By the third time Wu Shuang leaned in close to her, Qiao Qi finally turned her head and rewarded her with a look that wasn’t quite entirely blank.
But her tone of voice still had absolutely no fluctuation, no life in it at all. “Something wrong?”
Wu Shuang, having sobered up a little, thought back to what she’d done while under the influence of alcohol earlier, and shrank her head guiltily, laughing awkwardly. “Sister Qiao Qi…”
Qiao Qi answered with an utterly indifferent “mm.”
Wu Shuang, her large round eyes rolling around and around, finally asked, “Weren’t you… meeting your online boyfriend today?”
Yes.
They’d already met.
Only the other party didn’t know it yet.
Qiao Qi thought, a flash of cold amusement crossing her eyes. Her gaze drifted past Wu Shuang to Liang Yan sitting beside her, who at that moment was fully absorbed in his phone.
The cold light of the screen shone directly onto his face; with the room’s dim lighting, even that faint cold glow was enough to make his exceptional features perfectly clear.
From where Qiao Qi sat, she could see with perfect clarity the sharp, well-defined lines of his profile, the not-entirely-pleased set of his lips also plain to see.
Qiao Qi stared for another few seconds, then let out a faint, quite noticeable cold laugh, before turning her gaze away. Looking outwardly calm but with her mind full of the word “absurd,” she answered Wu Shuang, “No time, not meeting up anymore.”
Even someone as slow to catch on as Wu Shuang could tell Qiao Qi wasn’t in a good mood right now, so she quietly scooted her rear a little further away, sitting up straight and proper, so as not to become collateral damage — but—
“Still scooting away? Should I just get you your own eighty-square-meter private room?” Liang Yan said, eyes narrowed as he glanced over, phone still clutched in hand, leaning forward slightly with his elbows pressed against his knees.
This posture made him look like a patient, poised leopard, ready to pounce.
As he turned his head to look at Wu Shuang, his body position stayed mostly unchanged, so the cold light lit up the side of his face while leaving the front somewhat in shadow.
It also gave him, inexplicably, a somewhat gloomy air.
Struck by that cold look, Wu Shuang felt her scalp go numb — she was nearly scared to tears — and shuffled closer to Qiao Qi. “Wh-what did I do?”
Liang Yan shot her another glance, then gave an extremely obvious, irritated “tsk,” before standing up, phone in hand, and leaving the room.
As Young Master Liang left, his whole body radiated an unconcealed restlessness; anyone with eyes and a functioning brain could tell he was in a bad mood. Everyone anxiously watched him go, then turned their gaze back to Wu Shuang.
Wu Shuang looked both wronged and innocent. “What did I do?! I really don’t know what’s going on!”
To prove her innocence, she even grabbed onto Qiao Qi. “Sis! Tell them, I really didn’t do anything! This has nothing to do with me!”
Qiao Qi, meeting everyone’s gaze, took part for the first time in something that seemingly had nothing at all to do with her, nodded lightly, and gave a “mm.”
Because it did have something to do with her.
As the others’ attention drifted away one by one, Qiao Qi calmly lowered her eyes as if nothing were wrong. Her unadorned lashes, long and dark, cast a faint shadow over her eyelids as they fell.
That shadow perfectly concealed the indescribable emotion swirling in her eyes.
Her gaze landed on her own phone; her thumb lightly pressed the home button, and the screen instantly lit up.
There, the WeChat chat window with Liangou showed:
7: Something came up suddenly.
7: Can’t make it.
7: Maybe some other time.
Liangou: ?
Liangou: Is it too late on my end?
Liangou: Sorry, baby, I really didn’t mean it — a coworker who’s not even legal drinking age got smashed drunk and nearly got hit trying to shake someone down.
Liangou: Where are you? I’ll come find you right now.
Liangou: Hmm? I really will come right now.
Qiao Qi hadn’t replied.
About five minutes later, the other side sent another string of messages.
Liangou: Are you actually mad?
Liangou: Let’s talk in person.
Liangou: If it comes to it, you can even hit me a few times when we meet.
Liangou: Hmm?
She still hadn’t replied.
