“What does it have to do with me?” Liang Yan lifted his eyelids and looked over at Qiao Qi, who was standing beside him, her face slightly flushed—whether from embarrassment or anger, it was hard to tell. His expression was the picture of innocence. “Your fan asked me to look at this.”

Excuse me?

Qiao Qi took a deep breath. “I don’t have fans.”

“Doesn’t matter to me. When the idol’s fans misbehave, the idol pays the price.” Liang Yan said this with total righteousness, not a trace of guilt on his face. Instead, he rocked back and forth on the lounge chair, looking very much like he intended to keep reading on his phone.

The rocking made Qiao Qi’s eyes hurt. She simply stood up from her own chair, planning to snatch the phone while Liang Yan wasn’t paying attention.

But Liang Yan seemed to see through her intentions at a glance. Without any urgency, he set the phone down beneath himself, lazily raised both arms to pillow behind his head, and let his gaze drift over to her—silently daring her: go ahead and try.

Liang Yan had just finished a fairly tender scene before this break, and to match the mood, the stylist had specially dressed him in an outfit that was, for Ming Yan, rare in its properness.

—The pale blue top gave the usually mischievous young master Ming a touch of soft, homely refinement. Lying back, moonlight lay over his handsome face like a thin veil.

It should have been a scene pleasing to the eye, except his expression was far too teasing, especially that half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Fine.

Shameless, this one.

Qiao Qi turned and walked away.

Seeing her about to leave, Liang Yan called out to her in a slow, coaxing tone, as if trying to win her favor. “Hey, Teacher Qiao, don’t be so petty.”

Qiao Qi ignored him completely and kept walking.

“Tsk.” Liang Yan called out again. “Teacher Qiao—”

Liang Yan’s voice wasn’t quiet, and quite a few people on set turned to look their way, sizing them up—glancing at Qiao Qi, then at Liang Yan, then a few seconds later pretending to look away, feigning busyness with their own tasks.

Qiao Qi took in all of their reactions. Her footsteps faltered, and she stopped.

She turned back, said nothing, but her eyes silently widened—a warning.

Liang Yan couldn’t help the corner of his mouth curling up. Seeing Qiao Qi’s eyes widen even further, he reined in his smile out of consideration for her, and said with feigned seriousness, “No more joking. Let me ask you something.”

Qiao Qi had no idea what scheme he was up to this time, and eyed him half-suspiciously.

Seeing the wariness in her eyes, Liang Yan couldn’t hold back a smile. He slowly sat up from the lounge chair, elbows pressed on his knees, one hand cupping his face, looking at Qiao Qi. “Who sent you to get close to me?”

Qiao Qi: “?”

Liang Yan blinked. “It’s from a fan fiction. It hasn’t updated yet, and I’m curious, so I’m asking the person involved.”

Qiao Qi: “…get lost!”

—

Qiao Qi was thoroughly annoyed by Liang Yan. When it was time to film their scene together, it happened to be one where Cheng Yanyun disciplines young master Ming in front of a group of sisters. So Qiao Qi took the opportunity for a bit of private revenge, disciplining him crisply and without mercy.

Everyone on set watched with great satisfaction, and the director kept praising her. “Qiao Qi, you’re amazing!”

Qiao Qi had gone at him ruthlessly just now, and Liang Yan could still feel a lingering numbness in the small of his back. He hissed in a breath and leaned toward the monitor to watch the playback.

Seeing, from a god’s-eye view, the fierceness in Qiao Qi’s eyes, he said deliberately, “Cheng Yanyun is supposed to be flirting with Ming Yan. Are you trying to kill me instead?”

Qiao Qi’s face was ice-cold. “What is there between you and me to flirt over?”

With that, she turned and walked away.

Off to the side, Wu Shuang kept flicking her eyes back and forth between the two of them, and finally couldn’t help herself, asking with bright, sparkling eyes, “Young Master Liang, why do you always tease Teacher Qiao?”

Liang Yan asked back, “Do I?”

“You do, you do, you really do.” Wu Shuang nodded like she was pounding garlic.

Liang Yan glanced at Qiao Qi’s retreating back, thought over his own behavior, and said, “Is it not appropriate?”

