Recently, because of a particular arc, the entire Second Unit of Secret Key had been in a neighboring city.

— The filming content involved a factory whose non-compliance had caused food to spoil, which in turn led to a killer using someone else’s hand to commit murder.

Hu City had no matching factory, so Cheng Yuzhi simply moved the entire Second Unit — staff and cast, top to bottom — to the neighboring city. Frankly speaking, this kind of move was hugely time-consuming, labor-intensive, and expensive; most directors would never do it.

But somehow, coming from Cheng Yuzhi, it seemed only natural.

As an actress, Qiao Qi naturally had to follow the crew, and she herself was more than willing — after all, she’d known about this factory from the very start.

The factory’s address was very close to Mingtian.

Which made sense — in this sprawling city, it was really only near Mingtian that several factories stood clustered together.

In the show, Qiao Qi’s character understood nothing yet stubbornly clung to Liang Yan’s side. Liang Yan, playing a police officer, couldn’t very well lay a hand on her.

Especially since Qiao Qi’s character was a woman.

So the two of them wandered the factory floor round and round, looking, on the surface, deeply immersed in their roles — while secretly sneaking quite a lot of candy on the side.

And every time, it was Liang Yan who dug it out, finding a corner where no one could see and slipping it into Qiao Qi’s hand, then, task complete, raising his eyebrows at her as if expecting credit.

Qiao Qi wanted to throw this man clean out of the factory.

Liang Yan, seeing her displeasure written all over her face, deliberately bumped her shoulder, teasing, “Hey, have you ever seen these assembly-line candy machines? Doesn’t seeing them make you not want to eat candy anymore?”

Qiao Qi heard this and lowered her head, her fingers landing on the cold sheet-metal machinery in the workshop. She ran her hand back and forth over it several times, something rippling in her eyes, and after a good while said, “I haven’t just seen them — I’ve used them.”

Liang Yan thought he’d misheard. “What?”

Qiao Qi didn’t want to say more and replied flatly, “Nothing.”

—

Once filming wrapped for the day, it wasn’t too late.

This place wasn’t as cold as Hu City — Hu City had a damp cold, while here it was a dry cold, and the whole city had central heating.

Qiao Qi felt as though she’d returned to a place that belonged to her; she’d been in high spirits all day.

The moment the crew wrapped, she threw on her coat and headed out.

Clearly not in the direction of the hotel.

Liang Yan noticed. He paid no mind to Lin Chu and Cheng Yueming, who were standing nearby pretending not to know each other, except for one long look he gave Lin Chu before leaving. Lin Chu, apparently guilty of something, didn’t quite dare meet Liang Yan’s eyes and instead got up and headed toward the hotel.

Liang Yan watched Cheng Yueming heading out and stopped her in time. “You have something on?”

Cheng Yueming, in a hurry, nodded. “Yeah, Jia Xiayue’s in town. We’re going shopping tonight.”

Liang Yan didn’t register it at first. “Who’s Jia Xiayue?”

Cheng Yueming was used to this by now. She said coldly, “Wu Shuang.”

Liang Yan let out an “Oh,” only then remembering that Wu Shuang’s real name off-screen was Jia Xiayue.

Fine.

As long as it wasn’t Lin Chu she was mixed up with.

So Liang Yan set his mind at ease without further thought and strode off after Qiao Qi with his long legs.

Qiao Qi hadn’t expected Liang Yan to follow — no sooner had she gotten in the car than the passenger door opened and shut.

— And there sat Young Master Liang himself, already dutifully buckled into his seatbelt, sitting up perfectly straight in the passenger seat.

Not only that — when Qiao Qi turned to him, dumbfounded, he tilted his chin at her with an air of complete entitlement and reminded her, “Remember to buckle your seatbelt.”

Qiao Qi: “?”

Weren’t the two of them together twenty-four hours a day — well, eighteen hours a day — already? When had he secretly trained in the art of shamelessness? And made such rapid progress at it?

