't want your knees—I only want your heart."
"Then don't run…" he said, pulling her gently closer as they disappeared into the trees.
...
...
"Eh, eh! Come on now!"
A black Volkswagen cruised along one of Beijing's main roads. In the driver's seat, Wei Zhen tapped the center console in frustration, trying to get the attention of the two people in the car—one sitting next to him in the front passenger seat, the other comfortably seated in the back.
"Can the two of you calm down a bit?" he grumbled. "I get it, you're madly in love, reunited and everything—but spare a thought for the bachelor in the driver's seat, would you? Watching you two is making me want to crash this car out of spite."
"I don't know what you mean," Yang Yang replied, smiling.
"I don't either," Su Ye chimed in with a grin, raising her hand and exchanging a high-five with Yang Yang across the seat.
The synchronized answer hit Wei Zhen like a double blow to the gut.
He groaned. "I swear, Brother Wei, my uncle is already pushing my cousins to get married. If you don't step up your game soon, you'll be stuck eating dog food alone for the rest of your life."
Wei Zhen looked up at the road, sighing deeply, as if mourning the last trace of hope for single men everywhere.
"Oh, by the way," he suddenly remembered, "what time does Winston Bogarde's flight land?"
Originally, Bogarde was supposed to arrive with Yang Yang, but Yang Yang had rushed back a day earlier. The Dutchman would be landing this afternoon.
"A little after two," Yang Yang answered.
"Perfect," Wei Zhen said. "After we drop Su Ye off at school, you and I will head back to the TV station for the interview. Then I'll treat you to lunch. After that, we'll swing by the airport to pick up Bogarde."
"Correction—we, not you," Yang Yang replied, still holding Su Ye's hand. "She's coming too."
Another strike. Wei Zhen clutched at his chest in exaggerated agony. "Why did I ever agree to be your driver again?"
"Come on, Brother Wei, we've been apart for a year. Just endure a little," Yang Yang said, laughing.
The car pulled to a stop at the entrance of an alley outside Su Ye's school. Before she stepped out, Su Ye turned back to Yang Yang, confirming the meeting place once more.
She had originally planned for them to eat at a place Yang Yang would choose and to go there herself after class. But he insisted on picking her up personally. So they had agreed: same spot, here by the alley.
"See you later," she said with a smile as she stepped out.
Coincidentally, at that moment, a short, chubby student standing across the street heard her familiar voice. Curious, he turned his head—only to see Su Ye exiting a car, with none other than Yang Yang sitting in the back seat.
He froze, eyes wide.
That's Su Ye's boyfriend?!
That guy… is him?!
The realization hit him like a freight train. For a moment, his knees nearly buckled.
God help me, this is a story I can brag about for a year. No—for life!
But as Su Ye turned back after seeing Yang Yang off, she spotted the familiar figure. The gentle smile she had worn vanished almost instantly. In its place came a polite but distant expression—friendly enough, but formal, carefully measured.
"Brother Qiaoshan," she greeted.
"Su—uh, Su Ye," the little fat guy stammered, clearly rattled. "Don't worry, I swear on my life, I won't tell a soul. Not a single word. I promise!" He raised a hand like he was taking an oath in court.
Su Ye nodded with a faint smile. "Thank you, Brother Qiaoshan."
...
...
That same afternoon, after dropping Su Ye back at school, Yang Yang and Wei Zhen made their way to the airport once again—this time to pick up Winston Bogarde. As soon as Bogarde arrived, Yang Yang took him straight to the gym, wasting no time.
It was the same fitness club Yang Yang had frequented the year before.
Centrally located near Zhongguancun and in close proximity to both Peking University and Tsinghua University, the gym was housed in a Grade A office building. It boasted spacious interiors, top-notch equipment, and even a large indoor swimming pool.
Both Yang Yang and Bogarde had been impressed with the place during their last visit. The media exposure that followed gave the club a surge in popularity at the time. However, due to poor management and a lack of long-term planning, it had since fallen on hard times and was now on the verge of bankruptcy. The owner was preparing to shut it down.
Wei Zhen had casually mentioned the gym's situation over lunch that day, but he hadn't expected Yang Yang to take such immediate interest.
"Winston," Yang Yang said after their tour of the premises, "didn't you always want to open your own gym?"
Bogarde turned to look at him. "You're thinking of taking over this place?"
"Why not?" Yang Yang smiled. "You bring the expertise, I bring the name and the funding. We partner up, aim for the high-end fitness market. There's definitely potential here."
From Yang Yang's perspective, most of the coaches he'd seen in Chinese fitness clubs lacked real professionalism. Winston Bogarde, however, was a different breed. He had graduated from the prestigious University of Turin with a degree in sports science, had years of experience as a fitness coach, and carried the credibility of Ajax and Yang Yang himself—two golden brands in European football.
As Yang Yang had joked to him before: As long as I put my name on it, it'll take off.
"I'm in," Bogarde said without hesitation. "But I don't have much money, so I'll take a smaller share."
"I'm in too," Wei Zhen added. "Not a huge investment on my end either, but I like the idea."
Yang Yang nodded. Wei Zhen's financial contribution wasn't a concern—what mattered was his network and resourcefulness. Yang Yang had already planned to give him a share anyway.
"And don't forget my cousin's husband," Yang Yang said with a grin. "Wei Zheng's in too. That makes four of us."
He had already phoned Wei Zheng, who knew the gym well. After hearing the plan, he expressed strong interest.
But Yang Yang wasn't expecting him to invest money either. He planned to give him equity outright—and he had a good reason.
"Consider it an early wedding gift for my cousin," Yang Yang said.
The truth was, over the past two or three years, both Wei Zhen and Wei Zheng had done a great deal to help him, especially with everything related to his image and logistics in China.
Yang Yang had long been looking for a meaningful way to thank them.
As the saying goes in Quanzhou: Brothers are close, but accounts must be clear.
Feelings are one thing—but clearly defined roles and benefits are what keep partnerships healthy and long-lasting.