Chapter 46

By six in the evening, the rain had lost direction, lashing straight into her face. Song Qingre arrived at the bar, where the heating was already on. She shrugged off her coat, her hair slightly damp.

You Liyin handed her a handkerchief, and she dabbed at her hair a couple of times. You Liyin crossed her legs. "The moment you walk into our bar, the whole place starts smelling different."

Song Qingre sniffed her arm. "Do I stink?"

"I meant the smell of art. Rain wouldn't make you stink."

She smiled. "Why didn't you bring an umbrella? It's pouring—could turn into a downpour any minute."

"And you still made me come out in this?" Song Qingre shot back.

"Rain sets the mood. Besides, would I have called if it weren't important?" You Liyin grinned, her expression sly, as if she had some dubious favor to ask.

"I'm not taking the design job for your bar. Too little pay, too much hassle." Song Qingre wiped her clothes, barely bothering with her hair, then handed the handkerchief back.

"You artists actually care about money?"

"Who'd be an artist if they didn't?"

Song Qingre sat down. "So what did you really need me for?"

You Liyin shook her head helplessly. "The place you designed for my brother last time was a hit. People keep coming by to check it out."

Song Qingre gave a faint smile, knowing where this was going. She checked her phone—almost seven. She texted Yan Qingqiu that she wouldn't be home for dinner tonight.

You Liyin had the bartender send over drinks and asked if she wanted a cocktail or something stronger. Song Qingre asked for something fruity.

You Liyin looked her up and down. "So... you still single?"

Song Qingre interlaced her fingers and rubbed her fingertips together.

"It's because of that last time you came to help—you were too nice to my brother. Now he's got it into his head that he might actually have a chance. He's scheming again, wanting to pursue you. He keeps asking for your number. I've been holding him off because I remember that epic romance Yan Qingqiu wrote, and I figured you two might have something going. But my brother's been driving me up the wall, so I had to ask again."

Song Qingre took a sip. "I have a wife, but I've never seen her face. Does that count as single?"

"That's a tricky question. Is it long-distance? Don't you like Yan Qingqiu? If you've thought it through, why not end the online romance? I could introduce you to my brother. He's been chasing you and stayed single all this time." You Liyin said.

Song Qingre just smiled and clinked her glass against hers.

"God, I can't stand seeing you so devoted and getting hurt over and over," You Liyin said, knocking back one with her.

The bar also served food. She raised a hand to have a waiter bring some over. "This one's on me... I've gone through over ten girlfriends, and you've been pining after the same person for nine years straight."

"Twenty years," Song Qingre corrected her.

The words carried a deep, settled weight. You Liyin couldn't agree with her persistence. Her own first love had been intense, but everything after had been quiet. Love never arrived with much passion, and it never left with much pain. Most of it leaned toward desire, toward releasing loneliness.

"Have you never once thought—not even one day—about liking someone else? Don't you ever get tired?"

"Have you ever thought about growing old alone?" Song Qingre asked in return.

You Liyin shook her head honestly. "Don't you regret it?"

A keyword struck her. Song Qingre's voice dropped slightly. She took a sip. "When she left me, she really loved me. If she came back and couldn't find me, she'd be so sad... I probably never regretted it, but there are things I do regret."

You Liyin clicked her tongue, finding the words strange, but after thinking it over, she understood. "You sound like a total simp. Even worse than the simps I've heard in this bar."

Song Qingre laughed softly, not offended. "Sometimes, when you love someone, you find that being a dog isn't so bad."

You Liyin asked, "I heard from my brother that you had a falling out with Fu Ye. He's apparently trying to infiltrate your art circle, planning to sanction you." She laughed. "Fu Ye's such a bumpkin. A capitalist trying to sanction an artist... His brain's full of cement. They keep outdoing each other in stupidity."

You Liyin shook her head as she spoke. Just then, someone came over to hit on Song Qingre, wanting to be friends. Song Qingre shook her head and said no, but the other person wouldn't give up, saying, "Sis, just add me. I might be able to help you out sometime."

Song Qingre looked at You Liyin. "Why don't you add my friend instead? Learn from her how to be my friend."

The newcomer looked a bit awkward. You Liyin said, "To be her friend, she might not contact you for three or four months. And being her girlfriend is out of the question. She's liked someone for over twenty years, and now she's willingly become a dog."

The girl let out an "ah" and said, "You're that devoted? Now I like you even more." With that, she pulled over a chair and squeezed into their table. "Let me drink a bit with you."

You Liyin didn't mind. She glanced at Song Qingre, and since Song Qingre didn't tell her to leave, thinking pretty girls were never a loss, she said, "Alright, order whatever you want to drink."

"Hey, isn't Ye Sichun nearby? Why don't we call her over to hang out?"

With just the two of them talking about love and romance, things felt a bit constrained. Song Qingre nodded. "Haven't seen her lately. What's she been up to?"

