After being talked into feeling nervous by Wu Shuang’s few words, the moment Qiao Qi got back to her room she seriously searched Baidu Maps for the nearest police station address, then clutched her phone and took a nap.

But she only slept for less than an hour.

When she woke, cold sweat covered her forehead. With the curtains drawn and the lights off, she groped blindly for her phone and sent Li’ang a WeChat message.

7: Are you awake?

The other side replied quickly.

Liangou: Never even slept.

7: ? 7: Why not?

Liangou: Wanted to see you. Liangou: Too excited.

7: …

Liangou: Hehe. Liangou: Did you sleep?

7: …Yeah.

Not only had she slept.

7: I even had a dream.

She’d had a very strange dream. In it she’d been dressed up formally, standing beneath a spotlight, surrounded by darkness.

Yet she wasn’t afraid at all, as if she were going to meet someone dearest to her.

She walked forward, step by step, straight into the light, and then saw a man standing not far off.

He wore a trench coat, holding an umbrella one-handed, his back to her. The umbrella’s brim was wide, hiding his face, but she could see his shoulders — flat and broad — and the shape of his waist, well-defined beneath the coat.

Just as she remembered, he stood tall and straight; even in the darkness of night, he was the kind of figure impossible to look away from.

Without a sound, he gave off an overwhelming sense of security.

She looked at him and smiled, calling his name: “Li’ang.”

The man gave no response.

The surroundings suddenly fell into silence, and Qiao Qi blinked, dazed.

Then, under her gaze, the man slowly lifted the umbrella brim shielding his face, revealing… Liang Yan’s face.

And those peach-blossom eyes, always glinting with careless amusement, were slowly filling with mockery and derision.

As if saying: Online dating? How low-class is that?

Almost instantly, thunder cracked and lightning flashed overhead, and then rain poured down in torrents; she was soaked through in an instant, the wound on her shoulder aching faintly.

In her ears, an endless, 3D surround-sound loop: online dating, how low-class is that?

Qiao Qi’s pupils widened first, and then, almost instinctively, she drew a gun from her waist and, without a moment’s hesitation, aimed it at Liang Yan. A gunshot rang out — “bang” — and a bloody hole appeared in Liang Yan’s chest.

Qiao Qi stared at her phone screen, as if she could still see that patch of blood-red.

It took a good while before her vision cleared.

Liangou: …You’ve got some nerve.

Qiao Qi felt it wasn’t that she had nerve — it was that she was starting to lose the line between reality and the script.

Even if she really did meet Liang Yan in person, she wouldn’t go so far as to shoot him dead — that was something Cheng Yanyun would do.

7: Nightmare.

She didn’t want to dwell on it, and asked directly.

7: Are we still meeting today?

Liangou: ? Liangou: Having second thoughts?

7: No. 7: I’m just curious — you never asked for my address, so how were you planning to find me? 7: What if we’re a thousand miles apart?

Liangou: Because I have a brain.

7: ?

Liangou: [image]

Qiao Qi opened it, puzzled, and saw it was a screenshot — the content was her old complaint to him about bad weather.

7: ?

Liangou: You’re in Hu City.

Liangou: Only Hu City had bad weather those particular days.

7: …

7: Why didn’t you say so at the time.

7: What if it wasn’t the case?

Liangou: Then I would’ve flown through the night straight to your side.

Liangou: Transportation’s so developed now, could it really stop us from meeting even a thousand miles apart, if fate willed it?

7: …

7: You’re in Hu City too?

Liangou: That’s right.

Liangou: [hands-on-hips.jpg]

So Qiao Qi, without thinking, nearly sent over a screenshot of the address of the nearest police station.

Liangou: …

Liangou: …………

Liangou: [deadpan-glaring-at-you.jpg]

7: [innocently-looking-away.jpg]

Liangou: Are you serious???

Liangou: Are you trying to make me furious?

