Chapter 106: Extra – Love Poem Part 1
“Damn, my OTP became real… (hot)”
[Who still remembers when they were at the bottom of the rankings on Heart’s Signal? No matter how much we hyped them, they just wouldn’t take off.]
[I’m losing it—watching my idol achieve both career and romance success, and the stocks I bought got officially confirmed to skyrocket.]
[Not to be that person, but was there ever really any other ship to bet on for Fang Huai? He was never rumored with anyone else—every time he got caught by paparazzi, it was always with President Ye.]
[aaaawsl (I’m crying and screaming).]
…
[Fang Huai is actually really smart. The timing of this was perfect—winning an Oscar leaves no room for anyone to insinuate that President Ye got him there through shady means.]
[My ship is the sweetest in the world!]
…
[Holy crap, check Orlando’s official Weibo!! Hurry!!]
[I SAW IT. Awei funeral arc!!! Why hasn’t President Ye debuted as a celebrity?! The way he was gently tying little braids for Huaihuai—this is love, people!!!]
[Once again, crying over someone else’s love story today.]
Orlando’s China-based PR team was incredibly smart too.
Here’s how the timeline played out over the past two days—
At 8:50 PM Los Angeles time—which was 1:00 PM in China—three explosive headlines instantly dominated Weibo: #Oscar Best Actor Fang Huai# #Fang Huai & Ye Yuyuan Announce Relationship# #Nationwide Legalization of Same-Sex Marriage#
Weibo crashed for nearly half an hour.
That afternoon, countless people were either eating lunch or half-asleep from their midday nap. They opened Weibo, took one look, and instinctively blurted out—
“Holy sh*t.”
After Weibo was restored at 2 PM, netizens embarked on a long journey of catching up on gossip. Discussions about these three bombshell events dominated nearly every corner of the internet. Some people even started digging deep into Fang Huai and Ye Yuyuan’s relationship history, tracing it all the way back to when Fang Huai was still a construction worker.
By noon the next day, every single piece of gossip that could be devoured had already been consumed.
That’s when Orlando finally released a long-held set of promotional photos—two different shoots featuring Fang Huai and Ye Yuyuan. In one, Fang Huai was dressed in traditional Song-style Hanfu with his hair braided, while Ye Yuyuan wore a suit. In the other, their outfits were reversed.
Riding the wave of trending topics, combined with the sheer visual impact of the photos themselves, the campaign successfully captured another surge of attention.
However, the main figures of all this attention—Fang Huai and Ye Yuyuan—had remained completely out of the public eye since the Oscars ended.
Fang Huai, of course, wasn’t making any public appearances—he was incredibly busy.
After the Oscar ceremony ended, he turned down Director Xu and Joan’s invitation to go out drinking in celebration. Instead, he walked alone through the guest passageway—he needed some fresh air, some time to collect himself. But as soon as he stepped outside, he was immediately swarmed by media—both foreign and domestic—leaving him with nowhere to escape.
“Mr. Fang, about your award—”
“Mr. Fang, can you comment on your relationship with Mr. Ye Yuyuan—”
“Mr. Fang—”
Fang Huai: “……”
He felt like he was being boiled alive in a pot of hot water. Not that he was particularly unhappy—if anything, he was still floating in the bliss of having his proposal accepted, as if walking on clouds, dizzy with joy.
But right now, all he wanted was to have a private conversation with his fiancé, whisper sweet nothings, and not be trapped by reporters.
Then, in the midst of all the chaos, someone took his hand—fingers interlocking with his.
In the very next second, all movement came to an abrupt halt. The reporters who had been shoving microphones toward him, pressing their camera shutters, and bombarding him with questions—all froze in place. Even the automatic doors that were halfway open stopped moving, a female celebrity’s dress suspended mid-air by the wind, everything frozen in time.
Fang Huai tightened his grip in return.
Neither of them spoke. Their hands were clasped tightly together, yet their gazes avoided each other, like two nervous middle schoolers in their first relationship.
Fang Huai’s ears were burning red. He hadn’t been this nervous even when facing an audience of millions, but now, his words came out awkward and stammered:
“Did you fly here?”
Ye Yuyuan, equally flustered, was momentarily lost in thought. After a brief pause, he shook his head. “No.”
Obviously not. Just a few minutes ago, he had still been in the capital—no rocket could have gotten him here this fast.
As they walked past Director Xu and Joan, Director Xu, who had been on the phone with his wife, remained in the same posture, his expression still frozen in a sweet, contented smile.
Finally, they reached the end of the long corridor. The late summer breeze of Los Angeles brushed against them, and above them, the stars shimmered in the night sky.
“Mr. Ye,” Fang Huai finally broke the silence, unable to hold back any longer. “Your fiancé wants to kiss you.”
Ye Yuyuan: “……”
His lips pressed together briefly, as if suppressing a smile, but in the end, he couldn’t resist. The corners of his mouth curled up.
That night, under the warm September sky of Los Angeles, they kissed.
And just before getting into the car, they kissed again.
Ye Yuyuan lightly tapped his index finger—and with that, the magic that had paused the entire world was lifted. Time resumed its normal flow.
No one realized what had just happened.
Director Xu was still on the phone with his wife.
The group of reporters exchanged confused glances, all looking utterly bewildered.
A firework exploded in the sky.
Fang Huai was completely immersed in a dreamlike happiness—so much so that he felt like laughing at everything he did. It was a long time before he finally asked Ye Yuyuan:
“Where is our car going?”
He got his answer soon enough.
Ye Yuyuan had originally planned to surprise him, but in an unexpected twist, Fang Huai ended up surprising him first.
In the early hours of the morning, they boarded a private plane and flew out over the vast Pacific Ocean.
Fang Huai fell asleep on the plane.
When he woke up, the sunset over an island greeted him. Having lived inland his whole life, he rarely had the chance to see the ocean—this was almost exactly the life he had imagined.
Ye Yuyuan was preparing dinner when Fang Huai got out of bed, slipping into his slippers and shuffling over to the open kitchen to watch him.
“Baby, do you love me?” Fang Huai asked.
“……”
Ye Yuyuan flipped the fried egg in the pan with a spatula, his ears turning red. He pressed his lips together slightly and replied, “What do you think?”
“I love you.” Fang Huai said seriously, then added, “Would you do anything for me?”
“Yes,” Ye Yuyuan answered.
“Then I want to play video games, eat potato chips,” Fang Huai said, “and have three ice creams a day.”
Ye Yuyuan said, “That’s not happening.”
Fang Huai: “……”
The golden-red sunset slowly dipped below the horizon, sinking into the sea. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the beach stretched out before them, breathtakingly beautiful—like something out of an epic tale.
“Alright,” Fang Huai compromised. “Then let me see your horns and tail.”
Ye Yuyuan: “…………”
