Chapter 27: Secret Part 2

Freshly showered female celebs always reeked of paradise. This living room might as well have been the Cave of Silken Webs.

At least, that’s how it struck Qiu Siyuan.

The director Yan Muyu had summoned never even crossed the threshold. She glanced at the live stream timer: five minutes left.

Through her earphones, Qiu Siyuan could overhear the guests hashing things out. Yan Muyu had planned to team up with Pei Wan for a tricycle run to the market.

But Qiu Chao spoke up. “I’ll go with you.”

Yan Muyu let out an “Ah?” “No need for you to bother.”

Qiu Chao pressed. “Worried about me? Want me to sleep in a bit?”

The words landed oddly. Everyone at the table whipped their heads around.

【…Help, that tone feels so familiar. My college senpai used to talk like that.】

【Don’t tease if you won’t marry her!】

【Now I get why Yan Muyu’s pissed.】

【Qiu Chao fresh out of the bath is stunning… Her raw beauty is unreal. No wonder she blew up overnight back then.】

Yan Muyu didn’t fly off the handle. She replied coolly, “Yingxue says Pei Wan’s super capable.”

【Shots fired at Qiu Chao being useless!】

【Qiu Chao’s always been kinda useless… Even as her decade-long fan, I admit it.】

【What capability does buying veggies even take?】

【Well, Xi Xi sure as hell ain’t doing market runs. Heard after years of marriage, that scumbag ex did all the cooking…】

【Scumbag doing the cooking? They had no housekeeper or anything—don’t buy his pity-party essay.】

【So what if a beauty’s rich enough to have people wait on her?】

Qiu Chao shot back, “Scared I won’t meet your standards?”

Ding Yingxue, mid-sip of water, nearly choked and sprayed it everywhere.

Pei Wan patted her back.

Liu Song still played the innocent card, nudging Xi Xi to peel off the mask and tapping the clock.

Yan Muyu rubbed her temples, her head pounding. “Can you not be so crude?”

She sighed. “It’s just groceries. Is all this drama really necessary?”

She flipped through her handwritten schedule. “Someone with chronic insomnia should catch more shut-eye anyway.”

Yan Muyu delivered the line casually, but it carried a subtle tenderness and easy familiarity that felt foreign to Qiu Chao. In an instant, it unlocked a vault of long-buried memories.

One day during those four years of her contractual romance with Yan Kai.

Yan Muyu’s concern for her.

Just like this.

Back then, though, Yan Muyu had truly seen her as a sister-in-law.

Even suspecting Yan Kai was using Qiu Chao as a stand-in for Zhen Shu, Yan Muyu knew he and Zhen Shu were ancient history. She wanted Yan Kai to find real happiness and treated Qiu Chao with sincere kindness.

They’d rarely crossed paths in those days.

During breaks from studying abroad, if Qiu Chao had an open schedule, Yan Muyu would whisk her away for some R&R.

To the outside world, Yan Kai had spoiled Qiu Chao rotten those four years—luxury brand deals, exclusive events, flower-strewn red carpets, the works.

But the one who truly filled the void in Qiu Chao’s lonely heart was Yan Muyu’s quiet care.

That rainy-day gamble on a rickety cable car through the misty mountains.

The sports car blasting through the undersea tunnel, freezing a perfect smile at the empty scenic overlook.

She had been genuinely good to her.

Too bad Qiu Chao hadn’t wanted that sister-in-law treatment.

She’d wanted Yan Muyu herself.

【Why does that line sound kinda flirty?】

【And the cooking bit…】

【I feel dirty, but this is giving romance show vibes. I’m shipping the almost-sisters-in-law, doomed to end in heartbreak.】

【Qiu Chao’s wild one minute, airheaded the next. She’s different around Yan Muyu.】

【Makes sense—they almost became family.】

Qiu Chao murmured on instinct, “You’re concerned about me?”