Liangou: When I lent you money to buy your ticket home, did I tell you to go pick it up at the police station?

Liangou: Now!

Liangou: Pat your conscience!

Liangou: Ask it if it even exists!

7: …

[System: 7 recalled a message]

7: My bad.

7: [facing-the-wall-in-reflection.jpg]

Liangou: Hmph.

Liangou: I have a small get-together with coworkers tonight, I’ll sneak out and call you then.

Liangou: I’m mad!

Liangou: You have to coax me back into a good mood!

Liangou: See you outside [the orange place].

Liangou: Do you need me to arrange a police officer escort for you?

Qiao Qi could tell the other side was deliberately teasing her, and she smiled.

7: I’ve also got a coworker get-together tonight, everyone’s going, wouldn’t be right for me not to.

Liangou: Mm.

Liangou: Same here.

Liangou: Sigh.

Liangou: Socializing, huh.

7: Is your social circle really that big?

For an ordinary celebrity, or even someone in the voice-acting world, the social circle would tend to be wide.

But she wasn’t like that — her life, honestly, was pretty dull.

What if… they met up and had nothing to talk about?

Qiao Qi couldn’t help imagining the awkward standoff, brows furrowing tightly.

7: Do you have a lot of friends?

The other side went silent for a moment, and though it was just text, Qiao Qi could still sense the seriousness in it.

Liangou: Student number 7.

7: Hmm?

Liangou: We’ve known each other for over two years now.

7: Mm…

Liangou: Only just now getting around to understanding me?

Liangou: I’m hurt.

Liangou: QAQ.

7: …

7: You say that like you know me so well.

Liangou: You like winter more than summer.

Liangou: Because in summer you have to wear sunscreen, and sunscreen’s expensive and troublesome.

Liangou: You like the north more than the south.

Liangou: Because it’s always raining in the south, your place is damp, and there’s no heating, so you’re always cold.

Liangou: You like noodles more than rice.

Liangou: Because you can slurp them.

Liangou: You don’t like milk tea, but you love fruit tea.

Liangou: You don’t have many friends, because you’re too busy earning money.

Liangou: Then spending it all on keeping your little brother.

7: …

7: How did you…

Liangou: Because I have a brain.

Liangou: Because you’re in my heart.

Liangou: And I’m not in yours. [smile]

This was the first time Qiao Qi had seen Li’ang send that little yellow smiling-guy emoji without feeling either guilty or amused.

Instead, a sense of contentment welled up in her, unbidden.

She smiled, and all her struggling and hesitation vanished at once. Then, openly and lightly, she replied.

7: I’ll wait for your call tonight.

7: I’m going to go get ready.

Liangou: Get ready for what?

Liangou: Dressing up fancy to come see me? [nose-picking.jpg]

7: Oh.

7: No.

7: It’s for the coworker dinner. [hehe]

Liangou: ?

Liangou: What is there to get ready for, then!

Liangou: Don’t get ready!

Liangou: Go bare-faced!

Liangou: Baby, you’re the most beautiful even bare-faced.

Liangou: [adorable.jpg]

Qiao Qi bluntly told him to get lost, then climbed out of bed, stood barefoot by the closet, chin propped on her hand, seriously picking out clothes.

Hu City hadn’t been too hot lately — a few bouts of heavy rain had swept away the summer heat, and by evening the air always carried a cool breeze.

If the get-together ran long, it would probably be quite late by the time it ended.

It would probably be a little cold.

Qiao Qi thought this over and pulled a mid-sleeve French vintage-green plaid dress from the closet — square neckline, high waist, showing off her waistline, collarbones, and shoulders without looking too flashy.

She hadn’t bothered doing much with her hair — she was still in the middle of filming and couldn’t casually mess with her hairstyle.

Otherwise she’d risk losing continuity between scenes.

After a quick tidy-up, Qiao Qi couldn’t resist taking a photo of herself in the mirror. To preserve some mystery, she deliberately cropped her face out, and noticing the messy background in the photo, she added some pixelation over it too.

