Chapter 39: Dream of Deep Affection Part 1

Yan Muyu was grinding her teeth so obviously that Liu Song even peered into her bowl. “Is it that spicy?”

The next second, the younger girl turned to the grinning Qiu Chao. “Sister Qiu, where did you get those chilies?”

“From the market yesterday,” Qiu Chao replied. “Right next to the old lady selling oilseed greens.”

She even described the old lady’s appearance to Liu Song. The two of them chatted across Yan Muyu as if she weren’t there, even bringing up the uncle who sold pumpkins and how he had taken his cat out for a walk.

Yan Muyu sighed and continued eating her rice noodles, pondering the task from the production team.

She still needed to go to the meat shop to buy fresh meat.

Should she bike there?

Yan Muyu really didn’t want to ride a bicycle anymore. The note from the production team also listed carpool routes.

Just like when she did cargo hauling—fixed schedules, probably run by someone heading to another mountain ridge.

【That mouth doesn’t look like…】

【It’s bitten, right?】

【She bit it herself?】

【I don’t even want to think about it. Feels too explosive.】

Once Qiu Chao finished chatting with Liu Song, Xi Xi happened to emerge carrying her “love-filled breakfast.”

Ding Yingxue blurted out, “Sister Xi, you…”

Pei Wan just stared in stunned silence.

Yan Muyu felt queasy even glancing at it.

Qiu Chao let out a sigh.

【Is this pig slop?】

【How does someone manage to cook noodles like that?】

【Liu Song’s already got that pained expression on. Probably not her first time.】

【You’re insulting pig slop.】

【Suddenly realizing Pei Wan and Qiu Chao are actually great at taking care of people.】

【After all, Xi Xi… born with a silver spoon, and even being a manager was an eye-opener for her.】

【Back then, she didn’t become a manager for love, did she?】

【Never underestimate love-struck brains.】

Liu Song glanced at the bowl in front of her.

Xi Xi could sense how unappetizing her cooking looked. “Don’t eat it. I’ll take you out to eat.”

She even knew the spots. “There’s a cooperative store at Streamside Mountain Pass.”

【Talk about favoritism!】

【Sister, get a grip. You picked through cow dung all day for pennies.】

Yan Muyu couldn’t hold back any longer. She turned to Qiu Chao. “I’ve finished my noodles. Why don’t you give it to them…?”

Before Qiu Chao could respond, Xi Xi cut in. “Qiu Chao made that specially for you. How could we eat it?”

Yan Muyu: …

Qiu Chao seemed quite pleased. “It’s no big deal. I could make some for Little Yan every day.”

It might have been an illusion, but many people felt like extra emphasis on the second half of that sentence.

Yan Muyu kicked Qiu Chao’s shoe under the table.

You’re shameless, but I still have some dignity.

Liu Song waved it off. “It’s fine. I’ve eaten her cooking before.”

“Sister Xi might not be great at other things, but her noodles taste pretty good despite the looks. They’d be even better with some fermented bean paste.”

Her hair was uneven on both sides—one half draped over her shoulder, the other styled in a princess cut that swayed as she spoke.

But her voice and gaze weren’t sharp at all. They were excessively soft. She even smiled at Xi Xi. “The first time I met Sister Xi, she made me a bowl of noodles.”

Xi Xi: “That was years ago.”

She sat down beside Liu Song. Yan Muyu asked, “Didn’t Liu Song debut at seventeen? So you knew her back then?”

Her question was tactful, but everyone at the table—and all the live viewers—understood the implication.

That year, Xi Xi had clearly still been with her ex-husband. She had always managed only one artist at a time.

Liu Song spoke first. “We lived in the same building. That day, I got drunk and knocked on the wrong door.”

That year, Liu Song had burst onto the scene and signed with the company, but it coincided with contract adjustments. She had a window of time with no gigs.

The industry was full of networking events, and Liu Song couldn’t avoid them either.

Even after making excuses to head home, she was still plagued by a splitting headache from the booze, on top of a cold. She hadn’t eaten much, so her stomach and head ached in tandem.

Liu Song hadn’t realized she’d hit the wrong elevator button. She fumbled desperately with the door to 8701, entering the wrong code over and over, oblivious that she was actually at 7701.

Xi Xi, fresh off a massive fight with her ex-husband, had just returned to her single apartment.

She was covered in emotional barbs, cursing under her breath as she told the kid banging on her door to scram.

But Liu Song burst into tears from how miserable she felt, mistaking her for her mom, and flung herself forward.

She sobbed uncontrollably about her aching head, her aching stomach, how everything hurt.

She wanted to go home. She said singing wasn’t fun anymore.

Xi Xi never imagined she’d end up with such a big “child” on her hands. If the girl hadn’t specified she was female, she might have called the cops.

The weepy, babbling girl demanded noodles, slumping at the kitchen table in a daze. Anyone would think she was a fool.

By sheer coincidence, Xi Xi’s apartment had a pack of instant ramen that day.

She managed to boil a bowl: scorched egg, overcooked greens, mushy noodles. The ham slices were fine enough, but lazily thrown in uncut.

Compared to the chaotic mess now before them, it had been downright sloppy.

Yet in Liu Song’s eyes, Xi Xi was a living saint.

God knows how horrified she was upon waking up.

Everyone in the company knew Xi Xi’s status.

Even after overnight fame, Liu Song was still a nobody in Xi Xi’s eyes.

The industry was rife with rises and falls; lasting success was like ascending to heaven.

But Liu Song always saw Xi Xi through rose-tinted glasses. Like that mishap—she had felt Xi Xi’s warmth, the gentle hand stroking her back.

