Chapter 73

After dinner, the two didn’t rush home. Instead, they chose to wander aimlessly around the nearby streets.

During this time, Jiang Jianxue had landed a role in a major film production thanks to Yan Xi’s recommendation. It was a supporting actress part with limited screen time, but the character was fully fleshed out—deep, with plenty of standout moments. It was the kind of role that could win fans over if played right.

With Yan Xi’s experience and connections, she could have pushed for the lead role for Jiang Jianxue. But landing it was one thing; pulling it off was another. A total unknown, an eighteenth-tier actress, suddenly stepping into the spotlight as the protagonist while seasoned veterans played support? It would invite endless backlash, no question.

Acting had been Jiang Jianxue’s dream since she was a kid. For the sake of her future career, she knew better than most how to protect her reputation. She understood Yan Xi’s good intentions and threw herself into the shoot wholeheartedly, honing her skills with every take.

“To nail this role, I barely slept for over a month straight. I even dropped thirteen more pounds on top of what I’d already lost, working out until I wanted to die. It was brutal, Sis—can you even imagine?” She’d called Shi Qianyu specifically last week to vent. Amid all the griping, though, her voice brimmed with excitement and joy. “But I crushed it this time. You’re gonna be blown away. The film’s dropping next week, so you and Wenwen have to come support me!”

Shi Qianyu had been swamped with work at the time and agreed offhandedly, only to forget about it. She didn’t remember until now, in this moment of leisure.

She and Wen Xin were meandering through the mall with no particular aim when they spotted the standee in front of the theater. The poster advertised Jiang Night Encirclement, a fantasy suspense romance with a director who’d put real effort into the script and casting. The cinematography was top-notch too. It had been packing theaters since release, racking up strong box office numbers and rave reviews.

Shi Qianyu glanced at the standee and picked out Jiang Jianxue’s image in the corner. “Want to catch a movie together?”

“Sure.” Wen Xin nodded and followed Shi Qianyu’s gaze to spot Jiang Jianxue on the poster. “Is that Jianxue?”

“Yep.”

“Then let’s watch this one!” Wen Xin had never seen Jiang Jianxue act before, and the prospect thrilled her. She headed straight to the automated ticket machine, buying their tickets while murmuring to herself, “My treat this time—I’m taking A-Yu to a movie.”

Shi Qianyu didn’t protest. She leaned her head on Wen Xin’s shoulder, her voice laced with amusement. “Sounds good.”

“Thanks, President Wen.”

President Wen.

Wen Xin’s fingers froze mid-transaction on the machine. No one had ever called her that before, and it left her flustered.

She cleared her throat and finished buying the tickets in a hurry. Then, together with Shi Qianyu, she grabbed colas and popcorn from the counter. With money to spare these days, she was more than happy to splurge on Shi Qianyu—and she practically wrestled for the chance to pay.

Shi Qianyu didn’t fight her on it. There was joy in spending, and she knew Wen Xin got a real kick out of treating her. So she played along, her voice sugary sweet as she kept calling her President Wen.

“President Wen, you’re too generous~”

“President Wen, you’re the best.”

Wen Xin felt mortified being teased like that, but beneath the embarrassment bubbled a strange mix of delight and pride. The two of them entered the theater together, found their seats, and settled in to watch quietly.

The movie moved at a brisk pace, with realistic effects and adrenaline-pumping fight scenes. Jiang Jianxue played a wandering physician who seemed cowardly and money-grubbing at first glance—quick to flee danger, eyes lighting up at the sight of cash. But she was far more cunning than that, a master of disguise. The healer persona was just a cover she’d crafted to achieve her goals.

She’d endured unimaginable trauma and pain, with every reason in the world to turn traitor. Yet for the sake of her deepest obsession—to protect the ones she was meant to safeguard—she chose to give her life. Even a gruesome death couldn’t make her compromise.

Her appearances were few, but she wove through the story as a subtle undercurrent, wringing tears from audiences.

“Jianxue was incredible,” Wen Xin said after the credits rolled. She was still lost in the plot, genuinely awestruck.

“She really was.” Shi Qianyu was equally stunned. She hadn’t expected such a leap in Jiang Jianxue’s skills over this stretch. Beyond her own hard work, Yan Xi’s guidance must have played a big part.

