Xu Yueliang pulled Lin Qimian out of the dance floor, her grip on Lin Qimian’s wrist surprisingly firm.
Lin Qimian’s gaze settled on her. The kaleidoscopic lights played across Xu Yueliang’s head, flickering in time with the bounce of her little braids.
Such moments were rare—even in countless sleepless dreams, moments like this seldom came.
Xu Yueliang led the way ahead of her, her posture forceful and urgent, drawing Lin Qimian along.
Lin Qimian had no choice but to follow her footsteps. She could only follow.
They broke away from the teeming crowd, weaving through scattered stares, heading off in some unknowable direction.
Xu Yueliang clutched her hand tightly as they circled the booth area. Her steps faltered for a moment, then she marched toward the bar without a backward glance.
She waited until the pretty bartender finished mixing a drink, then leaned in close and whispered, “You have private rooms here, right?”
The bartender arched an eyebrow, eyeing the young woman before her, then glancing at Lin Qimian, who was being dragged along behind.
With a leisurely squeak of the cloth against a tall stemmed glass, she replied, “Private rooms are for adults only.”
Xu Yueliang’s face flushed crimson all the way to the roots of her neck. “Thanks for the compliment! I am an adult~”
The bartender held out her hand. “ID…”
Xu Yueliang patted her side in a panic. “It’s in my bag—the bag is…”
Lin Qimian finally stepped forward, interrupting their exchange. “Please, miss, stop teasing her.”
The bartender laughed and beckoned over a server. “Take them upstairs.”
Her voice carried clearly enough that nearly everyone at the bar turned to look.
Xu Yueliang ducked her head, her whole body burning with embarrassment, but she didn’t shrink away. She hurried after the server, her strides long and eager.
Lin Qimian let herself be led along obediently until they reached the elevators and rode up to the second floor.
The second floor was far quieter. The frenzied music from below had dulled into a deep vibration, the floor thrumming rhythmically beneath their feet.
Xu Yueliang drew in slow, deliberate breaths, trying to quell the fire raging inside her. But the hallway was too short; they arrived at the room all too soon.
The server pushed open the door, gave a few quick instructions, and withdrew.
She had switched on only a single dim lamp, its faint glow just enough to make out the silhouettes of the room’s furnishings.
A massive sofa dominated the space, flanked by a coffee table stocked with beers and an overhead projector.
It felt more like a karaoke lounge than anything else.
Xu Yueliang took another deep breath and finally released her grip on Lin Qimian’s wrist.
She gestured for Lin Qimian to sit, then picked up the drink menu from the table. “Do you want anything else?”
Lin Qimian reached for a bottle of mineral water, twisted off the cap, and took a sip. “I’m a bit thirsty. Water’s fine.”
A bit thirsty… Xu Yueliang glanced over. Lin Qimian was perched on the sofa, elbows resting on her knees in a slight forward lean that pulled her neckline even lower.
The faint light danced across her snow-white skin like stars twinkling in the night sky.
Xu Yueliang swallowed unconsciously. She was thirsty too.
“Water’s a good choice,” she said, tossing aside the menu and grabbing a bottle for herself. She took a long swig. “Too much booze and you’ll end up wasted~~”
She downed nearly half the bottle in one go.
Lin Qimian leaned back, watching her.
There was something bold and unselfconscious about the way Xu Yueliang stood there chugging water, like she was knocking back a beer. It nearly drew a laugh from Lin Qimian.
But as the smile tugged at her lips, she forced it back down. This wasn’t the time for levity.
One laugh, and the tension would shatter—like a bowstring drawn taut with an arrow nocked, only for Lin Qimian to let it slacken before the shot.
She lowered her gaze, schooled her expression, and looked up again.
Xu Yueliang had finished her water—clearly parched, judging by how much she’d drunk. She licked her lips afterward, leaving them glossy and shimmering in the low light, impossible to ignore.
Lin Qimian watched her, then prompted, “When do we start?”
Impatience gnawed at her. She was eager to test her suspicions, to peer into Xu Yueliang’s thoughts, to discover whether that promise to “dance just for you” had been a fleeting whim… or if she had finally tumbled into Lin Qimian’s trap.
“Ah, right, okay—right away…” Xu Yueliang stammered, flustered as if she’d just been handed a work assignment.