“What are you doing?” Qiao Qi asked.

“What are you doing?” Liang Yan echoed back.

Qiao Qi, deadpan, repeated, “I’m the one asking right now.”

“Oh. Following you.” Liang Yan continued, with the expression of someone who’d given a perfectly reasonable answer, “And you?”

…Am I actually doing a proper Q-and-A with you right now?!

But Qiao Qi knew this man couldn’t be shooed away, because he was like a plaster stuck to your skin — impossible to peel off.

So Qiao Qi gave up on herself too. She unbuckled her seatbelt, pushed the door open, got out, walked around the front of the car to the passenger side, and opened the door.

— Taking advantage of the fact that Liang Yan was seated while she stood, she could finally look down on him with full righteous authority. She stared at the question mark on his face, expressionless. “Get out.”

Liang Yan thought she meant to force him out bodily and immediately curled up, gripping his seatbelt tight, tossing back two words at Qiao Qi: “I won’t.”

Very willful.

Very rebellious.

Very full of himself.

Qiao Qi’s gaze swept once over him, utterly devoid of any top-idol dignity in this moment, then she slowly pulled out her phone.

She switched to camera mode and started recording.

Only then did Liang Yan catch on. He narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Filming you,” Qiao Qi said, unbothered.

Liang Yan’s eyes narrowed further at that. He was no longer in that pose from a moment ago, guarding himself like some virtuous man fearing violation — instead he looked straight into the lens, without a trace of shying away.

“That’s what you’re filming?” Liang Yan gave a light laugh. “What’s the point of filming that — let me give you something worth filming.”

As he spoke, he winked lightly at the camera, then unhurriedly lifted a hand and brushed it across his own lips, and it seemed poised to travel further down…

The man’s fingers were long and slender; he wore a black coat that made his skin look even colder and paler, and in the camera it looked all the more striking and vivid.

That finger traced from his lips down to his chin, finally resting at his jaw, curling slightly, as if he might tug open the collar of his turtleneck to reveal that most masculine of features, his throat…

“……”

Qiao Qi hadn’t really intended to film anything serious — she’d only meant to tease him.

But she truly hadn’t expected this man could be… so shameless.

It was bitterly cold out, and night had fully fallen, wrapping around Qiao Qi like a protective layer.

It also concealed her ears, flushed a bright, telltale red.

But Young Master Liang had sharp eyes, and with the car’s interior light on, the glow fell on Qiao Qi’s face — from Liang Yan’s angle, he could see exactly the dyed color of her earlobe.

He curled his lips into a smile, released his hand, and slowly leaned his whole body forward.

— No telling when he’d undone his seatbelt. A tall man like him sitting in the car actually looked a bit cramped, but somehow he’d found just the right, precise, tricky angle that let him lean back slightly and look at Qiao Qi’s eyes with a smiling pair of peach-blossom eyes.

Then, while she was still holding up the phone recording, he reached out, pulled Qiao Qi down so she bent at the waist, and offered up his own ear, positioned perfectly for Liang Yan’s hand to pinch.

“Go ahead and film. Why are your ears so red?”

The man’s voice was low, roughened slightly by the night wind, giving it a faintly magnetic texture.

It brushed past the shell of her ear, and it made a person’s heart stop, involuntarily, for one beat.

Qiao Qi froze, feeling as though it wasn’t her earlobe that had just been pinched, but rather some vital pressure point of hers.

Strange, really.

It was the dead of winter, and he wasn’t even wearing that much — so why was his hand so hot?

…Like a flame burning at his fingertip.

Qiao Qi just stayed frozen like that, unsure whether to look at the man on her phone screen.

Or the man right in front of her.

Until the man gave a short, low laugh, and Qiao Qi, drawn in by the sound, found her gaze instinctively meeting the real face beyond the lens.

Only then did she realize… just how close they actually were.

As if their very breaths were entangled.