"A friend of mine saw her a few days ago. Apparently she's got a little girl following her around. The girl changes her hairstyle every day..."

"Changes hairstyle?" Song Qingre frowned slightly. You Liyin asked what was wrong. Song Qingre said, "I've got some psychological trauma around hair."

"Your situation's probably different. That girl might have a crush on her, coming to her every day to get her hair done," You Liyin said, texting Ye Sichun. Ye Sichun didn't reply, so she called. Ye Sichun answered and said she'd come over. You Liyin put the phone to Song Qingre's ear. "Here, she's even asking if the girl should come along. So... Ye Sichun's about to fall in love, and you're still single."

Song Qingre smiled. About ten minutes later, they saw Ye Sichun arrive, and she did have a girl with her—but this person didn't quite fit the 'girl' label. It was just that her hairstyle made her look younger, with a smaller face. Her hair was permed into soft curls, fluffy and fuzzy, and she wore a short black wool coat. She looked very obedient.

But when she looked at them, her eyes visibly darkened, and a wave of familiarity hit. You Liyin said:

"Am I going blind, or does she look exactly like Luo Xi?"

Song Qingre squinted too. "It's her."

Ye Sichun had come over with Luo Xi in tow. Luo Xi didn't want to sit at that table, afraid Yan Qingqiu might be there and they'd end up fighting. She sat alone in a corner.

Ye Sichun came over to greet them. "What are you talking about? I caught the tail end as I walked in."

You Liyin didn't want to offend Miss Luo, so she deflected the topic onto Song Qingre. "Asking this hopeless romantic whether liking someone for so many years comes with regrets."

Song Qingre held her glass; the drink was empty.

Regrets?

"Yes," she admitted generously.

Ye Sichun sat down and had the bartender send over a cocktail too. Maybe the rainy night suited the alcohol, because she noticed Song Qingre was talking more than usual today.

Song Qingre took a sip, speaking slowly and unhurriedly, her tone full of regret. "If I could go back to that rainy day when I was eighteen, I'd tell myself: Song Qingre, listen carefully to what she says. Really listen. If you can't hear her, make her sign it to you. Ask her where she's going, ask her where to find her. Don't just wait in vain."

"Do you love her that much?" the girl who'd hit on her asked, listening the most intently. She didn't know the full story, only that Song Qingre's beloved had gone far away and she'd been waiting for her return—or maybe... the person she loved had disappeared. Been trafficked, perhaps?

"I do," Song Qingre said. "I love her so much."

Both of them looked at her with that 'simp' expression, as if saying: If it's this hard, why not love someone else? Love doesn't have to be so stubborn. If you can't wait for this one, then wait for the next.

"When I was young, I had no opinions of my own. She'd say it's fine—'As long as Little Re likes me.' When my parents died, she climbed over the wall, sat on the corridor every night, and piled coins outside my door. She'd always been a big spender, but she started saving, saying it was easy to support me. She'd work to earn money to raise me. She said, 'Little Re, just be a happy artist. I'll go work and support you. You just need to be happy.' For a while, before the college entrance exams, she had terrible headaches every day, but she still insisted on writing my name, and even slept hugging my photo. Back then, I didn't understand why... One day, I went to her house to tidy up and found a little notebook. It was full of my name, and on the last page, she'd written three words: 'I love you.'"

"You can't meet someone so dazzling when you're young," the girl commented.

Song Qingre smiled. "You should meet them. She might not have the best personality—there aren't many people who think well of her—but I know she's the one who loved me most. Sometimes I wonder, where did she go when she left me? Is she doing well? Is my little princess happy? Does someone cherish her? Does she have money to spend? What does she eat, what does she drink..."

Ye Sichun drank as she listened, and the alcohol tasted different. She always called Yan Qingqiu 'little princess,' calling her her golden-haired princess. But for Song Qingre, in her heart, Yan Qingqiu had never been anything but her princess.

The girl had stirred up the starry sky and become her eternal moon.

Whatever they said about Song Qingre being the lofty moonlight, the moon that never falls—she didn't care. It was all empty titles to her.

Because she was the one chasing the moon.

Her girl, her little princess—she would come back.

For that, she could offer her life and soul to the moon.

Of course, she was afraid too. What if one day the moonlight saw what she'd become? Would it be afraid? Would it think she was a stranger now?

Song Qingre drank quite a bit, then checked the time. It was getting late, and she figured she should head home. The girl who'd hit on her offered to walk her, but Song Qingre shook her head and said no.

You Liyin had the bartender call Yan Qingqiu. She'd saved Yan Qingqiu's number last time.

The bartender wasn't sure if calling would summon Yan Qingqiu. Last time Fu Ye had called her a few times here and she never showed, even telling the bartender he'd better clamp down on the guy's mouth and drown him in alcohol.

"Want me to grab you an umbrella?" You Liyin said, muttering a complaint or two about not understanding what artists were so stubborn about. "Hold on."

