Chapter 27

That evening, Lin Qimian checked the rankings in the Voyage Group.

After her, two more people had queued up and played games with Xu Yueliang.

Lin Qimian let out a long breath. That night she did nothing else, just lay in bed staring blankly for ages.

The next afternoon, right at quitting time, Weiwei sent a game invite. Lin Qimian recalled Xu Yueliang calmly logging off the day before, paused on the rejection, then replied: 【A bit later.】

【I’m free all evening, 11 Bigshot. Hit me up anytime.】 Weiwei shot back enthusiastically.

Lin Qimian strolled home leisurely. Even the traffic jam on Route 26 didn’t faze her.

Passing the supermarket at the neighborhood entrance, she spotted some fresh fruit out front, pulled over, went in to grab a few things, and only then headed home.

Back at the apartment, she had little interest in her phone. Things had settled back into their old routine—nothing new or exciting to look forward to.

So she took her time cooking dinner, ate her fill, soaked in the tub, and finally messaged Weiwei: 【Play?】

Weiwei replied in seconds: 【On it!】

They hopped into the game, and two more joined the squad—regulars from Weiwei’s Live Streaming Room. The three of them chattered away noisily.

Lin Qimian had nothing to add. She never used voice chat anyway, and now she wasn’t even typing.

They ran two matches with solid results, and Lin Qimian’s rank climbed nicely.

On the third, she begged off with fatigue and logged out.

An Orange push notification lingered at the top of her screen: The streamer you’re following, “Little Moon,” is live…

Lin Qimian stared at it for a long moment before tossing her phone aside.

Were books that dull? Papers that unbearable? Why bother with streams or games?

That night, she finally turned in early, right on schedule.

But all that sleep didn’t recharge her. In the morning mirror, her eyes looked dull and lifeless no matter how she squinted.

Fine. She’d just sleep it off a few more days.

Lin Qimian resolved to hit the sack at ten every night, rise at six for a morning run, and double her workouts. A few days later, she finally felt her energy surging back.

Her thoughts about Xu Yueliang sharpened too. 11 was just one of countless top fans Xu had encountered—she treated her no differently than the rest. Nothing wrong with that.

And Lin herself? She simply couldn’t see Xu Yueliang in real life, so she’d gotten lost in the 11 persona, venting emotions she had nowhere else to unleash.

Xu Yueliang owed z92565611 nothing.

Come the weekend, Weiwei pinged her again for games, adding, “Moon’s in too.”

Lin Qimian clicked the link. Xu Yueliang greeted her without a hint of awkwardness: “Hey, 11~~”

Purely professional—no “long time no see” or anything.

【Hi.】 Lin Qimian replied curtly.

She was terse at the best of times, rarely picking up others’ threads. Weiwei must have gotten used to it, because the whole match was basically her chatting with Xu Yueliang.

They covered recent drama on Orange, new eateries popping up around town. Midway through, Weiwei let out an “Ow!”

“What happened?” Xu Yueliang asked, concerned.

“Just bit into some watermelon…” Weiwei’s voice came muffled. “It’s so cold… my teeth are killing me.”

Xu Yueliang: “Toothache?”

Weiwei: “Yeah, one of them’s all sensitive and zingy.”

Xu Yueliang sounded like an old hand: “Could be a cavity.”

Weiwei: “Oh crap.”

Xu Yueliang: “Cavities aren’t the end of the world. Shallow ones, they just grind ’em down and fill. Deeper? Root canal, then a crown later. All outpatient stuff.”

Weiwei: “How do you know all this? Been through it?”

Xu Yueliang paused. “Didn’t I get that wisdom tooth pulled a while back? The doc ran it all down for me.”

Lin Qimian hadn’t told her that.

Everything Lin Qimian had shared with Xu Yueliang was about her own wisdom tooth that needed pulling.

But Xu had visited Youhai before her, seen a different doctor. Brushing up on the basics made sense.

