The week leading up to Saturday was torture.
Vincent threw himself into filming, trying not to think about the dinner. It didn't work.
Monday: Messed up a simple scene three times because he kept thinking about what to wear.
Tuesday: Asked the costume designer for fashion advice "for a friend." She saw right through him and gave him a two-hour lecture on "dressing to impress without looking desperate."
Wednesday: Searched "what to talk about on a first date" at 2 AM. Realized he was reading dating advice and had an existential crisis.
Thursday: Ren Jingchen visited the set. They had lunch together. Vincent forgot how to use chopsticks properly and dropped rice everywhere. Ren Jingchen thought it was adorable.
[Ding! Ren Jingchen's favorability: +50 → +52!]
Friday: Filming wrapped early. Vincent went home and stared at his closet like it had personally offended him.
"What do I wear?!" he demanded.
"Something nice but not too formal," Bai Yun suggested. "You want to look like you put in effort but aren't trying too hard."
Vincent tried on seventeen outfits. Rejected them all. Called Manager Chen in a panic.
"What do I wear to Ren Jingchen's house for dinner?!"
Manager Chen sighed. "You're really doing this, aren't you? Actually falling for him?"
"I—" Vincent stopped. Was he?
The mission was to make Ren Jingchen fall for him. Raise favorability to 100. Complete the world and move on.
But somewhere between the throne room scene and holding hands at the gala and phone calls that made his heart race—
"Yeah," Vincent admitted quietly. "I think I am."
"Then wear the midnight blue silk shirt and black slacks. The ones from the Versace shoot"
"What if it's too much?"
"Yu Li. You spent two million yuan on this dinner. Nothing is too much."
_____
Saturday arrived.
Vincent showered, shaved everything, used the expensive skincare products, dried his hair until it fell in perfect waves, and dressed in the midnight blue ensemble.
He looked good.
"Ready, Host?" Bai Yun asked.
"Perfect! Let's go!"
Ren Jingchen's house was in an exclusive gated community—modern architecture, lots of glass and clean lines, surrounded by gardens.
Security let Vincent through after confirming his identity. The driveway curved through manicured lawns to a stunning two-story house that was somehow both massive and tasteful.
Vincent parked (hands shaking slightly) and walked to the front door.
Before he could knock, it opened.
Ren Jingchen stood there—no wheelchair, leaning on a cane, wearing a casual gray sweater and dark jeans.
Vincent forgot how to breathe.
"You're early," Ren Jingchen said with a slight smile.
"Traffic was better than expected."
"Come in."
The interior was beautiful—minimalist design, warm wood tones, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking garden.A grand piano in the corner. Bookshelves everywhere.
"It's beautiful," Vincent said honestly. "I expected something more... ostentatious?"
"Most people do. I prefer understated."
"It suits you."
Ren Jingchen's eyes crinkled. "The kitchen is this way. Chef Liu arrived an hour ago."
He led Vincent through the house, moving carefully with the cane. Vincent noticed the subtle adaptations—grab bars that looked like design elements, ramps disguised as architectural features, furniture positioned for easy wheelchair navigation.
"You usually use the wheelchair," Vincent observed.
"For work events, yes. At home, I use the cane when my legs cooperate." Ren Jingchen glanced back. "Does it bother you?"
"Why would it bother me?"
"Some people find it... uncomfortable. The visible disability."
"Then they're idiots," Vincent said bluntly.
Ren Jingchen stopped, turned fully to face him. "You really don't care, do you?"
"About the wheelchair? The cane? No. I care about—" Vincent caught himself before saying something too revealing. "—I care about having good conversation and good food."
he smiled and continued walking.
The kitchen was a chef's dream—marble counters, professional appliances, an island in the center where Chef Liu was artfully arranging plates.
"Film Emperor Ren, Miss Yu!" Chef Liu greeted them warmly. "Everything is ready. Shall I serve in the dining room?"
"The terrace, I think," Ren Jingchen decided. "The weather is perfect."
The terrace overlooked the gardens, which were lit with subtle lighting as the sun set. A table for two was set with white linens, candles, and fresh flowers.
It was devastatingly romantic.
"This is..." Vincent struggled for words.
"Too much?" Ren Jingchen asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
"Perfect," Vincent said. "It's perfect."
They sat. Chef Liu brought the first course—a delicate amuse-bouche that tasted like art.
"So," Ren Jingchen began as they ate, "tell me something true."