A perfectly standard two-second photo, followed by half an hour of editing.

Once she’d confirmed there were no obvious flaws, Qiao Qi sent it to Li’ang.

Then she sat seriously on the edge of the bed, waiting for a reply.

What came back was —

Liangou: Tsk.

Qiao Qi: “…………?”

A little dazed, she looked up at herself in the mirror. The fresh green plaid made her naturally cool, fair skin look luminous, the clean, smooth line of her collarbones on display, the little dolphin collarbone necklace she’d specifically pulled out perched cheerfully at the hollow of her throat.

How did that warrant a “tsk”?

Utterly unconvinced, she looked back at her phone, only to find he’d sent another outrageous message.

Liangou: Change it.

Qiao Qi: “…………”

She noticed her fingers were trembling a little, tapping out three question marks in a row on the keyboard to express her disbelief.

7: Why???

Liangou: Too pretty.

Liangou: Your coworkers don’t deserve it.

Qiao Qi: “…Oh.”

Qiao Qi quietly looked up at the mirror again, and the person in it was visibly flushing red at a rate visible to the naked eye.

She rolled her eyes without meaning anything by it, but couldn’t help the corner of her mouth curling up, quickly glancing at her own reflection before hurriedly looking away again.

Then she replied.

7: Oh.

This man talked way too much!

—

That night, they gathered at the hotel lobby as planned. Likely arranged by Young Master Liang himself, five or six black seven-seater business vehicles were already lined up outside the entrance.

The actors in the crew were all dressed to the nines, climbing into the cars together, delighted.

Only Qiao Qi…

Wu Shuang couldn’t stand it. She herself, a young girl, had gone to great lengths, changing into a little dress and heels, even specially having the crew’s makeup artist do her hair. And Qiao Qi…?

Hmm?

The female lead?

What on earth was she wearing?

Wu Shuang, in disbelief, looked Qiao Qi up and down several times before finally shuffling over and, with full disdain, pinching Qiao Qi’s plain white, shapeless white tee, asking with total sincerity: “What is this?”

Qiao Qi looked completely innocent. “A shirt, do you like it? I can give you one—”

Wu Shuang let go of the hem, raising a hand to cut her off, “No need, thanks, I don’t deserve it.”

Then her gaze moved down, fixing on the black wide-leg pants Qiao Qi wore — the kind her own grandmother wouldn’t be caught dead in — and her mouth twitched. “And these pants of yours… never mind. Are you here to take out the trash? You’re going back to change later, right?”

“Nope.” Qiao Qi denied it crisply.

Wu Shuang: “…”

Qiao Qi looked at Wu Shuang’s blank expression — the girl’s round face and round eyes, cheeks full of collagen-plump youth, her skin even more flawless with makeup on — and couldn’t resist reaching out to pinch her cheek, laughing, “All right, it’s just a dinner.”

“Ow, my makeup’s going to smudge.” Wu Shuang grumbled, then pressed on, “Aren’t you meeting your online boyfriend? You’re wearing this?”

“Not tonight.” Qiao Qi now wore an expression that clearly said “how could you even think that,” “I’ll come back and change once this is over.”

Only then did Wu Shuang give a relieved-sounding “oh,” and then heard Qiao Qi add, “He doesn’t want me looking that pretty.”

Wu Shuang: “…”

Did I really need to hear you flaunting your love life like this?

What did I do to deserve this??

—

By the time they were eating, Qiao Qi had already started to zone out. For some reason, the closer it got to their meetup, the less she dared to send any messages on her phone.

It felt like no matter what she typed, there was always an awkward, self-conscious tinge to it.

So in the end, both sides simply stayed quiet.

After dinner, Qiao Qi was about to head back, but got caught by Wu Shuang, who — out of curiosity about what red wine and white liquor tasted like mixed together — had downed a wild concoction of alcohol and was now drunk, babbling nonsense and kissing whoever she could get her hands on.