The bar's upstairs was her brother's office. She went up to get it, but by the time she came back down, Song Qingre had already left. Ye Sichun said, "I gave her my umbrella. The rain's going to get worse. She'd been drinking, so she can't drive. Better she left early, or she wouldn't make it home once the downpour hits."

"I just called Yan Qingqiu from upstairs," You Liyin said. "Hope they don't miss each other. It's been over twenty years now."

Luo Xi had been listening the whole time. Only after Song Qingre left did she move over from the corner, her tone sour. "What's this about twenty years? Doesn't she like my brother?"

You Liyin sat down. She was Song Qingre's friend, fiercely loyal to her, and said with a polite smile, "Kid, not everyone likes your brother. Go ask your brother if he still dares to claim Song Qingre's crush is him."

Luo Xi didn't appreciate being called 'kid.' She used to have long straight hair and was about their age. Now with the new hairstyle, she looked a few years younger. She said grumpily, "Who's a kid? I told you, this hairstyle doesn't suit me."

You Liyin teased, "Ye Sichun's just into that type, liking younger kids."

"Don't talk nonsense. I just think this hairstyle suits you," Ye Sichun said, feeling her aesthetic judgment was solid. Girls should be cute and lovable. She praised Luo Xi. "See, you look so pretty now. Like a Barbie, elegant and noble."

Luo Xi bit her lip and drank some juice, then asked, "What did you mean by that just now? Song Qingre doesn't like my brother?"

"Only you treat your brother like treasure. You think Song Qingre would give him the time of day? What's there about him worth liking? She's an artist with normal aesthetic sense—would she fall for a promiscuous man? She's always loved her little neighbor sister. Getting with your brother was just her way of trying to win back the one she loves."

Then she added, "So you'd better hold tight to your brother. Don't let go. Let them be together in peace. The taste of waiting years for someone isn't sweet. Only a simpleton like Fu Ye can't see what's right in front of him."

Luo Xi looked at Ye Sichun. "You saw it too?"

Ye Sichun nodded. "Who couldn't see it?"

"So what am I, not human?"

Ye Sichun didn't want to rile her up, so she said, "No, you're a fairy."

Luo Xi felt much better. "I saw it before too. It's just... how should I put it? Yan Qingqiu loved too hard. Out of nowhere, she kept treating Song Qingre like a rival. I don't get it. She and Song Qingre were so close once, then suddenly she treated her like a mortal enemy. It's just... weird."

You Liyin agreed. She was Song Qingre's good friend, and the memory that stuck with her most was when Yan Qingqiu entered their school as a freshman. Song Qingre was assigned by the teacher to pick up the new students. She was helping others carry their luggage when Yan Qingqiu stood among the crowd, face long, yelling at her from a distance. That single shout of 'Song Xiaore' made everyone laugh at her.

Back then, everyone thought the neighbor sister was spoiled rotten, the complete opposite of the cute little sister Song Qingre described. They didn't like her much and planned to say a few words to put this arrogant little neighbor in her place. But Song Qingre wasn't angry at all—she went straight over to soothe her. The little neighbor wouldn't let her carry anything and lugged it herself, huffing with grievance at Song Qingre. After Song Qingre made her bed, everyone watched the little sister stick to Song Qingre like glue, eyes wide, jumping to help any parent who needed assistance before Song Qingre could lift a finger. If Song Qingre tried to help, she'd get angry. While helping, she'd curse the school for treating a genius so poorly, saying Song Xiaore's hands were meant for piano and painting.

The look of doting affection—everyone thought they'd tease Song Qingre about having that nickname, but found they couldn't. The love in it was too intense. Yan Qingqiu came to their classroom every day. Back then, the classrooms were far apart, with the freshman and sophomore buildings split into two zones. Every long break, Yan Qingqiu would come over to their side, even taking the long way to the bathroom just to pass by. Song Qingre never said it outright, but she'd always stand on the upper floor watching her, her gaze always following.

Back then, Song Qingre was chased by many. You Liyin's brother had fallen for her at first sight, loving only her. But seeing how close they were, he knew he had no chance. He was depressed for days, wrote two letters—both confession and farewell—and later Yan Qingqiu found out. After that, Yan Qingqiu came around even more often, practically wanting to drag a chair to sit in on their classes. She even made Song Qingre stop boarding so the two of them could live together, which tortured You Liyin's brother into a fever.

Everyone thought Yan Qingqiu was insufferably dramatic, but they all had to admit the two of them were wonderful together. When Song Qingre ran track, Yan Qingqiu ran alongside her, terrified she'd get hurt. When Song Qingre caught a cold, she came daily with medicine and hot water. Every holiday, she'd bring gifts, going out of her way to make each one different and creative. Song Qingre's desk drawer was always stuffed with all sorts of random trinkets.

