Yan Qingxu’s tears fell with such heartbreaking beauty that anyone watching couldn’t help feeling a surge of pity. But the moment they saw her open mouth…
Even her crying was so childlike.
Jiang Shumo had seen aggrieved children before—they cried just like this, mouths wide open, bawling their eyes out with faces streaked in red around their eyes and noses, sobbing their hearts out in utter devastation.
Yan Qingxu was much the same, except her teardrops fell more prettily than theirs.
—All the glamour and allure of a stunning, seductive beauty was shattered.
Seeing her crying so miserably with her mouth agape, Jiang Shumo felt a mix of amusement and exasperation. But everyone knew it was deeply unethical to laugh while someone was crying their heart out, so she held it back.
Considering that Yan Qingxu probably didn’t want to be seen shedding tears in front of her, Jiang Shumo tactfully prepared to leave. “…You cry first. I’ll go deliver the dumplings to Director Ji.”
It would be better to give Yan Qingxu some space to sort out her emotions alone.
She had just lifted her leg to step away when Yan Qingxu’s cries grew even louder.
“Aowah—”
Jiang Shumo: “???”
Seriously? What kind of female celebrity cared so little about her image? Wailing like a banshee right there in the hotel corridor, with zero regard for her public persona.
As Jiang Shumo hesitated, unsure what to do, Yan Qingxu suddenly snatched the two insulated containers from her arms.
For all her heartbroken sobbing, her movements didn’t miss a beat.
“???”
Jiang Shumo froze for a second before realizing she’d taken Director Ji Hong’s share too. “Hey—”
But one glance at Yan Qingxu’s tear-blurred face, and Jiang Shumo shut her mouth.
Whatever. She could just portion out another serving for Ji Hong later.
Jiang Shumo yielded. “Fine, you eat them. I won’t disturb you anymore.”
She turned to leave and had taken just one step when she felt something tugging at her.
Looking down along the pull, Jiang Shumo saw two pale, slender fingers hooked around the belt of her coat.
—It was Yan Qingxu.
Yan Qingxu didn’t speak, just kept crying to herself. One arm clutched the insulated containers while the other hand stubbornly gripped her belt, refusing to let go.
Jiang Shumo: “…”
Jiang Shumo’s heart softened. “Alright, I won’t go, okay? Let’s get inside quick. Aren’t you afraid of someone seeing you crying in the corridor?”
Yan Qingxu’s sobs didn’t quiet at all. She backed into the room a couple of steps but still wouldn’t release Jiang Shumo’s belt.
Jiang Shumo was pulled along with her. Even a fool could guess what that meant.
With no other choice, Jiang Shumo stepped fully into the room on her own. “Okay, okay, stop pulling. You’re going to yank my belt right off.”
Only once she was inside did Yan Qingxu let go of the belt. She hugged the containers close and headed deeper into the room.
The production crew had booked them the best rooms available. Yan Qingxu’s suite was much like her own, just with the furniture arranged a bit differently.
Perhaps she’d cried herself out, because Yan Qingxu’s sobs had quieted somewhat. She made a beeline for the kitchen, clearly intending to boil the dumplings.
Hearing the cries soften, Jiang Shumo finally asked, “Feeling better?”
“Ao—”
The sobs, which had just started to taper off, suddenly spiked again, as if she’d prodded a raw nerve. Jiang Shumo was caught off guard.
She’d only asked one question!
She shouldn’t have said anything.
Jiang Shumo didn’t dare speak again. She could only wait for the crying to subside before trying to talk. Restraining herself, she glanced toward the living room and noticed some lingering, unfixable marks on the sofa. On the coffee table directly opposite sat a stack of A4 papers that looked like the script they’d been using lately.
The pages were covered in all sorts of notes and scribbles—clear evidence of Yan Qingxu’s hard work.
It was New Year’s Eve, and she was still grinding away like this…
It seemed the pressure had really been building on Yan Qingxu these past few days.
Thud, thud, thud—
Footsteps approached from nearby, mingled with sniffles, and came to a stop just two steps from Jiang Shumo.
Jiang Shumo turned to look and saw Yan Qingxu, her eyes and nose red and puffy from crying, gazing at her with utter grievance. Both arms were outstretched toward her in a blatant demand for a hug.
Jiang Shumo: “…?”
Was this… asking for a hug?
Jiang Shumo was a little baffled. “You—”
Did she really want a hug?
“—Hug me!”
Even with her voice hoarse from crying, Jiang Shumo could hear the grievance in it—like a child who’d been wronged outside, finally home but ignored, plaintively demanding, “Why won’t you hug me?”
