Chapter 37: The Hairy Moon Part 1

She had kissed Yan Muyu first, so why was she crying now?

Yan Muyu truly couldn’t understand it. Qiu Chao had dared to kiss her so boldly in front of everyone, only to put on that teary-eyed, pitiful expression right after.

But Yan Muyu had always been afraid of crybabies ever since she was little—like her own mother, who seemed to be made entirely of tears.

Even now, in middle age, her mother still loved to cry. Though she had lost all faith in men, she would sob uncontrollably over TV dramas until she was gasping for air and needed oxygen.

It left Yan Muyu utterly speechless. She could only urge the nanny to keep a close eye on her and stick to upbeat romantic comedies.

If that didn’t work, find her a young, handsome man. Age didn’t matter—as long as he could cheer up Lin Yumian and spare Yan Kai from forwarding his mother’s wailing calls to Yan Muyu whenever he was too swamped to deal with them.

Who wouldn’t be bummed out having a date interrupted by their mom’s sobs?

But Yan Muyu had no choice.

Though she was the biological daughter of Lin Yumian—one of the top beauties of her generation—she hadn’t inherited that watery tenderness or the sweet, soft voice.

Yan Muyu’s voice was clear, but it had nothing to do with coldness. It was as if she were born to thrive in the swirling dust of the mortal world: a little coaxing from her could spark deep affection in others, yet she would always stay clear-headed and pull away.

If her ex-girlfriends were to sum up their experiences, they would say that tears and drama worked best on her.

But Qiu Chao hadn’t had deep conversations with any of Yan Muyu’s exes, nor had she mustered the resolve to try that approach.

With Qiu Chao’s talents, she could cry on cue effortlessly—her clips online always featured those god-tier, misty-eyed moments.

Yet she refused to perform in front of Yan Muyu.

She could fake it with anyone else, but not with her. Ten-plus years of pent-up emotions made her tears utterly genuine.

Just like now, with her heart aching and swelling, all thoughts flooded back to their first meeting and that hazy, disoriented Yan Muyu.

Qiu Siyuan had later told her that Yan Muyu was different from others.

She had zero tolerance for alcohol—even sparkling drinks could leave her blissfully dazed, yet she seemed more normal drunk than sober.

Seventeen-year-old Qiu Chao hadn’t known that. She had seen it as the thrilling opening to a drama that could outshine any TV show.

She had even fantasized about running into Yan Muyu again someday, only for her to gently take her hand once more.

But in the four years of her contractual agreement with Yan Kai, Qiu Chao had tested Yan Muyu’s constitution for herself.

She’d had plenty of opportunities but let them all pass.

The agreement wasn’t just a promise to Yan Kai—it was Qiu Chao’s last line in the sand.

And yet she had never told Yan Muyu about it. She knew all too well that Yan Muyu was like a kite cut loose: impossible to catch or reel back in.

Qiu Chao wanted to seize that trailing string, wind it around herself.

Even if Yan Muyu flew free, it would be within her sight—always knowing when she would return.

Qiu Chao clung to Yan Muyu so tightly it made her scalp tingle.

It wasn’t as if Yan Muyu had never hugged anyone before; most were quick and fleeting.

Friends she’d made abroad would embrace longer, but never this fiercely. She could feel Qiu Chao’s nails digging into her flesh.

Yet Yan Muyu didn’t push her away.

Her heart couldn’t help softening at such a vulnerable Qiu Chao. With steam still rising from the big pot over the earth stove and the water bubbling noisily, Yan Muyu sighed. Her voice carried the deep concern Qiu Chao remembered from years ago. “What’s wrong?”

Qiu Chao had only been sniffling at first, but those words shattered the dam holding back her tears.

Long-buried longing burst forth, inch by inch, clamoring to claim Yan Muyu.

Yan Muyu jumped, half-convinced she was dreaming.

Otherwise, how could she be hearing Qiu Chao cry?

Come on—even with the boiling water roaring and the crew wrapping up noisily outside, there were still people around.

A floral curtain covered half the kitchen door, and the staff outside stared at the suddenly shuttered bamboo window in confusion.

“Why’d they close it so fast?”

“They must want to clock out even more than we do.”

“Did I hear crying?”

“No way, must be your imagination.”

If the crew was puzzled, the viewers stuck without a live stream were blowing up the app’s real-time forums over that final shot.

—What the hell happened at the end?? I swear Qiu Chao just pounced on Yan Muyu.

-[Image] Look at this frame—it totally looks like Sister Qiu is about to pin Yan Muyu down!

-Don’t spread rumors. Our Sister Qiu could go for anyone but Yan Muyu.

-I feel the same…

-I even got the vibe they were about to kiss right then and there.

-Warning! This isn’t a dating show! It’s a lifestyle variety program!

-As long as it films well, any variety show can turn into a dating show (just saying).

-I’m done. My head’s full of Sister Qiu making rice noodles, and remembering those old tabloid gossips about her past just breaks my heart.

-Doesn’t Sister Qiu’s family do rice noodles?? I think she mentioned it once on a show.

-And more—her past was rough. Anyone mocking her education, if they’d been through what she did back then, might not have made it as far as she has.

-I’m a later fan of Qiu Chao; still no clue what went down.

