It all started with a city interview-themed teaser that set the stage. The preview featured street interviews from ten different cities, where everyday people shared memories of their first confession of love. From lively young people to busy middle-aged workers and leisurely elderly folks out for a stroll, everyone seemed to have a story buried deep in their hearts about that unforgettable ‘confession.’ On camera, they recalled their first time — sometimes awkward and funny, sometimes sweet and innocent, and sometimes filled with regret and sadness. These fragmented yet tender moments were pieced together like scenes from an old film reel, ultimately leading to the movie’s title: ‘Confession’.
As soon as the teaser dropped, it exploded across social media. It was rare for a movie’s first teaser to feature no actual footage from the film itself. Rather than a typical trailer, it felt more like a short documentary — one that stirred up memories in everyone’s hearts. Not only did big influencers share it without hesitation, but it quickly spread among everyday users as well. Some viewers were moved, others were curious about what kind of movie this could be, and a few simply dismissed it. Many people couldn’t help but reflect on their own experiences when sharing it, while some joked that their own confession stories were far more exciting than those in the teaser.
As the trailer continued to gain traction, a trending topic titled ‘Confession’ emerged on social media, inviting people to share their own confession stories. A few celebrities led the way by revealing their own experiences of being confessed to, which sparked excitement among their fans. Soon, everyday users joined in too, forming waves of people sharing their stories. Before long, people began filming their own confession videos and uploading them to video apps. What started as reminiscing about past experiences soon turned into real-time declarations of love, triggering a sudden wave of confessions across social media.
Just as the buzz was reaching its peak, the official movie trailer dropped. The film turned out to be a lighthearted urban romance comedy about a love that endured for ten years. Its tagline read: ‘On November 11th, I’ll confess to you.’
Even before its release, the movie had sparked widespread anticipation. The choice to release it on Singles’ Day seemed fitting — couples would naturally be drawn to a romance movie, while singles could still head to the cinema without feeling out of place. To add to the fun, the film’s marketing team launched an event on a video-sharing app: anyone who successfully confessed their feelings on November 11th had a chance to win two free movie tickets. The campaign invited people to celebrate love, no matter their relationship status.
When the film finally premiered on November 11th, it was an instant box office hit. News articles poured in, review sites were flooded with comments, and video creators rushed to post content about the film. The buzz kept building, and the ticket sales soared.
Of course, some critics dismissed the marketing as flashy and attention-seeking. But once people saw the movie, the focus shifted to its actual content.
This urban romantic comedy told a simple yet heartwarming story about someone who refused to give up on love, steadily pursuing it step by step. While the plot wasn’t complicated, the film’s charm lay in its humor and warmth. It had moments that made people chuckle, moments that made their hearts ache — yet there was always a thread of hope running through it all.
During the film’s run, the conversation on social media quietly shifted. The new topic was: ‘Who did you think of while watching this movie?’ The film stirred feelings of nostalgia and struck a chord with viewers, drawing even more people to the theater out of curiosity about that shared sense of connection.
The box office had already surpassed expectations, and the marketing team behind the campaign could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
From the very beginning, Ji Ling’s focus had been on the numbers — tracking reposts, checking data, confirming influencer involvement, monitoring the release of promotional content, ranking on trending lists, and managing comments.
Romance and warmth? Those weren’t Ji Ling’s concerns. He fixated on data, constantly analyzing trends and adjusting strategies. For him, ‘Confession’ wasn’t about nostalgia or emotional resonance — it was about the thrill of battle.
It had been a long time since Ji Ling had fought on the frontlines like this.
Back when he first entered the workforce, his father had deliberately assigned him to the sales department to toughen him up. Even after he climbed into management, Ji Ling often thought back to the fire he’d felt during those sales days — the thrill of being face-to-face with clients, convincing them as if each deal were a battle.
Now felt exactly the same. As Ji Ling stared at the data points on his screen, he didn’t see numbers — he saw an audience. And every viewer was someone to win over.
By the film’s mid-run, ‘Confession’ had already outperformed major imported blockbusters released at the same time. The industry hailed it as a low-budget miracle.
