But Qiao Qi never got the chance to call Liang Yan, because Liang Yan had run into one of his fans right at the elevator. The fan had apparently just squeezed her way up out of the crowd of reporters, nearly missing her shift change, and stepped out of the elevator with an impatient look on her face — only to look up and come face to face with her own idol.

The fan froze on the spot, half-convinced she was dreaming. She stammered, “L-Liang… Young Master Liang?”

Liang Yan’s expression was grim. Tall, broad-shouldered, long-armed, he had nearly wrapped Liang Xumo’s entire body within his own embrace, shielding her.

Liang Xumo was clearly in an emotionally volatile state right now; clinging to Liang Yan felt like clinging to safety itself. Her hair was long, and when she turned her face to the side, it covered half of it.

The fan hadn’t gotten a clear look at who this woman was, but judging by their posture, if she wasn’t his girlfriend, she wasn’t far off from one.

Choking down her heartbreak, the fan said to Liang Yan, “Young Master Liang, there are a ton of reporters downstairs…”

Liang Yan’s eyes went cold. “What?”

He hadn’t actually done anything, yet his presence alone was enough to push the fan back inch by inch, too intimidated to get closer. She stammered, “Y-yes, there are a lot of people downstairs, I— I don’t think they’re here for you, are they?”

Hard to say, really.

But today’s schedule was a private matter — by rights, no one should have known about it.

How had it leaked?

Liang Yan frowned deeply, and was still working out how to leave without drawing attention when Liang Xumo in his arms suddenly seemed to come back to herself.

She gripped his clothes, her voice low, her breathing unsteady. “I’m fine. Let’s go hide in the restroom for now.”

She thought of Qiao Qi. “Oh, right, Qiao—” Suddenly registering the fan standing nearby, she caught herself mid-sentence and pivoted smoothly. “She’s here too. Go let her know.”

Liang Yan agreed, but he was still worried about Liang Xumo, asking with concern in his eyes: “Sis, are you today—”

“I’m fine.” Liang Xumo gave a bitter smile, emphasizing once more that she really was fine, and only then did Liang Yan relax enough to leave.

Once Liang Yan left, Liang Xumo also headed to the restroom. But just as her hand touched the door, she heard voices coming from inside.

“Yeah, right, someone tipped it off anonymously, said something about Qiao Qi and Liang Yan dating at the hospital.”

“Bullsh*t, who dates at a hospital? Probably something shady going on.”

“I know, that’s why I snuck up here, isn’t it? There’s a whole crowd downstairs lugging cameras around — no way I wasn’t going to get blocked.”

“Got it, got it, I’ll hang up for now, tell you once I get the shot.”

Through it all, Liang Xumo said nothing. She stood quietly by the door, staring fixedly at the door handle, her gaze looking steady, and yet somehow also adrift.

It wasn’t until her own phone began ringing that she snapped back to attention, and instinctively pushed the restroom door open.

The restroom had stalls. Liang Xumo swept a casual glance around before answering the call.

It was Cheng Yueming.

“Hello.” Liang Xumo’s voice had already returned to its usual calm. She set her bag gently down on the sink counter. “What’s up?”

Cheng Yueming asked where she was. Liang Xumo gave an “Oh,” and said evenly, “Qiao Qi’s at the hospital visiting a child, I came along too. What’s going on?”

Nothing urgent from Cheng Yueming’s end — she’d just realized it was rare for them all to be in Hu City at the same time and thought they might grab a meal together. On hearing this, she dropped the meal plan without further mention, just reminding them to stay safe, and asked Liang Xumo to pass along her wishes for Maiya’s speedy recovery.

Liang Xumo agreed.

The two of them hung up. Liang Xumo carried her bag into a restroom stall. The door hadn’t quite shut, leaving a narrow gap, through which she saw someone step out of the next stall over and slip quietly out of the restroom.

The door closed again, sealing the restroom into a fully enclosed space.

Standing there, Liang Xumo suddenly felt suffocated. She yanked the door open, strode over to the sink, and turned on the tap. Water gushed out, the sound strangely piercing.