Wu Shuang clung tightly to Qiao Qi, slurring, “Ahhh! Sis! Sister Yanyun! I have a question for you! You have to answer it! You must answer it!!”

Qiao Qi, expression completely blank, peeled her off, then held her chin with one hand and pushed her back, trying to reason with her, “Go on, then.”

Wu Shuang hummed and mumbled, shaking her head, finally slipping free from Qiao Qi’s grip, then grinning and wrapping her arms around Qiao Qi’s neck again. “Nope, I want to whisper it right in your ear!”

“It’s a secret!”

Nearby, Liang Yan, who’d been in a hurry to get to his own meetup, wanted nothing more than to toss this pesky brat straight into the sea. He stood by the road, car door half-open, one hand braced on the roof, the evening breeze lifting his tousled hair, revealing a pair of impatient eyes.

“Hey—” he called out to Qiao Qi, “Bring her over here, I’ll drop her back at the hotel.”

Qiao Qi thought it over. “I’ll take her, I actually need to head back to the hotel too.”

Hearing this, Liang Yan narrowed his eyes. “Not going to sing with the rest of them?”

“No, I’ve got something else.” Qiao Qi said.

Liang Yan tilted his chin. “I’ve got something too. Might as well have you haul her over and pin her down in the back, so she doesn’t throw up in my car.”

Wu Shuang, still with a shred of sobriety left, immediately spat back, “I won’t throw up!! I’m dressed too nicely! Absolutely not throwing up!”

Liang Yan felt his temple throbbing; he must have lost his own mind too, to be arguing back and forth with a drunk. “Talk like nobody else here is nicely dressed.”

Well.

Young Master Liang was looking pretty good himself tonight too.

Liang Yan had the kind of face that, with even a little effort put into it, could stun a room. Under the night sky his face looked cool and pale, his lips reddened slightly from the cold wind.

Unlike the other actors in the crew, dressed in suits and ties, he instead carried a relaxed, casual air, laced with a barely perceptible touch of refinement.

Like the black stud earring in his fair, gleaming earlobe — an irregular cut that, whether under streetlight or headlight, caught the light in a subtle, eye-catching halo no matter how carelessly it was angled.

Or the brand-new shoes on his feet, even the soles unworn, clearly color-coordinated with his clothes and pants with great care.

As for that hair that looked like it hadn’t been touched at all — Qiao Qi took one glance and knew this was the work of the makeup artist, Xiaoyu.

Qiao Qi glanced again, and her lips curved: A peacock.

Just then, for whatever reason, Wu Shuang suddenly flared up, “Oh! Pretty! You’re pretty too! So pretty, why waste it going back to the hotel! Let’s go sing karaoke! Go go go!!”

Liang Yan took a deep breath, trying to placate the child, “Let’s get in the car first, okay?”

The child bellowed loudly, “Okay!!”

Liang Yan visibly relaxed, then, sidestepping Wu Shuang, shot Qiao Qi a look; Qiao Qi immediately steadied Wu Shuang and helped her into the car. The car door had barely shut before Wu Shuang climbed onto Qiao Qi’s shoulder, rubbing against her whining, “Sis! Sis! I like you so much!”

“…” Qiao Qi answered with effort, “Thanks.”

Young Master Liang, doubling as the driver, watched the show unfold and couldn’t help laughing out loud.

Qiao Qi glanced at him quietly; Liang Yan looked back through the rearview mirror, tone teasing, “Rough night, huh, Teacher Qiao.”

Teacher Qiao wanted to draw her gun.

But before she could, Wu Shuang, somehow, had spotted the route they were taking. Wu Shuang was born and raised in Hu City — the city might be huge, but there wasn’t a nook or cranny she hadn’t been to since she was little, given how much she loved to run around.

So she glanced once and immediately caught on, reaching out to grab at Liang Yan: “What?! I don’t want to go back to the hotel! Don’t even think about it!”