But Ji Ling didn’t stop there. He pushed forward with a new round of marketing, even submitting designs for movie merchandise that would keep the film’s presence alive after its theater run. He also coordinated a reprint of the film’s original novel, ensuring the ‘Confession’ would have lasting impact.
The box office figures had skyrocketed far beyond expectations, landing the movie on the year’s top-grossing list — an incredible surprise for the production team.
The producers couldn’t stop singing the praises of Ji Ling and his team. Ji Ling knew better, though. The movie’s success wasn’t just about clever marketing — the film itself was genuinely good. No amount of promotion could have made up for poor quality. Quietly, Ji Ling felt a pang of guilt for once doubting the production team’s abilities. That moment of self-reproach lasted all of five seconds.
Even before the film’s run ended, it was clear Ji Ling had made a fortune. His name was now circulating throughout the industry, and people were eager to learn about his background — only to find there wasn’t much to uncover.
He wasn’t some industry insider with powerful connections — Ji Ling had simply made a name for himself through sheer skill and strategy. He was now a rising star in the media industry.
But no matter how popular a movie is, every screening must eventually come to an end. Despite additional showings being scheduled, the market was reaching its limit, and ‘Confession’ was nearing the end of its run.
Ji Ling and his team had been working nonstop for what felt like forever, and now they could finally catch their breath.
But Ji Ling couldn’t calm down — it was as if he’d been injected with adrenaline. His mind raced with ideas. His team was stronger than ever, and he knew it was time to think bigger. With the money he’d earned, he wanted to take on larger projects. He wasn’t content with low-budget films anymore — he wanted to collaborate with major productions. Then, he’d expand the company’s reach. After all, his ultimate goal had always been to break into the media industry in a big way.
He couldn’t stop his thoughts from running wild — which wasn’t like him at all. Ji Ling had always seen himself as a doer, someone grounded in action. Yet now, his mind was drifting far beyond reality.
Maybe it was because of his brother’s expression back in N City — that ambitious, determined look.
That same hunger for success had been awakened in Ji Ling too.
But he knew he was still at the starting line, far from the throne he envisioned for himself. This small victory had barely settled, yet he was already craving something bigger.
The office was empty now. His team had worked long hours and finally called it a night, but Ji Ling remained, buzzing with restless energy as he mapped out his future.
It was late autumn, and the city’s air had grown thick and murky. By nightfall, a blanket of white fog had settled outside. Ji Ling leaned back in his chair, gazing out the window. He remembered when he’d rented this entire floor of the office building, relying on Luo Tao’s money to cover the costs. Back then, it had felt like a stretch — but now, it was no longer a burden.
He liked this location. Being so close to the city’s bustling heart made him feel like he was on the brink of success himself.
But as he stared out the window now, the night felt strange — shrouded in fog, blurred in shades of black and white. It all seemed unreal.
Maybe ‘he’ was the one who wasn’t real. After all, he’d once brushed shoulders with death — and somehow, he’d made it back.
Ji Ling realized he was sinking into his thoughts again. He remembered the last time this had happened — achieving a milestone victory only to feel like there was no one to share it with.
But this time felt different. He wasn’t lost.
He grabbed his phone and dialed the number.
It rang for a long time before the other person finally picked up. The groggy, annoyed voice on the other end growled impatiently:
“Ji Ling, this better be important, or I swear I’ll kill you tomorrow.”
Yan Yixuan’s voice was hoarse and nasal, clearly interrupted from sleep. His temper was foul.
Ji Ling glanced at the time — yeah, it was really late. But he felt zero guilt.
“I want to take you to a movie,” Ji Ling said.
“What?” Yan Yixuan sounded like he hadn’t heard clearly.
Ji Ling repeated himself, “I want to take you to a movie.”
“Are you sleepwalking?” Yan Yixuan asked, sounding more awake now, as if convinced Ji Ling must be dreaming.
Ji Ling chuckled. “Nope. Sorry for waking you, but the movie’s about to go off the big screen. If I don’t invite you now, I’ll miss my chance.”
