Ye Sheng mentioned that a fantastic sci-fi movie had just hit theaters. She and her husband had already seen it and were planning a rewatch. She suggested Nan Qi make time to check it out.
If Nan Qi were still her old workaholic self, Ye Sheng never would have made the recommendation.
But ever since Tang Lian had entered the picture, Nan Qi’s life wasn’t completely consumed by work anymore. She could find someone to spend her downtime with—maybe even go on a date.
Ye Sheng left it at that. Nan Qi mulled it over for a moment. Sci-fi was Tang Lian’s favorite genre, and she didn’t have overtime tonight. She could check the showtimes later. “Got it. I’ll go when I have time.”
“Then I’m heading out.”
Ye Sheng waved goodbye to Nan Qi. Her husband was waiting downstairs to drive her to the theater.
“Mm, bye-bye.”
Once Ye Sheng was gone, Nan Qi promptly bought two tickets for a nearby cinema and screenshotted the details for Tang Lian.
【Got time tonight? A coworker says this movie’s amazing. It’s starring Xu Qiaoqiao—her acting is top-notch. I bought an extra ticket. Too much of a waste to go alone. Wanna come?】
After sending the message, Nan Qi felt a spark of excitement, like a string in her mind had plucked twice.
In all their time together, she rarely took the initiative to ask Tang Lian out.
Most of their hangouts had been arranged single-handedly by Tang Lian.
But after Ye Sheng’s heart-to-heart, enlightenment dawned on Nan Qi. If only one person was putting in the effort to advance their relationship, it was far too exhausting. She couldn’t leave all the heavy lifting to Tang Lian. So she resolved to step forward herself, to meet her halfway.
She trusted that sharp Tang Lian would see right through her flimsy, full-of-holes excuse and grasp the signal she was sending. Nan Qi had complete faith in her.
Meanwhile, Tang Lian was at home, staring down a pile of colorful yarn balls with a look of utter misery.
A crocheting tutorial video played on the projector screen. Yarn clutched in one hand, hook in the other, she listened intently to the narrator’s instructions, her movements a frantic mess.
“How do I get this yarn through that loop? I’m following the tutorial exactly—why isn’t it working?”
Tang Lian muttered in frustration. For the first time, she felt her hands weren’t clever enough. She could do makeup, paint, even stitch up wounds… but yarn was her nemesis.
She began to despair, second-guessing the viral confession tip she’d stumbled across lately.
“They say handmade knitwear given on Christmas boosts your success odds. But is it legit?”
“It’s not even Christmas yet, and I can’t just piggyback on other people’s online wishes.”
Tang Lian’s moods had been rollercoasting thanks to Nan Qi’s cool demeanor. She was desperate to secure her place as Nan Qi’s girlfriend and finally put her heart at ease.
She had to chase even the slimmest chance.
The moment she saw that rumor, she bought it hook, line, and sinker—and ordered yarn balls in every color online.
It sounded perfect: handmade showed sincerity, upping the confession success rate.
Unsure of Nan Qi’s favorite hue, she went overboard and bought a ton.
She picked up skills quickly and made her living with her hands. Surely crocheting couldn’t be that hard.
Others might knit a simple scarf, but she’d go big—a full set: socks, scarf, gloves, hat, neck gaiter, earmuffs. That way, every piece would have a shot at adorning Nan Qi, leaving no room for refusal.
The idea was plump and perfect. Reality hit like a bag of bones.
Tang Lian gazed at the yarn chaos, on the verge of tears. Forget a set—with her utter lack of yarn skills, she might not manage a single item.
Then Nan Qi’s message pinged in. As Tang Lian read it, joy surged, nearly launching her from her seat.
Her fingers hovered over “OK,” ready to hit send.
Nan! Qi! Was! Asking! Her! Out! To! A! Movie! Massive breakthrough!
All those times she’d clung to Nan Qi’s side, reminding her of her presence—it had paid off. Nan Qi had finally made the first move.
But—
Her eyes fell on the tangled yarn mess beside her. The thrill ebbed, her smile fading to neutral.
She couldn’t even master the basic chain stitch. How could she cave to this temptation now?
The early bird gets the worm—or in her case, the slow one had to start flying first. She needed to grind practice and crochet something gift-worthy before Christmas.
Gritting her teeth, Tang Lian painfully deleted “OK” and crafted a refusal instead.
【Ah! I want to go so bad. I’m a huge Xu Qiaoqiao fan too. But work just notified overtime—can’t make it QAQ.】
【You already bought the tickets—what about the extra one?】
【Big Sister, just refund it. You go ahead; we’ll catch a new movie together next time.】
【I don’t want to go alone.】
The implication was crystal clear: Nan Qi had bought that extra ticket specifically for her.
Tang Lian’s heart twisted harder, her resolve wavering. One voice screamed to ditch everything for a date with Nan Qi; the other urged her to stay strong, keep practicing, and not blow the bigger opportunity for a quick thrill.
【Tickets aren’t refundable. Movie starts in thirty minutes. Wasting’s not cool.】
【Why’d you buy such a last-minute showing?】
【Come on down. Car’s parked outside. I can see your lights on.】
Tang Lian’s heart skipped in panic. Busted! Caught lying by Nan Qi. Could she still flick off the lights…?
