Chapter 2: The Hidden Merchant

Returning to the living room, Su Shengxin and Shang Yin began exchanging their personal information to avoid appearing unfamiliar with each other during the show.

Su Shengxin handed Shang Yin a USB drive. "All the basic information is on here."

Shang Yin’s eyes flickered briefly as he picked up a folder from the edge of the table and passed it to Su Shengxin, the front facing him. "Let’s go through this together."

"Thanks for the trouble," Su Shengxin said, opening the folder and scanning through it as he spoke. "I’ll memorize everything about Mr. Shang’s background and preferences."

Shang Yin nodded slightly, gripping the USB drive as he rose deliberately. "Likewise. I’ll print out everything about Teacher Su’s background and preferences and memorize it too."

Su Shengxin lifted his eyes slightly, and their gazes met again.

Holding the USB drive, Shang Yin strolled into the study on the second floor, selected the file, and pressed “print.” He casually leaned against the machine, one arm resting on it, the other on his waist, eyes lowered as he waited.

After a few seconds, the machine whirred, and warm A4 sheets gently emerged and landed atop the tray.

The title at the center of the paper read: “Personal Information of Su Shengxin.”

Shang Yin picked up the top sheet and quickly skimmed:

Favorite color: Red.
Favorite sport: Tennis.
Favorite movie: “Bicycle Thieves.”
Favorite book: “Snow Country.”
Favorite author: Samuel Beckett.
...
Favorite animal: Cat.
Favorite breed: Golden Shaded.

“Quite efficient,” Shang Yin chuckled softly to himself. “Many couples don’t even truly know these about each other after a lifetime.”

Back in the living room, Shang Yin noticed Su Shengxin furrowing his brows, still engrossed in the document.

Seeing the fake husband return, Su Shengxin’s tone turned displeased. “Mr. Shang, your file only covers your rough background. The preferences section feels rather perfunctory.”

He looked Shang Yin squarely in the eyes, without a hint of fear, and added, “If that’s the case, I can’t guarantee the show’s effect, or even our cooperation.”

Shang Yin smiled lightly and pulled out a chair. “Honestly, I don’t have clear likes or dislikes for anything or anyone.”

Su Shengxin scrutinized him.

“I’m not like Teacher Su,” Shang Yin said. “Who can say their favorite color, sport, or book? I don’t care.”

Su Shengxin was initially taken aback but quickly realized this indeed fit Shang Yin’s character.

“If I had to say,” Shang Yin’s lips curved slightly, “I like winning, conquering, and having the other submit. Nothing else.”

“Alright then,” Su Shengxin conceded. “So Mr. Shang is a workaholic. Marriage is just a calculated pawn for acquiring the entire corporation.”

Shang Yin raised his eyebrows indifferently.

To him, having a second marriage with Su Shengxin was inconsequential—it would not shake him in the slightest.

“Loyalty in love is the most worthless thing,” he thought. He would likely have a real marriage in the future, probably an arranged alliance with some heiress. But both parties were smart; he certainly wouldn’t care about her past, nor would she about his.

“Let’s leave that part for now,” Su Shengxin said, tapping Shang Yin’s folder on the table, neatly closing it and clipping it with a steel clip before setting it aside. He interlaced his fingers on the table and looked up at Shang Yin. “Next, should we fabricate our love story?”

Leaning back in his chair, Shang Yin gestured with an open palm, inviting.

“How did we meet?” Su Shengxin asked. “Do you have an idea?”

“To be honest,” Shang Yin replied, “we met at a charity gala. Each attendee donated an item for auction, and I ended up bidding on a piece of jewelry belonging to Teacher Su. There was some ceremony involved, and after the event, Teacher Su courteously thanked me.”

“Correct.” Su Shengxin’s tone was like that of an auctioneer describing a lot, emotionless and precise. “That was the first time I shot a film, wearing a glazed glass crown to tie up my hair.”

The film was a costume drama that became wildly popular across three regions, winning several awards including Best Director. It was also the first time Su Shengxin was nominated for Best Actor. When auctioning the crown, he had been reluctant to part with it.

“Well then,” Su Shengxin pulled his thoughts back and asked, “what was I wearing that night? We should review the details of that evening.”

Shang Yin glanced at him. “A beautiful red shirt.”

“I remember…” Su Shengxin recalled, “You wore a black suit, white shirt, a dark gray tie, and gold-rimmed glasses.” He paused and added politely, “Very striking.”

Shang Yin’s eyes flashed with that faint, enigmatic smile again. Su Shengxin’s clasped hands tightened unconsciously. Gathering himself, he asked, “And what about the glazed glass crown? Other guests might ask.”

“Who knows?” Shang Yin propped his chin on his hand and chuckled lightly. “I don’t remember such things.”

Su Shengxin’s gaze dimmed noticeably but soon returned to normal, his voice steady and emotionless. “Then find it. We have one more night. Put it somewhere prominent. Isn’t there a marble island in the center of the dressing room? Ask the butler to buy a tray and place the crown there.”