He heard the rustling of fabric — Yan Yixuan was probably getting out of bed. After a brief pause, he asked, “You mean that movie that’s been making you all that money lately?”
Ji Ling wasn’t surprised that Yan Yixuan knew.
They hadn’t seen each other in a long time. Ever since Ji Ling returned from N City, their only contact had been through occasional phone calls — and even then, Yan Yixuan never asked much about Ji Ling’s work, except to randomly offer him money.
Yet somehow, Yan Yixuan had planted someone in Ji Ling’s circle, quietly keeping tabs on his every move.
This whole ‘I don’t care about you, but I secretly know everything’ routine… Ji Ling couldn’t tell if this was just Yan Yixuan’s strange way of killing time.
Ji Ling didn’t call him out on it, though. Instead, he just said, “Yeah, that one. Honestly, I haven’t even had a proper chance to watch it myself. Are you free tomorrow? Let’s go together.”
Yan Yixuan seemed caught off guard by Ji Ling’s casual tone — as if they were old friends who hung out all the time. But their relationship had never been like that.
Ji Ling waited for his answer. After a pause, Yan Yixuan finally said, “Sure.”
Ji Ling smiled.
He wondered if Yan Yixuan realized that, no matter what the request, he always ended up saying yes.
“Great,” Ji Ling said cheerfully. “Then it’s settled. Tomorrow evening, I’ll pick you up.”
“What?” Yan Yixuan sounded like he’d misheard again.
“I said,” Ji Ling repeated with a grin, “Tomorrow evening, I’ll come pick you up.”
Yan Yixuan didn’t seem to understand. He asked again “I’ll come pick you up? Where will you be waiting for me?”
Ji Ling burst out laughing. “No, you’ll probably be at the headquarters tomorrow, right? I know where that is. Just wait for me there.” He glanced at the time and lowered his voice. “It’s late. Go back to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Before Yan Yixuan could respond, Ji Ling hung up.
The thought of Yan Yixuan’s confused expression made Ji Ling chuckle to himself.
People say the feeling of victory is like being drunk. Ji Ling figured that might be true — why else would he feel so lightheaded?
The next day, Ji Ling showed up at the Yan Group’s headquarters right on time.
The Yan family had dominated the south since the wartime era, starting with shipping and later branching into trade. For a time, they held a near monopoly on the market. When the trade boom eventually slowed down, the current head of the family, Yan Jisheng, had the foresight to shift into real estate. He was one of the first to profit massively from the property business.
The Yan Group’s office tower was one of the landmarks of S City — the tallest building in the district, standing proud and imposing, like it was looking down on the entire city.
Ji Ling knew his own family’s business was nothing to scoff at — the Zhong family had built their fortune from scratch too — but compared to the Yans, they still seemed like upstarts.
You couldn’t miss the Yan building even if you tried. Ji Ling had been in the city long enough to know exactly where it was. Besides, with a target this big, finding his way there was almost too easy.
The weather was getting colder. Nights were creeping in earlier and earlier. By the time Ji Ling arrived at the Yan building, the sky was already pitch black.
Without a pass, he couldn’t get into the official parking area. So, he called Yan Yixuan.
Yan Yixuan still sounded suspicious, like he couldn’t figure out what Ji Ling was up to. But after a moment’s hesitation, he said, “Just drive into the underground lot and wait by my private elevator.”
Yan Yixuan must’ve given someone a heads-up because Ji Ling drove in without a hitch. An attendant even showed him the way, though the guy looked puzzled when he saw Ji Ling’s car.
Ji Ling parked by the elevator and got out, leaning casually against the car door with his arms crossed. He waited.
A moment later, the private elevator doors slid open, and Yan Yixuan stepped out. His gaze immediately locked onto Ji Ling, who was standing there with a half-smile, his expression cool and relaxed.
It hadn’t been that long since they last saw each other — but somehow, Ji Ling seemed… different.
It was hard to put a finger on. His delicate features were the same, but there was something deeper about his presence now. A quiet intensity beneath the surface.