Liang Yan had meant to mock Qiao Qi for having the nerve to tease him but not the guts to take it further — but instead, the woman lightly lifted her gaze, and the flutter of her lashes brushed against his heart like a feather.

Caught off guard, Liang Yan couldn’t keep up the act anymore.

One of them was in the car, the other outside it.

One of them, forced to bend at the waist, had also had her earlobe caught.

Beneath the night sky, they looked into each other’s eyes.

It seemed as though they could each hear the other’s heartbeat.

…And it seemed, too, that neither could resist the urge to do something more.

Several seconds passed before Liang Yan let his gaze settle on Qiao Qi’s lips.

He stared, his Adam’s apple moving instinctively.

A predator’s gleam hidden in his eyes, the light of a beast stalking its prey.

Qiao Qi felt like a lamb suddenly pinned to the ground, hands and feet caught, without even the strength left to struggle.

…But she had to struggle a little, still.

Just as she thought to tilt her head back, the man’s hand — which had been pinching her earlobe — suddenly moved to the back of her neck.

Now she really was caught.

As if some part of her had sensed what was coming, Qiao Qi’s eyes widened slightly. She let out an “Eh?” and before she could say anything more, the next instant the man pressed her forward, and she was forced to stumble a step closer, half her body nearly pulled into the car.

And then she was kissed.

On the forehead.

The man’s lips were as hot as his fingers had been. Taking advantage of his positioning, he easily pressed a kiss to her forehead.

His breath fell over her eyes; her lashes trembled, and finally she chose to close her eyes.

She didn’t stop the man’s action.

Nor did she push him away and slap him and call him a pervert.

Instead, quietly, silently, tacitly, she accepted the small, carefully-offered gesture of adoration and appeasement he’d presented to her.

Like a wolf — its eyes gleaming green, having come on fiercely, having successfully pinned the little lamb beneath it — but not devouring it in one bite.

Instead, it stuck out its tongue and slowly licked its prey once.

And after licking, said, hoarsely, “Sorry. Couldn’t hold back.”

Qiao Qi: “……”

Oh, so what was she supposed to say to that?

It’s fine?

Welcome back anytime?

…That was obviously never going to happen.

But she truly didn’t know what to say either, so she could only awkwardly and stiffly wriggle free, pretending she’d escaped Liang Yan’s hold entirely by her own effort.

Rather than because Liang Yan had let go of his own accord.

And, incidentally, taken her phone with him.

Qiao Qi pretended her attention had been dragged elsewhere. “What are you doing with my phone?”

Liang Yan knew Qiao Qi was embarrassed — he was a bit embarrassed himself, honestly — and the two of them couldn’t just stand there like fools, so he found something else to do.

Then the two of them, by unspoken agreement, let the whole thing pass.

Pretended it had never happened.

“Saving the evidence for you.” Liang Yan tapped a few times to save the video, admired himself in it for a few seconds to confirm he looked handsome enough, then handed the phone back to Qiao Qi.

As Qiao Qi took the phone, the two of them inevitably met eyes again.

The air seemed to freeze for a moment. Liang Yan spoke up immediately to break the awkwardness. “What’d you come over here for?”

“You drive,” Qiao Qi said quickly. “I’m tired. I want to sleep.”

Oh.

Having already taken advantage of her, the least he could do was grant this wish.

So Liang Yan got out briskly and walked around to the driver’s seat.

Once he was settled in, he found that Qiao Qi in the passenger seat had, in order to avoid the awkwardness, already turned to face the window and quietly gone to sleep.

Liang Yan: “……”

Unwilling to break the stalemate, Liang Yan chose to drive on in silence. After a few minutes, from the passenger seat beside him finally came Qiao Qi’s faint voice.

“Do you even know where you’re going? You’re just driving.”

“I don’t,” Liang Yan answered honestly. “Wasn’t I worried about disturbing your sleep?”

Qiao Qi: “I wasn’t even asleep.”