You Liyin had been Song Qingre's deskmate for a while. Several times she saw Song Qingre fiddling with something in her drawer during class. She thought Song Qingre was sneaking snacks, breaking her image as the school beauty. She peeked once and found little folded paper rabbits and lanterns Yan Qingqiu had made, each one intricate. Song Qingre played with them in the drawer, telling her she'd accidentally broken a rabbit just now and was trying to fix it when she found writing inside.

It read: If the rabbit breaks, remember to come find me to fix it. I'm Song Xiaore's repairman.

For a while, their relationship influenced everyone's view of love. People thought this was how love should be.

Luo Xi saw it from a different angle. She saw Song Qingre doting on Yan Qingqiu. She was in the same grade as Yan Qingqiu but a different class. Back then, the beautiful senior Song Qingre would wait for Yan Qingqiu at the bottom of their building every day to eat together, speaking to her gently. If Yan Qingqiu said she felt unwell, Song Qingre would be immediately attentive. No matter where Yan Qingqiu was, if she called out, Song Qingre's gaze would land on her.

Everyone in the grade envied Yan Qingqiu.

Often on Saturdays, school let out for half a day. Every time she passed by, she'd see Song Qingre tutoring Yan Qingqiu in the classroom, the two of them chatting and laughing. During lunch breaks, Song Qingre would play piano for her in the music room. Especially in the second half of junior year, Yan Qingqiu's health was terrible—she'd faint at the drop of a hat, get headaches constantly. Once, Luo Xi saw Song Qingre holding her, eyes red. After that, Song Qingre cooked for her personally, taking care of her. Many times, she saw Song Qingre comforting Yan Qingqiu, rubbing her forehead and saying it didn't hurt anymore. Yan Qingqiu would ask for a kiss, saying it wouldn't hurt if she kissed her.

Several times when Song Qingre wasn't there, she saw Yan Qingqiu crying in secret, alone, even bumping into trees...

The grade director caught them being lovey-dovey multiple times back then. He'd always say, "I'm not against you dating early. It's just—if you could all find a girlfriend as amazing as Song Qingre, like Yan Qingqiu did, teachers definitely wouldn't object."

Yan Qingqiu was wilder and often got in trouble. She and Su Xingjie frequently stood outside for punishment. Whenever parents were called, Yan Qingqiu would ask for Song Qingre to come instead. Song Qingre, with her top grades and first-in-school record, would stand before the two of them. Yan Qingqiu would shamelessly hide behind her and shout, "Doesn't she count as a parent?"

"What kind of parent is she to you?"

"Does a future wife count?"...

But then they suddenly broke up. Yan Qingqiu suddenly started pursuing her brother. Back then, Luo Xi, as an outsider, felt it was a disaster falling from the sky. You break up, fine—but why steal the person I had a crush on?

And when Yan Qingqiu chased her brother, it wasn't sweet like before. Nothing like the fiery passion she'd had for Song Qingre.

They chatted while Ye Sichun stayed out of it. She hadn't gone to their school and knew nothing of these stories. The version she'd seen was Yan Qingqiu utterly hating Song Qingre, tormenting her until she was bruised and battered. Several times when Yan Qingqiu came for her hair, she'd deliberately cut it short or straighten it right in front of Song Qingre...

Then ask: "Pretty?"

A few times it was so bad Ye Sichun wanted to step in and teach her a lesson—burning paintings, throwing her things, nearly costing her half her life. Not once had she been good to Song Qingre.

"So according to you two, Yan Qingqiu really did love Song Qingre back then. Then I can't figure out what Fu Ye has that's worth loving. I never saw him being that good to her either." As she spoke, Ye Sichun glanced sidelong at Luo Xi, worried about hurting the kid's pride.

Luo Xi pretended not to hear. "I'm confused too. I can't figure out why she liked my brother. And at first, she didn't just target Song Qingre. She went after Su Xingjie too. I saw her several times warning Su Xingjie that if she wanted to keep being friends, she'd better behave and not end up like Song Qingre. She even made Su Xingjie swear to be her best friend forever and obey her. Su Xingjie actually swore it back then. I hated Yan Qingqiu for that... She was ungrateful. She had a neighbor who loved her and a friend who truly cared for her—why'd she have to chase after my brother?"

"Even that happened? Could she have been possessed, like, haunted by something unclean?" You Liyin asked in confusion. People in business tended to be superstitious.

Ye Sichun said, "Hey, don't speculate." She shushed them to be quieter. They spotted Yan Qingqiu at the bar's entrance. She walked in frowning, standing on tiptoe to scan the room.

Ye Sichun raised a hand. "Over here."

Yan Qingqiu hurried over, quickly catching the scent of alcohol. She frowned and asked, "Where is she?"

You Liyin met her suspicious look. "I didn't have anyone get rid of her. She left on her own."