“It is.” Wu Shuang said one thing while meaning another, hoping to fish out some gossip. “Think about it—you already have a girlfriend, and you’re still being so close with another girl on set. Won’t your girlfriend get angry?”

Liang Yan froze for a moment, and instantly all his playful expression vanished. He looked at Wu Shuang with some seriousness. “You think this kind of behavior counts as being close?”

“Isn’t it?” Wu Shuang asked back.

Or was it just her own shipper brain talking?

“I see.” Liang Yan thought for a few more seconds, then nodded. “I’ll be careful about that from now on.”

Wu Shuang had an ominous feeling. “Careful about what?”

“Careful about the line between socialist brotherly affection and romantic feelings between men and women.” Liang Yan had meant to pat Wu Shuang’s shoulder in passing, but the instant before his hand landed, he met Wu Shuang’s eyes and instantly remembered this little girl was also female. He immediately withdrew his hand and nodded like an elder. “Thanks for the reminder.”

Wu Shuang: “…”

What the hell.

Who wanted to remind you of anything!

—

The official announcement of Mist and Cloud Pavilion stirred up heated discussion online. Qiao Qi didn’t much care what the netizens had to say—she cared more about what Li’ang thought.

So the moment she wrapped for the day, she pulled out her phone and pestered him.

She deliberately sent over the officially released promotional photo of Qiao Qi.

7: Wow.

7: She looks so good.

Then she sent over Liang Yan’s photo and started picking it apart from head to toe.

7: I feel like Liang Yan is a bit too skinny.

7: A person like this should look pretty weak in real life, right?

Liangou: ?

Liangou: Have you met him?

Of course I’ve met him.

It’s you who hasn’t met him.

Qiao Qi lied without a hint of a blush.

7: No, just guessing.

Liangou: You’re pretty good at guessing then.

Liangou: Care to guess whether Qiao Qi is weak in real life?

Qiao Qi: “…”

She silently set her phone down, raised one arm, and flexed it.

Hm.

Her bicep was actually quite noticeable.

But she still replied without changing expression.

7: Pretty skinny.

7: Looks like the type that brings out people’s protective instincts.

The moment Liang Yan received this message, he unconsciously touched the small of his back. He looked down, lifted his bathrobe, and sure enough saw a faint bruise of purple-blue on his cold, pale skin. He gave a cold laugh.

Liangou: Mm.

Liangou: One punch could knock you down three times over.

Qiao Qi: “…”

7: Isn’t that a good thing?

7: She can protect her boyfriend.

Liangou: Oh.

Liangou: Well, going by the laws of yin and yang balance, her boyfriend’s probably useless then.

Qiao Qi: “…”

7: [baring teeth]

Liangou: ?

7: Nothing, let me screenshot this first.

Liangou: ?

7: Once Qiao Qi’s popular, I’ll post it on Weibo and get her fans to drag you.

Liangou: No need.

Liangou: Aren’t you her fan too?

Liangou: I suggest dragging me in person.

Liangou: I won’t resist. [shy]

7: …true fans support the real deal.

7: I can tell your idol is Liang Yan.

7: But why can’t you learn anything good from him?

Liangou: How is that supporting the real deal?

Liangou: What has Liang Yan done to offend you now?

He hasn’t done much of anything—just strutting around the set all day like a peacock, flirting with the whole cast, male and female…

The instant before she hit send, the other side sent another message.

Liangou: You don’t even actually know him. Why do you have such strong opinions about him?

Only then did Qiao Qi realize she had almost given herself away!

She hurriedly deleted everything in the chat box, then silently sent a string of periods.

In response, the other side said with total confidence:

Liangou: Actually, I have a friend in the industry who says Liang Yan’s not a bad guy.

7: Mm.

7: I watched the behind-the-scenes footage.

7: In the footage, he really does get along well with everyone.

7: Everyone. Especially the girls.

Liangou: …uh.

Liangou: That’s probably because there are a lot of actresses in Mist and Cloud Pavilion, right?

7: Maybe. [smile]

Liang Yan looked at this little yellow smiling face, and his first reaction was to switch to his work WeChat, find Wu Shuang, and send her a sincerely grateful sticker.

Wu Shuang: ?

Liang Yan: My girlfriend really does mind, it turns out.