Liang Xumo’s hands were trembling, her legs going weak beneath her — she could barely stand, and could only press both hands hard against the counter.

Water splashed out, pooling across the surface, soaking her hands.

The water felt like some poison that could corrode a person’s very heart.

Every nerve in her fingertips connected straight to her heart.

Liang Xumo stared at it unblinking, and after a few seconds, began scrubbing her hands, almost frantic.

No.

No, I can’t.

I cannot let myself turn bad again.

But…

What had she even done wrong this time?

She hadn’t turned bad. It was the world that had wronged her.

It was those people forcing her hand.

The water grew colder and colder, and so did she.

After a long while, Liang Xumo slowly lifted her head, her heart seeming to settle. She stopped trembling, stopped panicking, and looked at herself in the mirror.

Still the same fair, delicate face. She’d never worn heavy makeup — always kept to a clean, understated look.

When she smiled, the corners of her mouth curved just right. Her eyes always carried that same gentle warmth.

She was the kindest person in the world.

…And yet, kind as she was—

why did the past keep coming back to torment her?

She’d finally managed to build the life she wanted. She was nearly thirty now, and she had never once wanted to depend on any man to live.

She only wanted to stay settled at the Liang household, managing the Liang Corporation. After all… after all, it wasn’t as though Liang Yan would ever come back to compete with her for it.

Because she doted on him so much. Spoiled him so much.

She was so good to him — how could he possibly try to take anything from her?

Besides, he wouldn’t dare.

As for what had just happened… Liang Xumo’s nails dug into her palm, and only when the pain hit did she gently loosen her grip, washing her hands clean bit by bit.

Dried them off.

Fixed her hair, picked up her bag, and walked out of the restroom as though nothing had happened.

As for what had just happened —

she’d simply told the truth.

She really had come to see a child.

As for how that person chose to interpret the word “child” — that was no longer any concern of hers.

—

In Tong Shuqu’s office, Qiao Qi and Liang Yan each sat off to the side, while Tong Shuqu himself was not in the room.

The room was silent.

After everything that had just happened, a subtle layer of awkwardness now hung in the air between the two of them.

Qiao Qi didn’t pry, instead picking up her phone as a distraction.

But who could she even go to for distraction, really?

Liang Yan was Li’ang.

She’d have to make more of an effort to interact with Liang Yan under the identity of “Qiao Qi” too. With that thought, Qiao Qi gripped her phone, hesitating, throat working, and finally managed to force out a question: “So… your sister, she…”

Qiao Qi noticed Liang Yan’s hand, which had been idly flipping his phone over and over, suddenly go still.

She paused slightly, then added, “I’m just asking out of curiosity, nothing else meant by it — if it’s not comfortable to talk about, that’s fine too—”

“She went through some things that weren’t very good.” Liang Yan’s voice was low.

As he spoke, he sat hunched forward, elbows pressed against his knees, body leaning in, gaze somewhat distant.

From Qiao Qi’s angle, she could see his thick, curled lashes flickering slightly.

A rather telling sign of unease.

Just as Qiao Qi was considering how best to comfort him, Liang Yan suddenly turned his head. His eyes were a deep black, harboring some emotion she couldn’t read.

He said, “It was because of me.”

Qiao Qi went silent, and after a long while managed only three words: “Oh… I see.”

Qiao Qi’s reaction was about what he’d expected — anyone else might have tried to console him or talk him through it, but not Qiao Qi.

Liang Yan found it faintly amusing, though he couldn’t quite manage to laugh, only twisting the corner of his mouth into an unattractive shape.

Watching this, Qiao Qi felt a pang of discomfort. She frowned. “Stop that.”

“Should I cry instead, then?” Liang Yan gave her a sidelong glance.

Qiao Qi genuinely considered it for a moment. “That’s not out of the question either.”

Liang Yan let out a short laugh, slowly straightening up, stretching lazily. “Guess it really isn’t out of the question.”

Hearing this, Qiao Qi looked over at him, meeting his eyes, which had once again taken on a faint smile.

“Though, crying in front of you — never mind that. I’m worried my girlfriend would get mad if she found out later.”

