Chapter 135

The driver in the front seat listened to the conversation in the back and glanced at them through the rearview mirror, thoroughly surprised.

He had worked for the Lin family for many years, handling transportation for Ran Qingqing and Lin Yuewei. He knew Lin Yuewei well, so when had he ever heard her speak to anyone in such a gentle voice?

He still remembered this year—no, it should be last year now. At the beginning of last year, right after the two of them got married, they called him the very next day and told him to come pick her up and take her home. She hadn’t wanted to spend even a second with Miss Gu. As for Ran Qingqing’s attempts to play matchmaker, she had only shown irritation and impatience.

Who could have guessed they’d be this good now?

The driver took his eyes off the mirror and looked back at the road ahead, then put on a slow, sentimental song.

Gu Yanqiu didn’t cry for long. She wasn’t used to showing weakness, but she had already cried in front of Lin Yuewei more times than she could count. When she sat up, her face was a little hot. Lin Yuewei pulled out two tissues and gently dabbed under her eyes and at the corners.

When Gu Yanqiu met her smiling gaze, she immediately turned her face away. “Don’t look at me.”

Lin Yuewei smoothed the hair at her forehead. “Okay.”

And really didn’t look at her again.

Only after Gu Yanqiu gradually settled her stirred emotions did she turn back to look at Lin Yuewei. Her gaze dropped lower, to their tightly interlaced fingers, and she rested her head lightly on Lin Yuewei’s shoulder.

Lin Yuewei leaned back a little so she could rest more comfortably, then lowered her head and said in a voice only the two of them could hear, “President Gu, that’s a little... submissive of you.”

Gu Yanqiu tilted her head up and took a quick, precise bite out of her cheek.

Lin Yuewei hissed, “Why are you copying me?”

Gu Yanqiu looked at her steadily. “Because I want to.”

Lin Yuewei laughed. “Go ahead. It’s not like I said you couldn’t.”

Gu Yanqiu licked the spot she had bitten again.

Lin Yuewei dodged and laughed. “Tickles.”

Gu Yanqiu wrapped both arms around her, cutting off her retreat and leaning closer. Lin Yuewei shut her eyes and gave up. “Fine, fine, go ahead. I’ll admit it even if it tickles.” She muttered, “Why are you suddenly acting like a puppy?”

Gu Yanqiu looked at her closed eyes and gave her lips a light, fleeting kiss before returning to her original position.

Lin Yuewei blinked. “Huh?”

Gu Yanqiu said, “I’m sleepy. I’m going to rest.” As she spoke, she closed her eyes against Lin Yuewei’s shoulder.

Lin Yuewei didn’t understand how she had changed so quickly, but seeing the smile at the corner of her mouth, she could tell she was in a good mood. So she unfolded the thin blanket on the back seat and covered Gu Yanqiu’s legs with it.

Gu Yanqiu wasn’t sleepy at all. She only said she was because she wasn’t quite used to the mood after opening up and talking, and it was a temporary way to smooth things over. So she was fully aware of everything Lin Yuewei was doing.

She could feel Lin Yuewei’s gaze still resting on her face, and she didn’t know what exactly she was looking at.

After a while, the warmth of a fingertip touched the bridge of her nose, then slowly slid down along it and came to rest in the center of her lips, pressing there lightly. Her ear was pressed close to Lin Yuewei’s shoulder, and she could clearly feel the other woman swallow; the motion tugged faintly at her shoulder.

Lin Yuewei slowly lowered her head, warm breath brushing against the side of her nose.

Gu Yanqiu suddenly had a mischievous thought. She pretended to be ticklish, wrinkled her nose, and let out a soft, impatient “mm.”

That breath immediately vanished.

Lin Yuewei sat up straight, her face inexplicably red and her heart pounding, just like back when they were still in that awkward, ambiguous stage.

Gu Yanqiu quietly curved her lips.

The two old married women played their sneaky little kissing game with great enthusiasm, and forty minutes later they arrived at the airport terminal.

Inside the car, Gu Yanqiu helped Lin Yuewei put on her mask and hat, checked everything once over, and said, “All right.”

Lin Yuewei went into the terminal one step ahead of her. After passing the security checkpoint at the entrance, she called her photographer friend surnamed Fang. In the end, they met in the VIP waiting lounge.

They had seen each other at yesterday’s gathering, so the introductions weren’t necessary, but there was one more stranger with them now.