Liang Yan: Thanks for the reminder—it gave me a chance to pull back from the edge.

Wu Shuang: …you’re welcome.

Wu Shuang: Wishing you two forever together. [smile]

Liang Yan accepted this exceedingly sincere blessing, then switched back to his personal account and, quite naturally, sent a message to Student 7.

Liang: He won’t do it again in the future.

Qiao Qi rolled her eyes.

7: Whether he does or not is none of my business.

7: Why are we discussing him here anyway?

Seeing this message, Liang Yan was caught off guard for a moment, and belatedly realized that he had indeed been talking about “Liang Yan” with her quite a lot lately.

Thinking this over, Liang Yan couldn’t help but ask.

Liang: What if I told you I was him?

After a long while, the other side sent a reply.

7: Then I guess I’m Qiao Qi!

Though he knew Little 7 was speaking out of frustration, Liang Yan still couldn’t help imagining a scene where he really was Liang Yan and she really was Qiao Qi, and promptly lost the ability to speak.

Liang: Thank you.

Liang: I’m quite annoyed now. [smile]

The other side seemed even more annoyed than him.

Liangou’s Sweetheart: Thank you!

Liangou’s Sweetheart: I’m annoyed too!!

Liang Yan: “…”

It was nothing, really.

Just a sudden worry that on the day they finally met in person, he might end up as a headline.

The headline would read—Domestic A-List Actor Liang Yan Brutally Beaten in the Street by a Hater.

As for Qiao Qi, she went straight into a dream that night about meeting Li’ang in person, and the person who appeared was Liang Yan, with a peacock’s tail feathers sticking out of his back!

She woke with a start, drenched in sweat, sitting up in bed dazed for a long while, before deciding that from now on, she would have absolutely no contact with Liang Yan outside of work.

Absolutely not!

—

Qiao Qi only belatedly realized that Liang Yan had stopped teasing her. Though this was indeed what she’d wanted, the change had come on so suddenly that she couldn’t help but feel a bit curious.

But curious as she was, she wasn’t about to walk up to Liang Yan and ask him why he’d suddenly turned over a new leaf—what if something snapped in his head and he went right back to his old tricks?

That day, Qiao Qi and Liang Yan shot a session for the domestic A-list magazine VG. After the shoot, the two were supposed to give separate interviews, one after the other, but somehow it ended up arranged as a joint interview instead.

This wasn’t Qiao Qi’s first magazine shoot, but it was her first time doing an interview right after one.

She was still wearing the outfit the stylist had put together—a modified qipao that made her whole figure look tall and slender. The sea-blue fabric made her skin look luminous, adding even more of a detached quality to her already cool aura.

She stood in her heels, her long, straight, pale legs occasionally visible through the slit in her skirt, standing quietly off to the side.

She wasn’t deliberately trying to draw attention, but she still attracted frequent glances.

Qiao Qi was a newcomer in the industry, and her very first role was under Cheng Yuzhi—which more than qualified as “starting at the top.”

Generally, artists who start at the top either have powerful connections, exceptional talent, or masterful maneuvering.

Either way, it was bound to attract curiosity.

And most of those curious looks were the uncomfortable kind.

Qiao Qi, however, seemed to notice none of it. She stood in a corner of the shooting studio, head lowered, appearing to seriously examine a potted plant roughly her own height nearby. Its huge leaves drooped to the side, brushing faintly against her waist—slightly itchy—so she stepped back, only to have her heel bump into an obstacle.

She turned around—it was Liang Yan, dressed just as elegantly.

As a top-tier A-lister, Liang Yan had his own chief stylist for every event he attended. The stylist knew his aura well and could always effortlessly turn him into the most eye-catching person in any crowd.

At the moment, he wore a long robe in the same color scheme as Qiao Qi’s outfit, hanging smoothly along his legs—it looked loose but still highlighted the width of his shoulders and the narrowness of his waist. He held a white paper fan with black characters on it; without looking at his half-tied-up hair, he had a rather scholarly air about him.

But the moment he opened his mouth, the rascal returned.

“Should we sync our story first, so people don’t corner us into confirming a ship?”

Qiao Qi calmly put some distance between them, not looking at his face, and answered offhandedly, “Isn’t there a script?”