She set down the empty bottle and glanced around. “No music…”
Lin Qimian opened her mouth to respond, but Xu Yueliang held up a finger. “I got it!!!”
She dashed to the coffee table, snatched up the remote, and fired up the projector. “The server said we can sync it to the downstairs music—get the full club vibe right here in the room…”
Lin Qimian: “…”
Xu Yueliang completed the connection, and a familiar rhythm blasted from the speakers. The ceiling lights in the private room began firing colorful beams, while the projection screen shifted to a slideshow of dancing crowd silhouettes.
Xu Yueliang called out, “Since I said I dance better than them, we have to use the same music. Fair competition!”
Lin Qimian: “…”
So this was all for that little spark of competitive pride in your professional domain?
Lin Qimian’s head started buzzing again, and this time she truly couldn’t muster a laugh.
She leaned back, sinking deep into the sofa as her mind went blank.
Xu Yueliang, meanwhile, got serious—like she was back in the live streaming room. She stepped back two paces, struck a starting pose with her toes lightly tapping the floor. Once she locked into the rhythm, she tossed her head up and dove right in.
She really did practice dance year-round. Even with unfamiliar music and style, she could improvise at an astonishingly high level.
It was a cheerful, upbeat track, and Xu Yueliang matched it with joyful expressions and moves.
Dressed in something so sexy and slouchy, she danced with radiant energy, like a cheerleader firing up the crowd.
Lin Qimian finally cracked a smile. Xu Yueliang was just too adorable.
Even through a screen in the live streaming room, filtered and distant, she could make Lin Qimian feel utterly at ease. And now? Infinitely more so.
This close. This singular.
Xu Yueliang was right there before her—no lens warping her image. She was solid and three-dimensional, warm to the touch, carrying her own scent.
Warm. Fragrant. No horde of viewers clamoring in a chat. Just her eyes on Lin Qimian. Just for her.
As the music faded toward its close, Xu Yueliang readied her finishing sequence.
But downstairs had other ideas. The very next moment, the beat surged back louder and fiercer, catching her completely off guard.
She fumbled to link her moves and promptly lost her footing.
She staggered two steps but swiftly synced back up, her motions accelerating. Her composure shattered from the slip-up.
She laughed helplessly, mortified to her core.
Her cheeks burned a rosy pink—part bashfulness, part the healthy flush of exertion.
Lin Qimian was in stitches too. Wave after wave of music poured on, forcing Xu Yueliang to improvise two full new routines. She glanced at Lin Qimian, professionalism abandoned, and blurted, “Oh my god… why won’t it end…?”
Lin Qimian cleared her throat, reining in her grin. “Everyone downstairs is still bouncing. Of course it can’t stop now.”
Xu Yueliang clutched her skirt hem and swung it side to side, defiant. “Then neither can I.”
Lin Qimian leaned forward slightly. “Moon, are you happy?”
Luo Fushui had said her voice turned enchanting when she said a name, so Lin Qimian laced the question with her most captivating tone—lower, richer, softer.
The music blared on, but Xu Yueliang caught every word. Her face froze for an instant, clearly blindsided by the question.
“Happy, yeah.” Instead of stepping back, she advanced, closing the gap to Lin Qimian. “Super happy to be out having fun with Doctor Lin~~”
Lin Qimian tilted her head up. “These past few days—happy? Today—happy? Even downstairs earlier—happy?”
Xu Yueliang’s feet ground to a halt. Her arms swung on mechanically.
At last, the song wrapped up. The music cut out, plunging the room into a silence where breaths were audible.
Perfect timing.
The hush of the track. The hush of Xu Yueliang.
Heaven itself seemed poised for an answer—one crystal clear or shattering enough to end things.
Xu Yueliang stood rooted, dazed, just a step from Lin Qimian.
The vibrant dancing dynamo had morphed into a listless doll, her chest the only thing heaving, in and out.
Finally, she spoke. “These past few days… not so happy. Work’s been crazy busy… haven’t even messaged Doctor Lin…”
Lin Qimian’s heart gave a little leap.
Xu Yueliang gazed at her, eyes drifting aside, unable to meet hers head-on. Calling her Doctor Lin felt like addressing some outsider—just to get the words out.
