The film and television adaptation rights of the novel were secured by Yeh's company.
During the days when she had no contact with Lin, she poured all her time and energy into work, as if she were trying to overwrite certain unwelcomed emotions with certain things, or perhaps prove to herself that she could still keep everything firmly under rational control.
She approached the project from both market logic and content perspectives, breaking down her evaluation into twenty distinct criteria—character dynamics, emotional tension, commercial viability, audience resonance. Every aspect was analyzed with surgical precision. From a pool of over hundred novels, only a handful made the final cut.
Among them, there was one that captivated her from the very first page. It told the story of two professional women, both rational, cautious, and accustomed to keeping their emotions tightly leashed. They understood the boundaries of reality, and they knew well the invisible line between them that should not be easily crossed. Yet, through countless moments of testing, retreating, and holding back, they slowly drew closer. It wasn't a grand, dramatic choice, but rather the decision to stay, even after a thousand thoughts of "maybe it's better not getting close." They could feel the fatal attraction pulling at them, undeniable and constant. The title of the novel itself, Unspoken Love, hinted at everything.
Halfway through reading, Yeh realized that she was projecting herself onto the story. It wasn't just vague empathy, it was specific, visceral recognition—the pauses in conversation, the hesitation before moving closer, the words that sat on the tongue but were never spoken. These details overlapped perfectly with her own experience, inadvertently placing her and Lin onto the very same narrative path.
She closed the book quickly. The movement was gentle, yet carried a decisive force. She pulled herself out of the emotion, stepping back firmly into the role of the Producer, forcing herself to view the story with detached objectivity: was the structure sound? Did the characters evolve convincingly? Would it resonate with the audience?
She told herself that even if reality offered no future for a relationship, making these unmade choices and untraveled roads into tv series could be a good way out. Not just for herself, but for everyone who were not able to have a future with who they love.
Yet as an investor and producer, she needed certainty, not resonance. The story was clean, restrained, emotional but never melodramatic. The characters were mature, dignified, and no self-pity. It had the potential to be seen, and the quality to be accepted by audience.
In the end, she kept it on the list. It was a decision made through rigorous selection, yet also a silent acknowledgment of the vague feelings stirring within her.
As the project initiator, she knew that the early stages would inevitably be lonely. The direction had to be set by her, the risks borne by her. Every unformed idea existed only within the framework of her own judgment.
There was indeed a fleeting moment when she wanted to contact Lin in the name of work. The thought was brief but clear—sending just one message would bring her back into Yeh's orbit, seamlessly and logically.
But rationality intervened instantly. With any other partner, she would not reach out this early. They hadn't even entered the creative phase yet; bringing someone in too soon would only disrupt the rhythm. More importantly, she knew that once Lin was involved, she might subconsciously compromise on critical decisions for the sake of Lin's feelings.
She understood that risk all too well. It wasn't a matter of professionalism; it was the danger of judgment with emotions, and that was something she could not allow.
So the thought was suppressed, clean and sharp, leaving no trace behind.
She continued to push the project forward as if nothing had happened. Only occasionally, late at night, she would recall a line from that novel:
Some people don't lack choices, they choose restraint, even after seeing exactly where it will lead.
She knew then that what she was doing with Lin right now was exactly the same thing.