Liang Yan seemed at a loss for words at this simple answer. “You think they’ll actually stick to the script?”

Oh.

“How should we handle it then?” Qiao Qi asked.

Liang Yan looked at her clean eyes, full of genuine curiosity, and suddenly all the words caught in his throat. By the time the curiosity in Qiao Qi’s eyes had turned to confusion, Liang Yan changed the subject. “Never mind.”

Qiao Qi: “?”

Liang Yan, uncharacteristically serious, said, “Just talk about whatever you want to talk about.”

—

Qiao Qi actually didn’t have much she wanted to talk about—but the magazine’s representative certainly did.

The person in charge had probably interviewed Liang Yan before, and before starting, said in a flattering tone, “Young Master Liang, please give us some good material today—we need to eat too, you know.”

Liang Yan sat in his chair, thoroughly unrestrained, leaning to one side with his arm draped over the backrest. On hearing this, he looked surprised. “When have I ever not given you material?”

The moment she heard this, the representative knew there’d be no story from him today. She smiled wryly, hoping the other lead might offer up more.

So she quietly shifted her focus to Qiao Qi. She first offered a friendly smile, then asked casually, “Is this your first time filming? Do you find it harder than your previous work?”

Qiao Qi answered without the slightest hesitation. “It really is quite hard.”

The representative: “…?”

Qiao Qi had no idea what was wrong with that answer. Though she usually looked down on Liang Yan, she had to admit she should probably learn a thing or two from him about handling interviews. She immediately turned to look at Liang Yan and found his expression was a bit odd too.

“…?” Qiao Qi asked quietly. “What’s wrong?”

Liang Yan looked at Qiao Qi’s eyes, slightly widened in confusion. The interview room was a temporary set, styled to deliberately evoke a Republican-era feel, so the overall tone leaned somber, with highly saturated colors. In such a setting, Qiao Qi’s eyes looked especially bright and clear.

She had the most striking features, yet her eyes so often carried the look of someone who hadn’t seen much of the world.

This was also why Liang Yan had just told her to talk about whatever she wanted.

He just hadn’t expected her to actually say whatever came to mind.

“You…” He hesitated, but realized there was no time for a crash course now, so he just said again, “Never mind.”

He’d just have to ask the magazine to cut whatever was inappropriate later.

Hearing Liang Yan say “never mind,” the representative was delighted.

She dropped her earlier dispirited tone and smiled brightly at Qiao Qi. “I hear this is your first time filming—what suddenly made you want to act?”

Qiao Qi, as always, told the truth. “To make money.”

The representative: “…You didn’t make much modeling before?”

Qiao Qi recalled once, at a magazine shoot, the person in charge at the time complaining that models like her earned more than they did with barely any effort.

So Qiao Qi said, “It was decent, I think. Probably more than you.”

The representative: “…?”

Why was this suddenly turning into a personal attack?

Beside her, Liang Yan quietly turned his head and gave her a thumbs up.

This finally gave Qiao Qi a sense of unease. She furrowed her brow slightly and sincerely asked the representative, “Was that not an appropriate thing to say? I didn’t mean it maliciously—I just… from what I know, that’s how it really is.”

She thought about it, then added, “But there are definitely exceptions.”

The representative laughed despite herself. “Well, I’m definitely not the exception—people at our agency who model really do earn more than I do.”

Qiao Qi went “mm,” then said, “Maybe becoming editor-in-chief would help.”

The representative looked horrified. “Oh my god, I have no intention of becoming editor-in-chief!”

Qiao Qi went “hm?” with genuine curiosity. “Really? I thought everyone wanted to be editor-in-chief.”

The representative shook her head like a rattle drum, and having finally gotten past that part, checked the script—the next question was about ideal romantic types.

This was a good question.

But asking it directly wouldn’t be interesting, so the representative asked something else first. “Teacher Qiao, now that you’ve formally entered the entertainment industry, will you consider finding a partner within the circle in the future?”

“No.” Qiao Qi denied it with absolute certainty.

The representative was a bit surprised—usually artists left themselves some wiggle room in their answers, since no one could guarantee the direction their career would take.

What if she really did end up with someone in the industry later? This answer would definitely be dug up by haters as ammunition to embarrass her.

“Why not?”