“Today’s been happy, ’cause I’m out playing with Doctor Lin~~ But earlier… not happy. Doctor Lin wouldn’t talk to me, made me watch the others, then ditched me to go dance…”
Her voice grew more plaintive with every word. Her fingers twisted in her clothes. Her lashes fluttered, and her eyes misted over, veiled in haze.
“But they don’t dance as good as me.” Xu Yueliang bit her lip, the pivot resolute. “So I have to show Doctor Lin—I’m the best!”
Lin Qimian’s fingers twitched. She desperately wanted to pull her into her arms.
Pull her close and knead her fiercely, to make her understand that in Lin Qimian’s world, no one could outshine her.
She was so incredible, she was driving Lin Qimian out of her mind.
The music started up again.
This time, it was a slow, sultry song.
A husky female voice sang softly of irresistible allure, of obsession and delirium.
“I can do this too…” Xu Yueliang whispered. She didn’t back away any further. Right there in front of Lin Qimian, in the narrow gap between the sofa and the coffee table, she gently opened herself up.
Lin Qimian had watched Xu Yueliang’s late-night performances countless times. She’d thought those were the sexiest poses Xu Yueliang could muster.
Now she realized she’d been wrong. In those shows, Xu Yueliang had probably only used a tenth of her body, a tenth of her gaze.
What Xu Yueliang was capable of was far more shocking than anything she’d done before.
Lin Qimian even suspected that if there were cameras right now, a super moderator would ban her account in a single second.
But there were no cameras. No live streaming room. No censorship.
In this sealed, private space, Xu Yueliang’s eyes turned smoky with seduction, and the flush on her cheeks shifted from girlish embarrassment to blatant invitation.
Lin Qimian nearly sank into a dream. Only by surrendering to that dream could she keep her own body slumped lazily into the sofa, holding back from any reckless moves.
Yet with a soft beat of the music, Xu Yueliang crossed the final sliver of distance between them. She lifted one thigh and knelt on the sofa beside Lin Qimian.
Xu Yueliang tumbled into Lin Qimian’s dream as well.
Her palm came to rest near Lin Qimian’s ear, her fingertips grazing her cheek in the lightest of touches.
When those fingertips trailed to Lin Qimian’s shoulder, nudging the shirt collar aside to bare her skin, the contact burned like fire.
Her other leg knelt up too, and Xu Yueliang pressed her entire body into Lin Qimian’s embrace.
But the music played on, and Xu Yueliang still held that tiny gap, preventing their full contact.
Lin Qimian squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. Unable to meet that gaze any longer, she let her eyes drift downward.
What she saw was Xu Yueliang’s bonelessly supple waist, swaying gently like seductive vines undulating underwater.
Lower still, layers of fluffy skirt—soft, yet far too short.
The hidden spaces and the exposed ones alike pumped pure adrenaline straight into Lin Qimian’s heart.
Lin Qimian let out a long, shuddering breath. Xu Yueliang’s body swayed unsteadily.
As she teetered backward, Lin Qimian wouldn’t let her fall. At last, she gripped her waist.
The touch was supple and warm. Xu Yueliang froze on the spot, every movement grinding to a halt.
The music kept going, but she stayed there, straddling Lin Qimian’s body on her knees.
Lin Qimian looked up at her. Xu Yueliang’s eyes were panicked, brimming with a sheen of moisture.
Lin Qimian tightened her grip on her waist, her voice hoarse as she spoke. “You danced beautifully. Better than anyone.”
Xu Yueliang didn’t pull away or shift. She met Lin Qimian’s gaze steadily, then suddenly bit her lower lip. “Then, Doctor Lin… did you enjoy it?”
Lin Qimian laughed. She laughed until her head dropped, her body trembling lightly.
The tremor rippled straight into Xu Yueliang, turning her red as a drunken boiled shrimp.
Lin Qimian’s hands tightened. This position had to be exhausting for Xu Yueliang.
She sank down with Lin Qimian’s guidance, settling onto her lap—or more precisely, onto her.
She could even feel Lin Qimian’s phone in her pocket, pressing against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.
“Pretty enjoyable,” Lin Qimian said, her eyes shimmering with desire. She no longer resembled the proper, composed Doctor Lin.
“But not enough,” she added. “Do it again.”
