Chapter 51: Circle of Friends Part 1

Yan Muyu’s question had come out of nowhere, leaving Qiu Chao momentarily stunned instead.

Qiu Chao’s steps faltered, and in the next instant, Yan Muyu breezed past her.

The rain outside fell in a soft, lingering drizzle, carrying Yan Muyu’s light laugh right into Qiu Chao’s ears along with the patter.

Only then did Qiu Chao realize it had been deliberate. By the time she looked up, Yan Muyu was already several meters ahead.

Qiu Chao thought to herself: Haven’t I come back already?

The viewers picked up on the chatter, catching only the faint mention of “first love,” then watching as Yan Muyu strode past Qiu Chao with a carefree laugh.

【How old are you guys? What’s there to be so smug about?】

【Qiu Chao spacing out like that is adorable.】

【Has Qiu Chao ever mentioned who her first love was before?】

【It couldn’t be that male lead from the movie they did together, could it? He’s been married for years.】

They reached the end of the alley, turned a corner, and slipped into a narrow lane leading to the fish lamp shop.

The lane grew even tighter, so narrow that Xi Xi, umbrella in hand, grumbled nonstop about how hers was going to get stuck.

Liu Song, holding an umbrella over Xi Xi from behind, chuckled and said, “It won’t break, Sister Xi. Look ahead.”

She pointed forward, where the lane’s overhang seemed entirely blanketed in fish lamps.

In the summer’s fine rain, droplets tapped against the oiled paper, producing a crisp, tinkling sound.

The scene was serene and captivating, enough to leave first-time visitors a little entranced.

Xi Xi fell silent, no more complaints.

Ding Yingxue and Pei Wan walked one behind the other, marveling, “These fish lamps are way too pretty.”

The production team chimed in on the livestream with a timely explainer about fish lamps.

Yan Muyu had no umbrella, but the gap was so narrow anyway that one felt superfluous.

She even had time to tease Xi Xi over Pei Wan and Ding Yingxue’s heads about her overly grand airs.

Completely forgetting her wound couldn’t get wet—until Qiu Chao suddenly grabbed her hand, pulling her under the shelter of her own raincoat.

Yan Muyu startled.

She turned to meet Qiu Chao’s gaze.

Qiu Chao said, “Don’t let the rain soak you. What if it gets infected?”

Xuan Zhelu was the last to approach, carrying a folded umbrella, which she held out to Yan Muyu. “Here, use this.”

Yan Muyu shook her head. “No need. We’re almost there.”

Xuan Zhelu glanced at Qiu Chao’s hand on Yan Muyu’s. It left a sour taste she couldn’t shake.

She simply shoved the umbrella into Yan Muyu’s arms with a huff and stalked off.

The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. What gave Qiu Chao the right?

She almost scolded herself for paying good money just to suffer, but hey, she had her appearance fee—no, that only made her madder. She squeezed past Pei Wan and Ding Yingxue to chat up Liu Song, who was dutifully shielding Xi Xi.

Qiu Chao eyed the folded umbrella in Yan Muyu’s arms. “She’s really good to you.”

Yan Muyu sighed helplessly. “I’d rather she wasn’t like that.”

Qiu Chao shot back, “Showing off, are we?”

The words left her own heart feeling sour. She strode past Yan Muyu.

Yan Muyu: …

【Hahaha, a life of being snubbed yet endlessly hyped.】

【Who’s the jealous one here?!】

【This road is so narrow it’s become a feature.】

【First time hearing about fish lamp shops. This variety show is so fun.】

The fish lamp shop turned out to be one person’s private home, a craft passed down through generations until it became a storefront.

By the time Yan Muyu crossed the threshold, the others were already inside, admiring the casually displayed fish lamps.

Even the courtyard had colorful ribbon-like mini fish lamps swaying in the breeze, as if fish were swimming through the sky.

Yan Muyu slung her camera over her shoulder to snap photos. Without the camera still filming her, she might have blended right in with the crew.

The workshop master shared the legend of the fish lamps and showed the guests examples from past generations.

