As Bo Ranying’s fingertip traced its path, her soft locks continually cascaded onto Nan Qi’s collarbone. A few particularly mischievous strands even darted into the round neckline, swirling in lazy circles against her skin and stirring up a tantalizing itch.
Nan Qi’s cheeks burned even hotter.
She fixed her gaze on the cute face before her, now laced with a hint of allure. Her breath escaped in ragged gasps as she reached out and captured that handful of wayward hair.
Strands of raven silk spilled through her fingers like a spider lily blooming at its plumpest, most vibrant peak.
She pinched and squeezed, as if Bo Ranying had awakened some primal instinct within her. From tentative touches to bolder caresses, Nan Qi’s hand finally cupped the soft curve rising beneath Bo Ranying’s clothes.
She kneaded gently, molding with care—like a master dough artisan at work.
Shaping pliant dough into whatever form she desired, her technique precise yet effortless. The dough, in turn, yielded blissfully, sealing its tiny air pockets with contented ease.
What had started as playful mutual teasing soon left Bo Ranying’s hand growing limp. It slid weakly down Nan Qi’s collar, dropping onto the pristine white cotton quilt. Her eyes gleamed red as she let out soft, whimpering hums.
A moment later, Bo Ranying’s legs trembled instinctively, accidentally bunching up one side of the quilt in a way that eased her mounting urgency.
She sensed something off—something she dared not pursue further.
With effort, she lifted her hand to seize Nan Qi’s slender wrist. Shaking her head, she gazed up with eyes brimming with unshed tears. Her voice, syrupy sweet yet frantic, pleaded, “No more.”
Nan Qi blinked. “Huh?” She was utterly entranced by the sensation, reluctant to release her grip.
No matter how she looked at it, she adored it.
Anything tied to Bo Ranying captivated her beyond reason.
Be it the girl herself, her stage performances, or…
It was something Nan Qi possessed too, yet on Bo Ranying, it felt utterly, thrillingly different.
Bo Ranying fell silent, resolved. She sat up abruptly and wriggled free from Nan Qi’s embrace. Rummaging haphazardly through her suitcase, she snatched her pajamas and bolted toward the bathroom door in a stumbling rush. “I—I’m going to take a shower!”
The door slammed shut with a resounding bang, the echo vibrating through the air. Poise was the last thing on Bo Ranying’s mind.
Nan Qi gazed longingly at the fragrant silhouette that had vanished behind the door. She glanced down at her splayed palm, a pang of loss washing over her.
If only another chance arose someday.
As if compelled by some mischievous impulse, she stole two quick glances toward the bathroom, confirming Bo Ranying wouldn’t emerge anytime soon. Then, with exaggerated fervor, she planted a loud, resounding kiss on her palm—smack.
A radiant smile lit her face.
Nan Qi rose to straighten the rumpled bedding she and Bo Ranying had disheveled. But as she sat up, her pajama dress—bunched at her waist—settled naturally back into place. Her smile vanished.
At the hem’s position, unbeknownst to her, a damp patch gleamed wetly…
Nan Qi’s expression shifted in alarm. She couldn’t fathom the oddity, but her body understood first—her face flushed crimson, as if blood might drip from her cheeks.
Tidying the bed fled her thoughts. Instead, she curled into a tight ball, burrowed under the quilt, and wrapped herself up like a fortress. Eyes squeezed shut, she played dead.
By the time Bo Ranying emerged from the shower, this was the sight that greeted her: Nan Qi huddled beneath the covers, arched into a small mound. No amount of calling coaxed her out.
When the two had first returned to the room, their eyes had simultaneously drifted to the bed. Flecks of shy embarrassment colored their faces as memories of the previous night’s escapades on that very mattress flooded back. Neither dared indulge further.
Their interactions grew restrained, careful to minimize physical contact.
Bo Ranying found it too risky, too unnatural. She wouldn’t allow Nan Qi to repeat such things.
“Ah,” Bo Ranying said, feigning casualness with a light cough to snap Nan Qi from her reverie. “Let’s change clothes first, then do our makeup!”
Nan Qi’s attention shifted. She pointed to herself. “Makeup? Do I have to, too?”
The girl had always loved beauty. On stage, professional makeup artists transformed her with theme-fitting sequins pasted across her face, or delicate willow-leaf brows, or soft distant-mountain arches. Sometimes they wielded body-paint pens to etch vibrant patterns over her skin. Nan Qi loved watching her plain features morph under their skillful hands into faces that felt both familiar and wondrously alien.
The Bo Family was an artistic dynasty—musicians, painters, master calligraphers among them. Bo Ranying had grown up immersed in it all, her interests vast. As a child, she’d trailed the family’s experts, picking up their crafts in bits and pieces.
Human figure drawing began with structure: bones first, then form. Only later came clothing, color harmony, yielding lifelike portraits.
The strokes of painting mirrored those of makeup.
Bo Ranying had assembled her own full kit of cosmetics. By studying beauty tutorials online and mimicking the artists’ techniques, she’d grown adept enough to craft flattering looks for herself.
Nothing breathtaking, but her grasp of color theory, feather-light touch, and naturally exquisite features distanced her from the rookie pitfalls—like turning one’s face into a garish palette.
She nodded eagerly. “Yeah! I want to do yours, too.”
As she spoke, a fresh idea sparked.