Photographer Fang’s girlfriend had the surname Yun. She seemed a little shy and was hiding behind Fang, not talking much.

After the four of them gathered, they waited for takeoff in the lounge. Fang had a DSLR hanging from his neck, which he kept fiddling with. Every now and then he would take a photo of his girlfriend, then get up to take pictures of other people outside; even the cups on the table could keep his attention through the lens for ages. It was obvious he loved photography.

He pointed the DSLR at Lin Yuewei and Gu Yanqiu. Lin Yuewei stretched out a hand to block the lens and asked Gu Yanqiu, “Do you mind?”

Gu Yanqiu shook her head.

Lin Yuewei put her hand down. “Go ahead.”

Photographer Fang said, “Strike a pose.”

Lin Yuewei had, after all, done magazine shoots and been on covers before, so after thinking for a moment she lifted her chin slightly, directed her gaze toward the camera, and arranged her expression. Fang gave her a thumbs-up, then looked at Gu Yanqiu. “Sister-in-law?”

Photographer Fang was a few months younger than Lin Yuewei.

Gu Yanqiu: “……”

After hesitating for a moment, she leaned toward Lin Yuewei’s ear and asked, “Isn’t a peace sign kind of corny?”

Lin Yuewei had thought she was going to say something top secret. Once she heard this, she nearly burst out laughing and nodded. “It is.”

Gu Yanqiu said, “Then how about a finger gun?” She made a shooting gesture under the table.

Lin Yuewei: “……” She turned to Fang and said, “Why don’t you take some other shots first? Let’s discuss this.”

Curious, Lin Yuewei asked, “You’ve never taken photos before?”

Gu Yanqiu’s ears were a little hot. In a soft voice, she said, “I have.”

Lin Yuewei leaned in. “Any photos? Show me.”

Gu Yanqiu took out her phone. Every time she changed phones, she copied over her old photos and imported them into the new one, so although this phone was new, the photos inside were very old. Gu Yanqiu sorted them by year and tapped into 2013, the year she went abroad.

At the university gate, Gu Yanqiu had left behind a photo with her parents. Gu Huai and Shen Huaiyu had sent her to school.

Lin Yuewei craned her head over to look closely. Gu Huai and Shen Huaiyu stood on either side, with Gu Yanqiu sandwiched in the middle, her hands hanging straight at her sides, proper and restrained.

Over the next five years, Gu Yanqiu went to many places: the Eiffel Tower, Prague Castle, the Colosseum in Ancient Rome, Oia Town... and the Alps, where she wore ski gear and waved ski poles in her hands, the only photo in which her pose was noticeably dynamic. The rest were all the same: standing in front of landmarks, hands at her sides. Oh, and there was also the peace sign—just one photo at each location, with a very strong “I’ve been here” feel.

After Lin Yuewei finished looking, she let out a deep sigh. “Your photos... if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were pasted in.” If not for the fact that she was genuinely beautiful, it would have been unbearably awkward.

Gu Yanqiu: “……” She reached for Lin Yuewei’s phone, but Lin Yuewei lifted it out of reach. “What are you doing?”

Gu Yanqiu pressed her lips together. “Give it back.”

Lin Yuewei said, “No. I’m not done looking.”

Gu Yanqiu frowned. “Haven’t you already finished?”

Lin Yuewei said, “I want to appreciate them carefully.”

Gu Yanqiu was mortified and kept trying to grab it. “What is there to appreciate? Didn’t you just say I look pasted in?”

Lin Yuewei almost stood on the chair. “Wait until I finish! Even if I look pasted in, I’m still cute, okay? It’s my wife; can’t I look at a couple of photos?”

Gu Yanqiu: “No!”

Lin Yuewei said, “Then I’ll swap with you, all right?”

Gu Yanqiu’s expression softened a little. Lin Yuewei handed over her own phone. “My QQ album. I uploaded these back when it was still popular. They’re all black history; look at whatever you want.”

Gu Yanqiu took her phone and opened Lin Yuewei’s QQ account. These days most contact was through WeChat, and she barely ever used QQ. As for Qzone, which sounded even more ancient, she had never taken part in it at all. On top of that, the interface had changed, so it took her quite a while to find the album section.

Lin Yuewei had categorized several albums by year. Gu Yanqiu followed the timeline and first clicked into the most recent high school album. Lin Yuewei was wearing the standard blue-and-white school uniform, her bangs pushed back, revealing a full forehead and a pair of bright eyes. Full of youthful energy, she looked obedient and innocent as she listened to someone speaking beside her.

