Somehow, word of Qiao Qi and Liang Yan not getting along during the VG interview spread around the set afterward. At first it was just that the two weren’t each other’s ideal type. Then it turned into the two looking down on each other. Then it became the two utterly despising each other, nearly coming to blows during the interview. Finally it morphed into Qiao Qi having pursued Liang Yan and failed, and holding a grudge over unrequited love.
By the time this reached Wu Shuang’s ears, it had become “Qiao Qi, having failed to hold a grudge against Liang Yan, resorted to shameless pursuit instead.” As a shipper of the real-life pairing, hearing this kind of news about her OTP felt like a bolt from the blue.
The girl couldn’t sit still. She tailed Qiao Qi after they’d finished going over their scenes, chewing on her coffee straw and staring at her.
Wherever Qiao Qi went, Wu Shuang’s eyes followed, never stopping for a second.
Afraid of missing any important detail.
Qiao Qi didn’t notice at first, because she was busy. She had a lot of scenes today, and while none were particularly heavy, they spanned different periods of Cheng Yanyun’s life, so after finishing each one she had to spend time readjusting herself.
One of the scenes involved Ming Yan getting jealous over Cheng Yanyun dancing in a dress, causing a drunken scene at Baile Nightclub, and finally being thrown out by Cheng Yanyun herself.
The young master Ming had been coddled and spoiled his whole life and had never experienced unrequited love before. When he got thrown out of Baile, the sky was still bright, with passersby coming and going—no one expected that Young Master Ming would one day stumble in matters of love.
Someone loose-lipped carried the story to Old Master Ming, and losing face over it, the old man had his disgraceful son dragged back home, along with “inviting” Miss Cheng back to the house as well.
Right now, Qiao Qi was running lines with a senior actor playing Old Master Ming.
For some reason, Qiao Qi just couldn’t get into the right state. The senior actor patiently offered a couple of pointers, but Qiao Qi didn’t have an immediate epiphany, and could only walk off, script in hand, embarrassed and apologetic.
Actually, compared to being coached by others, she was better at entering a character’s world on her own and quietly working things out for herself.
In the corner, after failing to grasp it for the third time, Qiao Qi was about to put down the script and take a walk. But as she walked, she noticed something felt off.
Though there were plenty of cameras and onlookers on set as usual, and she was used to feeling eyes on her, today this particular pair of “eyes” felt strange somehow.
While sensing this gaze appraising her, she pretended not to notice anything, subtly trying to trace its source.
It was afternoon, the set crowded and chaotic—staff bustling around the actors, and fans who’d been secretly smuggled in taking sneaky photos and videos.
But none of that was it.
Qiao Qi’s search expanded inch by inch, until finally her gaze settled on a rest area.
—There, in the prime spot, Young Master Liang was holding a pair of binoculars, looking at who-knew-what.
Qiao Qi stared at him for a while, confirmed that the binoculars were indeed pointed in her direction, then pressed her lips together and walked over.
She stopped right in front of him and reached up to cover the lens with her hand.
Liang Yan felt the pressure against the rim of the binoculars and startled slightly. He moved his eye away from the lens, squinted, and looked up to see Qiao Qi looming over him, looking displeased.
“?” Liang Yan was confused.
He was still wearing the outfit Cheng Yanyun had thrown out onto the road in earlier, a few leaves scattered by the autumn wind still clinging to his hair. The stylist had drawn a couple of strokes of bruised marks around his eyes and mouth—these marks didn’t make him look pathetic; instead, they added an intriguing sort of unruliness.
At the moment, confusion clearly rose on his face, his peach-blossom eyes narrowing to slits as he stared at Qiao Qi. “Something wrong?”
Qiao Qi was almost amused by his self-righteous counter-question. “You tell me, something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong with me.” Liang Yan opened his usually lazy, languid eyes a bit wider, a rare, faint layer of bewilderment settling over his dark irises.
Looking at him now, Qiao Qi realized his eyes were actually quite large. But she clearly had no time right now to be admiring how big this young master’s eyes were. With a slight twist of her wrist, she took the binoculars from his hands.
Mainly because Liang Yan made no move to stop her—if anything, he looked at her with some surprise. “You’re interested in this? It’s not mine, it’s Guo Lingling’s. Some kaleidoscope she got from who knows where—it’s actually pretty interesting—”
“A kaleidoscope?” Qiao Qi froze.
“Yeah, haven’t you played with one? It’s the kind you turn, and different patterns appear inside…” Liang Yan saw Qiao Qi still looking dazed, and assumed she really hadn’t played with one before.
Then, thinking of her upbringing in an orphanage, Liang Yan suddenly felt this girl he usually found so irritating seemed rather pitiful.
So he gave a light “ah” and, taking it upon himself, said, “It’s nothing important anyway. I’ll give it to you—I’ll get Guo Lingling another one later.”
Qiao Qi: “…”
Who actually wanted to look at this thing.
But… Qiao Qi lowered her eyes, staring at Liang Yan sitting on the little stool. Once the kaleidoscope was gone, he turned his attention to his phone, showing no sign of asking why she’d suddenly appeared in front of him.
It really did seem like he just thought she was curious about his kaleidoscope.
Well, since that was the case… Qiao Qi bit her lip subtly and quietly took the excuse to leave.
She clutched the kaleidoscope tightly in her hand, the tension and embarrassment turning into a faint red at the tips of her ears, and walked off to the side almost like she was fleeing the scene.
—And then, without meaning to, met eyes with Wu Shuang, who was in the corner with her eyes wide open.
Wu Shuang: “…”
Uh oh.
Looks like I’ve been caught.
And Qiao Qi, catching Wu Shuang’s guilty retreat of her gaze, suddenly realized something. She narrowed her eyes, and after a few seconds, gripped the kaleidoscope even tighter.
