Chapter 63: Damp Soil Part 2

She really didn’t know how to play; no wonder she got so worked up even during sex.

“Has the doctor checked you out?” Yan Muyu asked.

She pulled out her phone to message Xia Yuanyuan, telling her to bring someone up, while firing off replies to the recent barrage from Shen Tianqing—

Shen Tianqing: So desperate to see a woman, huh!

Shen Tianqing: Who’s so desperate to see a woman!

Shen Tianqing: Some people claim they hate me but love me to death!

…

Yan Muyu blocked her without a second thought, then flipped to Meng Heng’s chat—

Yan Muyu: Shen Tianqing’s been bugging me lately to make her some new toys.

Yan Muyu: What’s the matter, Miss Meng? Too young to be running low on stamina?

Yan Muyu: I get it, though—hers has always been so vigorous.

Qiu Chao watched Yan Muyu type, riveted. Thank goodness the room’s cameras were off; otherwise, the fans would be in despair again.

She was staring a little too intently.

Yan Muyu’s hands were lovely, sure, but did they warrant such rapture?

Yan Muyu’s eyes were downcast. Her hands were a full size larger than Qiu Chao’s; as one tapped out messages, the other drummed idly on the bedside table.

Meng Heng shot back instantly: Got it.

But the very next message shattered the vibe—a voice note: Yan Muyu, are you nuts?! Why are you tattling?! I never asked you for anything!

—Don’t you dare frame me! Things are great between her and me! Meng Heng’s got tons of energy!! Way more than you!!

Yan Muyu let out a chuckle and muttered, “She really has no way with words.”

On second thought, she figured Shen Tianqing had done it on purpose. Meng Heng would get a little jealous, right? Just as she wanted.

With a sigh, Yan Muyu realized she was playing the ultimate wingwoman for her friend’s happiness—and laughed to herself.

Qiu Chao hadn’t pegged Shen Tianqing for this type. The director had always struck her as creepy, unhinged, and standoffish.

Wasn’t this downright bubbly?

“You two have such a great friendship,” Qiu Chao said.

“You’ve met Shen Tianqing,” Yan Muyu replied. “She’s a total nutcase.”

She turned to Qiu Chao. “Had breakfast yet?”

Qiu Chao shook her head. “Xia Yuanyuan didn’t bring you anything? Some assistant. Fire her.”

Xia Yuanyuan, arriving just then with a knock at the door, overheard and felt a shiver run down her spine.

“Sister Qiu!” she cried mournfully from the hall.

“What a coincidence,” Yan Muyu said.

Xia Yuanyuan ushered in the doctor—and breakfast for Qiu Chao.

Yan Muyu stepped aside to crack open the window. It was nearing ten o’clock, a rare day without fieldwork, though the relentless rain grated.

The doctor worked for the Yan Family and had tended to Lin Yumian before, so she knew Yan Muyu well.

She hadn’t been the original pick for the show; Yan Muyu had canned the first one on the spot.

Young Boss Yan might not seem high-and-mighty, but she had her intimidating moments.

Like now, standing by the window. Even unsmiling, she cut a stern figure.

“The fever’s broken—no issues there,” the doctor said. “Miss Qiu still needs plenty of rest.”

Yan Muyu murmured agreement. “Any foods to avoid? Qiu Chao, why not pull out for now? Head to the city for a few days.”

Qiu Chao accepted the porridge from Xia Yuanyuan. “So eager to kick me out?”

Laughter laced her words, but her eyes brimmed with tears first, leaving the others with the impression that Yan Muyu was throwing her weight around.

Yan Muyu: …

Xia Yuanyuan beat a tactful retreat with the doctor.

The room fell quiet, holding only Yan Muyu and Qiu Chao.

“Have you eaten breakfast?” Qiu Chao asked.

“What time did you leave?” she pressed.

Yan Muyu perched on the bed’s edge. “A bit after six. Roads were rough today—Li Xi came with me.”

“But the workshop was supposed to deliver the lantern,” Qiu Chao said.

“The artisan had other plans.”

