Chapter 20

In the dream, they were lying together on a bed, with Lin Xianing pillowed on her arm. She didn’t move a muscle.

Her arm was growing more and more numb until it lost all sensation.

It was so uncomfortable that Le Yiqiu unconsciously shifted her arm. She wasn’t even aware that she’d done it.

The motion jolted her awake. Only then did she realize she was still in the car, her hand pinned beneath her and numb from the pressure.

Le Yiqiu stared blankly. “…”

She sat up straight and stretched lazily, shaking off the last dregs of sleep. Twisting around, she scanned for Lin Xianing.

Lin Xianing had shifted to a seat by the folding table. She was sipping coffee, headphones on, watching a movie.

Le Yiqiu’s movements weren’t exactly subtle, and they drew Lin Xianing’s attention. She glanced back.

Le Yiqiu’s eyes were still bleary and unfocused, her expression adorably dazed and innocent.

Lin Xianing couldn’t help curving her lips in a smile at the endearing sight. Then she grew serious. “Awake?”

“Have we arrived?”

Le Yiqiu pushed herself up and drew back the curtains. They were already in the city.

She wasn’t familiar with the roads, though, so she had no idea exactly where.

“Almost. Ten more minutes.”

The high-speed train had taken half an hour, and the drive over an hour, so they hadn’t slept long.

Even so, the short nap had refreshed them. Lin Xianing’s complexion looked much improved.

Before long, the car pulled up near the apartment complex. Le Yiqiu blinked in confusion. Why had they come to her place first?

Lin Xianing was clearly more exhausted. They should have dropped her off at home first.

But once the luggage was unloaded, Le Yiqiu changed her mind.

Lin Xianing was going to stay at her place? Weren’t they supposed to get divorced? Wasn’t living together awkward? Actually, it sounded pretty great.

Le Yiqiu’s heart fluttered with a mix of bewilderment and excitement. This would be alone time—no, cohabitation. How could she not be thrilled?

Lin Xianing seemed to sense her confusion. “The crew’s shooting in a nearby complex. It’s just a few minutes’ walk. Staying here is convenient.”

More importantly, relatives and friends might drop by over the next few days. If they were filming right nearby but staying apart, it could stir up some gossip.

Lin Xianing had no intention of mentioning the visitors to Le Yiqiu. For some reason, she just didn’t want to.

If Le Yiqiu knew, she probably wouldn’t be this happy. She might even feel a little uncomfortable.

No point bringing it up, then.

Once the luggage was hauled downstairs, Lin Xianing sent Chen Tao off to rest.

As her assistant, Chen Tao rose earlier than Lin Xianing and went to bed later. She was always monitoring her condition and coordinating with the crew.

Lin Xianing didn’t travel with a manager, so Chen Tao handled all that.

She preferred not to have too many people around her, aside from essential events. Her usual entourage was just Chen Tao and a driver who doubled as a bodyguard.

Of course, they commanded high salaries for juggling multiple roles.

After Chen Tao and the driver left, Le Yiqiu stood there awkwardly.

Would they share a room? Or sleep separately?

To her surprise, Lin Xianing wheeled the clothes into her bedroom and glanced back at her frozen in place. “Help out.”

“Ah? Oh, sure.”

Le Yiqiu kept a calm facade, but inside she was screaming.

Were they going to sleep together? Same room? Same bed?

Wasn’t that too fast?

Her mind buzzed with questions, and she could barely hide her excitement.

She trailed after Lin Xianing as they unpacked the suitcases, hanging the clothes one by one in the closet.

The closet at home was huge, like a mini walk-in wardrobe. When the doors swung open, it was mostly empty save for a few casual pieces. There was easily nine-tenths of the space free.

Once Lin Xianing’s clothes were added, it was packed full, suddenly brimming with life.

Everything was sorted by season and color, creating a visually soothing effect.

Did Lin Xianing have OCD?

Le Yiqiu stood by the closet, beaming with satisfaction. This was straight out of her dreams.

Her own clothes could be sparse, but her wife’s needed to fill every inch.

If the closet wasn’t enough, they could clear out a room for a proper dressing room.

Her place was a three-bedroom, two-bath apartment. One room for her, one for Lin Xianing, a study, and plenty of gaming gear.

No wonder a twenty-eight-year-old like her could happily hole up at home for days. Le Yiqiu could do the same.

Work hard, then game. Game too much, crash out. The day flies by.

It took a toll on the body, though. During her time in Film and TV City, she’d eased back into her old workout routine—booking a court for some ball, that sort of thing.

Exercise to stay fit, then veg out. Sounded blissful.

Lost in these thoughts, Le Yiqiu suddenly caught a wave of fragrance wafting toward her.

It was crisp and cool, like the scent of tea in early spring or lotus after a sudden chill rain. It hit her brain like a drug, leaving her dazed and intoxicated, unable to think straight.

Lin Xianing gave her a puzzled look. “???”

She’d finished unpacking and wanted to head out, but Le Yiqiu was blocking the doorway, staring vacantly. Lin Xianing reached out and flicked her forehead.

Le Yiqiu winced and clutched her forehead, baffled as to why she’d been hit.

“I need to get out,” Lin Xianing said helplessly. This girl hadn’t been this airheaded before.

She spaced out at the drop of a hat, and her reactions were sluggish.

Le Yiqiu nodded vigorously and stepped aside. “Sorry.”

Every time she was around Lin Xianing, she turned into a total fangirl. It was like she had Jianglin lovebrain.

Some people turned silly around their crushes because every little gesture captivated them.

In that honeymoon phase, the heart fluttered a bit more each day, building from like to love to deep devotion.

Le Yiqiu had never dated, but that didn’t mean she was clueless. Her heart-pounding reactions were crystal clear.

Every time she got close to Lin Xianing, that thrill and joy welled up. Just thinking of her lifted her mood. It all screamed that her feelings were real.

“I’m going to shower,” Lin Xianing said, rolling her stiff shoulders. Days of nonstop filming had worn even her down.

Le Yiqiu murmured agreement and grabbed some clothes to shower too.

The apartment had two bathrooms. Lin Xianing used the en suite in the master, while Le Yiqiu headed to the guest one.

The shower spray cleared her head in a rush.

The drive had exhausted her, leaving her in a fog. She’d trailed Lin Xianing like a shadow, “helping” without lifting a finger.

She’d been so hyped inside moments ago, but now, stone-cold sober, the idea of sharing a bed mortified her.

Le Yiqiu wavered. Should she suggest Lin Xianing take the room alone? It’d make her seem more reserved.

Her so-called reserve was just shyness over the weird vibe after they both showered. The thought alone was embarrassing.

Young couples cohabiting often showered at the same time, like something might happen.

Le Yiqiu flushed at the idea.

…

In summer, post-shower attire tended to be light.

But Le Yiqiu’s pajamas were silk long-sleeves and pants, designed to ward off chills from the AC.

Her grandmother had taught her that. Summers were hot, but blasting cold air required caution to avoid catching a chill.

It sounded like old wives’ tales, but since it came from Grandma, Le Yiqiu took it as gospel.

Lin Xianing’s outfit, by contrast, was breezy—a nightdress that skimmed her thighs, exposing long, slender, pale legs that hit like a visual punch.

In private, there was no need to be prim, but Le Yiqiu felt her nose tingle, like something might drip down.