Or maybe just give in to her heart for once. A little rule-bending with Big Sister wouldn’t hurt.
She talked herself into it, set the yarn aside, and typed carefully across the screen: 【Big Sister, I didn’t mean to fib about overtime. Just had a little evening thing—not super important. Heading down now.】
【It’s not that urgent. Still fifty minutes till showtime. No need to rush.】
【Okay, just changing real quick then down.】
Tang Lian’s eyes crinkled with delight. Heart blooming, she dove into her closet to pick an outfit for the night, her mind replaying Nan Qi’s unusually dogged insistence on their date.
After finishing her chat with Tang Lian from the law firm, Nan Qi drove straight to Hanhai Garden.
She puzzled over Tang Lian’s sudden weirdness.
A simple rejection had sparked her suspicion, so she’d tested the waters—and sure enough, exposed Tang Lian’s little white lie.
What on earth was she up to?
Something she couldn’t say outright, pretending to be at work while safe at home?
Nan Qi drew a blank on any logical explanation.
She’d just pulled up downstairs when Tang Lian emerged from the building.
The woman sported a fresh, breezy date makeup look and a radiant smile. She hurried over and waved. “Big Sister, sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Not at all.”
Nan Qi opened the passenger door for her and asked offhandedly, “What were you busy with at home earlier?”
The words had barely left her mouth when Tang Lian went rigid, her smile freezing. Two seconds ticked by before she replied, “Just chatting work stuff on the phone with a college classmate.”
“Enough of that. Movie time—I don’t want to miss it.”
Tang Lian glanced at the clock, putting on a show of urgency to get them moving.
No way was she admitting to crocheting. That would spoil the surprise.
“Seatbelt.”
Nan Qi reminded her. “Need a hand buckling it?”
She delivered the line with a straight face, but the teasing lilt was unmistakable.
Spending so much time with Tang Lian had rubbed off on her, for better or worse.
Tang Lian blinked in surprise. Everything today felt like a gift. Nan Qi was acting so out of character—in the best way.
She spread her arms wide, making room. “Sure.”
But the instant Nan Qi leaned in, she regretted it.
The tall woman shifted half her body over, gazing down at her face-to-face. Her chin hovered less than a fist’s width from Tang Lian’s nose as she leisurely drew the belt across her chest and clicked it home with a crisp snap.
Nan Qi settled back into her seat, perfectly composed, and pulled away from the curb.
Tang Lian’s face flushed crimson. Her mind replayed Nan Qi’s cool, restrained expression during the whole thing—the intimacy of it all. So close she’d spotted the fine fuzz on Nan Qi’s cheeks. Adorably pinchable. She wanted to reach out right then.
She floated in a daze all the way to the theater.
Only when a ticket was pressed into her hand did it sink in: she was here on a date with Nan Qi.
When they emerged from the cinema later, Tang Lian couldn’t recall a single plot point.
She’d watched it—or tried to.
The stunning effects, airtight storyline, and stellar performances? Not a blip in her memory.
Her one vivid recollection: reaching for the popcorn bucket in the armrest, only for Nan Qi’s hand to arrive at the same moment. Their fingers intertwined around the tub, Nan Qi’s palm settling over the back of hers.
Slender fingers, soft and faintly cool.
Tang Lian’s warmth seeped in, gradually turning that cool touch comfortably warm.
The dark environment fueled her with boundless impulse and courage. Tang Lian slowly shifted the popcorn to the armrest on the other side, then reached back and clasped Nan Qi’s hand, which had accidentally stretched toward her.
Nan Qi didn’t pull away.
Tang Lian’s heart thundered in her chest. She didn’t grip it tightly, merely holding it loosely, giving Nan Qi every chance to slip free.
Yet even after the movie ended, Nan Qi’s hand remained nestled in her palm, refusing to let go.
When the lights came up and the crowd began to disperse, Nan Qi took the lead. She gripped Tang Lian’s hand firmly, half-embracing her as they made their way toward the exit to shield her from the jostling throng or any risk of stumbling.
They didn’t release each other until they reached the parking lot.
Tang Lian spent the entire evening savoring the sensation of that handhold. By the time they arrived at her neighborhood, she had completely forgotten to refuse Nan Qi’s offer to walk her home.
Dazed, she trailed behind Nan Qi all the way to her door. Only when she fished out her keys to unlock it and bid farewell did reality snap back.
“Won’t you invite me in for a cup of tea?”
Nan Qi smiled warmly, striking at the perfect moment when Tang Lian was most off-guard.
She was certain Tang Lian’s home hid some secret tied to her unusual refusal that evening.
Tang Lian panicked at the sudden request. She spun around, blocking the doorway with her body, and forced a smile. “It’s too late, Big Sister. You should head home and rest.”
“I’m thirsty.”
“After treating Miss Tang to a movie, can’t I at least get a cup of tea?”
Her words flooded Tang Lian with guilt, making her feel that refusing any longer would be unconscionable.
“Fine, fine. I’ll pour you some tea, but wait here. Don’t come in until I call for you.”
Tang Lian issued the hurried instructions, then jammed her key into the lock. Her hands shook with nerves, and it took her a few tries to line it up. She pushed the door open just wide enough to slip inside and slammed it shut behind her.
The sharp click of the deadbolt echoed clearly.
Now Nan Qi was even more curious.
