She did the math—from the time Nan Qi was sixteen until now, nearly eleven years had passed. Add one more year, and even a full zodiac cycle would have come and gone. It was an extraordinarily long stretch of time.
How many eleven-year spans did one person get in a lifetime?
The first time she had met Nan Qi in that bar, she could see it in Nan Qi’s eyes: the deep, restrained affection she harbored for Bo Ranying.
Nan Qi had said she had never been in a relationship.
That meant, from start to finish, the only person Nan Qi had ever loved was Bo Ranying.
For so many years, Nan Qi had loved her in vain, receiving no reciprocation in return, content to stay by her side merely as a friend.
Just thinking about it made Tang Lian’s heart ache—not because of her own feelings for Nan Qi, but simply out of pure sympathy for her.
With tender heartache, Tang Lian reached out and pulled Nan Qi into her arms, enveloping her in a precious embrace.
Nan Qi suddenly found herself in an embrace so warm it felt like she was melting. It took her a moment to realize what Tang Lian had done.
Surprised at first, she quickly understood the reason behind it. Tang Lian must have pieced it together from her answer—the years of unrequited love she had endured.
She felt terribly embarrassed, especially since Tang Lian was an outsider to their story.
Having her secret laid bare like that sent a subtle ripple through her heart.
Fortunately, the hugging position hid the flush of awkwardness on her face. She buried it shamelessly against Tang Lian’s chest, drawing endless warmth and strength from her.
In that instant, she felt as though this person before her truly understood her nearly foolish persistence.
Nan Qi’s hands remained at her sides in their original position, making no move to hug Tang Lian back.
The tassels of soft suede fabric brushed chaotically against her waist, her palms, the crook of her legs, stirring up waves of tingling itchiness that were impossible to ignore. In a daze, Nan Qi recalled that these must be the fringes from the hem of Tang Lian’s long half-skirt.
She allowed herself to indulge in the sensation for a brief moment before awkwardly pushing Tang Lian away. She wiped away the faint moisture gathering in her eyes and reverted to her usual cool tone. “Be more reserved. Why do you always have to get handsy with me?”
As the fragrant, soft girl pulled away, Tang Lian felt an emptiness bloom in her chest.
Still lost in that wistful feeling, she watched Nan Qi’s sudden shift in demeanor, and a laugh bubbled up inside her.
She understood this was Nan Qi’s version of embarrassment—putting on a show of propriety to push her away.
Tang Lian didn’t call her out on it.
Helplessly, she spread her hands and tilted her head, looking utterly innocent. “I can’t help it.”
“Who asked you to be so likable? It’s really hard to restrain myself.”
She spoke her mind plainly.
Tang Lian’s enthusiasm for Nan Qi was always on full display, unfiltered, at every moment.
Such straightforward reasoning left Nan Qi at a loss for a counter. She couldn’t find a way to make Tang Lian curb her habits.
Rubbing her forehead and pinching the bridge of her nose, Nan Qi still felt the need to clarify.
“Tang Lian, the truth is, you’re not my type. And right now, I’m not planning to start a relationship.”
She meant to remind Tang Lian that her advances and pursuits might end in nothing.
Better to cut her losses now.
She had no idea what principles Tang Lian would hold to.
Would she give up, or keep pushing forward?
Nan Qi had delivered this rejection line countless times before. By all rights, she should have felt perfectly calm.
But this time, her heart fluttered with unexpected anxiety.
In the past, she had always rejected suitors without leaving any room for hope, then cut off all contact afterward.
Her nature was aloof; she didn’t want close ties with anyone.
Not friendship, not love.
The warmth she could offer was limited. She couldn’t spread it evenly like morning dew.
She was a being born in a lonely universe—barren, edged in endless darkness. She both craved the arrival of light and feared it, convinced she could never hold onto it.
For light to shine upon her was already a luxury.
Just like the warmth Tang Lian gave her now, and all the beautiful interpretations she layered onto her life—they would vanish once Tang Lian stopped liking her, wouldn’t they?
To gain something only to lose it again would leave Nan Qi regretting it.
She realized she didn’t want to lump Tang Lian in with her past suitors and sever ties. She didn’t dislike her; on the contrary, she loved watching Tang Lian’s little schemes play out before her.
If Tang Lian chose to heed her warning and leave on her own…
Then Nan Qi would accept it. She could adjust, surely.
After all, she had always forged ahead through the darkness.
“Wow, do you have to be so cruel, Lawyer Nan?!” Tang Lian’s eyes widened first, her fox-like eyes lifting in a seductive tilt. Even in a glare, she exuded allure. She exclaimed dramatically.
“But don’t think you can shake my resolve.”
Her response swept away the last traces of Nan Qi’s anxiety.
“As for your ‘type,’ that’s too absolute. I think you might end up liking me someday.”
A wild, confident smile spilled across Tang Lian’s lips. She leaned in close to Nan Qi, declaring with a provocative edge, “Besides, you’ve only ever liked one person at most. What makes you think you know your type?”
