This woman was the same—one had to peel back the layers to glimpse the truth inside.
Qiu Chao’s attitude was casual as ever. “I was just talking nonsense.”
She hugged a pillow and lay there gazing up at Yan Muyu, prodding her leg with her bare toes. “Don’t tell me I hit the nail on the head.”
Yan Muyu said, “In your dreams. Go to sleep.”
Qiu Chao put on an exaggerated coquettish whine, drawing out an “Ohhh” in waves.
“Little Yan~ So~ Fierce~ I~ Love~ It~”
Yan Muyu: …
For some reason, she suddenly felt the urge to bolt.
~~~
When she came back downstairs, Li Xi and Liu Song had already gone down ahead of her.
Ding Yingxue looked a little disappointed, as if she’d been expecting some epic showdown. Seeing Liu Song unscathed, she asked, “Did you two clear the air?”
Liu Song hummed in affirmation.
Li Xi chimed in, “We haven’t caught up enough yet. I’m not leaving till the day after tomorrow—can I bunk with Liu Song?”
【Why are all these guests coming in so bold!】
【Li Xi is a tough one to handle.】
【That’s gotta be on purpose. She even glanced at Xi Xi, lol.】
【Does she have to say it on the show after all these years?】
Liu Song jumped, letting out an “Ah.”
Li Xi pressed, “I’m only staying a few days. Can’t your manager lend you to me for two nights?”
Yan Muyu was sitting off to the side, varnishing the Fish Lamp. She leaned back against the chair, looking utterly relaxed—but at those words, she couldn’t resist stirring the pot. “Yeah, what’s two nights? It’s not like you’re favoring the mistress over the wife.”
Ding Yingxue was dumbfounded. Yan Muyu noticed her fumbling with the candle wax and teased, “Don’t tell me Pei Wan handled everything for you growing up? You can’t do anything on your own?”
Ding Yingxue admitted, “Pretty much. My big sis is great.”
Yan Muyu said, “Outsiders might think she was your child bride.”
Ding Yingxue replied, “My parents adore her too. We’ve been together since we were little.”
Yan Muyu didn’t know the full story, but from Pei Wan’s habit of taking calls now and then these past few days, she could imagine it had been like that for a solid decade—under constant watch.
It would suffocate any outsider. God knows how Pei Wan put up with it.
This family probably wasn’t as harmonious as it seemed.
But Ding Yingxue didn’t seem to be faking it, which meant Pei Wan must not have told her a thing.
Yan Muyu said mildly, “She’s that good to you? Then show some more concern for your sister. Stop just watching the drama all day.”
Her tone was gentle, but Ding Yingxue caught the subtext. Bewildered, she glanced toward the door.
Pei Wan was outside holding an umbrella, talking on the phone. Her sister had always been the picture-perfect type—everything most people imagined when they thought of an “older sister.”
The kind Ding Yingxue could brag about to her classmates back in school.
Yan Muyu added softly, “Even big sisters were little sisters once. Don’t assume she has to shoulder everything.”
The words were light, but they carried an unusual sharpness.
Upstairs, Qiu Chao hadn’t slept. She was watching the livestream on her phone, picking Yan Muyu’s voice out of the chatter and studying her expression.
She thought to herself: Does she even realize how charming she is?
See? Given enough time, no one can resist.
Ding Yingxue fell silent.
Pei Wan had always been her big sister, but back when she was little, Pei Wan had been someone else’s underclassman.
Did her sister ever get tired? Just like the scene Ding Yingxue had witnessed back in elementary school.
In high school, Pei Wan—cheeks cupped in someone’s hands—being kissed on the face.
By a woman who looked much older.
That image was still etched vividly in Ding Yingxue’s mind.
Even as a child then, she’d vaguely understood: her sister was different.
She acted spoiled too, letting others hold her hand, riding home in fancy cars late at night.
Then lying to their parents about cram school.
~~~
Yan Muyu had only made that one comment. She went right back to varnishing.
Just then, Xi Xi came over to help sort the bamboo strips. Liu Song visibly tensed, nearly stammering.
Li Xi asked Xi Xi, “You planning to remarry?”
Her words were getting bolder by the minute. Compared to how Ding Yingxue and Pei Wan treated Xi Xi with kid gloves, Li Xi was downright casual.
As the chats put it: the fearless chaos of a half-retired civilian.
Liu Song tugged at Li Xi’s hem. “Say a little less.”
But she didn’t realize how intimate that looked—like long-lost lovers. It was the exact gesture Xi Xi had seen in the artist competition footage she’d reviewed after blocking Li Xi that day.
Xi Xi knew the industry was full of same-sex relationships. Men’s romances were fleeting anyway.
Straight marriages secured assets but not love.
Xi Xi had been picky, determined to keep her marriage firmly in her control. She’d laid out all the terms upfront, only to end up humiliated.
Liu Song felt like a spiteful rebound choice.
Even like a pliant pet she could toy with at will—obedient, gentle, utterly harmless.
So Xi Xi was happy to be good to her.
This little one had grown up surrounded by love, but not the cold kind from Xi Xi’s family.
It was the everyday warmth: family chit-chat, slow and steady, laughing over a batch of dumplings.
Nothing like Xi Xi’s home.
Lifestyle habits, family backgrounds, eating preferences, spending attitudes…
People differed in so many ways, and Xi Xi knew that. Yet Liu Song was warm and welcoming. Once Xi Xi became her manager, Liu Song kept inviting her over.
She never felt inferior about her humble roots—in fact, she was proud.