Lin Qimian crouched behind a rock in the brush, bracing herself.

Just like the netizens in the stream had said: Xu Yueliang got a tooth yanked, met a hot doctor babe, and now any tooth talk looped straight back to her.

Like the woman was some prized family heirloom she couldn’t stop showing off.

Sure enough, after a couple more exchanges, they hit the referral phase.

Xu Yueliang: “You could try the Youhai I went to last time. Place is spotless, prices fair. Weren’t you always griping about your teeth not being straight enough? They do ortho too. Plus they’ve got VIP Wards—if you need an IV drip or a short stay, it’s comfy.”

Weiwei: “How’s the doctor’s technique?”

Xu Yueliang: “Very good. The medical staff are all super attentive too.”

Weiwei: “Alright then, I’ll swing by when I get a chance.”

And with that, the conversation wrapped up.

The conversation actually ended right there.

Lin Qimian lay sprawled on the grass, stock-still. She didn’t even register the footsteps creeping up behind her, or the fact that Xu Yueliang hadn’t breathed a word about the beautiful sister doctor.

They’d talked about Youhai, about getting a tooth pulled, even about the VIP ward and the caring medical staff—but nothing about the beautiful sister doctor.

Why?

She’d brought her up so many times in the live stream. Why clam up now?

Was it because the live stream was full of strangers? Xu Yueliang could rave about the beautiful sister without spilling which hospital or which doctor, turning the whole thing into a fun anecdote, a quirky little character detail?

But now a real friend was actually planning to go, and suddenly she wouldn’t mention the person who’d clearly made such a strong impression. Was she worried her friend might bump into her? And if she did, bring her up?

What would be the harm in that?

Xu Yueliang had sung Doctor Lin’s praises—her skill, her kindness—countless times right to her face. Recommending the hospital to a friend seemed totally normal.

Unless, in Xu Yueliang’s mind, there was something off about Doctor Lin. Something that made her want zero connection once she stepped out of that hospital.

What could be so off?

The mask she always wore. Her overly friendly demeanor. That face of hers… or maybe just the half she showed, the part that felt strangely familiar.

And honestly, anyone could log into the hospital’s booking system or glance at the department’s promo materials and spot Lin Qimian’s photo next to her name.

What made Lin Qimian so dead set on believing Xu Yueliang hadn’t recognized her?

Or, put another way, what made her so convinced that even if Xu Yueliang had recognized her, she’d want to reconnect?

Their history—if you could even call it that—wasn’t history at all. Just one big, awkward mix-up.

Humiliating. Cringe-worthy.

Lin Qimian blinked, her gaze drifting aimlessly into space.

On her phone screen, an enemy popped up. A hail of bullets tore through her back and out her chest.

Her health bar plummeted to zero. Before her teammates could even react, she was done for.

Xu Yueliang yelped, “Hey? What happened on your end, 11?”

【Not playing anymore.】 Lin Qimian typed back.

She chucked the spare phone aside and forgot about it.

Two hours later, Xu Yueliang fired up her usual stream. Lin Qimian was curled up on the sofa, half-watching TV, when her father called.

“Hello, President Lin,” Lin Qimian said.

Lin Haisen scolded under his breath, “That’s no way to greet someone.”

Lin Qimian: “President Lin, do you need something? If not, I’m hanging up.”

Lin Haisen: “What’s with you, kid? Can’t a father call his daughter just to chat?”

Lin Qimian stayed silent, her answer clear enough.

Lin Haisen paused, then softened. “Look, we’re family. It’s been forever since we all sat down for a meal. Xuanxuan’s back in town this week. Come over tonight—Dad’ll take you girls out somewhere nice.”

Lin Qimian: “You all eat as a family. I won’t crash the party.”

“You’re family too!” Lin Haisen’s voice sharpened. “Xuanxuan picked out a gift just for you—spent ages choosing it. Even if you can’t stand Auntie Zhao, you can’t just brush off Xuanxuan’s feelings…”

Lin Qimian gave a small smile. She tilted her head back, staring at the ceiling as the TV’s flickering lights played across it like some eerie abstract painting.