Liang Yan: “Oh.”

Qiao Qi: “……”

Liang Yan: “……”

Right.

Even more awkward now.

—

The two of them, each in their own murky mood, set off on the road toward the Mingtian Orphanage.

It was only about a ten-minute drive from the factory to the orphanage; at night, with few people around, the road went smoothly.

Qiao Qi had originally turned her back to Liang Yan just to avoid the awkwardness, but now, watching the scenery endlessly reeling past the window, she realized, in a daze:

This was the first time she’d ever brought someone from her own life to the orphanage.

From late spring to deep winter.

Across four seasons, Liang Yan had, without her quite realizing it, fully entered her world.

And, it seemed, it was she who had taken the initiative to open that door.

Though she’d never actually said those four words out loud, all her tacit acceptance could be understood as: she was welcoming him.

Welcoming him into her world.

Just as, once, he had opened his door to her…

Qiao Qi suddenly paused.

No, wait — back when he’d opened his door to her, she had still been Qiao Qi, not “7.”

In an instant, all the girlish fluttering and heartache in her chest came to a halt. She turned to look at her chauffeur, Liang, and asked, with no ambiguity at all, “Back at the hospital rooftop, when we were drinking — why did you suddenly start telling me about your own life?”

Liang Yan turned his head at her words, glancing at her. He seemed to understand exactly what she was really asking, and smiled. “Because by then I already knew you were 7.”

Qiao Qi paused.

Just then, the car arrived at its destination. Liang Yan parked, undid his own seatbelt first, then leaned forward to undo Qiao Qi’s.

At the same time, he said quietly, “So it’s perfect timing — you’re bringing me to your home now.”

Because now we already know who each other truly is.

Qiao Qi looked up at him.

He lifted his gaze too, a faint smile rising in his eyes.

You see.

This man had always been clever.

—

Qiao Qi and Liang Yan got out of the car one after the other. It was late at night, and hard to see much, but by the courtesy of the headlights, Liang Yan could tell the orphanage didn’t look like the fenced-in kind you’d see on TV dramas.

From the outside, it looked like an ordinary two-story house — if anything, it looked more like a kindergarten.

The gate, at least, really was an iron gate. Qiao Qi walked ahead, carefully pressing her ear to the gap in the door as if listening for something, and couldn’t help curling her lips into a smile.

Liang Yan, itching with curiosity, went over and pressed his ear to the door the same way, but couldn’t make out anything. He asked quietly, “Does your family not like outsiders?”

He’d used the words “your family” and “home.”

Qiao Qi went “Hm?” “What do you mean, not like outsiders?”

Liang Yan said, “How come I can’t hear anything fun going on?”

Qiao Qi: “……Listen more carefully.”

Liang Yan really was about to press his ear to the door again.

Qiao Qi laughed. “Never mind, it’s nothing — just heard a cat meowing.”

Liang Yan raised an eyebrow. “Your family keeps cats too?”

“We keep a dog too,” Qiao Qi said, pulling out her key to open the gate, and before pushing it open, she gave Liang Yan a meaningful look. “Specializes in biting strangers.”

“I’m not a stranger,” Liang Yan said. “I’m family.”

Qiao Qi: “……Just be quiet.”

Bickering back and forth, the two of them pushed the gate open, walked into the courtyard, and closed it behind them. Before Qiao Qi could reach over to switch on the courtyard light, a shadow shot past in the corner of her eye — “whoosh—”

Then Qiao Qi felt someone step up behind her and wrap their arms around her waist.

“Hiss……” Liang Yan stared at that pair of eyes glinting red in the corner of the yard. “You really do have a dog!”

As he spoke, he tightened his hold on Qiao Qi’s waist as if he were genuinely terrified.

Qiao Qi: “……”

Expressionless, she called Liang Yan’s name in an utterly deadpan tone.

“Liang Yan.”

“Yeah?”