Every segment of the show meshed seamlessly, with contingencies in place. Yan Muyu just hated settling for Plan B.

That morning, Qiu Siyuan had tried to talk her out of it. The roads were dicey—if anything happened, they were all sunk.

Yan Muyu had been adamant: It wouldn’t.

Li Xi, yawning at her side, chimed in. “I’ll draft my last will and testament ahead of time.”

She had a knack for defusing tension. Amid the misty morning rain, she added, “Folks who truly need to put food on the table aren’t fazed by mishaps. We’re just…”

“Don’t get maudlin,” Yan Muyu cut in. “I’m competitive, that’s all.”

The barrage lit up: Can’t you make it inspirational for once?

Yet the morning livestream had captured others braving the rain for work.

Today’s weather wasn’t as brutal as yesterday’s, and the town’s breakfast spots stayed open despite the downpour.

Someone had to eat. Someone had to venture out.

Yan Muyu might come off as reckless, but she was meticulously careful, inspiring unshakable confidence even in foul weather.

Li Xi, with her music competition chops, brought solid variety-show flair. Paired with the post-production captions, it nailed the episode’s theme.

“So early,” Qiu Chao murmured.

“I’ve eaten,” Yan Muyu said. “Go ahead with yours.”

Xia Yuanyuan had brought a standard crew meal, but Qiu Chao needed nourishing grub in her condition.

With no livestream running, Yan Muyu took the chance to unwind briefly. Right on cue, Yan Tianxing called; she chatted with her for a bit.

Qiu Chao cherished these moments. Just hearing Yan Muyu’s soft, intimate voice filled her with joy.

After finishing her food, she gave her thigh a squeeze, her mind drifting back to Yan Muyu’s nighttime advances. Once the call ended, she asked, “Doing it again tonight?”

Yan Muyu, mid-sip of water, nearly choked.

She whipped around in disbelief. “Didn’t you hear what the doctor said?”

Qiu Chao hummed softly, straw caught between her teeth as she gazed up at Yan Muyu.

Her face bare of makeup, yet it radiated a faint, lingering allure.

This passion ran bone-deep, unveiled solely for Yan Muyu.

“Not full,” Qiu Chao said.

Yan Muyu feigned ignorance. “I’ll have Xia Yuanyuan fetch you seconds.”

“Not full here,” Qiu Chao replied. She pressed a hand to her chest and flashed Yan Muyu a smile. “And last night, I didn’t hold up at midnight—too woozy. Were my moans not sexy enough?”

“Cut the act,” Yan Muyu said. “No audience here.”

“I’m not acting.”

Qiu Chao slumped against the headboard, then wriggled closer to lean into Yan Muyu—as if catching the scent of her arduous journey over hill and dale. “I’m just hungry. It’s making me itch.”

Maybe it was Yan Muyu’s cool reaction, but Qiu Chao found herself yearning for that tender version from the night’s depths.

“Is it that your skills aren’t up to snuff?” she teased.

Yan Muyu might have brushed off anything else, but this struck a nerve.

She huffed, snatching Qiu Chao’s juice cup. Her eyes lingered on the mangled straw for a few seconds before she said, “Then I apologize.”

Her voice rang out clear as a mountain stream, tempting Qiu Chao to cup a handful and douse herself in it.

“Not as good as your first love,” Yan Muyu added.

The words tumbled out too abruptly. She regretted them at once.

It made her sound obsessed.

Qiu Chao sidled closer, wrapping an arm around Yan Muyu’s waist from the side. “Jealous, are we?”

“Would I?” Yan Muyu shot back.

Qiu Chao recalled the tabloid fodder: Yan Muyu setting up her exes with dates after breakups, toasting at their weddings, even hosting parties that doubled as mixers.

Each tale sounded absurdly generous. To the still-pining ex, it might induce a stroke.

But it proved Yan Muyu had never truly fallen.

That thrilled Qiu Chao to no end.

She nestled her cheek against Yan Muyu’s shoulder, rocking playfully back and forth. “When are you setting Xuan Zhelu up with a girlfriend?”

With earnest appraisal, she added, “She’s gorgeous, great family—bet she’s got suitors lining up.”