Even if others called her fierce, with weird tastes and peculiar habits.

Liu Song: “Anyway… Sister Xi’s a really good person.”

She snuggled closer, like a puppy begging for pets.

No need for Xi Xi to beckon; she would roll over, expose her belly, wag her tail, waiting for that gaze.

For those hands to stroke her inch by inch, drawing ever more intimate.

It was a shame Xi Xi didn’t like women.

What a pity.

A mountain breeze lifted the veil on Qiu Chao’s straw hat. Amid the wind, she murmured to Yan Muyu, “I think Liu Song is so cute.”

Yan Muyu: “You like her?”

They biked toward the embroidery workshop, along the same mountain road. But today, no need to memorize the path. They just followed the clouds, as if pedaling straight into the sky.

The sun shone brightly; birdsong filled the air.

Qiu Chao chuckled. “I like you.”

The follow-cam was close enough that the mic picked up both the wind and their words crystal clear.

The livestream chat went blank for a moment, then exploded with question marks and exclamation points.

Yan Muyu didn’t take it seriously. “Yeah? Then you ride the bike.”

The wind tugged at her loose shirt, making Yan Muyu look all the more relaxed.

Ahead rolled the three-wheeler with the crew; the camera faced backward. In the frame, Yan Muyu seemed cleansed by the rural scenery, eyes crinkled in laughter, her tone lightly teasing as she effortlessly brushed off Qiu Chao’s “like.”

Qiu Chao: “Nah, my legs would get thick.”

Yan Muyu huffed. “You calling my legs thick?”

Qiu Chao: “Not as slim as mine. Your figure’s pretty average, honestly. Not as good as mine.”

Just then, a shepherd drove a few lambs onto the road ahead. Yan Muyu rang her bike bell, twisted the handlebars, and swerved sharply.

The other side of the road dropped off into a cliff—no guardrail—with a mountain stream trickling below. Even the drone cam made viewers gasp.

【No way, Young Boss Yan. You love thrills that much?】

【Help! That first-person shot is terrifying.】

Yan Muyu whipped around so fast the follow-cam crew let out a shocked “Holy shit!”

Qiu Chao threw herself onto Yan Muyu’s back, arms clamping tight—visibly so.

【First time watching a live variety show. Is this a dating show?】

【Qiu Siyuan’s team is killing it with the framing. All cinematic vibes.】

【Was that a confession just now?】

【I think Little Sister-in-Law was joking, but it’s kinda weird. I get why Yan Muyu acted like that before.】

【Me and my brother’s ex can’t even say hi when we run into each other. Just super awkward for no reason.】

【But damn, Qiu Chao looked gorgeous in that moment. Felt like she was hoping for a real answer from Yan Muyu.】

【Yan Muyu’s busted lip makes it look like she got a fresh red lip piercing.】

【Can’t wait—they just announced the side quest!】

Qiu Chao clung on extra tight.

The long downhill required no pedaling; viewers could feel Yan Muyu’s joy through the screen.

She wasn’t hard on the eyes to begin with, her skin fairer than most. On a show like this, she didn’t come off tacky or overly polished like a pampered heiress such as Xi Xi.

Like pliable putty molding to any shape, every part of her screamed adaptability.

Right now, she was the wind itself—laughing wildly. Not just the livestream audience; even the follow-cam crew, and Xing Wen and Xia Yuanyuan in the car, felt their hearts stir.

People always yearn for freedom, and freedom could be a person.

Yan Muyu embodied that.

She was someone who could thrive anywhere.

Not just get by well, but truly live.

It also meant she wouldn’t pine over anyone she couldn’t leave behind. Always looking ahead, never lingering.

Qiu Chao had rarely gotten the chance to ride on the back of a bicycle.

Her adolescence had been dim and murky, rusted and bloodstained: the brake on a rice noodle cart’s handlebars, the DVD player in an audio store.

Emitting the gritty whine of age-old wear, nothing matching a normal youth.

She had walked those long school corridors too, but groups of classmates never included her.

They’d even shove her into the boys’ bathroom when she tried for the girls’.

Laughter rose and fell around her, people whispering guesses about Qiu Chao’s newly matured body, claiming it had the allure only a man could bestow.

What man? It was clearly the body her mother had given her.

It was clearly hers because she was a woman—her flesh and blood, her very veins, every inch of her heart and soul.

Yet they reduced it so shallowly to some nonexistent man.

The boys she passed on her bike ride to school were never the objects of Qiu Chao’s fantasies.

She wouldn’t care who sat behind her on the seat, and she would refuse anyone offering an umbrella on a rainy day.

She would rather walk home through the downpour than invite even a scrap of unnecessary gossip.

No umbrella this time? Next time, she’d remember.

But now, images from her oblivious past suddenly surfaced.

Boys and girls sneaking around in love at school, the morning bike rides picking each other up, the deliberate speed-up around corners, the girl’s shrieks and complaints.

Was that what liking someone felt like?

Years later, long past her girlhood days, Qiu Chao sat on the back of the bike belonging to the person she’d daydreamed about endlessly during her youth.

She even shared the same experience.

Even though she knew Yan Muyu hadn’t sped up on purpose—that she just wanted to have some fun—it still set her heart racing.

The bike pulled up outside the Embroidery Workshop. Yan Muyu and Qiu Chao dismounted, and Yan Muyu said, “You were hugging me way too tight. I feel like throwing up now.”

Qiu Chao glanced at her. “Did I squeeze your waist? Want me to rub it for you?”

She was all but ready to do it right there in public, her hand reaching for Yan Muyu’s waist.