Even Xi Xi’s lumpy dumplings got hyped to the heavens, giving Xi Xi a rare taste of pure joy.
No fancy house, cracked ceilings, cramped living room above a dumpling shop. Liu Song wrapping dumplings while watching cartoons, kids roughhousing around.
All Liu Song’s family.
So genuine and heartfelt—it made the painful end of Xi Xi’s last relationship feel less like the end of the world.
She was just too proud to admit she’d misjudged someone, too used to things going her way. She hated the idea of being ridiculed for picking wrong.
Liu Song had healed her wounds without even trying—and some feelings could grow naturally from that.
Of course Xi Xi knew about Liu Song’s feelings.
The kid just wasn’t one to spell them out. Liu Song was pure in everything she did.
She could hole up in a practice room for hours or suddenly hate it and ride her bike out at midnight. When she picked up Xi Xi’s call, breathless but laughing.
She shared everything.
Often, when Xi Xi was too busy for Liu Song’s schedule, and the assistant had briefed her, Liu Song would still bombard her with voice messages, flooding her screen.
Down to seeing some celebrity’s elevator ad graffitied with a mustache on her way downstairs that day.
Xi Xi thought that was fine.
No crossing lines. To Liu Song, she was just the woman who’d shared that bowl of noodles.
Nothing grand or meticulously crafted.
Once she grew up a bit more and met others, she’d see it wasn’t irreplaceable.
But plans didn’t always pan out. Xi Xi had never thought she’d fall for a woman—yet here she was, the frog slowly boiled by warm water.
Now the water in Xi Xi’s heart was boiling over. Her gaze fixed on Liu Song’s hand clutching Li Xi’s clothes, her mind filled with those CP fan edits of the pair.
Clips showing Li Xi’s tender affection, Liu Song’s pure delight.
Of course Xi Xi could tell Liu Song had feelings once.
Then Ziwei Star burst onto the scene—a rare genius.
She had a rival perfectly matched in music.
Poised and elegant, it should’ve been a fierce battle for first and second, with some vote-pulling lines exchanged.
But Li Xi said nothing that year. She just stood on stage, gaze locked on Liu Song from afar—then ran over in front of everyone to hug her.
No need for votes, she said. She wanted to duet with Liu Song.
Even Xi Xi, neck-deep in divorce drama back then, had heard about the buzz.
Li Xi seemed breezy on the surface, but she was fiercely independent, hating the industry grind. She just up and quit.
Liu Song signed with an agency. At first, the two seemed close—plenty of joint photos on social media.
Even other contestants’ interviews hinted at them sharing a bed back in the day.
But Li Xi had a girlfriend that year, so who knows.
Now, though, Li Xi was single.
Had Liu Song worked something out with her? Were they dating?
The atmosphere grew tense once more, though Yan Muyu remained the sole beacon of cheer.
She positively beamed as she applied pine oil to the fish lamp, humming a raunchy village tune she’d picked up from who-knows-where. The off-key melody served as background music to their staring standoff, easing the swords-drawn tension considerably.
【My heart’s racing.】
【Yan Muyu sings so terribly.】
【No one’s perfect—it’s painfully off-key even without knowing the original.】
【Did Ding Yingxue go find Pei Wan?】
【How many iconic moments is this now?】
【Li Xi actually asked that!!!】
Xi Xi spoke up. “I’m not remarrying.”
She turned to Li Xi. “What, are you going to set me up with someone?”
Liu Song wasn’t sure whether to celebrate Xi Xi’s declaration or dread an impending fight between the two.
Xi Xi already had a short fuse, and Li Xi excelled at delivering cutting remarks with the blandest of tones.
Liu Song glanced from one to the other, a headache brewing. At last, her gaze settled on Yan Muyu.
【This drama’s too wild for any script!】
【For real? I remember Xi Xi likes men she can control, and her kinks are pretty…】
Li Xi replied, “I don’t like men. How could I introduce you to one?”
A mocking smile played on her lips. “Has Miss Xi switched tastes now?”
Liu Song squeezed her eyes shut, suddenly regretting her decision to join this variety show.
To escape reality, she simply squatted down beside Yan Muyu’s stool. Right then, Yan Muyu’s phone buzzed.
Liu Song caught sight of the text from Qiu Chao.
Qiu Chao: Finger cots all used up?
Liu Song felt like she’d gone blind.
Yan Muyu let out a chuckle and turned to Liu Song. “Do you have any?”
Liu Song’s face flushed crimson. “I don’t!!!”
She nearly plopped right onto the floor on her butt.
Never one to let a good spectacle pass, Yan Muyu fanned the flames. “Li Xi’s room has some. Why don’t you grab a few for Qiu Chao?”
Xi Xi hadn’t caught their exact words, but she’d zeroed in on Li Xi’s name.
Li Xi asked, “Grab what?”
Yan Muyu blinked innocently. “Something only Xi Xi wouldn’t need.”
Li Xi let out an “oh.” “Song Bao wants some too?”
Liu Song waved her hands frantically. “No, no!”
Realization dawned on Xi Xi, and fury ignited within her. “Who says I don’t need them!”
Yan Muyu fired off a text to Qiu Chao: Can’t you just get a proper night’s sleep?
Yan Muyu: There’s roast chicken tonight. Qiu Siyuan prepared a ton of Truth or Dare.
Qiu Chao: Dare.
Yan Muyu: You picked before I even explained the options?
Qiu Chao: You wouldn’t choose Truth anyway.
Yan Muyu: ?
Qiu Chao: Not about how you love me.