Amused and helpless, Jiang Shumo could only raise her arms and open them wide.
The instant she did, Yan Qingxu launched herself into her embrace. Her fluffy head burrowed into Jiang Shumo’s chest, arms wrapping tightly around her waist.
Even her hugs were so childish.
Jiang Shumo wasn’t used to close physical contact. As she pondered where to put her hands, Yan Qingxu—impatient with her slowness—freed one hand, grabbed Jiang Shumo’s, and placed it on her lower back. “Hug me!”
Jiang Shumo: “…”
Fine.
Jiang Shumo rested one hand on her head and wrapped the other around her back, holding her like one might comfort a child.
Yan Qingxu tightened her arms in dissatisfaction, her voice muffled. “Hug tighter!”
Jiang Shumo: “…”
What an ancestor she was.
Jiang Shumo sighed and squeezed her arms tighter.
Yan Qingxu wriggled a bit in her embrace, apparently settling into a more comfortable spot, then resumed her quiet sniffles.
Hearing those muffled sounds, Jiang Shumo felt an indescribable emotion stir inside her. She actually envied Yan Qingxu’s ability to cry freely whenever she felt wronged, heedless of others’ gazes—to just let it all out, loud and unashamed.
In the past, she’d heard too many platitudes like “No one cares about your tears” or “The workplace doesn’t believe in tears.” So even when deeply hurt, she’d swallowed her tears, convinced that crying was weak and shameful.
But in truth, people cried when they were sad—not to demand comfort from anyone, but simply to vent the emotion.
A good, cathartic cry, wiping away the tears, then carrying on as usual—it made life brighter and freer.
If even crying couldn’t be done freely, those tears would seep into the heart, festering into illness over time.
“…Why aren’t you saying anything?”
Yan Qingxu’s muffled voice emerged from her chest, pulling Jiang Shumo back to the present.
Jiang Shumo blinked. “What?”
“Why aren’t you comforting me!”
Yan Qingxu lifted her head. Her beautiful eyes were red and swollen, her long hair damp with tears and plastered to her face. She looked utterly disheveled, like a little rabbit soaked from crying.
Jiang Shumo raised an eyebrow. “I don’t even know why you’re crying. Wouldn’t that kind of comfort just be fake?”
She’d only come to knock and deliver dumplings. Yan Qingxu had opened her mouth and started bawling; she still had no idea what was going on.
Come to think of it, she still didn’t know why Yan Qingxu was crying.
“!”
Why was Jiang Shumo so brutally honest?
Yan Qingxu’s brows furrowed. She sniffled, pouting petulantly. “No, you have to comfort me!”
With that, she heedlessly leaned her head on Jiang Shumo’s shoulder and stared blankly at the collar of her shirt.
Whenever she’d cried as a child, her mom would hold her tight. As an adult, she’d grown accustomed to pairing tears with a hug—wrapping herself in a blanket if Mom wasn’t there, or clutching a stuffed toy.
Jiang Shumo might be annoying, but she smelled pretty nice.
Content for the moment, Yan Qingxu nuzzled her shoulder. She waited ages for comfort that never came, then pouted in grievance. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Jiang Shumo asked, “So, why are you crying?”
The voice rumbled from her chest, lower than usual, vibrating right into Yan Qingxu’s ear.
Her ear tingled from the vibration. It took her a beat to process the question. Remembering why she’d started crying in the first place, her earlier shame—washed away by tears—bubbled back up.
These past days, the shooting schedule had been grueling. She’d finally gotten a day off today and wanted to review the character’s personality one more time. But the more she analyzed, the more inadequate she felt. And it was New Year’s Eve, with her parents far away and even Little Beauty unable to keep her company. All those emotions had welled up, and she’d broken down.
Then Jiang Shumo had knocked. Hearing it was dumplings from her family had inexplicably comforted her.
But realizing she’d been soothed by Jiang Shumo’s family dumplings made her feel so pathetic. Her heart had ached, and she’d burst into tears with a wail.
Once started, she couldn’t stop.
Could she tell Jiang Shumo the reason?
Of course not.
Flushing with embarrassment and annoyance, she demanded, “…I want you to comfort me!”
Who asked you to probe why I’m crying?
Jiang Shumo: “…So, are you going to eat the dumplings?”
Yan Qingxu: “!”
“Yes!”
She’d thought she’d never get another chance, but here they were today—a surprise atop a surprise!
Jiang Shumo loosened her hold. The moment she did, her waist was clutched tight again.
“—Hold me! Don’t let go!”
