The soft rustle of chiffon danced in the evening breeze as Lu Jingyan stood in front of the camera, dressed in a sleek navy gown with a silver cape fluttering behind her. The outdoor set buzzed quietly with lights, soft music, and camera clicks capturing her from every angle.
Then came the sudden disruption.
Screeching tires. Gasps. All heads turned as a sleek black car parked near the set. The door opened — and Leng Xuanmo stepped out.
The production crew stilled. Staff exchanged glances. Mei Xiaotong's eyes widened.
"Oh no…" she muttered.
He didn't hesitate. He walked across the set, confident but weighed down with emotions, his gaze locked on only one person.
Lu Jingyan.
She stood frozen, her posture regal, but her fingers slightly curled by her side.
"Lu Jingyan!" he called, his voice clear.
Whispers spread through the crowd. Phones discreetly raised.
"I know I shouldn't have come like this," he began, his breath slightly ragged from the rush. "But I can't keep doing this from a distance."
Her jaw tightened. She didn't move.
"I hurt you. I left you alone in a storm I helped create," he continued. "I watched you rebuild without offering help because I thought that was the respectful thing to do. But all I was doing was hiding."
The lights flickered off. Everyone stopped working now. This was no longer just a shoot.
"I love you, Lu Jingyan," he said simply. "And I want a chance. Not to fix things overnight, but to start again—from scratch. I'm not here to justify myself. I'm here to prove that I can be better, for you."
Lu Jingyan finally looked at him. Her voice, calm and cool, slipped through the silence.
"You want a chance?"
He nodded.
"Do you know how long it took me to stop wishing for this moment?"
"I don't," he said. "But I'd like to spend every day earning the right to know."
Her gaze flickered, softening just slightly. She stepped toward him, stopping close enough that their breaths mingled.
"I'm not going to fall into your arms, Xuanmo. Not this time," she whispered. "But…"
The silence stretched.
"…I'll give you a probation," she said, lips curving faintly. "Three months. No grand gestures. No pressure. Just… show up. As yourself. Not the Leng heir. Not the man trying to fix things. Just Xuanmo."
His shoulders relaxed, hope flooding his face.
"Does that mean you're open to—"
"It means," she interrupted, "that you have three months to convince me you're worth a second beginning."
And just like that, she turned back to the crew and called, "Let's continue."
Cameras clicked again, but this time, they weren't just capturing a campaign.
They were capturing a confession. A compromise. A beginning.
—
*Online Uproar Begins*
Within minutes, clips from the scene began flooding Weibo, TikTok, and gossip forums.
*#LuJingyanProbationPeriod*
*#LengXuanmoDownBad*
*#CDramaInRealLife*
# "I'm crying. She really said 'probation' like she's HR and he's applying for love!"#
#"This is the best enemies-to-lovers-to-probation arc I've ever seen."#
#"Forget Netflix. Just hand me a livestream of their lives."#
#"Lu Jingyan is so powerful. She didn't say yes. She said *earn it*."#
# "Can someone make merch that says '3-Month Trial Period: No Refunds'???"#
A fan account posted an edit of Leng Xuanmo's stunned expression with dramatic C-drama music and slow zooms. It hit a million views in two hours.
Even the most skeptical netizens were softening.
#"He's trying. At least he's trying."
> "I like that she didn't forgive him outright. This feels real."#
#"Honestly, she's setting a good example for women everywhere. Let them prove it.#
And amidst all the chaos, *Mo Tianyi* reposted the video with the caption:
#"He got a probation? Impressive. I expected a restraining order."#
—
Meanwhile, back on set, as the lights dimmed again, Mei Xiaotong slipped beside Lu Jingyan, smirking.
"A three-month probation, huh?" she teased. "You do realize he's going to show up every single day like an unpaid intern."
Lu Jingyan gave a soft laugh, her eyes still gazing into the distance where Leng Xuanmo had been moments ago.
"Let him," she said. "Let's see how long he lasts."
But deep down, beneath the layers of composure, hope stirred gently — unspoken, but no longer unwelcome.