Yan Yixuan frowned slightly and said, “My driver’s waiting. Let’s go.”
Ji Ling straightened up, opened the back door of his car, and said with a grin, “I told you I’d pick you up. Just go with the flow, Young Master Yan.”
Yan Yixuan’s gaze slowly shifted to the car behind Ji Ling. He didn’t say a word.
Ji Ling gestured invitingly. “Come on, Young Master Yan. It’s getting late.”
Yan Yixuan kept moving at a snail’s pace — slow steps toward the car, slow steps as he slid into the back seat. Ji Ling shut the door for him before getting into the driver’s seat.
“Wait.”
Just as Ji Ling was about to start the car, Yan Yixuan spoke up. “I want to sit in the front.”
Then, still moving at that same deliberate pace, Yan Yixuan got out of the back seat and walked around to the passenger side.
Ji Ling watched him like he was some fussy cat refusing to settle down. He couldn’t help but smile before starting the engine and driving off.
Sitting beside Ji Ling, Yan Yixuan shifted uncomfortably, like the seat itself was made of thorns. With a blank expression, he muttered, “I’ve never ridden in a car worth less than a million before.”
Ji Ling chuckled. “Sorry to disappoint you, Young Master Yan. This one’s probably not even worth twenty grand.”
This old car had been left behind by the previous owner. If Yan Yixuan knew it was secondhand, Ji Ling figured he’d probably jump out on the spot.
“Then why’d you donate your sports car?”
‘Still holding a grudge over that,’ Ji Ling thought. Typical Yan Yixuan — petty to the core.
“Let it go,” Ji Ling said while keeping his eyes on the road. “Turn the page, Young Master Yan. Don’t be so bitter.”
Yan Yixuan snorted in response.
Ji Ling glanced at him and added with a smile, “Let’s grab some food first.”
Yan Yixuan immediately grew wary. “Where are we eating? I’m not going to one of those so-called street food stalls.”
Ji Ling finally laughed out loud. “Who’s been filling your head with that idea?”
Yan Yixuan shot him a glare. “I used to know this student once. She insisted on ‘showing me real life’ and dragged me to some snack street outside her school. I barely touched anything, and I ended up on stomach meds for a week.”
Ji Ling laughed even harder. “Oh come on, no way it was ‘that’ bad.” Then he added teasingly, “Didn’t know Young Master Yan dabbled in dating students.”
Yan Yixuan’s tone cooled. “After that, I never went near a student again.”
As they chatted, Ji Ling had already pulled up at their destination. Yan Yixuan stepped out, glanced around, and chuckled. “You managed to book a table ‘here’?”
Ji Ling grinned. “I knew Young Master Yan had high standards, so I pulled some strings.”
That finally seemed to earn some approval from Yan Yixuan — though, of course, he couldn’t resist getting in another jab. “Your car’s probably the shabbiest one in this whole lot. Careful they don’t tow it away thinking it’s junk.”
Ji Ling just played along. “No worries, it’s insured. If they take it, I’ll just get a new one. Wouldn’t that make you happy?”
Yan Yixuan smirked. “Sure. Insurance money might even cover dinner. Did you bring enough cash, though? Don’t expect me to bail you out if you can’t foot the bill.”
Ji Ling let out an exaggerated sigh. “Seriously, Young Master Yan, just how broke do you think I am?” He glanced ahead, then turned back to Yan Yixuan, his tone softening. “Come on, let’s go. Don’t forget — we’ve got a movie to catch afterward.”
Yan Yixuan met Ji Ling’s gaze, those dark eyes shining like polished obsidian. Without another word, he followed Ji Ling’s steps as they walked into the restaurant.
Hello, everyone ヾ(＾∇＾). I hope you enjoyed the story! If you’re feeling generous, please buy me a coffee, share/comment on my translated works! Check out the link below for early chapters. (๑>ᴗ<๑)
Thanks for the translation!!! THEY HAVE A DATE. 💞💞💞💞💞💞
Aww soo cute!!