Each inheritor poured their life’s work into them, preserving them perfectly for descendants to carry forward after their death—waving the lamps as they roamed the hills and fields.

Yan Muyu listened intently. When the master mentioned “souls returning to their homeland,” she couldn’t help sending off a message.

Qiu Chao, standing right beside her, saw it go to Shen Tianqing.

Asking if she wanted one shipped as a souvenir.

Qiu Chao couldn’t help picturing Shen Tianqing. It was odd—they’d known each other for years, yet there wasn’t a hint of romance between them.

The master went over a lot, then, per the production team’s instructions, assigned tasks to the guests.

Xuan Zhelu slid in next to Yan Muyu. “What do you think?”

Yan Muyu blinked. “Of what?”

She was flipping through pattern illustrations for the fish lamps, her finger lingering on one. From Xuan Zhelu’s angle, it was utterly captivating.

Xuan Zhelu pressed, “We’ve made up now. You have to give me a little fish lamp.”

From the other side of the hall came the crisp sound of apprentices splitting bamboo strips, mingling with the rain.

Maybe it was the eager gleam in Xuan Zhelu’s eyes, or the easy lilt of her coquettish tone—the livestream audience felt denying her would be unjust.

But Yan Muyu’s refusal was absolute.

“I can buy you one.”

She flashed Xuan Zhelu a smile. “I’ll get you a handmade one when you get married or find someone new.”

【Ouch, savage.】

【Such sexy lips delivering the coldest words.】

【That’s her way of cutting off any lingering hopes, I guess. She seemed pretty likable otherwise.】

【What does ‘when you have someone new’ even mean?】

【Once Xuan Zhelu moves on to a new partner, yeah—that’d make them just friends.】

【Yan Muyu’s whole ‘marrying off her ex’ persona is a bit much…】

【Xuan Zhelu is such a little girl here—totally subverts expectations.】

【Even Qiu Chao turns into a little girl around Yan Muyu… This world.】

Xuan Zhelu let out an “oh,” not upset at all. She scooted closer to Yan Muyu instead. “Can I at least watch you draw the patterns then?”

Yan Muyu grinned. “That’ll cost you.”

Xuan Zhelu let out a protesting “hey.”

Yan Muyu burst out laughing.

Their vibe was so harmonious that Xi Xi, picking materials next to Qiu Chao, whispered, “How do you feel about this?”

This was the bamboo-splitting area, noisy enough that the mics were off.

Qiu Chao and Xi Xi were mere background to Ding Yingxue and Liu Song, who were designing their fish lamp.

Qiu Chao asked, “Feel about what?”

Xi Xi smirked. “Don’t you like Yan Muyu?”

No follow cam, no audio—Xi Xi, who’d been holding back for ages, asked bluntly, hoping to catch Qiu Chao off guard.

But Qiu Chao didn’t flinch or blush. She just hummed an affirmative. “Got any advice for me?”

Xi Xi hadn’t expected that. She laughed. “Me? Advice? Please.”

Qiu Chao said, “Then just lend a hand now and then. Give me some time alone with Yan Muyu.”

She glanced at Liu Song, as if returning the favor. “Can’t you tell Liu Song likes you?”

That alone might’ve been fine, but then Qiu Chao added, “No way, right?”

The teasing lilt in those three words made her intentions clear: she wanted a show.

Xi Xi was speechless.

It felt familiar somehow—Yan Muyu pulled the same stunt.

Xi Xi retorted, “You’re as annoying as Yan Muyu.”

Qiu Chao nodded shamelessly. “Which makes us a perfect match.”

Xi Xi had nothing left to say. Qiu Chao had lost it.

Qiu Chao’s mind kept replaying Mai Chen’s question: “When will be the right time?”

She truly didn’t know.

Xuan Zhelu’s arrival had stirred jealousy in Qiu Chao, but beyond that, only regret for the years they’d missed.

So many “what ifs” and “maybes.”

Even though Qiu Chao knew she shouldn’t dwell.

