Liangou: I mean, you could stab me, but before I die, I’d like to go out with my eyes closed in peace.

Qiao Qi couldn’t help but laugh.

Qi: No peace for you, step aside.

Liangou: Now I get it.

Liangou: I always thought you were just talking, turns out you meant it.

Liangou: [wiping tears with handkerchief.jpg]

Qiao Qi didn’t follow.

Qi: ?

Liangou: [Image]

Qiao Qi tapped it open and saw it was the message she’d sent him earlier that afternoon.

About making money to keep a little brother as her kept man.

Qiao Qi bit back a laugh, playing dumb on purpose.

Qi: What about it?

Liangou: So you really do have another dog on the side [pitiful face.jpg]

Qi: Don’t be ridiculous, he’s a little brother, not a dog.

Liangou: ???

Liangou: Someone else gets to be “little brother” and I’m the dog?

Liangou: I’m mad, woof woof woof!!

Qiao Qi pictured him going “woof woof woof” and couldn’t hold back a laugh that burst out of her.

Whatever gloom had settled over her earlier vanished instantly.

Qi: [hahahahahahaha.jpg]

Liangou: Oh, finally laughing?

Liangou: Not mad anymore?

Qiao Qi’s smile faltered for a second before deepening even further in her eyes and at the corners of her mouth.

She sent back a sticker of a little girl grinning foolishly.

Liangou: Alright then, laughing’s good enough.

Liangou: Guess I managed to escape Your Majesty’s executioner’s blade through my own skill.

Qi: Mmhm, you’re so amazing.

Liangou: Tch.

Liangou: You’re humoring me.

Qi: Nope, you’re just the fattest der~

Qi: [wild applause.jpg]

Liangou: This humble concubine is 184cm and 67kg—hardly worthy of the title “fattest der~”

To an ordinary person, those numbers would probably read as far too thin—but given Qiao Qi’s line of work, seeing those figures immediately conjured a face made for the camera.

Perfect numbers for being photographed. But for an ordinary occupation…

Qiao Qi frowned. That really was too thin.

Her fingers hovered over the screen, unsure how to bring it up.

After all, in over two years of knowing each other, they’d never once touched on real, three-dimensional details like this.

Yet tonight, for some reason, they kept brushing right up against that line.

And he didn’t seem to mind, either.

Did that mean it’d be fine to ask a question or two?

She mulled it over. A little over a minute passed.

Li’ang, apparently confused by the lack of reply, sent another question mark.

Liangou: ?

Liangou: What’s up with you tonight?

Liangou: That busy? Burning the midnight oil?

A hint of sarcasm.

Qiao Qi quickly explained.

Qi: No.

Qi: Just imagining exactly how thin you are.

Qi: And trying to figure out how to politely ask “why are you so thin? Is someone mistreating you?”

Liangou: Not really.

Liangou: Been missing Your Majesty something fierce lately, lost my appetite.

Dodging the question—so there was something he was still holding back.

Qiao Qi couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed, but not wanting him to overthink it, she replied with a joke instead.

Qi: Have little Li’ang cook you some tonic soup then.

Liangou: ?

Liangou: Why are you suddenly teasing him like that?

Liangou: Rude!

Qiao Qi looked utterly innocent.

Qi: ?

Liangou: Little Li’ang could never do such things!

Qi: ………………?

Qi: Have you perhaps seen a red exclamation mark before?

Liangou: ……Seen it, seen it, seen it! Your Majesty need not lecture this concubine further!

Liangou: I really have seen it!

Liangou: I’m sorry! Won’t happen again!

Qiao Qi finally let him off the hook, and the conversation naturally shifted to the money-making event of the night.

Liangou: How’d tonight go? Smoothly?

Qiao Qi actually wanted to tell him about tonight’s “blessing in disguise” turn of events, but wasn’t sure where to start.

In the end she just replied simply: pretty okay, I guess.

Liangou: That’s it?

Qiao Qi felt an inexplicable flash of irritation.

Qi: What else is there to say?

The other side went quiet for a noticeably long moment, the “typing…” label appearing at the top of the chat again.

A few dozen seconds later, a short, plain message finally came through.

Liangou: What actually happened to you tonight?

Qiao Qi’s eyes suddenly welled up without warning.

A wave of soreness and grievance surged up from somewhere inside her, her nose flushing red in an instant, her throat tightening as if choked.

She swallowed hard, twice, feeling her heart ache.

It was nearly eleven now, the sky outside pitch black through the window.

Only scattered points of light flickered, faint and fragile.

Qiao Qi stared for a while, her vision gradually blurring.

When she looked away, her lashes blinked, and a tear dropped onto the phone screen.

It was in that instant that she finally lost her composure.

Ignoring the state of her makeup entirely, she clutched the phone and let the tears fall freely, message after message popping up on the chat.

Liangou: ?

Liangou: Baby?

Liangou: Did that little brat bully you tonight?

Liangou: I’ll go bite him right now!!

Qiao Qi laughed through her tears, wiping them away carelessly with the back of her hand.

Her phone screen was already smeared with tears; she grabbed a tissue and wiped it clean before replying.

Qi: By the time you fly over, my body will already be cold.

Liangou: Ptooey, ptooey.

Liangou: Don’t talk nonsense like that.

Liangou: Did someone really bully you? What happened?

Qi: It’s not something I can explain in a sentence or two.

Though she hadn’t sobbed openly, letting a little out still eased something in her chest.

Qiao Qi let out a long breath, feeling a bit self-conscious in hindsight.

Even though Li’ang couldn’t actually see what had happened to her on this end.

Qi: But I got helped out by a senior in the end.

Qi: Let’s just drop it for now.