Then, two minutes later — right around the time Liang Yan had left the room —
Liangou: …………
Liangou: Fine, we won’t meet then.
Liangou: Whatever you say.
Liangou: You decide when we meet.
Liangou: [cute-and-adorable, no head.jpg]
Qiao Qi recalled the expression she’d just seen on Liang Yan’s face, and the corner of her mouth lifted into a faint, mocking curve.
She really hadn’t expected that face, black as if he were about to go commit murder with a knife, had actually been the one typing out all these messages.
So when he usually sent her all those sweet, flirtatious lines, was he doing it completely straight-faced the whole time?
This kind of thing really couldn’t stand up to overthinking, because once you started down that road, everything you’d previously imagined about those chat exchanges would fall apart. For instance —
When he’d said “baby,” his eyes probably hadn’t been smiling at all — maybe he’d just casually tossed it off while joking around with some other actress on set.
When he’d said “whoever made you angry, I’ll go beat them up,” he probably hadn’t actually shared her indignation — maybe he’d been out drinking and eating with some industry friend at the time.
And when he’d said “wait for you to come find me and get married,” maybe he’d just woken up and was mindlessly rambling nonsense without a second thought.
Qiao Qi: “…………”
She couldn’t help but take a deep breath, then put her phone away, straightened her back, and stared straight ahead.
She felt like she was about to be furious to death.
Just then, the private room door was suddenly pushed open, and Qiao Qi’s eyes flicked over to see Liang Yan walking back in.
His expression was truly awful — but Qiao Qi didn’t feel any satisfaction seeing him look so bad. Instead, she felt like a balloon someone had quietly been inflating, right on the verge of bursting, only for it to suddenly spring a leak.
She deflated instantly, at a total loss for what to do.
Her gaze couldn’t help following Liang Yan as he sat back down in his spot, looking utterly lifeless, and started drinking.
Qiao Qi, almost without meaning to, picked up her phone and sent him a message.
7: Mm.
7: What are you up to?
After sending it, she rolled her eyes over toward Liang Yan and saw that his eyes had brightened at the phone’s light. For some reason, in that single second, all the irritation and restlessness seemed to melt right out of him, and even that faint cold light on his phone screen suddenly seemed to glimmer like stars.
He held his phone, the corner of his mouth curling up visibly, fingers tapping quickly across the screen.
Right after, Qiao Qi felt her own phone buzz a few times. Before looking down, she paused for a second, then, feeling a little conflicted, glanced away.
Two seconds later, her gaze drifted back to Liang Yan’s face.
Just then, the giant screen in the private room happened to cut to a blank, empty shot, and the bright light fell directly onto Liang Yan’s face, illuminating the smile at the corner of his mouth with perfect clarity.
Once Qiao Qi was sure she hadn’t seen wrong, she pulled her gaze away, almost as if fleeing.
Her whole body suddenly felt uneasy; she frowned slightly, uncomfortable, and pushed down the shift she felt happening somewhere inside her.
Then she looked at the reply Liang Yan had sent her:
Liangou: Still at the get-together.
Qiao Qi, without quite knowing why, casually sent one back.
7: Oh.
7: Are there more guys or girls at your dinner tonight?
After sending it, she saw Liang Yan’s head snap up the moment he got the message, looking left and right, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly, before he slowly straightened his back and started typing.
Then Qiao Qi received his reply.
Liangou: Not sure.
Liangou: Didn’t notice.
Liangou: The room’s too dark, can’t tell.
Qiao Qi, expressionless, lifted her face and followed the same angle Liang Yan had just been looking from, scanning the room. There were roughly a dozen or so people in this private room at the moment, two-thirds of them women.
Each one dressed to impress, drinking and laughing merrily.
Qiao Qi felt her own eyesight was clearly good enough — she could see it all perfectly clearly. What was he playing dumb for?
So Qiao Qi tossed back two characters.
7: Ha ha.
Liangou: ?
Liangou: What’s wrong?
7: I asked you to count the guys and girls, not to check out what everyone looked like.
7: Do you need a Liang Yan 0.5 to help you count?
Liangou: ?
Liangou: ???