People were like that, though—after a fight, they’d replay it at night, wondering if a different move might’ve won.

Qiu Chao was no different now.

Once tasks were assigned, everyone got to work.

A single fish lamp wasn’t quick—fastest took three days.

Which meant three more days in this town for them.

Liu Song headed off to build the frames, with Xi Xi tagging along. Xi Xi’s hands were clumsier, so Liu Song learned first and taught her.

But they had that impenetrable vibe, Liu Song leading without a care for onlookers.

Xi Xi knew it full well but said nothing.

Pei Wan and Ding Yingxue stuck to cutting paper; the master suggested practicing on simpler bits to get the feel.

Yan Muyu was the busiest, sketching patterns one minute, then popping up to photograph the next.

The fine rain in the courtyard. Fish lamps hanging high outside.

Viewers watching the fixed cams of bustling guests felt like they were in a folk documentary.

Qiu Chao’s job was embroidering the fabric veil for the fish lamp’s face. Soon she stepped out to take a call.

It was Qiu Yuan, saying she’d dreamed of their mom.

Qiu Chao chatted briefly, then lingered after hanging up, gazing at the steady drizzle from the back hall.

Lamps hung everywhere in the workshop.

Daylight meant none were lit, but the back corridor was lined with them—one after another, more bizarre fish shapes than Qiu Chao had ever seen.

Her eyes didn’t linger on them, though.

She simply leaned against a doorpost at random. Around her, nothing but fish lamps and colorful oiled paper, rustling faintly in the morning breeze.

That’s how Yan Muyu found Qiu Chao in this setting.

Almost without thinking, she raised her camera. It hit her then—the reason she’d once been stuck.

Qiu Chao, leaning there lost in thought, wasn’t truly red-toned at all.

She blended into the muted browns and grays, revealing to Yan Muyu another version of Qiu Chao—the one she’d never quite captured.

But Qiu Chao was sharp, turning her head just a second before Yan Muyu pressed the shutter.

Her emotions shifted in an instant. The sorrow from moments ago vanished completely, replaced by the familiar smile Yan Muyu knew so well.

Yan Muyu muttered a quiet curse under her breath.

Qiu Chao walked over.

“You were sneaking a photo of me?” Qiu Chao asked.

“Wasn’t it you who caught me?” Yan Muyu replied.

“You could take some private boudoir shots of me,” Qiu Chao said.

“Sorry, that’s not a service I offer,” Yan Muyu shot back.

“So what do you want to capture of me?”

Her smile was dazzlingly bright, stirring up a surge of inexplicable irritation in Yan Muyu.

Sheets of oil paper hung one after another along the corridor. Qiu Chao dragged Yan Muyu inside, immersing them in a world of vibrant colors—yet Qiu Chao herself seemed oddly subdued amid it all.

The spot Qiu Chao had chosen was cleverly hidden; no one emerging from the hall would spot this corner right away.

She glanced at the fine drizzle outside the window and let go of Yan Muyu’s hand.

“I want to…” Yan Muyu began.

Before she could finish, Qiu Chao wrapped her arms around Yan Muyu’s waist and tiptoed up to kiss her.

Yan Muyu tried to push her away, but with her injured hand, she couldn’t get a proper grip on Qiu Chao.

This only emboldened Qiu Chao further. She pinned Yan Muyu against one of the pillars, leaving her unable to budge.

Her voice dripped with thick desire, as if Yan Muyu were the fuse that set her off, igniting explosions from the inside out every single time.

“Why do you love kissing so much… mmph!”

Before Yan Muyu could finish, Qiu Chao kissed her again.

This kiss was rough and forceful, brimming with a sadness—the very “Qiu Chao” that Yan Muyu longed to understand.

Yan Muyu furrowed her brow as Qiu Chao clung to her fiercely, nearly molding herself perfectly into Yan Muyu’s body.

Yet the kiss itself was pure provocation, devouring every last bit of Yan Muyu’s air.

“I can’t take it anymore. Can you…” Qiu Chao murmured.