Seeing this, Sheng Xingran said, “Then when my sister gets back, she can take my spot. Longlong, wait for me. I’ll come join you in a bit.”
Tonight’s game was for Tang Yuwen, so they had to make sure she had fun first. Miao Zhu nodded. “Mm, okay.”
Leaving Tang Yuwen’s tent house, Miao Zhu walked mechanically toward the dining area. The nighttime temperature had dropped quite a bit, and even with the bonfire lit, there was still a slight chill.
The camp staff set up the projector and brought hot tea and snacks. Miao Zhu casually selected a movie and nestled into a chair.
She’d barely sat for a few minutes when a warm furry head popped up, its chin resting on Miao Zhu’s lap, brown eyes rolling up to look at her.
“Grace!”
Miao Zhu’s heart raced. She twisted her neck to look around. In the distance, besides patrolling security, there was Lu Zheng strolling over with a leash.
Her heartbeat slowly calmed. What had she been hoping for? Everyone knew Mu Shanyi was with Zheng Simiao.
Miao Zhu leaned down to hug Grace and whispered softly, “Sorry, Grace. I didn’t pet you right away earlier. You’re not mad at me, right?”
Grace let out a soft “woof,” then hummed and nuzzled, wagging its tail to act cute toward Miao Zhu.
This affection moved Miao Zhu, but… Grace was so smart; it would surely become good friends with Zheng Simiao too. Once she stopped going to Tower Shadow Sunny River, Grace would gradually forget her.
Footsteps rustled on the grass behind her as Lu Zheng approached.
“Let Grace keep me company while I watch the movie.” Miao Zhu’s mood continued to sink, her usually gentle voice turning dull.
The person behind her said, “Look at the night sky—the Autumn Southern TriAngel.”
…That wasn’t Lu Zheng!
Miao Zhu turned back in shock.
“Deneb, Tu Sikong, and Firebird Six—these three stars form the Autumn Southern TriAngel.” Unlike when she’d taught Miao Zhu the Summer Great TriAngel, Mu Shanyi didn’t gesture at the sky. She didn’t even look up, just gazed down at Miao Zhu from above, at her slightly reddened nose and eyes. “It might not be easy to spot, but the autumn sky has a more obvious marker called the Autumn Quadrilateral. Once you find it—”
“Stop.” Miao Zhu lowered her voice.
She was always the one tormented by emotions, while Mu Shanyi’s casual astronomy lesson felt like sharp knives slicing into her word by word.
Interrupted, Mu Shanyi didn’t continue. She unfolded the gray cashmere shawl in her hands, stepped half forward, and draped it over Miao Zhu’s shoulders.
The soft shawl was filled with Mu Shanyi’s scent, blocking the autumn night chill. Miao Zhu’s eyes heated up again—this was such cruel gentleness.
Mu Shanyi pulled over another chair, sitting side by side with a Grace-sized gap between them.
Grace, sandwiched in the middle, seemed to sense the odd atmosphere, looking from one to the other with a puzzled face.
The movie’s timeline marched on relentlessly, but neither knew what it was about.
No one paid attention to it.
“Does it have to be like this every time? When Xingran and I appear together.” Bonfire light outlined Mu Shanyi’s calm profile. Her tone held no waves, casual as discussing the weather. “Not even willing to give me a glance?”
The night sky stretched vast, mist rose on the lake and silently crept toward the grass. Light and shadow flickered on the projection screen, and the burning firewood crackled.
This was a campsite, yet Miao Zhu felt as if she’d returned to that Mid-Autumn car, the world upside down, accusations flying. If she didn’t leave, she and Mu Shanyi would argue again within a few sentences.
Just as she moved to stand, Mu Shanyi anticipated it and grabbed her hand. “Not even bothered to talk to me?”
The pressure on her scalded fingers sent piercing pain through her. Miao Zhu’s breath hitched, tears welling. “You’re hurting me.”
Mu Shanyi immediately let go.
“What’s wrong?” She checked Miao Zhu’s fingers. “Where does it hurt?”
“Do you care what’s wrong with me? You don’t care.” Miao Zhu held back tears. It had been so long since the scald—everyone had checked on her except the closest one, Mu Shanyi. Wasn’t it too late to ask now?
Mu Shanyi gripped Miao Zhu’s wrist tightly, her gaze darkly fixed on the irregular dark red patch on her finger. She countered, “Did you ever give me a chance to care?”
…Mu Shanyi had picked up Zheng Simiao, all her attention on Zheng Simiao, so she hadn’t noticed the burn. And now she was blaming Miao Zhu for not telling her proactively?
The grievances fermenting nonstop since learning about Mu Shanyi’s matchmaking on Mid-Autumn could no longer be suppressed. Miao Zhu twisted her wrist but couldn’t break free—Mu Shanyi held her firmly.
Why?
Why could Mu Shanyi navigate everything so effortlessly while she sank deeper and deeper?
In the struggle, Mu Shanyi’s sleeve slipped, revealing her watch and porcelain-like skin on her arm.
An impulse surged. Miao Zhu opened her mouth and bit down on Mu Shanyi’s arm!
Mu Shanyi grunted in pain. Grace shrank back, head drooping.
“Did I say something wrong?” Despite the pain, Mu Shanyi didn’t let go. She furrowed her brows. “With Emma’s situation, you’d rather ask Xingran for help, ask Tang Yuwen for help, but not me. Did you give me a chance?”
Miao Zhu stubbornly held back tears, but they spilled out anyway.
She had thought about it—really thought about it. After hearing Emma’s confession in the hotel room, Mu Shanyi was the first person she’d thought of.
She’d wanted to complain to Mu Shanyi about Mo Wei’s villainy, discuss with her how to help Emma, seek Mu Shanyi’s comfort so she wouldn’t be so anxious about Emma’s ordeal…
Before Mid-Autumn, she would have done it without hesitation. But after learning about the matchmaking, she didn’t dare.
How could she rely on Mu Shanyi?