Shi Qianyu snapped a quick photo of their ticket stubs and sent it to Jiang Jianxue, pairing it with a custom Xixi clapping emoji. Moments later, her phone rang. Jiang Jianxue’s voice burst through, bubbly and eager. “How was I, Sis? Did my acting blow you away?”

“You were great.” Shi Qianyu’s affirmation was straightforward. She’d felt a pang earlier seeing Jiang Jianxue’s character die alone in the snow onscreen. But her chatter chased away any lingering gloom.

Jiang Jianxue kept babbling on the line. Shi Qianyu, not in the mood to listen, passed the phone to Wen Xin beside her. “Want to say a few words to Jianxue?”

“Sure.” Wen Xin took the phone and praised her earnestly. “Jianxue, your acting was amazing. You’re incredible.”

Jiang Jianxue lit up. “Really? Let me tell you…”

This was their usual dynamic: one chattering away nonstop while the other listened quietly. Shi Qianyu smiled, glanced around, and slipped away briefly. She returned with two sticks of cotton candy.

One strawberry-flavored, one orange. She handed the strawberry one to Wen Xin beside her. The two shared a smile and continued strolling at a leisurely pace.

The afternoon sun wasn’t harsh, just pleasantly bright and warm on their skin. They wandered from the bustling heart of the street to its quieter end, cutting through a narrow alley and onward.

They had no destination in mind, but the aimless ramble felt relaxed and happy all the same.

“Can I try yours?” Shi Qianyu asked suddenly when they’d eaten halfway through their cotton candy.

“Of course.” Wen Xin held hers out. She watched as the woman before her leaned in, eyelashes casting shadows, strands of hair aglow in the sunlight. Even her white tea scent had warmed under the sun. Wen Xin caught that familiar fragrance, and her heart began to race uncontrollably.

She thought Shi Qianyu was perfection incarnate—no adjustment period needed, keeping every emotion fresh and vibrant. No matter the moment, she made hearts flutter and drew people in willingly.

As if sensing Wen Xin’s gaze, Shi Qianyu looked up a second later. Their eyes met.

Wen Xin hadn’t dodged in time. She held the stare as Shi Qianyu stood still, smiling quietly at her. It was such a beautiful smile—it made Wen Xin want to kiss her.

But she was too shy. She shifted her attention instead, eyeing the cotton candy in Shi Qianyu’s hand. “I want to try A-Yu’s too.”

“Sure.” Shi Qianyu offered hers obediently. The orange flavor was tangy and sweet—lively, vibrant, refreshing.

Delicious.

“I want to check out that shop.” Shi Qianyu smiled, nodding toward something behind Wen Xin.

“Okay.” Wen Xin agreed, and they stepped inside together. It was a boutique selling display ornaments—tons of variety, all priced steeply.

Shi Qianyu had a real fascination for these trinkets. Even though she’d bought plenty just before the New Year, she still wanted more.

Normally, Wen Xin would have tried to talk her out of it, urging her to save her money.

But now, with cash to burn, she felt secure enough to indulge. She knew they shouldn’t buy more, yet she went along with it eagerly. “A-Yu, get whatever you want. I’ll pay.”

“Sister’s the best.” Shi Qianyu laughed.

It was just a smile, but it dazzled Wen Xin all the same. It even sparked an unexpected reflection: if only she had more money.

Not just a million, not just now—but sooner, in vast amounts. Enough to grant Shi Qianyu’s every wish, even if it bankrupted her.

People often said love was a sense of voluntary indebtedness. And now, for the first time, Wen Xin felt it with crystal clarity.

Perhaps her gaze burned too intensely. Shi Qianyu sensed it again. Though the cotton candy was gone from their hands, she leaned in slowly all the same.

Wen Xin heard her own heartbeat thundering. She could sense what was coming next—but she didn’t pull away. She simply clutched the hem of her clothes in silence.

She was always so slow and awkward with feelings. Yet Shi Qianyu never complained, never kept score. She just gave her everything, sincere and unrestrained.

They kissed behind a secluded display shelf. In the corner of her vision, sunlight streamed through the colorful stained-glass window, scattering a rainbow of light.