Vincent looked up. "True?"
"Something real. Not the scripted interview answers or public image. Something true about Yu Li that no one else knows."
Vincent's mind raced. He couldn't tell the truth—that he wasn't actually Yu Li, that he was a transmigrator from another world on a mission to make Ren Jingchen fall in love.
"I'm terrified," Vincent admitted quietly.
"Of what?"
"Of disappointing people. Of proving everyone right—that I was just a spoiled brat who got lucky with one good performance. Of..." He paused. "Of being alone."
Ren Jingchen's expression softened. "You're not alone."
"How do you know?"
"Because I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere."
[Ding! Ren Jingchen's favorability: +52 → +55!]
The second course arrived—perfectly seared fish with a delicate sauce.
"Your turn," Vincent said. "Tell me something true."
Ren Jingchen considered, swirling wine in his glass. "I'm scared of being pitied more than I'm scared of being hurt."
"People pity you?"
"Constantly. The tragic accident. The wheelchair. 'Such a shame, he was so promising.' As if my career ended with my ability to walk." His jaw tightened. "I've won three awards since the accident. Starred in five films. But people still see the wheelchair first."
"I don't," Vincent said firmly.
"I know." Ren Jingchen met his eyes. "That's why I invited you here. You see me. Not Film Emperor Ren. Not the wheelchair. Just... me."
Vincent's chest ached. "I see you," he repeated softly.
They ate in comfortable silence for a moment.
"Can I ask about the accident?" Vincent ventured.
Ren Jingchen's expression shuttered briefly, then relaxed. "Three years ago. I was filming an action scene. The safety cables failed. I fell four stories." He said it matter-of-factly, like reciting a grocery list. "Shattered three vertebrae, damaged nerves. Doctors said I'd never walk again."
"But you can walk now."
"With the cane, for short periods. It took two years of physical therapy. I still have chronic pain. Some days are better than others." He smiled slightly. "Today is a good day."
"I'm glad," Vincent said.
"Are you?"
"Yes. I—" Vincent stopped, words catching. "I like seeing you comfortable. Happy."
Ren Jingchen's gaze intensified. "Yu Li, are we on a date?"
Vincent's brain short-circuited. "I... this is a charity dinner?"
"That you spent two million yuan on."
"For a good cause!"
"That you could have let Mrs. Wang win."
"She would have eaten you alive."
"So you rescued me."
Ren Jingchen leaned forward slightly. "Yu Li, I'm going to ask you a question. And I want an honest answer."
Vincent said"okay "
"Do you want this to be a date?"
"Yes," Vincent whispered. "I want this to be a date."
Ren Jingchen's smile was brilliant. "Good. Because I've been trying to ask you out for two weeks and couldn't figure out how."
"You—what?"
"The auction donation? I hoped you'd bid. The seating arrangement at the gala? I requested it. The lunch visits to set? Not just professional courtesy."
Vincent stared. "You've been... courting me?"
"Attempting to, yes. Though you're remarkably dense about it."
"I thought you were just being nice!"
"I'm never 'just nice' to anyone," Ren Jingchen said with amusement. "Ask anyone who knows me. I'm professional, polite, and private. I don't share lunches. I don't donate personal experiences. I definitely don't invite people to my home."
"Oh my god," Vincent said faintly.
"You really didn't know?"
"I thought you were monitoring me! Making sure I wasn't going to revert to stalker mode!"
Ren Jingchen laughed.
"You thought—oh, Yu Li. No. I was trying to spend time with you because I like you."
[Ding! Ren Jingchen's favorability: +55 → +60!]
"You like me," Vincent repeated, still processing.
"Is that so hard to believe?"
"Yes! Three months ago you hated me!"
"Three months ago you were a different person," Ren Jingchen said seriously. "Whatever changed you—I don't know what it was, and I'm not sure I want to. But the person you are now? The one who works hard, who showed mercy to Zhao Meilin, who spent two million yuan to save me from an awkward dinner?" He reached across the table, taking Vincent's hand. "That person, I like very much."
Vincent looked at their joined hands, feeling something crack open in his chest.
"I like you too," he admitted. "So much it terrifies me."
"Good," Ren Jingchen said softly.
Chef Liu appeared with the next course, saw their joined hands, and discreetly disappeared again.
"We should eat," Ren Jingchen said, not letting go.
"Probably."
They ate one-handed, neither willing to break the contact.