After that, Li’ang didn’t reply right away.

Both of them, by unspoken agreement, let the conversation lapse.

Qiao Qi didn’t want to dwell on it further, mainly because he wasn’t even in the country—venting more would only leave both of them feeling helpless and frustrated, with nothing to be done about it.

Of course she wished he could show up beside her again, rain or shine, the way he had two years ago.

But reality didn’t work that way. Not everything could go the way she wanted.

Liangou: What do you do for work?

Qiao Qi paused.

Liangou: I’ve got plenty of friends back home. All kinds of jobs.

The rest went unsaid, but the meaning was clear enough.

Qiao Qi stared at those two short lines for a moment, then smiled.

That was enough.

That alone was enough.

Qi: Told you, it’s fine.

Qi: Really, it’s fine.

Qi: Next time I need something, I’ll definitely come to you.

Liangou: Okay.

After a moment, he asked again.

Liangou: So what do you actually do?

This time Qiao Qi didn’t dodge it, though she wasn’t entirely sure how to categorize her own work.

After a moment’s thought, she answered broadly: media industry, I guess?

Liangou: Ah.

Then, out of nowhere, he asked.

Liangou: Do you follow celebrities?

Qi: ?

Liangou: Media’s close to film and TV, just asking on a whim.

Since he’d framed it as an offhand question, Qiao Qi didn’t think much of it and answered honestly.

Qi: Nope.

Liangou: Not even one?

Qi: Is that strange?

Liangou: ……Ah, no, not strange.

Liangou: Are there any celebrities you recognize, then?

Even though they usually jumped between all kinds of random topics, they really hadn’t touched on the whole fan-following, entertainment-industry subject much before, had they?

What was going on tonight?

Qi: Not really.

Qi: The ones I recognize are mostly just senior people in the industry.

Qi: Why, do you follow celebrities?

The “typing…” indicator appeared again.

Qiao Qi: ?

What was going on tonight, seriously?

Before she could ask, though, Li’ang sent another message.

Liangou: Not really a “follower,” but I’ve heard of him.

Liangou: Liang Yan, do you know him?

Qiao Qi: “……”

Liang Yan? Again? Really?

Why couldn’t she even chat with a friend online without Liang Yan coming up?

What on earth was going on tonight?

Liangou: Do you know him?

For some reason she couldn’t quite pin down, Qiao Qi found herself not wanting Li’ang to have anything to do with that spoiled young master—even though Liang Yan really had helped her out of a bind tonight.

But… did men actually follow celebrities like that?

And follow a male celebrity, no less?

She’d figured men mostly followed sports or esports, or at most a female celebrity if anything.

Following a male celebrity was a whole different matter.

Unless…

Qiao Qi’s heart lurched. Steering clear like avoiding a snake, she quickly denied everything.

Qi: Don’t know, no idea, never met him.

Liangou: ……Okay.

Liangou: I don’t follow him either, just asking on a whim.

Qiao Qi let out a breath of relief and jabbed hard at her phone screen.

Qi: Mhm mhm!

—

Just as the hotel room door heard a knock, Liang Yan had received a “goodnight” from the girl he knew as Xiao Qi.

The room lighting was warm; light fell from above onto the high bridge of his nose.

He leaned lazily against the headboard, expression thoughtful.

At the knock, he startled slightly, set down his phone, and turned to ask: “Who is it?”

“Brother Liang Yan, it’s me.”

It was Cheng Yueming.

Liang Yan pulled his robe closed and got off the bed, pausing on the way to grab the now-empty wine glass off the nightstand and put it back in the fridge.

Then he went to open the door.

“What are you still doing up this late?” Liang Yan leaned sideways against the doorframe, blocking the gap.

He didn’t let Cheng Yueming in—just stood there at the door.

Cheng Yueming had clearly already finished washing up, but had been hungry from working late and gone downstairs to find something to eat.

Passing his door, she’d remembered the script and, after hesitating for a long while, finally worked up the nerve to knock.

She smiled, eyes curving. “Is your schedule tight lately, Brother Liang Yan?”

Liang Yan and Cheng Yueming had known each other since childhood, but weren’t especially close—mostly because Cheng Yueming was so well-behaved, and had spent most of her growing-up years studying abroad.

So in Liang Yan’s eyes, she was just a sweet, sensible little sister.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“That thing, um, my Mansion of Smoke and Clouds—are you interested?” Cheng Yueming asked.

Liang Yan raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say the female lead needed to be settled first?”

It was a female-lead-driven drama, after all.

“Pretty much settled,” Cheng Yueming said. “It’s that Qiao Qi—you met her tonight too.”

Liang Yan had no particular impression of Qiao Qi—he’d only looked up her basic information in passing before sending the email earlier that night.

“Newcomer?”

Cheng Yueming knew full well Qiao Qi was a newcomer, and not even formally trained.

Asking Liang Yan—someone practically one hand away from a Best Actor trophy—to act opposite her was, admittedly, a little nerve-wracking for Cheng Yueming to propose.

“My dad will definitely coach her well,” Cheng Yueming added.

Liang Yan nodded, repeating Qiao Qi’s name as if turning it over in his mind.

“Qiao Qi.”

The two syllables rolled clearly between his teeth.

Cheng Yueming, thinking she had a shot, brightened. “Right!”

Liang Yan’s mouth curved. “Not interested.”

With that, he shut the door in her face without ceremony—bang.

Cheng Yueming: “……”

Author’s Note: Liangou: Guess my fame isn’t quite enough yet, gotta work harder! Qi Qi: Scared me half to death, thought I was about to become a co-wife! Cheng Yueming: Brother Liang Yan, I’ve already pictured you crying in regret. Author: Same here.