Qiao Qi hadn’t originally noticed anything off, but out of the corner of her eye she’d clearly seen Liang Yan suddenly go rigid all over, then clutch his phone with a deadly serious expression.
Liangou: Liang Yan?
Qiao Qi: “…”
Oh.
Autocorrect slip.
Just as Qiao Qi was about to explain, she paused, then slowly looked up at Liang Yan beside her — right now he looked like a fully alert… big wolfhound.
Qiao Qi couldn’t help letting out a snort of laughter.
Perhaps Liang Yan was just too sensitive; hearing her laugh, he turned to look, and for once those always easygoing peach-blossom eyes were clouded with something like bewilderment.
…Goodness.
He really did look like a big wolfhound.
Qiao Qi, unable to hold back her laughter, said, “Hmm?”
Liang Yan frowned at her. “What are you laughing at?”
Qiao Qi: “Oh, nothing, just laughing for the fun of it.”
Liang Yan: “…?”
“You’ve got issues.”
Qiao Qi: “…………”
Oh.
She lowered her head again, seeing that online he presented a completely different face than in person.
Liangou: What Liang Yan?
Liangou: What about Liang Yan?
Liangou: [cupping-face-curious.jpg]
Qiao Qi looked at that cutesy, face-cupping sticker, then thought of how, just seconds ago, he’d been full of open disdain telling her she “had issues” — the feeling was… rather subtle.
And also kind of… though Qiao Qi didn’t quite want to admit it, she did feel a little happy, somehow.
How strange.
7: Sorry.
7: Typo, meant “him” not “Yan.”
7: Blame the keyboard’s autocorrect.
Liangou: …
Liangou: …………
Liangou: …………….
Amusement colored Qiao Qi’s eyes; she was doing this on purpose.
7: What?
7: Every time Liang Yan comes up, you react so strongly.
7: Could it be that you actually are Liang Yan?
The moment she sent it, Qiao Qi paused and immediately looked up at Liang Yan.
She noticed that when he received this message, he froze too, and, whether hesitating or wrestling with himself, he stayed silent, brows furrowed, for a long while without replying.
Qiao Qi suddenly felt a little nervous.
She was almost… afraid that Liang Yan would actually admit it.
Because she still hadn’t figured out how to face the fact that Li’ang was Liang Yan — and once he admitted it, that would mean she’d also have to…
Qiao Qi’s pupils tightened; hurriedly, she sent another message.
7: Just kidding.
7: I know you’re a Liang Yan fan.
7: Makes sense to follow him closely.
Liangou: …
Liangou: I already told you, I’m not.
Mm.
You are him.
Qiao Qi suddenly recalled that once, in one of their conversations, Li’ang had said something like: What if I really were Liang Yan?
How had she responded back then?
Oh right.
She’d said: Then I guess I’m still Qiao Qi!
Qiao Qi: “…”
Qiao Qi: “…………”
How awkward.
They’d each thought the other was joking around.
Who knew both of them had been quietly speaking the truth all along.
…Sigh.
Qiao Qi quietly let out a sigh.
Beside her, Wu Shuang, hearing the sigh, leaned over curiously, craning her neck to peek at Qiao Qi’s phone screen. Luckily, Qiao Qi was quick enough to lock the screen in time.
But she wasn’t sure whether Wu Shuang had caught a glimpse or not.
Probably out of a guilty conscience herself, Wu Shuang spoke up first, “What’s wrong?”
Wu Shuang poked Qiao Qi’s cheek with a finger, staring at her. “What were you looking at? Smiling so happily?”
Qiao Qi blinked, stammering, “Huh? Was I smiling?”
Wu Shuang nodded with certainty. “But you also sighed.”
“What did you see that made your mood so complicated?” she asked.
Qiao Qi thought it over — this situation was indeed complicated enough to warrant it.
But she didn’t elaborate, only saying, “Just chatting with a friend.”
Wu Shuang immediately switched to an “I get it, I totally get it” expression, “What friend? If it’s a boyfriend, just say boyfriend, why call him a friend! That’s not very confident of you — if your boyfriend found out, he’d be so hurt.”
Just then, Liang Yan interjected, “Teacher Qiao, you rarely get a day off, why not go on a date with your boyfriend?”