"She was leaving—why didn't you stop her? It's pouring outside!" Yan Qingqiu held a grudge against her, still remembering that You Liyin had given Song Qingre her little notebook. She thought she wasn't a proper person.

You Liyin swirled her glass, took a sip, and didn't get angry. "Kid, do you know why she didn't wait? Because no one was coming to pick her up. Don't worry, she has self-control. She won't drink herself into a stupor." With that, You Liyin and the girl she'd just met moved elsewhere. Now only Ye Sichun was left. Ye Sichun said gently, "Don't worry. She might be in a low mood and wants to walk alone. You Liyin's right—she doesn't drink too much when she's out."

"What's wrong with her?" Yan Qingqiu was worried.

Ye Sichun found it hard to say. Luo Xi, sitting in the corner, looked up. "She was remembering the old days with you. It made her sad... She must be hurting a lot today. You used to treat her like she wasn't even human."

Yan Qingqiu turned toward the voice and only then noticed Luo Xi sitting there. She nodded, then ran out and drove slowly, searching the streets.

She'd thought Song Qingre calling her 'wife' was just teasing. Turns out she was genuinely hurting... Damn it!

After Yan Qingqiu left, Luo Xi also went out to her car, following behind her. Ye Sichun, having drunk, sat in the back seat, eyes closed to rest.

Luo Xi was just curious what Yan Qingqiu would do—whether she'd find Song Qingre and have a passionate kiss in the rain. She glanced at Ye Sichun in the rearview mirror and said, "Not for my brother."

On the rainy night, the alcohol was making Ye Sichun drowsy. She didn't dwell on Luo Xi's feelings and said bluntly, "Whatever. That's your own business. Who you like is your right."

Luo Xi's heart jolted, deeply uncomfortable. Was Ye Sichun angry? Because she still had feelings for her brother?

Ye Sichun frowned, head spinning, chest tight. "I feel sick." She was already getting nauseous.

Luo Xi suppressed her urge to watch the drama and stopped trailing Yan Qingqiu through the rain. "I'll take you home..." Finally, she added softly, "Don't let it weigh on you too much."

·

The rain fell harder. The streetlights were dim, everything pitch black in every direction. Searching like this aimlessly was hopeless. Yan Qingqiu thought for a moment. She called out "System" in her head while searching—if the system didn't reply, it meant Song Qingre was nearby, close to her.

After enough calls, the system caught on to her intent and stopped responding.

Rain hammered against the windshield. The wipers swept back and forth. In the rainy night, the lights grew faint, and people on the street became mere shadows, impossible to tell apart. Some held umbrellas, blocking either themselves or others.

She and Song Qingre had shared an umbrella once, but she only remembered the hand around the handle, not what it looked like when Song Qingre held it.

Yan Qingqiu was about to go mad with worry, ready to lose her temper at Song Qingre. She couldn't find her, and calls went unanswered. She drove home in a huff, sat on the sofa with a long face, waiting for Song Qingre to come back so she could scold her.

Song Qingre came home late. She'd gotten off work at five, gone to the bar until eight, left at eight-thirty, and now it was ten when she returned. She was holding an umbrella, but her shoulders, shirt, and pants were all soaked through.

She stood at the door, a puddle quickly forming on the floor. Her thin clothes were no match for the cold wind outside.

Yan Qingqiu walked straight over and took the umbrella from her hands to close it. Song Qingre's fingers were ice-cold, wet with autumn rain. Yan Qingqiu said gently, "Go inside and drink the ginger-cola soup."

"Mm?" Song Qingre's voice was hoarse, her breath carrying lemon and alcohol.

All kinds of jumbled alcohol, nothing like the clean citrus of Song Qingre's usual scent. Yan Qingqiu closed the umbrella and hung it in the stand by the door.

"Sorry. Went out for a few drinks with friends. We hadn't caught up in a while, so we talked a bit longer," Song Qingre said.

The room was filled with a strange smell—cola and ginger melded together, odd, yet somehow warm to breathe in.

Yan Qingqiu brought over the dark, murky concoction that smelled strange. "Drink it. Warm yourself up..."

Song Qingre had drunk a lot and couldn't manage much more. Yan Qingqiu added, "So you don't catch a cold. Whatever, if you don't want it, fine. Go shower."

Song Qingre took a sip. It tasted odd, heavy on ginger. She paused, drinking only half the bowl. "I'll go upstairs and rest then. You get some sleep too. I'm a bit tired today, so I won't mess around with you."

Yan Qingqiu nodded and watched her climb the stairs, muttering to herself: Why doesn't she ask me... like, whether I went looking for her? Does she think I never went to the bar?

Song Qingre looked dejected, not mentioning how she'd gotten home. Her mood was so low that each step up was heavy.

Wet footprints trailed up the stairs.

That night, Yan Qingqiu barely slept, her mind fixed on Song Qingre. Outside, the rain kept falling—no longer a drizzle but a torrential downpour. The plum tree in the courtyard creaked and swayed, the sound wrenching, as if it might topple at any moment. Yan Qingqiu lay in bed, tossing and turning, her head full of Song Qingre. Finally, she climbed out of bed.