Even as a whisper, it rang out clear as day in the room.

Ding Yingxue held her tongue. She’d always sensed an aura of profound isolation around the senior she idolized.

Top-tier actors had that effect. Just sitting there, they embodied a whole narrative.

Layers of hard-earned experience shaping a jaded worldview—one glance enough to stir nostalgia and the urge to pry.

A craving to strip away every veil and uncover the real enigma beneath.

With the mask finally off, Xi Xi studied her reflection in the mirror Liu Song held up obediently.

Qiu Chao’s vibe reminded her of her own younger self, back when love hit her hardest for the first time.

But she dismissed the thought. It couldn’t be.

Everyone knew Yan Muyu went for women, but Qiu Chao was all about men.

Forget almost becoming Yan Muyu’s sister-in-law—she’d dated co-stars before Yan Kai, and her career had been a parade of flings after.

Not even a bisexual pulled that off.

Liu Song couldn’t care less about any of it. Her face the picture of wide-eyed innocence, the genius singer played dutiful mirror-holder.

New viewers stumbling into the stream figured Liu Song was the actual manager.

Who’d ever seen roles reversed like this?

Liu Song knew better than to push. After all these years, she was used to Xi Xi tuning her out.

She excelled at talking herself into a good mood.

As long as Xi Xi didn’t chase after anyone else, she stayed number one.

【Qiu Chao’s voice cracked a little there. What’s going on?】

【Sounds like she’s about to cry… Poor Sister Qiu, so starved for love?】

【Nah, she’s killing it these days.】

【Some kinds of love, fans just can’t provide. Old fans know how rough her road’s been.】

Yan Muyu nodded. “What else? I’m your manager now.”

She might’ve been fuming inside, but she kept it professional.

Yan Muyu added, “Pei Wan and I are both managers. Even on a show like this, we want our artists getting proper rest.”

Her hair was a tousled mess, but with the ceiling fan whirring overhead, the frizz turned into effortless wildness.

Her gaze flickered with fleeting concern—identity be damned. Qiu Chao knew it was real.

Yan Muyu really did care about her.

Pei Wan nodded and turned to Ding Yingxue. “Get some early rest.”

Yan Muyu checked the time. “Finally off air. I’m hitting the shower.”

【Can’t we watch them sleep too?】

【Kinda pervy, but I wanna see celebs snoozing, wahhh.】

The production team stuck to their rigid schedule, though. Cutoff was cutoff.

They’d compile a highlight reel weekly, all handled by HQ editors.

Yan Muyu grabbed her pajamas from her room and took a quick cold shower.

When she emerged, she bumped into Qiu Siyuan noshing on a late-night snack.

Plenty of crew were out there too, huddled around folding tables.

The evening mountain breeze carried a chill. Yan Muyu slid in next to Qiu Siyuan. “What brings you back?”

Late-night eats came in all varieties, but Yan Muyu wasn’t into rabbit food. She grabbed a bowl of cold noodles.

Fresh off the cold rinse, she radiated chill. Qiu Siyuan skipped her question. “Aren’t you worried about catching a cold?”

Yan Muyu grumbled, “If you care that much, install a water heater already. This is ridiculous—first time in my life chopping wood just to boil bathwater.”

Her assistant, Xing Wen, brewed her a mug of cold-prevention tonic.

Qiu Siyuan replied, “Not fun? You’ve never done anything like it.”

Yan Muyu sighed. “So? Didn’t you swear you’d never come back to China?”

Qiu Siyuan said, “Of course I came around.”

The silver-haired director’s voice was gravelly as ever, like she’d gargled with smoke from a bonfire.

That’s how Yan Muyu had always known her.

Her family had money to burn, but she’d come from some backwater town. Switched-at-birth story, apparently—reclaimed at fifteen.

The original “fake” heiress refused to budge, though. Spoiled rotten, she blocked Qiu Siyuan from the city’s top school and got her shipped off to the burbs instead. That’s how she’d ended up in the same class as Yan Muyu.

