Yang Liu ends up in a novel as the stepmother of the third male lead. The character is briefly mentioned at the start and end when she marries and divorces the male lead's father. Yang Liu is strong and funny, just wants to enjoy life and spend money. She plans to live freely, embracing her new role. The male lead’s father is thirty-five years old this year—mature, wealthy, and refined—but he has never been in love before. Yang Liu doesn't want to be forced to work anymore. So, if that means having a son and a husband along with it, she’s fine with it. She plans to do whatever she wants.
Yang Liu woke up later than usual that morning, her body feeling heavy from a deep, dreamless sleep. She stretched lazily, her hand sliding across the cool, empty side of the bed. Han Chen wasn't there. But she didn't think much of it—he often left early for work. Still, as the quiet moments passed, she felt a strange emptiness linger in the room. She shook it off, getting ready for the day. Her focus shifted to the art exhibition at Han Wei's school. Today was important to him, and she knew how much it meant to see both his parents there.
After getting dressed, she decided to call Han Chen, hoping he would join them. The phone rang several times, a slight frown forming on her face as the seconds ticked by. Finally, his voice came through, but it wasn't the warm tone she was used to hearing. Instead, it was distant, almost cold.
"Hello, Yang Liu. Is there something I can help you with?" His words felt formal, lacking the usual familiarity.
Yang Liu's frown deepened, a sense of unease creeping in. Something was off, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Trying to keep her tone light, she replied, "I'm on my way to Han Wei's school for the art exhibition. Are you coming too?" She hesitated for a moment, then added, "He'd be thrilled to see you there. You know how much it would mean to him."
There was a long pause on the other end, the silence heavy between them. Finally, Han Chen's voice returned, but it was as cold as before. "I'll see," he said, his words clipped. There was another pause before he added, "I have to go now."
The call ended abruptly, leaving Yang Liu staring at her phone in confusion. The conversation left her feeling unsettled, as if she had missed something important. Shaking her head, she grabbed her bag and left the house, her mind still swirling with thoughts of Han Chen's strange behavior.
As she drove to Han Wei's school, her mind kept replaying the conversation, the nagging feeling of something wrong gnawing at her. She couldn't understand why Han Chen seemed so distant. He wasn't the type to be cold without reason, especially when it came to Han Wei. The thought weighed heavily on her heart as she pulled into the school parking lot.
Meanwhile, across the city, in his sleek, modern office, Han Chen sat at his desk, staring blankly at his phone. His mind was in turmoil, unable to shake the events of the morning. He had woken up before Yang Liu, something he was used to. But what had happened afterward had caught him completely off guard. Not only had he found himself holding her in his arms as they slept, but when he awoke, he realized he hadn't let go. He had stayed there, feeling the warmth of her body against his, an undeniable comfort that sent a shock through him.
He had hurried into the shower, hoping the cold water would wash away the memory. But it didn't. Instead, it only heightened the sensation, the memory of her soft skin lingering in his mind. He had felt his body react—something that hadn't happened in years. Han Chen was a man of control, always composed, never allowing himself to be ruled by desire or emotion. But now, all of that control seemed to be slipping away, and he hated it.
As he stood under the stream of water that morning, Han Chen had come to a realization he had long been avoiding: he was attracted to Yang Liu. It was a truth that unsettled him deeply. He had never allowed himself to feel this way before. Even with his ex-wife, the mother of his child, there had been no deep feelings, no passion. He had married her out of duty, doing what was expected of him as a husband, as a father. He had never let his emotions rule his actions.
But Yang Liu was different. She had slipped past his defenses, and now she was all he could think about. Han Chen clenched his fists, feeling the frustration well up inside him. I'm not an 18-year-old boy, he thought bitterly. I shouldn't be feeling like this.
Desperate to regain control, Han Chen made a decision. He would distance himself from her. If he avoided her, he could suppress these unwanted feelings. After all, he was a man who thrived on control, and he wasn't about to let some fleeting attraction undo all of that. But even as he made this resolution, a part of him knew it wouldn't be that simple. Yang Liu had a way of drawing him in, and if she continued to do so, he wasn't sure how much longer he could resist.
He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. Yet, as he thought about the art exhibition, the image of Han Wei's bright, eager face flashed in his mind. Yang Liu's words replayed in his head. He would be thrilled to see you there. The thought of disappointing his son twisted at something deep inside him.
With a resigned sigh, Han Chen stood up, grabbing his car keys. Today will be the last day we act like a family, he told himself. He would go to the exhibition, for Han Wei's sake. But after today, things would change. He would keep his distance from Yang Liu, no matter what it took.
As he walked out of his office, a part of him already knew it wouldn't be that easy. Once feelings began to take root, they were hard to change. This was no ordinary attraction—it was something deeper, something wild and uncontrollable. This was the kind of love that was impossible to resist, no matter how hard you tried.