Yan Qingxu loved the feeling of being held tightly in someone’s arms. It was like being a fluffy little animal curled up safe in its burrow, impervious to the raging wind and rain outside—a profound sense of security.
Jiang Shumo said helplessly, “…I need to message my agent.”
She couldn’t free herself at the moment, so she would have to ask Liu Wan to grab another portion and deliver it to Ji Hong.
“You can type with one hand!”
Yan Qingxu didn’t care. She’d already embarrassed herself today, so she might as well demand every bit of comfort she could get.
Jiang Shumo replied, “…But I didn’t bring my phone!”
Who could have foreseen that delivering dumplings to Yan Qingxu would lead to this? She hadn’t bothered taking her phone when she left the house.
“Use mine!” Yan Qingxu wriggled shamelessly in her arms. No way was she letting go!
Jiang Shumo stared at the ceiling in speechless exasperation. How could anyone be so willful? Forget glamorous beauty—this was just a spoiled, clingy crybaby.
With no other choice, Jiang Shumo asked, “Where’s your phone? I’ll grab it.”
“In the pocket of my coat.”
Yan Qingxu didn’t even lift her head or loosen her grip. Clearly, she expected Jiang Shumo to fetch it herself.
“Which pocket?”
“I don’t remember. You’ll have to look.”
Jiang Shumo sighed. She’d sighed more today than in the entire past week.
She glanced down at Yan Qingxu’s coat and fished the phone out of one of the pockets. Leaning back slightly, she tried to hand it over for unlocking.
But the moment Jiang Shumo leaned away, Yan Qingxu bent forward and pressed close again.
Yan Qingxu whined, “Don’t move!”
Jiang Shumo said, “…Unlock it.”
Yan Qingxu stayed put. “Six ones.”
“…”
Fine. She was even handing over her phone password without hesitation.
Jiang Shumo didn’t know what to say. She unlocked Yan Qingxu’s phone.
The screen was highly personalized, with cute icons for all the apps. It took Jiang Shumo a moment to locate the dialer.
Fortunately, she still remembered Liu Wan’s number.
The phone rang three times before it was answered. “Hello?”
Liu Wan’s voice carried a note of confusion—she clearly had no idea who was calling.
Then the familiar voice came through the receiver: “It’s me. I’m calling from Yan Qingxu’s phone.”
Liu Wan paused. “?”
She wanted to ask how Jiang Shumo had ended up using Yan Qingxu’s phone—of course, it had to be because Shumo had forgotten hers or something had gone wrong with it.
But more importantly, hadn’t Shumo just gone to deliver some dumplings? Why was she stuck and unable to leave?
After a moment’s thought, Liu Wan asked tactfully, “Are you okay? Do you need any help?”
Surely she hadn’t run into some kind of trouble?
Hearing this, Jiang Shumo glanced down at the fluffy head inches from her own. “I’m fine. I just can’t get away right now. Could you deliver it for me?”
“…Sure. As long as you’re okay.”
Liu Wan agreed. It was just dumplings, after all—nothing major.
After hanging up, Jiang Shumo locked the phone and slipped it back into Yan Qingxu’s pocket. Noticing that the arms around her waist hadn’t loosened at all, she couldn’t help asking, “How long are you going to hold on?”
She had stopped crying already, so why keep hugging?
Yan Qingxu took a deep breath, as if drawing strength from it. The sound made Jiang Shumo go rigid all over.
Scent was such a personal thing. Even those close to you might find it awkward to have their smell inhaled so directly, let alone someone who wasn’t intimate at all.
Fortunately, Yan Qingxu released her soon after. She gazed up with big, pleading eyes. “I’m hungry.”
Jiang Shumo blinked. “…?”
“There should be supplies downstairs—”
Jiang Shumo’s remaining words died in her throat under the weight of Yan Qingxu’s reddened, imploring stare. “…Why are you looking at me like that?”
Yan Qingxu clutched at her belt and gazed up pitifully. “I want dumplings. Will you cook some for me?”
Jiang Shumo blinked again. “?”
Ten minutes later.
“Woo… so good!”
Yan Qingxu wolfed down the last dumpling and turned her gaze back to Jiang Shumo with wide, hopeful eyes.
“What is it now?”
Jiang Shumo’s head was starting to throb. First the hugging, then the hunger pangs that demanded she cook dumplings—and now this staring?
That said, she hadn’t expected Yan Qingxu to pack away two full portions in one go. The woman could really eat.
With her eyes still red like a bunny’s, Yan Qingxu asked softly, “Auntie at your house is an amazing cook. Can I come over for meals sometime?”
That was it?
Jiang Shumo was speechless.
“…Sure.”
“Yay!!!”