Gu Yanqiu enlarged the picture so that only Lin Yuewei’s figure remained in the center of the screen. She asked, “You didn’t go to a private elite school?”

Lin Yuewei was fiddling with something and kept tapping on Gu Yanqiu’s screen. At the question, she answered casually, “No. I’ve always gone to public school, from childhood to adulthood. My family has a tradition of thrift, simplicity, and hard work. My dad was afraid I’d start comparing myself with other people. Besides, I went to top schools, so there wasn’t much difference.”

“Oh.” Gu Yanqiu nodded and flipped to the next photo. Lin Yuewei was still in her school uniform, holding a stack of books in her arms and standing in front of the stone lion by the library entrance, looking toward something outside the frame, as if she were looking at someone. Her brows and eyes were bright with a lively smile.

Gu Yanqiu held the phone up to her and asked, “What were you looking at here? Do you remember?”

“What?” Lin Yuewei studied the photo for a moment, then shook her head. “I don’t remember. It was years ago; how could I remember? Maybe I saw something interesting?”

Gu Yanqiu looked disappointed, with a hint of some other emotion as well, and sat back.

Lin Yuewei paused what she was doing and leaned close to her ear. “President Gu?”

Gu Yanqiu was ticklish from her breath and shifted to the side. “What is it?”

Lin Yuewei touched her shoulder again. “You’re even jealous over something this old?”

Gu Yanqiu had originally wanted to say no, but for some reason that flashed through her mind, she suddenly said with surprising firmness, “Can’t I?”

Lin Yuewei laughed. “You can, you can. Let me think again, then; I’ll give you a big one. If it’s not sour, no charge.”

Gu Yanqiu realized she was teasing her and reached out to pinch her waist.

Lin Yuewei cried out in pain, looking very shocked. “That move...”

Gu Yanqiu asked, “What about it?”

Lin Yuewei said, “Nothing.” When Lin Yuewei realized she liked women, she had asked Jiang Congbi for some novels in that genre to read. In general, the shou characters were supposed to be a little coquettish, always pinching the gong and whatnot. Gu Yanqiu was very different; as a gong, she wanted to claim all the shou’s traits for herself too. She had a gong-and-shou-in-one body. Amazing.

And she had a wife who was gong-and-shou-in-one herself, which was even more amazing.

Lin Yuewei was amused by her own imagination and started laughing. Gu Yanqiu had no idea why she was laughing and thought she was making fun of her jealousy, so she pinched her again.

That was disastrous. Lin Yuewei laughed so hard she couldn’t stop.

The other three all looked at her with the gaze usually reserved for the mentally challenged, especially Fang the photographer, who secretly hid his phone under the table, pointed the camera upward, and turned the whole thing into a short video that he sent to the childhood-friends group chat.

The childhood friends, each busy with their own holiday plans, all popped up at once, saying their worldview had collapsed.

[Friend 1: Oh dear, has fong gone crazy?]

[Friend 2: Could this be the long-lost “smiling half-step poison” of the martial world?]

[Friend 3: Who is this?]

[Friend 4: It’s President Lin, don’t you recognize her?]

[Friend 3: My God]

[Fang, the handsomest real estate guy: War correspondent Fang the photographer reporting live from the front. According to eyewitnesses, at around 1:00 p.m. today, this woman fell into a frenzy after talking with her girlfriend; the cause remains unknown]

[Friend 1: Got it]

[Friend 2: Love makes people stupid]

[Friend 3: Didn’t expect President Lin to escape it either]

[Friend 4: Who was it that once said: there’s no way I’m ever dating, not in these next ten years; dating is such a childish, waste-of-time thing, who would even want to do that?]

[Fang, the handsomest real estate guy: So damn tasty]

The group chat exploded with laughter.

Lin Yuewei’s phone was in Gu Yanqiu’s hands. Gu Yanqiu opened the messages that kept popping up and saw the chat in the group; once again, she glanced toward Lin Yuewei. Lin Yuewei still didn’t know she was being teased in the group. She finally laughed herself out, then took a sip of tea to moisten her throat.

Gu Yanqiu was looking at the group chat when another burst of messages suddenly came in, the rapid-fire notifications making the phone look like it was glitching.