Birds of a feather, they clicked right away. Neither was big on books, and high school being high school…

They roamed the streets daily, barely scraping by academically.

Yan Muyu genuinely aspired to peak loserdom. Qiu Siyuan played it low-key, hiding her smarts. Instant besties, infamous slackers.

Teachers barely batted an eye—who’d mess with outbound kids?

One jetted to France, the other to Korea.

Both perfectly, naturally gay, with serious artistic chops.

Yan Muyu asked, “For real? You don’t hate her anymore?”

She was talking about that impostor who had swapped lives with Qiu Siyuan.

In Yan Muyu’s memory, the woman had a vicious heart and knew full well that the squeaky wheel gets the grease. Someone like Qiu Siyuan was no match for her, of course. Studying abroad had all been arranged by her hand.

Naturally, there were no family assets for her to inherit.

Still, Yan Muyu hadn’t heard any news about her in ages.

“She’s dead,” said Qiu Siyuan.

Yan Muyu let out a startled “Holy shit!”, nearly jumping out of her skin and giving a passing staff member quite the scare.

“Is that necessary?” asked Qiu Siyuan.

Yan Muyu lowered her voice. “Dead? For real? I always figured she’d live to be a thousand-year scourge. No way she’d go out so young.”

Qiu Siyuan nodded. “It’s true. Hit by a car. She died on the eve of her engagement. The one who hit her was her…”

The summer sky glittered with stars, and even the chirping of insects felt vast and empty.

Qiu Siyuan’s youth had been a raging inferno. It scorched her vocal cords, leaving her nearly mute.

The new family she’d imagined waiting for her never accepted her at all. Blood ties weren’t enough. She had even nearly lost her life there, only to be rescued at the last moment.

The price was her once clear and resonant voice—and the disfigurement of that so-called “benefactor.”

Later, she was transferred to a new school. By some twist of fate, she met Yan Muyu, and for once, she had a youth that felt somewhat like a real one.

“Her fiancé’s ex-girlfriend.”

“That’s straight out of a soap opera,” Yan Muyu said.

“Isn’t life just like that?” said Qiu Siyuan. “Take you and Qiu Chao. Didn’t the two of you end up meeting anyway?”

At the mention of it, Yan Muyu fell silent. It was a long while before she spoke again. “How did you two even meet?”

Qiu Siyuan didn’t seem surprised in the least. “You don’t remember?”

Yan Muyu stared blankly. “Remember what? Speak plainly.”

Qiu Siyuan shook her head. “You’ll figure it out once it comes back to you.”

“I never lost my memory like you did,” Yan Muyu shot back.

“Hey!” Qiu Siyuan protested. “Why do you always have to poke at my sore spots?”

“That doesn’t add up,” said Yan Muyu. “We met in high school. You only got to know Qiu Chao afterward, right?”

Qiu Siyuan said nothing. She just stared at Yan Muyu in silence, her gaze so intense it sent chills down Yan Muyu’s spine.

The next moment, the silver-haired director lifted her chin. “Someone’s here for you.”

Yan Muyu whipped her head around on instinct. There was Qiu Chao, draped in a cardigan over her pajamas, leaning lazily against the doorframe and watching her.

Gasps of admiration rose from the surrounding staff.

What a beauty. What a goddess.

Over the top. Kinda weird.

“Not sleeping yet?” Qiu Chao drawled. “Sneaking midnight snacks?”

Qiu Siyuan let out a chuckle. “I’ve got zero interest in her.”

The explanation carried an odd ambiguity, almost as if it implied Qiu Chao was the one with feelings for Yan Muyu.

Suddenly, Yan Muyu’s cold noodles felt like they were churning in her stomach. She glanced at Qiu Chao, then back at Qiu Siyuan.

In a small voice, she asked, “Were you and Qiu Chao ever… together?”