“You like her?” Yan Muyu asked.

Qiu Chao clung tighter, always stirring that pang in Yan Muyu: [She’s got no one but me.]

But that was presumptuous. Qiu Chao moved in elite circles, admirers aplenty—hardly destitute.

Besides, self-pity wasn’t her style.

“I hope someone does like her and sweeps her off her feet,” Qiu Chao said.

“Don’t tell me you still carry a torch?” she went on. “You said you never rekindle old flames.”

“We’re not a match,” Yan Muyu replied.

“Why isn’t it a good match?”

Qiu Chao was practically bursting with joy inside, but she kept up a thoughtful expression on the surface, as if weighing the details carefully. “They’re evenly matched in looks and family background. She sings, and you design her MV covers. She probably loves having fun too—don’t you two just click instantly?”

Yan Muyu let out an exaggerated “Wow.” “Then she really is my perfect match.”

The words dripped with sarcasm, and Yan Muyu even picked up her phone with mock seriousness. “In that case, should I call her and ask if she wants to talk again?”

Even though she knew Yan Muyu was doing it on purpose, Qiu Chao still felt a surge of irritation. She reached out to snatch the phone.

Yan Muyu jumped to her feet to run, but Qiu Chao—despite being sick—still had some explosive strength left. She yanked Yan Muyu down and, as she toppled, swung a leg over to straddle her.

“You’re pretty impressive,” Yan Muyu said.

Qiu Chao tossed the phone aside. “Can’t bear to see her find someone?”

“No,” Yan Muyu replied.

She let out a long sigh. “Two fun-loving people together wouldn’t even be that fun.”

Yan Muyu grew a bit more serious. “She’s better suited to someone from a less privileged family—one who’s devoted to her heart and soul, not too wild.”

Qiu Chao sprawled atop her and didn’t care for this analysis one bit.

She felt her own mindset was a little off. Part of her hoped Yan Muyu didn’t like Xuan Zhelu, but another part didn’t want her to badmouth the girl either.

“Doesn’t playful sound fun?” Qiu Chao said. “Otherwise, it’s just boring.”

Yan Muyu chuckled. “You’re the boring one. You’ve never been to an aquarium, snapped hundreds of photos of Whale, never ridden a cable car, and screamed your head off.”

These were all things from over a decade ago.

Qiu Chao’s face flushed bright red in an instant. “That’s boring? I’d never been before, okay? Your one watch could’ve covered my tuition for years.”

“And the place where I lived didn’t even have a view of the sea!”

Qiu Chao had never defended herself so frantically in her life. Her face burned and her neck stiffened, and even now, as an international superstar, that old wave of embarrassment came rushing back.

“I didn’t… scream that loud.”

She huffed heavily. “That cable car was way too dangerous, okay? I thought it was one of those fully enclosed glass ones.”

“There was a valley and streams below, and it was so high up—super scary!”

She remembered it all too clearly, Yan Muyu thought.

This version of Qiu Chao was worlds away from her usual sultry allure. Her words stumbled out haltingly even as she argued her case, as if desperate to scrub away any trace of her old country-bumpkin image.

But Yan Muyu had never seen her that way. She’d simply grown up in different soil.

Qiu Chao wasn’t a peony or a rose. She was moss—spreading in lush patches, thriving without fuss in dark, damp origins.

Even true sunlight wouldn’t wither her away.

She had an inexplicable vigor that could outlast the hardiest weeds.

“Everyone’s got a first time, okay?” Qiu Chao said. “I don’t believe you weren’t scared your first time on a wire stunt.”

A hint of smugness crept into her tone. “I’m not afraid of wire stunts. A cable car… it’s just a single bar. Way too unsafe. If I hadn’t been with you, I never would have…”

Her chatter went on and on. Annoying, really.

But Yan Muyu found this Qiu Chao utterly adorable, like they’d gone back to those years when her heart had swelled with the fierce desire to treat her well.

Qiu Chao suddenly felt lips press against hers.

She reacted swiftly, flipping the script to take control and dive into a fierce, tangled battle of lips and tongues.