As he said this, he walked toward the door, probably to check whether Liang Xumo had come back yet.

But as he passed by Qiao Qi, she couldn’t help reaching out and grabbing hold of Liang Yan’s wrist.

Liang Yan paused, stopping in his tracks.

He didn’t pull away, only turned his head calmly, his gaze dropping to his own wrist, and then lightly raised an eyebrow.

An extremely subtle motion.

Yet it sent Qiao Qi’s heart pounding.

She tilted her head back slightly, not quite daring to look Liang Yan directly in the eye. “Actually, I…”

The office door was suddenly pushed open.

Qiao Qi startled, turning toward the doorway.

There stood Liang Xumo and Tong Shuqu, neither of whom had apparently expected to walk in on this particular scene either, and both froze in the doorway for a moment.

Qiao Qi opened her mouth, wanting to explain, but had no idea where to even start.

Her mouth opened and closed, but in the end not a single word came out.

She quietly released Liang Yan’s wrist.

Liang Yan gave Qiao Qi one long, deep look, and — rare for him — said nothing that would break the mood or feel out of place. Instead, he acted as though nothing had happened, turning to Liang Xumo and Tong Shuqu. “Anything happen outside?”

“Nothing so far,” Tong Shuqu said.

Liang Yan gave a “Mn.” “I had my assistant bring over hats and masks — let’s put them on and take the staff freight elevator down in a bit. He’s waiting for us in the parking lot.”

“Okay.” Liang Xumo glanced at Qiao Qi, then asked her, “Should we all leave together?”

Liang Yan turned to look at Qiao Qi too, leaving the choice to her.

Qiao Qi, head down, was picking at her fingers, not looking at either Liang Yan or Liang Xumo. It was only when Tong Shuqu called her name that she lifted her head half a beat late. “Huh? What?”

Liang Yan, meeting her blank, distracted gaze, was reminded of her slightly odd behavior earlier, and belatedly a thought surged up in his mind.

Holy sht.*

Was she just about to confess her feelings?

Without a second thought, Liang Yan bolted.

…Bolted.

Once Liang Yan had fully geared up and left with Liang Xumo, Tong Shuqu sat down in the seat Liang Yan had just vacated. “What were you two talking about just now? Why’d he take off so fast?”

Qiao Qi frowned. “You’re saying… he ran just now?”

“Mn… I think so?” Tong Shuqu said. “Looked pretty urgent about it?”

“…”

For the first time in her life, Qiao Qi had nearly made what could have been mistaken for a confession, and she promptly shut down entirely.

After shutting down, she opened her phone and blocked “Li’ang.”

Right after blocking him, a Weibo notification popped up: Qiao Qi suspected of unmarried pregnancy, suspected father of child is Liang Yan.

Qiao Qi: “………….”

Tong Shuqu had no idea why Qiao Qi’s expression had suddenly turned so sour. He leaned over to glance at her phone and saw the news too.

Equally speechless.

“Do… celebrities always deal with this kind of thing?”

“With what kind of thing,” Qiao Qi said, tone flat.

“Getting fabricated stories and rumors made up about them?”

“Guess so.” Qiao Qi gave a cold laugh.

At least she did.

A new fabrication every three days, a new rumor every two — endless.

“So… can you just respond directly?”

“Respond how?” Qiao Qi said, exasperated. “Deny I’m not unmarried and pregnant, or deny the father isn’t Liang Yan?”

The moment she finished speaking, another Weibo notification popped up.

[Someone you follow, @LiangYan, just posted a new Weibo update]

With mixed feelings, Qiao Qi tapped it open and saw that Liang Yan had posted just a minute earlier.

@LiangYanV: You people are unwell. How would two bros have a kid together? Incest much?

Top comment: Um, actually. That’s called “German pediatrics.”

Tong Shuqu said, “He’s pretty impressive, denying everything in one shot like that.”

Qiao Qi turned off her phone, smiling faintly. “Mn. Very impressive.”

Author’s Note: Sigh. Work’s been so busy. Weekend’s the day after tomorrow, double update tomorrow night! Will try to update a lot over the weekend too!! 20 red packets, come pamper me!