She opened the message bar and found that the sender was herself; more precisely, it had been sent from her own account.

Gu Yanqiu clicked into the conversation with herself, and inside were all the photos Lin Yuewei had just called “pasted in.”

Gu Yanqiu: “!!”

More and more photos kept appearing on the screen, and Lin Yuewei had selected all of them.

Gu Yanqiu: “Lin Yuewei!”

Lin Yuewei simply grabbed her phone and ran. Gu Yanqiu could only watch helplessly as she sent over every single photo. Lin Yuewei finally looked satisfied. After swapping phones back, she even chose one picture to use as wallpaper.

Gu Yanqiu looked utterly resigned to her fate, while Lin Yuewei showed no sympathy at all. Instead, she signaled Fang the photographer to capture the scene and send it to her later.

In the end, Gu Yanqiu was forced to use a magazine to cover her face.

Lin Yuewei kept leaning in and saying flattering things to appease her, very softly, right by her ear, deliberately breathing on her as she spoke. Hidden behind the magazine, she kissed and licked at her, provoking Gu Yanqiu until she wanted to put her in place right there and then.

They messed around like that all the way until they got on the plane.

It was first class, with their seats side by side and a curtain that, once drawn, blocked everything outside. The two of them hid inside and shared a deep kiss. Beyond the window was blue sky and white clouds, and it felt as though they were lying on top of the clouds themselves, their whole bodies light and floating.

When they finally broke apart, breathing heavily, Lin Yuewei helped Gu Yanqiu straighten the collar that had been pulled askew during the kiss. Her heart was pounding wildly; it was a little thrilling.

She rolled over and sat up to check the time, then asked how long until arrival.

The flight was eleven hours long, and only half an hour had passed since takeoff.

Lin Yuewei: “……”

She pulled the curtain open and immediately met the flight attendant’s eyes. The attendant approached politely and asked, “Is there anything you need?”

Lin Yuewei said, “Two cups of warm water, thank you.”

The flight attendant brought the water over, asked if they needed anything else, and after Lin Yuewei shook her head, politely withdrew. Lin Yuewei took one cup for herself and handed the other to Gu Yanqiu.

Gu Yanqiu lowered her eyes, the corners of her mouth faintly lifted, as if she were thinking about something.

Lin Yuewei wasn’t sleepy. She took a script out of her backpack; it was for a new drama Chen Xuan had gotten for her, one that wouldn’t start filming until midyear. She was told to have a look first. The contract hadn’t been signed, the cast hadn’t been finalized, and the details were still under discussion.

The title was "I Really Can’t Think of a Name," a fantasy film that, due to policy, couldn’t actually be fantasy. It was a major IP adaptation. Nowadays, only a tiny fraction of IP dramas became hits; most were changed into one thing and flopped into another. When Lin Yuewei first heard she might be taking this role, she had asked Chen Xuan whether this kind of project was worth much at all, and whether it was basically useless for an actor’s career boost.

Chen Xuan said the current market wasn’t lacking good actors; on the contrary, there were many. What it lacked was good scripts. A lot of actors were stuck with no roles to play, or only bad ones. And acting in a bad production—so long as you didn’t deliver performance-disaster-level acting—was still better than having no work at all.

These days, only a tiny group at the very top of the entertainment pyramid could reach outstanding scripts: people like Ran Zhengrong, Bai Hua, and so on, as well as certain actors with their own connections and skill that had been recognized by the tip of the pyramid. Even someone as prominent as Qu Xuesong, already one of the most reliable ratings-drawing actresses among the young female stars, still couldn’t land good scripts every time. Before Mist City, Qu Xuesong had taken a modern romance drama adapted from an IP novel. The original novel had been pretty good, but after airing, it turned out the screenwriter had insisted on improvising all over the source material until it barely resembled the original. The male and female leads’ scenes were cut down, the second female lead got insane amounts of extra screentime, and after episode ten it was all filler. Its reputation plunged from a supposedly conscientious production to a textbook high-start, low-finish failure, and it ended quietly with no impact at all.

IP adaptations carried huge risks. This year there was also another IP drama that exploded in exactly the opposite direction, sweeping up the year’s top ratings and making the male and female leads famous overnight. That was the entertainment industry for you; there were no rules. You never knew when fate would look at someone and make them blow up in a single night.