-Paper media era—lots could be manipulated. No wonder she keeps it private. Even secondhand accounts hurt to hear.

-Yeah, even fan club members might not know, and no one spreads it.

-No matter what anyone says, I just want Sister Qiu to be happy. But she rarely shares her real thoughts—such a mysterious woman.

-Did anyone else get the sense she really needs Yan Muyu?

-[Image][Image][Image] These screenshots kill me. Everyone’s eating, she’s silent—no awkwardness, but she doesn’t seem thrilled to be on the show either.

-Counterpoint! I love this variety show—at least it shows a new side of her.

-Not a Qiu Chao stan, but any interview compilations? She’s so enigmatic; all I know is her movie and TV roles…

-What’s Yan Muyu’s deal? Not quite a full-on manager.

-Calling her an influencer feels ungrateful—she’s got real talent. CEO? She won’t own it herself.

-Am I the only one watching this as a dating show? Yeah, I’m shameless, sue me!

~~~

This embrace was far too intense.

Yan Muyu felt like her shower had been for nothing, and yet with Qiu Chao’s sobs fading, she still leaned against her.

Her chin rested on Yan Muyu’s shoulder, as if forced to tilt her head up.

Yan Muyu: “Aren’t you uncomfortable like this?”

Qiu Chao’s lashes still glistened with dampness, fluttering as her voice trembled with lingering tears. She looked utterly pitiable.

Qiu Chao: “Thanks for not pushing me away.”

She had always come off as shameless before; this sudden politeness threw Yan Muyu off.

Yan Muyu: “So what is it? You make some rice noodles and cry like this?”

She crouched down a bit, shedding some of her teasing tone for a hint of gentle warmth.

With the lights dimmed and the firewood crackling under the earth stove, the air grew even more charged in their closeness. Yan Muyu: “Missing your family?”

In that instant, Qiu Chao felt like Yan Muyu’s lover, savoring a tenderness she had only witnessed others receive.

Qiu Chao hummed softly. She sniffled, ducked her head, and buried it in Yan Muyu’s chest, her voice quivering. “Can I hold on just a little longer?”

~~~

Yan Muyu knew a bit about her past.

The year her little sister was born, their father died. A few years later, their mother came to S City to work, setting up a stall to sell rice noodles and getting involved with a man.

It ended in a fight—and a murder.

When Yan Muyu dug up the case file, she was speechless for half the afternoon.

It was Shen Tianqing—whom Lin Chi had sent over to party with her—who broke the silence. “That’s brutal. Almost as bad as my crush.”

After a pause, she added: “Actually, Shi Xu had it worse.”

The little wild one chewed her straw flat and sank back into her self-indulgent pining. “Shi Xu’s dead, after all.”

Yan Muyu was used to her sporadic elegies for her late wife; no point arguing. She just kept reading.

A person’s history fit on a single thin sheet of paper—especially for Qiu Chao, this “little sister-in-law” not much older than her.

While Yan Muyu was out carousing and throwing money around, Qiu Chao was grinding to cover her sister’s exorbitant plastic surgery and therapy bills.

A scout discovered her; after months as a model, she starred in No. 32 Erga Road at seventeen that winter. The next year, she blew up—parading a high-profile romance with her male lead all over shows before jumping straight to Yan Kai.

Even from those stark black-and-white facts, Yan Muyu could see the struggles—a life she couldn’t imagine.

She spent the whole afternoon sighing. Shen Tianqing asked: “So, you gonna give her a hard time? Weren’t you bummed your brother snagged a sister-in-law even younger than you?”

Without her goth vibe, Shen Tianqing was just a good girl at heart—though her first love had crashed and burned, letting her style swing from Huang Rong to Mei Chaofeng.

Her long nails tapped the desk as she eyed Yan Muyu.

Yan Muyu: “Nah, why bother.”

She had seen Yan Kai and Qiu Chao together. They did their own things, but the vibe was fine.

Yan Kai’s years of unrequited love, tangled up with the family’s endless headaches, had transformed his once-youthful, handsome demeanor into something inscrutable.

Having been raised by him, Yan Muyu naturally wanted him to be happy.

“I hear my brother even prepared the engagement ring. That makes Qiu Chao my future sister-in-law.”

She took a big gulp of her iced Americano, the ice cubes clinking into her mouth.

Yan Muyu grimaced for a good while. “I’ll treat her well.”

Shen Tianqing couldn’t have cared less. She was just making small talk, summing it up perfunctorily. “Of course you will. After all, your brother’s always away from home.”

She chuckled to herself as she added, “And you’re no homebody either, Little Sister-in-Law. You’ve got ambition, drive.”

Yan Muyu: “Yeah.”

Shen Tianqing: “You might even end up keeping your sister-in-law company on behalf of your brother.”

Later on, Yan Muyu would decide that Shen Tianqing was a real jinx. All those prayers to the gods for the dead to rise hadn’t worked—instead, they’d left her reeking of incense, like some backwoods medium.

And it really did turn out that way. Even with this romance, Yan Kai showed no sign of going all soft and sweet.

With such a vast family empire to manage, and relatives circling like hawks, he was busy cultivating his loyalists. It seemed he was always preparing for the future.

He harbored ambitions even more intricate than Qiu Chao’s.