Another call buzzed in. Lin Qimian glanced over—Huang Xiaoyi on hold.

Perfect timing.

“President Lin, something came up. Gotta go,” she told her father.

Without waiting for a reply, she hung up and switched to Huang Xiaoyi’s line.

“What’s up?” Lin Qimian asked, her voice all lazy drawl.

Huang Xiaoyi: “Beautiful weekend~ What else could it be~~? Just seeing what you’re up to. I’ve got a list of restaurants dying for my grand entrance. Oh, and Mom sent over this spicy beef jerky—it smells amazing, like I’m right back in Middle School…”

Middle School.

Why did everything today loop back to Middle School?

A lightbulb went off in Lin Qimian’s head. She burst out laughing. “Xiao Yi, your auntie sent you jerky that good—don’t you wanna head home and see her?”

Huang Xiaoyi: “Totally! But I was just there last month, and Mom said not to come back so often; it wears me out…”

Lin Qimian: “Won’t wear you out. I’ll drive.”

Huang Xiaoyi: “Huh?”

Lin Qimian: “I’ve gotta head back to Z City anyway. You in?”

Huang Xiaoyi: “YES!!!!!”

Lin Qimian didn’t invite her out much, and hey—this was a free ride to boot.

Huang Xiaoyi agreed right away, already pondering what to bring back with her.

“Half an hour,” Lin Qimian said. “I’ll pick you up at your doorstep.”

“That fast! Great, great!!!” Huang Xiaoyi exclaimed.

After hanging up, Lin Qimian sent a message to her father: 【Dinner’s fine. I’ll wait for you at the Old Mansion.】

They arrived in Z City just as the sun dipped below the horizon.

Lin Qimian dropped Huang Xiaoyi off at her home, where her mother was waiting at the door. Huang Xiaoyi rushed into her mother’s embrace, and the two of them invited Lin Qimian inside for dinner.

“No, thank you, Auntie,” Lin Qimian replied politely. “I need to head back too.”

Her mother nodded understandingly. “Of course, your family must be waiting.”

Lin Qimian smiled and drove away.

No one was waiting for her at home—only an empty, ice-cold house awaited.

It was the first villa Lin Haisen had bought after making his fortune: spacious and ostentatious, with gardens and a swimming pool fore and aft, and dozens of vacant rooms.

Even when unoccupied, it was tended by dedicated staff. The garden bloomed lushly, lined on both sides with rows of jade hairpin flowers, their translucent petals releasing a faint, alluring fragrance.

Lin Qimian entered the grand hall and settled onto the gleaming European-style sofa, pulling out her phone to browse.

Several restaurants she’d frequented in Middle School were still open, their signature dishes largely unchanged.

She placed an order for dinner and texted her father: 【Food’s all ready. Just show up.】

Half an hour later, darkness had fallen.

Lin Qimian switched on every light in the hall, bathing the house in brilliant glow. The delivery arrived soon after, filling the long dining table.

Only then did she head upstairs. The house was vast, its rooms innumerable; she flicked on lights as she went, her footsteps creaking on the carved rosewood staircase.

Her bedroom remained unchanged—a room with perfect orientation, flooded with sunlight by day. At night, she could throw open the windows to the arched balcony and gaze at the moon, imagining herself a princess imprisoned in a castle.

She had a princess bed and a princess’s vanity.

She had a princess’s treasure chest. When she opened it, it brimmed with her cherished mementos.

A jar of colorful candy wrappers. A bag of potato chips long gone stale. A stack of pink letters. And a photo frame inset with a black-and-white picture.

She lifted out the frame and closed the chest.

Carrying it downstairs, she set it on the dining table. In the photo, her mother gazed gently from beneath soft brows, a faint smile touching her lips.

This was the Middle School she remembered—the family that shared dinner together every day.