Chen Xuan had said, “You getting Mist City was pure luck. On top of that, this whole incident happened, and you happened to catch Director Yang’s eye. As long as the later editing doesn’t go off the rails, with Qu Xuesong leading the cast, the ratings won’t be bad. You know her last drama, the one that went from high opening to low ending? She boosted the male lead to fame with almost no effort, and now he’s swamped with appearances.”

The actress originally supposed to play the second female lead in Mist City had been indirectly affected by Lin Yuewei losing the resource, and then got shelved. Lin Yuewei listened with a guilty conscience, but also couldn’t help looking forward to it. Just how far could Qu Xuesong carry her?

All in all, this fantasy IP drama called "I Really Can’t Think of a Name" was the sort of thing that was bland on the palate but too good to throw away, a half-baked compromise; still, there were many actresses fighting over it. For Chen Xuan to get it was her own ability.

Lin Yuewei focused on the script. She read quickly; this wasn’t a detective drama like Mist City that required actual thought. She skimmed through it in a little over two hours. There was nothing especially striking, and there were no glaring flaws either. The dialogue was modern and blandly sugary; it was a very ordinary script, even a somewhat mediocre one, much worse than Mist City.

After filming her last TV drama, her standards had become a little picky. Thinking that she would have to act in something like this, she closed the script and sighed.

Gu Yanqiu was holding a Kindle and reading, but her attention had never really left Lin Yuewei. As soon as she heard the sigh, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

Lin Yuewei lifted the script. “It’s not very good.”

Gu Yanqiu thought simply, “Then don’t take it.”

As she spoke, she raised a hand to summon the flight attendant.

Lin Yuewei hurriedly pressed her hand down, laughing and crying at once. “What are you doing?”

Gu Yanqiu blinked. “Helping you solve your problems.”

Lin Yuewei said, “What problems are you solving? Don’t make trouble. You can’t help with this.”

Gu Yanqiu said, “How can I not help? Tell me.”

Lin Yuewei didn’t want to.

Gu Yanqiu made as if to call the flight attendant again. Left with no choice, Lin Yuewei told her the whole story from start to finish. Gu Yanqiu raised her brows and repeated the same line: “If you don’t want to take it, then don’t.”

Lin Yuewei laughed at her stubbornness. “It’s not that simple. If you run into a client you don’t like in normal business, do you just stop working with them?”

“These are not the same thing.” Gu Yanqiu corrected her seriously. “A client you don’t like doesn’t affect my ability to cooperate with him, but filming a project you don’t like will affect your state.”

Then she dropped a bombshell: “I’ll invest in a film for you.”

It felt as if thunder had struck right next to Lin Yuewei’s ear. “What did you say?”

Gu Yanqiu said earnestly, “I said I’ll put up the money and create a film tailored just for you, one where you can act in something you like.”

Lin Yuewei looked at her for a long moment, then reached out and patted Gu Yanqiu’s head with affectionate exasperation. “Be good. Do you know how much that would cost?”

Gu Yanqiu thought about it. “A few million?”

Lin Yuewei said, “At minimum, a few million. And even if it gets made, that’s one thing; how it gets released is another. And once it’s released, whether it becomes a hit is yet another matter. There’s a very real chance those few million just go right down the drain.”

Gu Yanqiu fell silent, but her expression wasn’t that of someone backing down in the face of difficulty. She was seriously considering whether the thing was actually feasible.

Afraid Gu Yanqiu might really start liquidating property to invest in a film for her, Lin Yuewei hurriedly stated in advance, “Don’t do anything like that. I won’t appreciate it. Forced praise brings heavenly retribution.”

Her acting skills were still nowhere near the top of the industry. No matter how tailored a script was for her, nine times out of ten she’d still make a bad movie out of it. She was self-aware enough to know that.

After thinking for a moment, Gu Yanqiu said, “How about I get Cheng Guiyuan’s company to give you a role?”

Lin Yuewei refused. “No.”

Gu Yanqiu was puzzled. “Didn’t you say there aren’t any good films to act in?”

Lin Yuewei replied, “Wouldn’t that make you my sugar mommy?”

Gu Yanqiu said righteously, “What’s wrong with me being your sugar mommy? Besides, we’re legally married and don’t have a money relationship. How is that sugar mommying? This is called helping each other.”

The logic came in neat little chains, and Lin Yuewei couldn’t help laughing. “You’re helping me, sure. But what am I helping you with?”

Gu Yanqiu said, “If you’re happy, then I’m happy. Making me happy is the biggest help of all.”