Qiao Qi’s face went pale, hurrying to stop her.

This was a moving car — you couldn’t just go bothering the driver like that.

Driver Liang gripped the steering wheel, the veins on the back of his hand pulsing, and finally ground out through gritted teeth, “Fine, I’ll take you straight to the karaoke place right now — if you don’t sing me a whole album tonight, you’re not going anywhere.”

Qiao Qi: “…”

That’s not great — as far as she remembered, Wu Shuang was tone-deaf…

—

Eventually, out of concern for safety, Liang Yan chose to drop Wu Shuang off at the karaoke place first. During the ride, Qiao Qi and Liang Yan listened as she sang from “Little Swallow Wearing a Flower Coat” all the way to “Deep, Deep, Misty Rain,” finally looping endlessly on “This feeling, so damn great, great, great, great!”

By the time they got out of the car, Qiao Qi felt like there was a giant, bolded “GREAT” hanging in front of her eyes.

Liang Yan probably wasn’t doing much better, and as time ticked away, minute by minute, his expression grew darker and darker, until eventually he looked like he was about to blow at the slightest provocation.

Qiao Qi glanced at him subtly, pressed her lips together, and said, “I’ll take her in.”

But honestly, even sober, Wu Shuang was quite a whirlwind on a normal day; now with alcohol in her system, she was practically a rabid rabbit, not something Qiao Qi could easily handle alone.

Liang Yan could tell Qiao Qi was struggling a little too, and stepped over beside her, grabbing Wu Shuang’s slender arm roughly, “Stand still, for me!”

Seeing the KTV sign, Wu Shuang stopped fussing, even nodding obediently.

But she was dizzy, and had to lean against Liang Yan for support.

Liang Yan felt thoroughly uncomfortable being leaned on like that.

And of course, Wu Shuang, fearless of death, went and asked, “Mr. Liang, won’t your girlfriend get jealous if I lean on you like this?”

Liang Yan answered coldly, “My girlfriend wouldn’t think I’d be interested in some fifteen-year-old brat.”

Wu Shuang gave an “oh,” then swayed and leaned against Qiao Qi instead, “Sis, will your boyfriend get jealous if I lean on you like this?”

Qiao Qi: “I’m attracted to men.”

Wu Shuang gave another “oh.”

Just as Qiao Qi and Liang Yan both thought Wu Shuang would settle down from here on out, Wu Shuang suddenly summoned some mysterious burst of strength from who-knows-where, and while the two of them weren’t paying attention, grabbed one of each of their arms and, without warning, shoved the two of them together.

Caught completely off guard, Qiao Qi and Liang Yan collided head-on.

Qiao Qi felt her forehead crash straight into Liang Yan’s chin; she let out a hiss just as Liang Yan sucked in a sharp breath of his own.

The two of them, having collided, staggered backward from the momentum; Qiao Qi, unsteady for a moment, nearly fell —

Because Liang Yan had thrown out his arm, wrapping it around her waist.

In that instant the loose, shapeless white tee transformed into a fitted, chest-and-waist-flattering top, fully revealing the beautiful contours of Qiao Qi’s figure.

The scene froze for two seconds.

Qiao Qi: “…”

Liang Yan: “…”

The instigator, Wu Shuang, burst out laughing.

Qiao Qi and Liang Yan stared at each other for two or three seconds, then, as if by unspoken agreement, both stepped back at the same time — and each landed a smack on Wu Shuang.

One landed on the back of her head.

One landed on her rear.

The scene fell silent again for another two or three seconds.

Then Wu Shuang’s thunderous wailing erupted.

Qiao Qi: “…”

Liang Yan: “…”

Help!

—

Thanks to the help of the KTV manager and staff, Qiao Qi and Liang Yan, without a word between them, delivered the sobbing, wailing Wu Shuang back to a private room. Since the crew had so many actors, Young Master Liang had booked more than one room.