She walked to the next room, waited a moment at the door, knocked softly. No answer. She pushed the door open a crack.

Song Qingre wasn't asleep. She was sitting on the floor by the bed, her back to the floor-to-ceiling window, beyond which was the rain-churned night. The rainy sky hid the moon, everything outside chaotic and lightless. Only the small lamp on the nightstand burned steadily. Her clothes were still soaked, having sat wrapped in a night of cold rain for who knows how long.

The alcohol in the room had turned sour with the added dampness.

Song Qingre didn't notice anyone coming in, her lashes closed. Only when Yan Qingqiu reached her and slowly crouched down did the light before her shift. She opened her eyes slowly, looked at the person before her, and for a moment was dazed. "Qiuqiu? You're back?"

Hearing that, Yan Qingqiu suddenly recalled the words she'd said, drunk, before: "Qiuqiu, are you abandoning me again?"

How much pain did it take to say something like that? So much that even now, it still cut at Yan Qingqiu's heart.

"Mm..." Yan Qingqiu crouched and looked at her. "Want me to put the alcohol away?"

Song Qingre said, "Mm."

Yan Qingqiu didn't scold her for drinking. Everyone had their own way of coping. She picked up the bottle, fitted the cork back on, tempted to smell the alcohol. Song Qingre said, "Don't drink, Qiuqiu. You're allergic."

"Mm." Yan Qingqiu plugged the cork tight, then carried the bottle out. Two steps to the door, she set it down there and came back to sit beside Song Qingre. "Go take a shower. Feels gross all sticky."

Song Qingre asked, "If I go, will you still be here when I come back?" Her voice was warm, low and husky. She didn't want Yan Qingqiu to leave.

"I'm not going anywhere. Don't worry." Yan Qingqiu held out a finger. "I swear to heaven."

"Okay." Song Qingre stood up obediently, swaying slightly. Yan Qingqiu reached out to steady her, but she caught herself.

Song Qingre went to the bathroom to shower. Yan Qingqiu watched the door, her heart softening. She listened to the water and asked, "Need any help?"

"No," Song Qingre said. "I can manage alone."

Yan Qingqiu could understand Song Qingre's feelings—isolated, no one to talk to when sad, drinking the only outlet.

Song Qingre stayed in there a long time. Or maybe it just felt long because Yan Qingqiu was anxious. She kept glancing at the bathroom, then used tissues to wipe the water off the floor.

As she tossed the tissues in the trash, Song Qingre came out in a bathrobe. She looked at the bed, then the window, and chose to sit on the floor again.

Yan Qingqiu came back and sat beside her. "Does something hurt?"

"Mm. My heart hurts." Song Qingre drew her knees together and hugged them. She was probably a bit drunk, speaking slowly. "I've never even been in love... and no one loves me. If someone would date me, I'd know how to love a person, whether I should keep waiting for someone."

"I'm a bad woman. Back then, I did everything I could to stop you from marrying him. I'm truly awful. Sometimes I feel so guilty. I don't want to be like this... but thinking of you with him keeps me up at night... Now that you know everything, I must look completely different in your eyes. I'm really bad. Maybe I'm a twisted pervert."

Yan Qingqiu hadn't expected such frankness and was caught off guard. "Is that why you drank today? You don't need to think about that anymore..." In a way, Song Qingre had done the right thing. She reassured her. "You're wonderful in my eyes."

Song Qingre said nothing, eyes closing briefly. Yan Qingqiu sat beside her and said, "Honestly, I wasn't that mad when I saw it..."

"Really?" Song Qingre asked, slowly leaning toward her shoulder. "Then right now, between me and Fu Ye, who's most important to you?"

She'd just brushed her teeth, but a faint hint of alcohol still lingered in her breath. It warmed Yan Qingqiu's ear. "You, of course."

She got no response from Song Qingre.

Did she not believe her? Yan Qingqiu turned to look. Song Qingre blinked, eyes red-rimmed, showing her most fragile side. Yan Qingqiu quickly said, "I mean it. I can't stand Fu Ye."

Song Qingre hummed, but Yan Qingqiu still wasn't sure she understood. Song Qingre let out another breath, and Yan Qingqiu heard her say, feebly, "But Fu Ye doesn't know that... He'll keep watching me. Keep slandering me. Once won't work, so twice, three times, four times—eventually you'll think I'm not that good. You'll be afraid of me, pull away from me... And I don't like badmouthing people..."

Yan Qingqiu's heart went soft, aching for her. Yes—this whole thing had been Fu Ye spreading the story, pinning it all on Song Qingre, tearing her down without mercy.

"I won't believe him!"

Song Qingre still shook her head. Yan Qingqiu grew anxious. "Really!"