Qiao Qi, without quite knowing why, shot back, “Don’t you have a girlfriend too? Why aren’t you off on a date?”
Under both Wu Shuang’s and Qiao Qi’s watchful gazes, Liang Yan said, unhurried, “My girlfriend’s overseas, too far away. She probably feels bad for me, doesn’t want me flying back and forth — I’ll just video call her once I’m back tonight.”
As he said this, Liang Yan wore a spring-breeze smile across his whole face, the corner of his mouth curving up in just the right arc.
No one should have doubted he was lying.
Take Wu Shuang, for instance — she believed it wholeheartedly, feeling a pang of envy first, then remarking, “Turns out even when Mr. Liang falls in love, it’s not that different from the rest of us regular folks.”
“Mm-hm,” Liang Yan said. “Don’t put me on too high a pedestal, no need for that. As long as my girlfriend knows how great I am, that’s enough.”
Qiao Qi wore the same expression the entire time — a full screen of question marks.
Wasn’t he supposed to be an overseas elite?
Why had he now arranged for her to be abroad too?
Feels bad for him?
Video calls?
“Mr. Liang — no, Teacher Liang.” Qiao Qi said, with genuine sincerity, “You deserve to be put on that pedestal.”
“Because your acting really is very good.”
Having said that, she turned back to her phone.
7: Fine, fine, fine.
7: I know, I know.
7: You’re not, you’re not.
Liangou: Correct, not me.
Liangou: But I do know you’re a Qiao Qi fan.
Qiao Qi silently raised an eyebrow.
7: What about you, then.
7: Did you turn from anti-fan to fan of Qiao Qi first?
Liangou: Never been an anti-fan, thanks.
Liangou: I’m way too classy a person to be a Qiao Qi hater.
7: Teacher Qiao?
Liangou: …
Liangou: Isn’t it normal to call everyone “teacher” these days? It’s polite.
Liangou: And classy.
7: Then try a little harder.
7: Turn into a real fan with me.
Liangou: Sigh.
Liangou: Sincere advice, don’t get too emotionally invested in chasing celebrities.
Liangou: If you’ve got that much energy to spare, put it toward your online boyfriend instead.
Liangou: Thanks.
7: Why?
7: Have you heard some gossip about Qiao Qi or something?
Nearly a minute later, Qiao Qi received a reply.
Liangou: It’s just… complicated.
Liangou: Hard to put into words.
Qiao Qi glanced up abruptly at Liang Yan; Liang Yan, having just finished commenting on Qiao Qi, found himself being stared at by Qiao Qi, and after reviewing his own comment once more, decided he hadn’t said anything wrong.
His whole history filming with Qiao Qi was, honestly, a long story — genuinely complicated, hard to put into words.
So he immediately shed any sense of guilt, looked back at Qiao Qi, and said, “What?”
Qiao Qi smiled faintly. “Nothing.”
Liang Yan eyed her suspiciously, gave an “oh,” and turned his attention back to his phone.
Just then, someone mentioned that Director Cheng was hurrying everyone to head home in the group chat, since they still had work early the next morning.
Quite a few people had been drinking, and were busy calling designated drivers one after another.
Liang Yan hadn’t had much to drink originally, but had just now had a little, so he couldn’t drive either.
Just as he was hesitating over whether to call a designated driver too, a slender, fair hand floated past his eyes and picked up the car keys off the glass table.
He looked up, meeting Qiao Qi’s smiling face.
“I’ll drive, Teacher Liang.”
Only then did Liang Yan belatedly realize something felt off. Something about Qiao Qi tonight seemed to have shifted in some indescribable way.
Though compared to everyone else she was still cool and reserved as usual, compared to her past self, wasn’t she being a little too enthusiastic today?
Enthusiastic?
Liang Yan suddenly thought of something, and his mood turned subtly complicated.
Author’s Note: Time to prove that my kink is different from everyone else’s!
Other writers like to write the female lead getting caught, the male lead secretly observing her, all sweet and flirty.
I’m different, I like watching the male lead be completely shameless. [doge]
Ah.
Delightful.