Wu Shuang was obviously meant for the room with Cheng Yueming, since Cheng Yueming usually kept close with the Baile girls.

Once she was delivered, Liang Yan found himself, like a monk who’d wandered into a room full of women, immediately swarmed by girls eager to toast him.

Liang Yan usually chatted and laughed easily with the girls, but today he seemed somewhat cold. The corner of his mouth still held its usual faint smile, but a distant, indifferent look lingered in his eyes.

“I’ll pass, I’ve got something else, need to drive back to the hotel.” He said, then turned to ask Qiao Qi, “Teacher Qiao, coming?”

The rest of the room erupted in a chorus of “oohs,” “Is Mr. Liang going on a date with Teacher Qiao?”

Liang Yan gave a light scoff, “I really am going on a date, but not with Teacher Qiao.”

“Don’t go slandering Teacher Qiao’s good name.”

By then, Qiao Qi had already discreetly pulled out her phone and sent Li’ang a message — it was, after all, getting quite late.

The moment she sent it, she saw the screen of the phone in Liang Yan’s hand light up.

In the private room, some people were drinking, some were singing, and someone sharp-eyed noticed Liang Yan’s phone light up and called out, “Mr. Liang’s phone lit up, girlfriend’s calling him out!”

Liang Yan lowered his head and, without any hesitation, opened WeChat. The corner of his mouth carried a faint smile, the distant coldness in his eyes fading, replaced instead by a subtle layer of tenderness.

Qiao Qi couldn’t help letting her gaze drift over toward him for a brief second, then politely looked away.

But the next second, she froze on the spot.

Wait.

Those two avatars on the chat screen…?

All sense of politeness or manners flew straight out of her mind in that instant; Qiao Qi quietly turned her gaze back, staring fixedly at Liang Yan’s phone screen.

Above, the other side had just sent a message: I might be a little late, QAQ.

Liang Yan’s lips curved up as he replied, tapping quickly: Got it, might be a little late on my end too.

No rush, I’ll definitely get to see you.

In a corner where no one was paying attention, Qiao Qi felt her own phone buzz twice in her hand.

Still wearing a dazed expression, she slowly lowered her head to check her own phone.

The message that popped up on her screen was word-for-word identical to what Liang Yan had just sent to his chat partner.

Qiao Qi: “…”

Qiao Qi: “…………”

Qiao Qi: “…………….”

After a long, drawn-out silence, Liang Yan put his phone away and glanced over, unconcerned, “Let’s go.”

Qiao Qi was still caught in the shock of having, without meaning to, just come face to face with her online partner. “…………”

Liang Yan: “?”

He glanced at her. “What’s wrong?”

Qiao Qi, almost as if fleeing, took a step back; the distance between them widened, and Liang Yan came fully into her line of sight, unobstructed.

The private room lighting was actually quite dim, but Liang Yan stood right beside the giant screen, and its white light illuminated the side of his face.

He was half in overexposed brightness, half hidden in shadow.

The image merged, seamlessly, with that night two years ago.

Qiao Qi: “…………”

At last, she admitted it.

Her nightmare had come true…

But…

Qiao Qi couldn’t help but keep staring at Liang Yan, her gaze sweeping over him several times.

Just then, someone happened to be singing: Little friend, do you have a lot of question marks?

Qiao Qi: “…”

She did!

She had so many!

Wasn’t he supposed to be some elite professional?

Wasn’t he supposed to live abroad most of the time?

Huh huh huh?

Liang Yan?

Li’ang?

Liang… wait a minute…

Qiao Qi’s eyes suddenly widened, realization dawning.

So it was this Liang?!

Author’s Note: From this point on, Teacher Qiao begins a new side quest: “I’ll just quietly watch you act.”

Meanwhile, Young Master Liang is happily digging himself deeper and deeper into a hole!

Sorry for being late, everyone!

20 red envelopes!