“How about we swap outfits? You wear mine, I wear yours. The contrast would be hilarious!”
Nan Qi’s ears tinted pink. Her voice was barely audible. “I’m fine with that.”
Inside, her thoughts churned like a storm. Her clothes—on me! Wuwu, this is so embarrassing!
Bo Ranying blinked, surprised by the easy agreement. But the thrill of styling Nan Qi legally overrode everything.
She flung open her wardrobe, eyeing Nan Qi’s figure with care, selecting an outfit meticulously.
At last, she chose a cute ensemble: the Black Velvet Butterfly Bow Hair Accessory and the White-Based Brown Bear Print Short Dress.
The dress was a touch too revealing for Bo Ranying—a birthday gift from her mother. She adored the bear prints that hit her right in the cute spot, but shyness had kept it unworn, even untried, after snipping the tag. It had lingered in her closet until mysteriously making it into her art exam luggage.
The design was daring: thick straps about two fingers wide, accented by slender ties; deep V-necks front and back; a breezy cotton-linen and chiffon blend, perfect for summer.
Bo Ranying had never dared wear it.
“Got it picked? Does Ranran want me in this one?” Nan Qi asked, seeing her hang it up.
Bo Ranying hesitated. “Mm!”
She was dying to see it on Nan Qi.
Nan Qi studied the cut for a few seconds, then gave Bo Ranying a solemn once-over—twice, even—until the girl ducked her head. Who knew sweet, modest Ranran harbored a taste for such bold styles…
Shy as she was, if Bo Ranying wanted to see it, Nan Qi would oblige.
Resigned, she changed in the bathroom. The moment she stepped out, Bo Ranying’s eyes widened.
She snatched up the two black velvet butterfly bows, darted to Nan Qi’s side, and pinned them carefully into her hair on either side. Only then did she step back a few meters, admiring against the light.
The dress suited Nan Qi perfectly.
Tall and fair-skinned, with naturally black, long, straight hair worthy of a shampoo ad, Nan Qi leaned casually against the wall like a runway model, her poised figure flaunting the dress’s allure.
The V-neck plunged to her chest, baring snowy skin. Faint red finger marks lingered on one soft swell, half-veiled by cascading black locks. The clash of pure whites, blacks, and subtle pinks sent a surge through Bo Ranying. She averted her eyes, her breath hitching.
A short style to begin with, the ruffled hem skimmed Nan Qi’s thigh roots on her long legs, buoyant enough that the air conditioner’s faint warm breeze set it fluttering like a dance.
Bo Ranying’s gaze settled safely on Nan Qi’s face. Her features were perfection—exquisite brows and eyes, now framed by sleek black hair and matching velvet bows, blending delicacy with cuteness.
Nan Qi’s usual look stayed simple: crisp white tees with shorts, minimal hair accessories. It complemented her aloof, high ridge flower aura—untouchable, scholarly, heart fixed on learning.
This outfit? Utterly bewitching.
In Bo Ranying’s eyes, the Class President glowed.
Eager to enhance her brilliance, she tugged the Class President to the vanity. With bobby pins, she secured part of the V-neck to prevent mishaps, then dove into crafting her makeup with focus.
When the full makeup was finally complete, Bo Ranying suddenly didn’t want Nan Qi to go out in that outfit anymore…
That day, Bo Ranying directed Nan Qi to change back into her original clothes. Only then was she satisfied, linking arms with her as they headed out for a leisurely stroll—
Recalling those innocent memories from their youth, Nan Qi’s mood lifted a little.
She kicked her foot forward with force, deftly maneuvering the wheels of her office chair toward the desk. A serene smile graced her face.
She opened WeChat on her phone and first checked the chat window, confirming that Bo Ranying hadn’t sent any new messages.
Truth be told, she wasn’t particularly surprised.
She paused for a moment before tapping on Bo Ranying’s profile picture to enter her Moments.
She wanted to see if Bo Ranying had shared any updates about her day.
The office WiFi was lightning-fast. The moment Nan Qi opened Bo Ranying’s Moments, the screen refreshed with a post from over half an hour earlier.
【Today I tried on some wedding dresses. I really like Teacher Xu’s design concepts—which one do you all think is the prettiest?】
Beneath the caption were several photos of Bo Ranying in different wedding gowns. Each one was perfectly composed, dramatically highlighting her beauty.
The comments were flooded with blessings from mutual friends, and Bo Ranying had replied warmly to many of them. It all looked perfectly harmonious.
Nan Qi didn’t even notice them. She couldn’t have cared less.
That line of text shattered into twisted fragments before her eyes, slicing viciously into her mind and tearing at her nerves.
Her heart went numb, as if crushed beneath the treads of a heavy motorcycle. She stared unblinkingly at those photos, her blood cooling drop by drop.
Then, it hit her—
Yes,
Ranran had mentioned she was trying on wedding dresses that afternoon. With the engagement banquet right around the corner, it was best to settle on one quickly.
This Moments post was proof of her happiness.
Nan Qi actually laughed. The clear, melodious sound echoed for a good while until her mind cleared enough to truly register that text.
Mm, Bo Ranying was asking which wedding dress was the prettiest.
She tapped to open the photos full-size, scrutinizing each one in turn. She examined every detail, carefully judging which gown suited Bo Ranying best—and matched her own tastes.