Lin Yuewei couldn’t resist pinching Gu Yanqiu’s cheek, moved and amused at once. “All right, all right. You don’t need to worry about this little thing. I can solve it myself. Just wait for me to get famous.”

Gu Yanqiu looked rather disappointed. “All right.”

Lin Yuewei pinched her again and asked with a smile, “What now?”

Gu Yanqiu said regretfully, “I feel like when you work outside, I can’t help you with anything.”

Lin Yuewei adored the slightly wistful look on her face, with her lips pressed together. She pulled her close and kissed her again and again, soothing her. “When you’re at the company, aren’t I unable to help you with anything either? It’s normal.”

Gu Yanqiu was still unhappy, looking listless.

Lin Yuewei said, “If I get famous in the future, I’ll let you invest in me, okay?”

Gu Yanqiu glanced at her and gave a faint “oh.”

Lin Yuewei rustled the curtain shut again.

When she pulled it open again, Gu Yanqiu’s cheeks were flushed red, and the earlier lethargy was gone.

After finishing the first script, Lin Yuewei put it away and turned to study the earlier period costume script. Once this vacation was over, she would start filming. She was playing a supporting villain with not many scenes, concentrated into just a few episodes, and the shooting schedule was only two weeks long. She didn’t neglect it just because the role wasn’t important; ever since the last audition, she had been preparing. The script in her hands now had its edges curled from use, and the margins were packed densely with notes in all different colored pens.

So long as she wanted to, she could sink into her own world at any time. That was one of Lin Yuewei’s talents; even on a humming airplane, she could still chew through a script.

Gu Yanqiu watched Lin Yuewei intently for a while. Sleepiness finally crept over her, so she pulled the blanket up and lay down to sleep.

It was ten p.m. in Beijing time, three hours before landing. Lin Yuewei emerged from her absorbed state and turned her head to see Gu Yanqiu’s sleeping face, studying her little by little from her brows downward.

Lin Yuewei put away her script and notebook, then lay down as well. She gently slipped her hand into Gu Yanqiu’s palm; Gu Yanqiu’s hand seemed to possess its own awareness, and it closed around hers, patting it twice before going still.

Lin Yuewei turned off the light and closed her eyes.

She slept deeply, until the faint rustling of movement reached her ears. In the pale light, Lin Yuewei opened her eyes, her head also heavy and foggy. She shook it from side to side twice, her gaze blank. Supporting herself on an elbow, she felt Gu Yanqiu help her sit up.

Looking out the window, Lin Yuewei could already see scattered points of light. She rubbed her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Almost landing,” Gu Yanqiu answered.

“Finally.” Lin Yuewei covered her mouth to yawn, then stretched and sat up properly to wait for landing.

Indonesia straddled both sides of the equator, and most of it had a tropical rainforest climate with year-round heat. It was winter back home, but here it was warm and humid. It had been a shivering winter day in down jackets just hours ago; now even long sleeves felt too hot at night.

As soon as they stepped off the plane, heat rushed over them. After only a few steps they were drenched in sweat. Lin Yuewei took off the jacket she had prepared in advance for wearing here and draped it over her arm. With oversized sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, she asked Gu Yanqiu, who was wearing both long sleeves and a jacket, “Aren’t you hot?”

“Not really.” Gu Yanqiu held up the prayer beads on her wrist and smiled. “A calm mind makes coolness.”

A little annoying.

Lin Yuewei wanted to bite her, but there were people all around, so she let it go.

Gu Yanqiu was wearing sunglasses too, which made her face look very small.

After the four of them collected their luggage, they took a taxi. Since this was an international tourist area, English was the common language. Aside from Fang the photographer’s girlfriend, the other three had no problem with English, especially Gu Yanqiu, who had studied abroad, so they didn’t need a translator.

By the time they reached the hotel, it was already past two a.m. local time. The four split into two groups and had booked rooms with direct sea views. After saying good night to each other, they went back to their rooms.

Lin Yuewei sat on the sofa and watched Gu Yanqiu unpack. Including tonight, they would be staying here for four days in total; on the fifth day they’d return to the country, and after that Gu Yanqiu would go to work at the company while she went to the set to film.

Gu Yanqiu put their toiletries in the bathroom, then dragged the suitcase back into the room. Her shoulders suddenly dipped as a person hung onto her from behind. Lin Yuewei had wrapped both arms around her neck and hooked her legs around her waist, transforming once again into a giant hanging ornament.