“We can start as friends and see who cracks first.”
Nan Qi stated firmly, “It definitely won’t be me.”
“Oh~~~~~” Tang Lian’s voice drew out in playful waves.
The provocation stirred Nan Qi’s emotions. Without thinking, she shot back, “And how many relationships have you been in, if I may ask?”
“You asked me before. Now it’s your turn to answer.”
Tang Lian was thrilled, treating it not as a counterattack but twisting Nan Qi’s intent to her own advantage. “Does Big Sister want to know my dating history? No problem at all.”
“I just want a fair exchange.”
Pretending not to hear, Tang Lian held up two fingers with her index and middle. “Two times.”
“Impossible,” Nan Qi reacted instinctively.
The way she flirted so effortlessly, with endless tricks up her sleeve, and that bright, beautiful face—how could she have only dated twice?
“You don’t believe me?”
Nan Qi nodded emphatically. She didn’t.
Tang Lian pursed her lips, instantly looking aggrieved. She drew out her words with a sigh. “Big Sister, I see you really have a bias against me.”
“You can’t assume I’m a player just because I’m so outstanding.”
“It just seems like ‘two relationships’ fits perfectly with modern dating standards.”
Tang Lian’s teeth itched with irritation. “Looks like I need to explain it properly, or Big Sister might hold a grudge that sours your opinion of me later.”
As she spoke, Tang Lian pulled Nan Qi up from the floor and led her to the sofa, settling her down with the air of someone ready for a heart-to-heart. Nan Qi was momentarily taken aback by her seriousness.
The sofa in Tang Lian’s home was made of an incredibly soft material, designed with a subtle slope that encouraged sliding.
Whenever two people sat on it, the design kicked in—they would both slide toward the center until they were pressed side by side, at which point the slope leveled out.
Nan Qi hadn’t noticed it much on her previous visit, but sitting on it with Tang Lian now made the effect all too real.
Her emotions were a tangled mess as she wondered what Tang Lian must have been thinking when she chose this sofa.
What purpose had driven that purchase?
Uncontrollably, Nan Qi slid to the middle. She looked up into Tang Lian’s smiling, curved eyes and silently extended one arm along the back of the sofa, creating an uncrossable barrier. She watched Tang Lian’s smile freeze on her lips.
A spark of triumphant joy lit in Nan Qi’s chest.
This time, she also noticed the suitcase from her last visit—still in the same spot, filled with cosmetics, tweezers, sterile gloves, and the like. Only now, the combination lock was securely fastened.
Tang Lian drew her attention back and began recounting her two relationships.
“My first relationship was in the first semester of my senior year of high school. My desk mate confessed to me, and I said yes. I looked forward to school every day just to see her. But it didn’t last long.
Let me think—about two months, I guess. She bombed the monthly exam and blamed it on our relationship distracting her from studying. She insisted on breaking up, worried that dating me would keep her from getting into college. That was the end of my first love—brief and abrupt.”
“As for the second one, that was during college. I met my ex at a charity event. She had already started working, while I was still in school. We dated for over a year, but she broke up with me again.
The reason? She felt the gap between us widening. She couldn’t understand the struggles and frustrations I faced at school, and I couldn’t grasp her work-related moods. We couldn’t meet each other’s emotional needs anymore. Even talking felt exhausting. Breaking up was inevitable.”
“That’s my entire dating history.”
Tang Lian leaned back, her back resting against the sofa, looking utterly drained. No matter how much more she was asked, there was nothing left.
The barrier Nan Qi had created didn’t extend behind her, so the instant Tang Lian leaned back, Nan Qi sensed her presence just a few centimeters away. She immediately sat up straight, every nerve on edge, not daring to relax for a moment.
“How was it? Satisfied?” Tang Lian asked leisurely, inquiring about Nan Qi’s impressions.
…
Nan Qi ignored the intent behind her question. Propping her cheek on her hand, she marveled, “So both of your relationships ended with you getting dumped.”
“No need to dress it up—you got dumped twice.” Tang Lian cut straight to the chase. She lifted a hand to the corner of her eye, pretending to wipe away tears with a pitiful expression. “I already told you, I’m so pitiful. But thankfully, heaven understands the principle of equivalent exchange.”
“It let me meet a soft-hearted goddess this winter.”
Tang Lian gazed at Nan Qi with wide, hopeful eyes.
Who she meant went without saying.
The umbrella Nan Qi had lent out was still safely in her keeping.
Her stare burned too intensely. Nan Qi didn’t dare meet it.
Tang Lian didn’t press her. She’d already gotten her point across, and Nan Qi had clearly understood. Everything else could wait—there would be plenty of time ahead.
After all, the girl was already living right downstairs.
She was determined to make full use of the advantage of proximity.
“By the way, you’ve really never watched any porn clips?”
Nan Qi nodded.
“Never read any yuri manga either?”
Nan Qi nodded again.
“Some things, if Big Sister doesn’t know about them, I can teach you.”
Nan Qi: “?”
For some reason, it felt like there was a conspiracy brewing.