"I don't doubt you. I just don't trust Fu Ye," Song Qingre said softly, as if she might fall asleep any moment. Yan Qingqiu didn't want her to sleep. She needed to make things clear.

"Talk a little longer." Yan Qingqiu called to her, grabbing her arm and shaking gently. "You don't trust me enough."

"It's not that I don't trust Qiuqiu. It's just that some things can't be stopped. So much is beyond your control. You say you won't see him, but what if he comes to you? You can not love him, but he'll keep saying he loves you. Qiuqiu always says she'll stay far away, but he'll still cling to you. Qiuqiu is such a gentle person, so reasonable. If someday he stops fighting you, stops arguing, says he wants to be friends, helps you in your career—would you be harsh to him? Qiuqiu couldn't. And if someone else came to you, saying I'm awful, siding with Fu Ye—what then... Qiuqiu, you're neutral. You haven't tipped fully toward me yet. You belong to the world, not just to my Qiuqiu..."

Yan Qingqiu was left speechless, no rebuttal forming. Song Qingre had a point. Fu Ye pestered her, yet she hadn't really fought back. From Song Qingre's perspective, her stance was neutral.

And worse—the system controlled her. She could only think about so much before it gave her headaches... headaches... Had the original Miss Yan been fighting the system, which was why she'd had constant headaches through junior and senior year?

"Qiuqiu wouldn't trust me unconditionally either... and of course, Qiuqiu doesn't have to be deliberately good to me. Someone like me isn't worth it," Song Qingre murmured. "It's me who keeps crossing lines. Keeps hoping. Keeps wishing Qiuqiu would be a little kinder to me, wanting Qiuqiu to be the fire that warms me."

"I..." can. Yan Qingqiu felt her tongue was clumsy, that she wasn't delicate enough with her. Song Qingre could see all her struggles, her gentleness perceptive and considerate.

The wind outside shook the branches, leaves scattering sparsely. Rain hammered the ground, loud as a sobbing turned up to full volume. Song Qingre didn't cry, but Yan Qingqiu felt her voice was hoarse. Tonight's rain was crying for her...

"Actually, I want Qiuqiu's unconditional favor too, without reasons, without hesitation, endlessly leaning my way."

Song Qingre leaned against her shoulder, her words blowing over. Yan Qingqiu's chest felt heavy and soft. She wanted to hold her, ache for her fiercely. Her hand clenched tightly... and finally crossed the line. She reached out, gently wrapping an arm around Song Qingre's waist. Her waist was slender, soft, smelling of clean citrus.

She was the plum tree swaying helplessly in the storm, Song Qingre only tough on the surface. Song Qingre leaned into her more heavily. She was too strong, too enduring—she didn't know how to play a little scheming, didn't think to drink in front of her, get herself blind drunk, and play on her sympathy...

Now she was just foolish... This woman was too heartbreaking.

Song Qingre's breath fell softly on her neck, quiet against her. And Fu Ye wanted to drag this moon of hers down—so shameless. The moon should always hang in the sky. She'd already grown used to the cold heights, to dealing with night clouds. Why bully her?

See—what a heartbreaking night without moonlight.

Yan Qingqiu leaned closer, hand around her waist, cheek brushing her hair. "It's okay, it's okay. Don't be scared. I don't believe Fu Ye. I believe you. You have to believe me too..."

Song Qingre didn't reply. In her heart, she swore fiercely: if she ever changed her feelings, she'd tattoo Song Qingre's name over her chest.

Noticing Song Qingre seemed to have fallen asleep, she turned to look behind her. No night had ever left such a deep impression on her—mixed with the scent of alcohol and rain.

She couldn't see the moon, yet she held it in her arms. She wanted to say: Don't be this world's moon anymore. Come with me. Come to my world. I'm alone here too...

·

Yan Qingqiu woke the next morning in Song Qingre's room. She'd slept by the bed all night. Song Qingre hadn't slept well, tossing and turning, so Yan Qingqiu had held her through the night.

The rain was still falling outside. During breakfast, the butler was checking the courtyard. He said the plum tree wouldn't bloom this winter—so many branches had snapped last night.

Yan Fu sighed, saying the tree had been transplanted when he got married because Yan Qingqiu's mother had the character 'mei' (plum) in her name. After lamenting, he instructed, "Winter's coming. Bundle up, all of you. Don't catch colds."

Just as he finished, a cough sounded. Song Qingre covered her mouth with a tissue, coughing lightly, head bowed with a faint smile. "Just a little cold. It's nothing."

Her smile was gentle and reassuring, but Yan Qingqiu's fingers tightened. Liar. She was clearly hurting yesterday.

Yan Qingqiu sat across from her, gripping her bowl and sipping the hot congee. Her mood soured.

Song Qingre finished eating first and stood. "I'm off to the studio..."

"What for?! You're not going. Stay home today. I'll have the butler get you medicine, and you're staying in bed," Yan Qingqiu said sternly.