Gu Yanqiu had already figured it out: every time Lin Yuewei clung to her back like this, it meant she was feeling too much to put into words.

Gu Yanqiu supported her from behind so she wouldn’t fall. After only a few steps, she indeed heard Lin Yuewei sigh. “What am I supposed to do?”

“What do you mean, what are you supposed to do?”

“We haven’t even started the vacation yet, and I’m already thinking about what happens after it ends.”

“Then don’t think about it.”

“I can’t not think about it. I don’t have anything else to do.”

“Want to help me unpack?”

“No. I’m lazy.”

“Then what do you want to do?”

“Just hang on like this.”

Gu Yanqiu: “……” Then hang on, I guess.

Fortunately, her usual training meant she had more than enough stamina. Gu Yanqiu, moving only slightly slower than usual, made the bed, put fresh sheets on top of the mattress, covered the pillows, dusted off her clothes, and walked to the open suitcase.

Lin Yuewei leaned over her shoulder to look inside and saw Gu Yanqiu take out a suit: a plain navy business suit, fitted and waist-cinching, with tailoring so meticulous it looked exquisite. Gu Yanqiu had worn it to work before. That morning, after she changed into it and was still resting on the bed, Lin Yuewei had immediately lit up with predatory intentions. Of course, because she had to go to work, nothing happened in the end, and later she forgot all about it.

For a moment, Lin Yuewei didn’t understand why this suit was here and said, “You brought that on a vacation? Don’t tell me there’s business to discuss here too?” Surely not? It would be a real buzzkill to talk business on a honeymoon.

Gu Yanqiu said, “No business. I’m...”

Because Lin Yuewei was still lying on her back, she couldn’t see her expression. Her tone also gave nothing away, so Lin Yuewei hopped down and went around to face her, only to find Gu Yanqiu staring absently at the suit in her hands.

Lin Yuewei waved a hand in front of her face. “Hey!”

Gu Yanqiu withdrew her gaze, put the suit back, and smiled. “Nothing. Go take a shower. It’s very late.”

Lin Yuewei frowned, feeling that something about her was strange. But they had spent so long on the plane today that a bath and a rest really were necessary. Lin Yuewei went into the bathroom to run the hot water. Just before stepping in, she ran back out and asked Gu Yanqiu, “Want to come with me?”

Gu Yanqiu froze. “Huh?”

Lin Yuewei tucked her long hair behind her ear, lowered her eyes, and softened her voice a little. “Together? Coming or not?”

Gu Yanqiu’s face gradually turned red, and she nodded lightly.

The usual shower time more than doubled, and the two of them came out together, both wearing an abnormal flush. Lin Yuewei sat on the edge of the bed blow-drying her hair, while Gu Yanqiu wrapped her damp long hair in a large towel, drew back the curtains, and stood before the huge floor-to-ceiling window, looking out at the moonlit seaside.

“I’m done.” Lin Yuewei put down the hairdryer and called her over.

Gu Yanqiu turned around, barefoot, her pretty toes touching the oak floor. Her bathrobe was tied loosely, snow skin and red lips, a long neck, and wet hair draped to one side.

Lin Yuewei swallowed and thought she looked very sexy.

She knelt on the bed to help Gu Yanqiu dry her hair, then pressed a hand to the open neckline of Gu Yanqiu’s bathrobe.

Gu Yanqiu understood the stirring in her eyes and said, “You can.”

Lin Yuewei went to wash her hands. When she came back, she gently embraced Gu Yanqiu, who was still slowly regulating her breathing. Gu Yanqiu immediately hugged her back and murmured, “Weiwei.” She called her name over and over until the trembling in her body gradually eased.

The two lay side by side on the bed, holding hands and chatting idly. At some point, they both fell asleep.

They had arrived at an awkward time; it happened to be Bali’s rainy season. When they woke in the morning, the sky outside the window was overcast, and a heavy rain looked ready to fall at any moment. Lin Yuewei rolled over, propping her cheek on one hand as she watched the floor-to-ceiling glass gradually blur with rain mist.

Gu Yanqiu woke a little later than she did. The moment she saw the weather, her face showed regret. “It’s raining on the very first day.”

Lin Yuewei didn’t mind. She was optimistic. “I checked before; it won’t keep raining. It’ll clear up after a few hours. Are you still sleepy? Want to sleep a little longer?”