Behind her, Liang Yan practically had his chin buried in her shoulder — and who exactly was scared in such a shameless way?

Qiao Qi said, “Don’t pretend. I know you used to have a dog.”

Liang Yan: “?”

Qiao Qi: “Later, because the dog liked Zhou Jiaye better than you, you gave it to Zhou Jiaye.”

“You know about that too?” Liang Yan let go of Qiao Qi as if nothing had happened, no longer looking scared at all. “You really do pay a lot of attention to me.”

Qiao Qi: “……I’m going to go let Cream Puff loose and have it bite you.”

Liang Yan: “A dog named Cream Puff. No ambition at all.”

Qiao Qi: “What’s the name of the dog that didn’t like you?”

Liang Yan: “……Cheese.”

Qiao Qi: “Oh. Real ambitious.”

“……” Liang Yan squirmed a little. “That wasn’t its original name. Zhou Jiaye changed it.”

“What was it originally?”

Liang Yan fell silent.

Qiao Qi went “Hm?” and turned to look at him.

Just then, the courtyard light Qiao Qi had casually flicked on spilled a warm yellow glow across the yard. Qiao Qi happened to be standing right under the light; her profile turned toward him, her eyes filled with the glow.

Liang Yan hadn’t really meant to say it, but looking at her eyes, he paused and said, “Bandit.”

Qiao Qi couldn’t hold back a burst of laughter, the light catching at the corners of her eyes.

“Serves you right for it not liking you.”

Liang Yan, looking at the light in the corners of her eyes, gave a low “Mm,” “So I gave it to him.”

For once, he didn’t fire back with a retort.

Didn’t argue with her.

Her smiling like that was nice.

Quite lovely to look at.

He wanted to kiss her.

Tch.

With mischief in his heart, Liang Yan’s eyes stayed fixed on Qiao Qi’s face — but before he could let his thoughts show any further, Cream Puff spoke up.

“Woof woof woof——!”

“Woof woof woof woof woof woof——!”

Couldn’t understand a word of it.

But it was strangely frightening.

Liang Yan, remembering Qiao Qi had just said this friend didn’t like strangers, thought it over for a moment on the spot, then still chose to duck behind Qiao Qi.

Qiao Qi turned back, bewildered, meeting Liang Yan’s eyes, and heard him say, “I’m genuinely scared.”

Qiao Qi: “……You didn’t even let it off the leash.”

Liang Yan, perfectly righteous, said, “Still scary.”

Then he lowered his head and grabbed the hem of Qiao Qi’s coat.

Qiao Qi eyed him suspiciously, and once she’d confirmed he really was scared and not just trying to take advantage of her, she let Liang Yan pull her along, leading him toward the main hall.

—

In the years since Qiao Qi had grown up, the orphanage had sent off quite a few children, and with society developing better than before, there weren’t many children left here now.

The second floor held the dormitories; at this hour, everyone should already be asleep up there.

The door to the main hall was closed too, light spilling from the crack beneath it.

Director Lu was still awake.

Qiao Qi and Liang Yan walked over and knocked on the door.

Director Lu, likely assuming it was one of the children, hurried over to open it, and upon seeing it was Qiao Qi, let out a surprised, delighted “Ah!” “What are you doing here? Oh, come in, come in quickly, it’s freezing out there.”

Qiao Qi went in smiling, and in passing, pulled her little tagalong shadow out from behind her.

Liang the tail, once pulled forward, pouted a little regretfully, then stepped in and politely greeted Director Lu.

Like someone trying to charm his future mother-in-law’s family.

Director Lu hadn’t expected Liang Yan to come at all. She froze for a moment, then smiled, a touch stiffly. “Mr. Liang’s here too.”

Liang Yan didn’t think much of it, assuming Director Lu was simply surprised.

He smiled, said “Mm,” and didn’t intrude too much on Director Lu and Qiao Qi’s conversation.