"I..."

"What work can't be done remotely? I've seen Xing Xing handle everything online." Yan Qingqiu then had the butler contact the family doctor, telling him to examine Song Qingre if she kept coughing.

Song Qingre tried to speak, but Yan Fu nodded in agreement with Yan Qingqiu. "Listen to Qiuqiu. It's rare for her to care this much about you."

Song Qingre was silent for a moment, then nodded.

Yan Qingqiu had to go to the company. She was meeting with Wilderness today to discuss a partnership. If they could shoot an ad, great; if not, so be it. She wiped her mouth with a tissue and said, "I'll be back early."

"Mm... cough, cough."

Yan Qingqiu stood. "I'm off. Dad, wear more layers too."

She changed shoes at the door and put on a red beret. As she stepped out, she got a call from Su Xingjie. Su Xingjie said Wilderness had agreed to her terms and told her to come straight over for the shoot.

Yan Qingqiu replied with an 'okay.' In the car, she turned back to look. Song Qingre was watching her direction, gaze deep and intense, then quickly looked away.

Their eyes seemed to dodge, yet burned like fire that even the heavy rain couldn't extinguish.

The system noticed something was off. Once the car had driven far enough, it came online steadily and asked Yan Qingqiu: 【Did you two do something again yesterday? Don't tell me you nearly crossed the line again? Why are you so lustful? Can't you control yourself?】

Yan Qingqiu drove slowly—she was still a bit afraid of driving in the rain. But thinking about how she'd driven so long yesterday was terrifying.

The system's words were truly crude. 'Crossing the line'—they were just two lonely souls clinging to each other, nothing beyond the bounds.

The system: 【I think you can't be the dumbest host in history. It's so obvious, and you still believe her?】

Yan Qingqiu had nearly forgotten how painful yesterday was, but the memory was forcibly dragged back by the system. Song Qingre was right—even if she tried to avoid Fu Ye, the plot would force her to see him. And on top of that, this wretched system was sowing discord.

Yan Qingqiu: 【No, we just had a drink by the window yesterday. That's all.】

The system pondered that image: 【Was the atmosphere nice?】

The system: 【I think she's faking it, creating a mood. She's an artist—she knows exactly what atmosphere gets under someone's skin.】

Yan Qingqiu couldn't take it: 【How can you be so cold-blooded? She's this upset, and you say she's 'creating a mood'? You have no idea what yesterday was like, and you're spouting nonsense. You've never even tried to understand her, just painted her as some scheming woman.】

The system: 【You've been blinded by beauty.】

Yesterday, Song Qingre hadn't even used her looks. There was something between them, yes, but nothing sexual.

Really, the system was just hostile to her. Song Qingre herself admitted she was a little bad, but that badness seemed trivial to Yan Qingqiu... So what if a woman is a bit bad?

The system clearly had a bias against Song Qingre, always undermining her resolve.

Arriving at Wilderness, Yan Qingqiu drove slowly into the garage, parked, and sent her location to Su Xingjie. Su Xingjie came down to meet her and went over the dos and don'ts. She'd be watching too. The ad was dynamic, unlike the stills she'd done before.

As they went upstairs, they spotted a familiar face. Song Qingre was basically a prophet—there was Fu Ye.

Fu Ye sat on the sofa in the lounge, long legs crossed.

"Ignore him. I bet he's behind the ad, but I've already locked the contract. Let's make money first," Su Xingjie soothed her. Can't hold a grudge against cash.

Yan Qingqiu nodded. She'd thought about avoiding Fu Ye, but what was the point? This scumbag would keep crawling toward her anyway. She needed to make him completely give up—make everyone, including Fu Ye himself, see there was no chance between them.

At the shoot, Fu Ye sat across from them. This time he didn't hear Yan Qingqiu cursing him, so his gaze grew heated instantly, not a glance off her.

Yan Qingqiu took out her phone; he did too. He'd compiled a lot of evidence last night, ready to send her more. Once wouldn't work, so twice. If twice failed, three, four times—eventually she'd snap out of it...

The staff brought them tea. Su Xingjie reached for it, but Yan Qingqiu nudged her with her elbow, meaning: don't touch the water here—what if Fu Ye's slipped something in it...

Su Xingjie caught on and had her assistant go buy drinks.

Yan Qingqiu texted Song Qingre: 【Drink more hot water. Don't overthink.】

Song Qingre replied with a voice message: "I'm feeling better. Cough. Take care of yourself... cough. Not too bad. Thanks for caring, Qiuqiu."

She listened through her earbuds, then glared at Fu Ye and snorted coldly.

Fu Ye sent her an email: 【How's your mood today?】

Yan Qingqiu opened a shopping app and placed an order: 【Funeral procession service (premium package, wreath included. Name will be arranged fresh upon delivery)】

Address: Fu Corporation Building