Then walked step by step toward Wu Shuang.
Though Wu Shuang was no longer staring directly at Qiao Qi, her guilty conscience meant her peripheral vision was entirely filled with Qiao Qi. She glanced at Qiao Qi walking toward her, her heart pounding faster and faster.
Until a cold voice came from above her.
“Why’d you stop watching?”
Wu Shuang: “…”
She froze, expression stiff for two seconds, then, realizing she couldn’t escape, curved her eyes into crescent moons and smiled ingratiatingly. “Ah haha, sis, how’d you know I was watching you? Ah hahaha, it must be because you’ve been so pretty your whole life! You’re used to being looked at, right?”
Qiao Qi said nothing, silently looking down at her.
Feeling this unwavering stare, Wu Shuang’s voice went from a loud, guilty tone to gradually, gradually shrinking into a mosquito-like hum. “Mm… I was just… looking around casually…”
Qiao Qi still didn’t speak, keeping her gaze fixed on Wu Shuang’s face.
Wu Shuang closed her mouth, forced to tilt her face up to look at Qiao Qi, blinking once, then again, then again…
Confirming that Qiao Qi wasn’t going to be swayed by her cuteness, Wu Shuang gave a small huff and, resigning herself to it, said, “Fine! I was watching you, okay!”
Qiao Qi finally spoke. “Watching me do what?”
She hooked a nearby small chair with her foot and sat down beside Wu Shuang, tilting her head to look at her with a seemingly calm expression.
In reality… she wanted to strangle Wu Shuang!
All because of this clueless little girl, she’d nearly embarrassed herself in front of Liang Yan!
Wu Shuang had been scared just now, but having openly admitted it, she wasn’t scared anymore.
That’s just how human fear works—what’s frightening usually isn’t the danger itself, but that stretch of nerve-wracking time before the danger arrives.
Wu Shuang cupped her face, eyes flicking back and forth between Qiao Qi’s face and the kaleidoscope in Qiao Qi’s hand, until a chill crept down Qiao Qi’s back.
The next second, she saw Wu Shuang curve her eyes into moon crescents again, full of eagerness to please. “Sis, did Young Master Liang reject you? Oh no, Young Master Liang mentioned before that he has a girlfriend! You should’ve waited for him to break up first before making a move!”
“…?”
Qiao Qi couldn’t quite process this. She was certain there was no complex logic to what Wu Shuang had just said, so it wasn’t a mishearing, or a hallucination.
Her expression went through an indescribable moment of contemplation before she asked, with some difficulty, “Wait, hold on, what did you say? Me, rejected by Liang Yan?”
“Yeah.” Wu Shuang saw that Qiao Qi’s expression wasn’t quite right, and secretly sighed to herself, thinking she really wasn’t steady enough—she’d barely started watching before getting caught red-handed. Sister Qiao Qi might be cold usually, but at the end of the day she was still a girl, and girls got shy.
Sigh.
She’d been too careless herself.
So, to spare Qiao Qi’s feelings, Wu Shuang deliberately lowered her voice. “Sis, it’s okay, look, even though Young Master Liang looked reluctant to deal with you just now, at least he gave you the thing you wanted, didn’t he? No rush, we can play the long game… mmph!”
It was Qiao Qi covering Wu Shuang’s mouth.
Wu Shuang glared, struggling, trying to keep talking in muffled sounds.
Qiao Qi’s face had gone completely dark. “Shut up.”
Wu Shuang froze for a moment, then struggled even harder, mumbling a whole string of muffled sounds through her covered mouth.
Just as Qiao Qi was about to silence her again, a voice suddenly came from above:
“Broad daylight, and you’re committing murder? Isn’t that illegal?”
Wu Shuang stopped struggling, her eyelids drooping listlessly, as if to say: See, I could have warned you.
Qiao Qi: “…”
She slowly raised her face, meeting Liang Yan’s half-smiling eyes.
Liang Yan first glanced at her leisurely, then shifted his gaze to Wu Shuang’s face, leaning slightly forward, smiling. “What did the little one do to make your big sister angry?”
This time, Wu Shuang didn’t wait for Qiao Qi to cover her mouth—she crossed both hands and covered it herself.
And in the process, covered Qiao Qi’s hand tightly along with it.
Qiao Qi tried to pull her hand back twice without success, looking at her with some exasperation.
Only then did Wu Shuang realize she’d accidentally trapped Qiao Qi’s hand too. She hurriedly let go, and once Qiao Qi withdrew her hand, covered her own mouth tightly again.
Then looked at Qiao Qi with utmost sincerity, silently swearing: I will absolutely not repeat any of that to Young Master Liang!
Reading Wu Shuang’s expression, Qiao Qi felt not just a headache coming on, but a ringing in her ears.
To get to the bottom of this whole confusing logic, Qiao Qi stood up expressionlessly, first looking at Liang Yan. “Broad daylight, murder’s illegal, right?”
Liang Yan instinctively nodded.
Qiao Qi nodded too, then quickly and precisely hauled Wu Shuang up.
As effortlessly as picking up a kitten.
Liang Yan didn’t know why, but he suddenly felt a twinge of pain in the small of his back.
Then, as Qiao Qi carried Wu Shuang past him, he heard Qiao Qi say, “I’m taking her to the black room to kill her.”
Liang Yan: “…”
He watched Qiao Qi head from the set toward the break room, pondered for a moment, then took out his phone and messaged the person pinned to the top of his WeChat.
Liang: Inside info.
Liang: Your idol might be headed for [the morgue].
Liang: My condolences.
Author’s Note: 7: Inside info.
7: Your idol might be headed for the morgue.