Qiao Qi smiled. “I already have someone I’m interested in.”

The representative was stunned.

She’d wanted information, sure, but she hadn’t expected the other party to be so direct—it made her feel like the big bad wolf.

And the other party was the little white rabbit who’d been tricked and still asked why.

So, with a guilty conscience, she hesitated and offered a gentle hint. “Um, that might come across as a little… blunt?”

“Is that blunt?” Qiao Qi thought of the interviews with Liang Yan she’d seen at the editing station before, and said, “Wasn’t Liang Yan even more blunt in his past interviews?”

Liang Yan, though also surprised by Qiao Qi’s answer, wondered why it had suddenly come back around to him.

“Hey? Talk about yourself, why bring me into it?”

Qiao Qi glanced sideways at him. “I’m just telling the truth.”

Liang Yan clicked his tongue. “That was a targeted response, okay? A fan wanted to be my girlfriend, I had to make my position clear, didn’t I?”

Qiao Qi thought of something, considered it for a few seconds, and looked at Liang Yan. “Then go ahead and make your position clear about fans wanting to be your boyfriend too.”

Liang Yan: “?”

Qiao Qi: “Can’t you?”

Liang Yan: “Do you know something?”

To keep Qiao Qi from actually saying whatever it was, the representative couldn’t help but cut in. “You two, why don’t… we talk about something that can actually be published?”

Qiao Qi turned to look at the representative. “Can’t this be published? What if a fan really does want to be his boyfriend—what then?”

The representative: “…”

Stumped.

She silently looked to Liang Yan for help.

Liang Yan took a deep breath, stared straight into the camera, and smiled. “Thanks for your concern—I’m male, and I like women.”

The representative: “…”

She really had wanted more material, but not information that couldn’t be aired, thank you very much.

Beside her, Qiao Qi heard Liang Yan’s declaration and quietly let out a breath of relief, then said cooperatively to the representative, “Let’s talk about something that can be published.”

“Okay, okay.” The representative nodded gratefully, practically in tears. “Then, Teacher Qiao, can you tell me a bit about life on set?”

“Life on set?” Qiao Qi thought seriously for a moment. “Nothing much, really—just filming. We rotate between three units.”

“You and Young Master Liang must be working together for the first time, right? I hear his fans span the globe—did you happen to like Young Master Liang before this?” The representative tried to steer things along.

“No.” Qiao Qi’s expression was earnest. “I’m not his fan.”

Beside her, Liang Yan was again at a loss for words. “Thanks. I’m not your fan either.”

The representative: “…Well, regarding all the online talk about your chemistry, have you seen any particularly interesting comments?”

Qiao Qi asked, “What chemistry?”

The representative picked up a board already covered with printed netizen comments and said, “You know, like how you’re a perfect match, or how some say you’re a scumbag paired with a seductress, ha ha ha.”

“Doesn’t seem like a good match.” Qiao Qi said, “I feel like Young Master Liang would suit an obedient, well-behaved girl better. I’m not really suited for it.”

Liang Yan couldn’t help raising a hand. “How am I a scumbag?”

Qiao Qi turned at the sound, looking at him earnestly. “You seem a little bit like one.”

Liang Yan: “…”

Qiao Qi: “There was also a comment before saying you go through a sea of flowers on set and come out without a petal sticking to you.”

Liang Yan: “That’s slander.”

Qiao Qi thought about it, and didn’t give him any face at all. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

Liang Yan: “…”

Throughout all this, the representative, sitting between them, watching the two leads, for some reason had a subtle feeling of “getting hooked.” She even set down the comment board and, cupping her face with both hands, watched the two of them turn their heads back and forth.

Whoever spoke, she’d turn to look at them, thoroughly absorbed in the show, completely forgetting her actual job.

In the end, when the editor-in-chief asked her to decide on a theme for the interview piece, without thinking twice, she blurted out nine words: Bickering Sweethearts, Love at First Fight!

Before finalizing the piece, the organizers sent a copy each to Qiao Qi and Liang Yan and got their responses.

Qiao Qi: The last four words are pretty good.

Liang Yan: I like women—except for Qiao Qi.

The representative: “…”

Are these two not getting along on set?

Author’s Note: Indeed.

They don’t get along too well on set.

But online, they get along quite well.