“No more sleeping.” Gu Yanqiu wasn’t used to lying in bed for too long; it made her feel uncomfortable all over. So she got up, washed up, and prepared to eat breakfast.

Since she was already up, it was no fun for Lin Yuewei to stay in bed alone, so she climbed up too and walked into the washroom, where she hugged Gu Yanqiu from behind and rested her chin on her shoulder. Because of the height difference, it took a bit of effort, and she even stood on tiptoe a little.

Gu Yanqiu glanced downward, pretending not to notice her toes lifting, then looked up again and squeezed toothpaste onto Lin Yuewei’s toothbrush before handing it back.

Lin Yuewei took it and brushed her teeth to the hum of the electric toothbrush.

Their eyes met in the mirror, and they smiled at each other.

A honeymoon was still necessary. In an unfamiliar city, the feeling of belonging to each other made Lin Yuewei float with happiness. After washing up, she started sticking to Gu Yanqiu again like glue. She had never been like this before, but for some reason she felt very uninhibited here.

Gu Yanqiu already lacked a sense of security and enjoyed being clung to by her even more, so she was more than happy to take Lin Yuewei wherever she went.

Lin Yuewei sat on Gu Yanqiu’s lap and finished breakfast with her feeding her. The two of them lingered on the carpet for a while, and because they couldn’t go out, it was still a little boring. Lin Yuewei started playing with Gu Yanqiu’s hair, braiding it and then loosening it, loosening it and braiding it again. Gu Yanqiu was rather helpless.

Seeing her expression, Lin Yuewei said in exasperation, “Then you tell me what we should do instead.”

Gu Yanqiu couldn’t think of anything, so she took the initiative to offer her hair up again.

Lin Yuewei said, “I’m not playing anymore.” With that, she walked away and returned to the bedroom.

Gu Yanqiu chased after her. “Don’t be angry.”

Lin Yuewei flopped down somewhere else. “I’m not angry; I just don’t know what to do, so I can’t get into anything.”

Gu Yanqiu’s gaze landed on the computer in the corner of the room. “Want to play a computer game?”

Lin Yuewei didn’t move. “What game?” Minesweeper?

Gu Yanqiu turned on the computer. It booted quickly. She never played computer games; the only thing she had ever touched was bridge, so she naturally searched the web and downloaded the online bridge client she usually used.

“You like playing bridge, don’t you?” Gu Yanqiu pointed at the computer. “I downloaded it for you.”

The moment Lin Yuewei saw the icon from a distance, her scalp prickled. How had Gu Yanqiu managed to download exactly the one she usually used? She quickly refused. “I don’t play the online version.”

“Oh.” Gu Yanqiu said, “Then watch me play?” Since it was already downloaded, Gu Yanqiu was a little itchy to play.

Lin Yuewei said, “Sure.” As long as she didn’t have to play, everything was fine.

Gu Yanqiu logged in and started a game. Lin Yuewei went to get a pear and walked over, standing behind her chair and eating while she watched. After one round, she felt that Gu Yanqiu had been too modest earlier when she said she was of average level; this was practically king-level play. She could clearly build an offline bridge circle all on her own.

Gu Yanqiu’s partner this hand was fairly decent. After the game, she followed her usual habit and sent the other person an in-platform message: Very impressive.

Lin Yuewei caught sight of her ID from that and dropped the pear core onto the floor.

Gu Yanqiu helped her pick it up and threw it into the trash before asking, “What’s wrong?”

Lin Yuewei didn’t answer. She took Gu Yanqiu’s phone and said with barely concealed panic, “Log into your QQ.”

Gu Yanqiu was baffled. Since she hadn’t logged in for a long time, she entered the wrong password twice before getting in and handing it over. Lin Yuewei’s fingers trembled as she switched to her alt account on her own phone and sent out a message.

Then a new message appeared on Gu Yanqiu’s phone.

Lin Yuewei stared at the screen, her expression blank. Gu Yanqiu leaned over in confusion and looked:

[Weed: ???]

Gu Yanqiu was astonished. She looked up at Lin Yuewei. “It was you?”

Author’s note: But Miss Gu still doesn’t know that Miss Lin’s crush is actually her, la la la.

Miss Gu: I just thought she was a normal online friend.

After she found out, Miss Gu: Did I look this ugly? Were you blind before? [frowns]