Qiao Qi didn’t come back to Mingtian often, though not rarely either, so there wasn’t an overwhelming amount to catch up on with Director Lu.

It was as if she worked nearby and had just dropped in on her way.

As they talked, Director Lu said, “Maiya came back this afternoon and mentioned you were busy — what a coincidence that you happen to be working out this way.”

Qiao Qi froze. “What? Maiya came back today?”

Director Lu froze too. “You didn’t know?”

Qiao Qi said, “No, I didn’t. Why did she come back? Who brought her back?”

Such a big thing — why hadn’t anyone told her?

“Dr. Tong brought her back. She was only here a short while, left after lunch. I assumed you’d arranged it,” Director Lu said, not thinking much of it. “Maybe she just missed home. Probably didn’t want to bother you at work, so she didn’t tell you.”

“I see……” was that it?

Was it really just that?

All the way until she left Mingtian, Qiao Qi’s mind was still full of doubts.

Somehow, she couldn’t shake a sense of unease, as if something were about to happen.

Distracted, she got back into the car; Liang Yan followed her in. Just then Director Lu suddenly called out, saying she wanted to give Qiao Qi some homemade fermented tofu she’d made.

Liang Yan, not willing to let Director Lu run back out in such cold weather, turned and went back inside with her instead.

When he came back out, the car was facing the gate head-on, headlights blazing, lighting up the whole entrance.

Liang Yan put the fermented tofu in the trunk, then hopped into the car, and as he glanced up, got a clear look at the whole gate.

Suddenly, an image flashed before his eyes.

Liang Yan instinctively gripped the steering wheel tight, as though he’d caught a glimpse of a scene from over a decade ago.

Wait.

This place was……

Liang Yan froze.

At the very same moment, Director Lu, still rummaging through her office for something else, accidentally knocked into a stack of books on the desk. The books hit the floor with a loud thud.

Startled, she quickly bent to pick them up — and it was in bending down that she noticed the third drawer on the far left of the desk bore two small marks, like fingerprint smudges.

This desk was many years old, coated in who-knew-how-much dust. She was usually too busy to attend to corners like this.

Besides, this third drawer was where she kept the old Director’s belongings.

But that fingerprint clearly wasn’t hers.

Whose was it, then?

Director Lu touched the notebook on the floor, her gaze shifting, and then she noticed a sheet of paper nearby with a child’s footprint pressed into it.

Puzzled, she picked up the paper, examining the footprint carefully, comparing the size — and found that the only person it could possibly match was… Maiya, who had visited today!

Something clicked in Director Lu’s mind; her heart gave a violent jolt. Her hands trembling, she dropped the paper, and half-knelt on the floor, fumbling to yank the drawer open——

It was gone!

The diary was gone!

Had Maiya taken it?

What did she want with it?

What was in there that she wanted to know……Director Lu’s eyes suddenly went wide.

Qiao Qi!

Without a moment’s hesitation, Director Lu scrambled out of the office, half-running, half-stumbling, straight for the gate. Catching sight of the light spilling through the gap in the gate, she knew they hadn’t left yet.

She called out, “Qiao Qi!”

In the yard, Cream Puff answered with its own bark: “Woof woof woof——!”

The once-quiet night was suddenly torn open, and the air itself seemed to drop in temperature all at once.

This winter, this night — everyone was on their way toward the truth.

Author’s note: The sweetness earlier was on purpose, hah.

High-intensity warning:

What follows contains content some readers may find disturbing!

What follows contains content some readers may find disturbing!

What follows contains content some readers may find disturbing!

It will be flagged in the content summary when the time comes!

It will be flagged in the content summary when the time comes!

It will be flagged in the content summary when the time comes!

Please purchase selectively!

Please purchase selectively!

Please purchase selectively!

I’ve done what I can.

This is as much warning as I can give.

It’s what the plot calls for.

If you buy it, read it, and end up unhappy about it, please don’t blame me.

If you’re going to drop the story, please do it quietly. [doge]