“All right,” Shang Yin raised an eyebrow. “I’ll try.”

Taking a sip of water, Shang Yin suddenly recalled something else. “By the way, what’s the movie about? I guess I shouldn’t be completely ignorant.”

Su Shengxin was silent for a moment, then pulled out his phone and found a ten-minute video summary on a streaming site, handing it over to Shang Yin. “Watch this. It sums up the film in ten minutes.”

Shang Yin showed a trace of impatience, setting the phone horizontally on the table. One hand held the device, while a few fingers on the other tapped the table idly. “Ten minutes just to introduce? That’s something.”

Su Shengxin looked stunning in his costume, captivating everyone the moment he appeared. Shang Yin’s eyes casually scanned the screen before lingering briefly, gazing intently.

Su Shengxin played a fallen monarch whose glazed glass crown was famed as the most beautiful, a priceless heirloom bestowed by his queen mother at his coronation. When their kingdom fell, the enemy ruler stormed into the bedchamber, while Su Shengxin sat on the floor. The adversary looked down, grabbed his hairpin, tore off his hairband, letting his flowing black hair fall across his face. Holding the crown, the enemy said, “This crown belongs to me now; and so do you.”

The video played aloud, audible even to Su Shengxin.

At that line, Shang Yin’s eyelids lifted slightly. Su Shengxin sensed it too, and they shared a quiet glance.

Then Shang Yin’s gaze returned to the screen, and Su Shengxin leaned back in his chair, feeling a brief flutter of unease.

Despite the ten-minute length, Shang Yin was not particularly impatient.

When it ended, he returned the phone politely. “A very good story.”

“Thank you.” Su Shengxin took back the phone. “Before we move to the ‘dating’ part, I just remembered something else.”

“What?”

“The forms of address for each other,” Su Shengxin asked. “During the show, what should we call each other?”

Shang Yin’s eyes cooled slightly. “Just call me ‘Shang Yin.’ I’m not comfortable with intimate nicknames.”

“Fine. You call me ‘Shengxin.’” Su Shengxin was unfazed by Shang Yin’s warning tone. “But in certain intimate moments—after kissing, when speaking sweetly—the name ‘Shang Yin’ feels too cold. We need another.”

Shang Yin’s hand touched his lower lip as he looked at Su Shengxin.

Su Shengxin met his gaze.

After a moment, Shang Yin said, “Start with you. What should I call you then?”

Su Shengxin pondered. “Maybe ‘Susu’? It’s common in films.”

Shang Yin scoffed. “Disgusting.”

Su Shengxin was speechless.

Composing himself, he asked, “Then what do you suggest?”

Shang Yin’s finger remained on his lip as his gaze roamed Su Shengxin’s face before breaking into a smile. “Just call you ‘Teacher Su.’”

“Teacher Su…” Su Shengxin considered seriously and agreed. “That’s interesting—calling you ‘Teacher Su’ a few times after intimacy feels oddly flirtatious. Then, after those moments, I’ll call you ‘Mr. Shang’?”

“Sounds good,” Shang Yin replied.

With the matter of address settled, Su Shengxin pressed on. “Mr. Shang—”

He hesitated, instinctively recalling the agreement to call him ‘Mr. Shang’ after kissing. Their eyes briefly entwined before Su Shengxin continued. “Shall we move on to fabricating our first date?”

Shang Yin asked without enthusiasm, “Candlelight dinner?”

“Could you be any less invested?” Su Shengxin frowned and offered his answer. “Let’s go to the ‘Rain Room.’”

“Rain Room?”

“Yeah,” Su Shengxin sent a link to Shang Yin’s phone, “It’s an artist’s experimental installation. The room simulates a torrential downpour, but the ceiling has sensors that stop the rain wherever a person walks. The visitors are always dry, with a circle of rain following them. It tours major cities worldwide and has been here before.”

Shang Yin scrolled through the phone, observing.

The Rain Room featured realistic projections of forests, midnight cities, and natural sound effects, allowing people to experience “rain” up close without umbrellas or getting soaked, even holding hands and strolling leisurely.

Su Shengxin elaborated, his tone like a report. “At the last chamber, surrounded by pouring rain and enveloped by the sound of rushing water, we stood in that small dry circle and kissed. It felt as if we were isolated from the world, sheltering each other from the storm outside with delicate warmth.”

“Not bad,” Shang Yin praised, though a hint of mockery lingered in his tone. “A romantic story indeed. Teacher Su truly is the dream lover of countless girls.”

“That’s not why,” Su Shengxin confessed openly. “I’ve imagined my first date with a lover too. It probably won’t be used anymore—the installation will be dismantled by year’s end, and I’m still under contract. So, let’s keep this part here; it doesn’t hurt.”

Hearing this, Shang Yin was momentarily stunned but said nothing.

“The second date could be your candlelight dinner,” Su Shengxin continued, “Then, who confessed first?”

There was a two to three second silence before both said simultaneously, “Me.”

They were both somewhat surprised, especially Su Shengxin.