Chapter 86

The young girl wore vibrant, glamorous stage makeup that accentuated her stunning beauty. Her gossamer, wide-swinging ballet skirt shimmered with iridescent light, romantic and airy. As she moved, she resembled a lively fish darting through water, the layers of sheer fabric fluttering in the air with gentle arcs, casting dazzling rays of divine light across the hearts of onlookers. It felt as if they had arrived on a mysterious planet in the cosmos, afraid to move lest they shatter this breathtaking moment of beauty.

The girl’s beauty was beyond question.

Standing in the center position, she was the pillar of strength for everyone.

At that moment, all the performers backstage were making their final preparations for the stage show about to begin.

But Bo Ranying’s thoughts went beyond that. She tilted her head slightly, parting the curtain with her hand and peering through the ripples it created toward the two VIP seats she had reserved in the audience.

They were empty, plainly visible at a glance.

This was already the sixth show of her tour, and the person she was waiting for still hadn’t come.

Was it because work kept her too busy to remember, or was she deliberately staying away to avoid suspicion?

Bo Ranying pondered silently.

Her brows furrowed into a bitter arc, the bright makeup on her face now tinged with a withered melancholy that clashed horribly.

Suddenly, she recalled past performances when Nan Qi sat in the audience below. Despite her reserved and aloof nature, Nan Qi would hold up a light sign with Bo Ranying’s name amid the crowd, cheering her on like a starstruck fan. At curtain call, she would be the first to rush onstage with flowers, drawing countless curious stares without a care, just so she wouldn’t miss Bo Ranying’s show. She wanted Bo Ranying to shine brightly every moment.

Over time, Bo Ranying had developed the habit of scanning the audience for Nan Qi the moment the performance began, honing her ability to spot her quickly in a noisy throng.

Nan Qi had always been passionate, gentle, and tolerant toward her, never showing the cold indifference she reserved for others.

But at some point, that wonderful Nan Qi had changed. After several instances of heartbreak, humiliation, and regret, Bo Ranying no longer saw her in the audience, eyes brimming with adoration, cheering and lavishly praising her.

Little Qi was truly heartless.

Bo Ranying closed her eyes in heavy sorrow, her throat burning as if she’d downed a large cup of Americano—bitter beyond words.

“Ranran Jie, are you okay?”

Someone suddenly waved a hand in front of her face, looking concerned. “The show’s about to start, and your face looks really pale. Are you nervous?”

Bo Ranying opened her eyes to meet Ye Xingyu’s gaze and the worried looks from the others nearby. She blinked, not wanting to reveal the real reason for her distress. Instead, she calmly accepted Ye Xingyu’s suggestion. “Yeah, nervous.”

Hearing this, her colleagues nodded in understanding and immediately began comforting her in a chorus of voices.

Only Ye Xingyu remained hesitant, still worried about Bo Ranying’s condition. Though the excuse made sense, she felt it didn’t fully explain what was going on in her mind.

For this tour, the troupe had booked double rooms, so she and Bo Ranying shared one. In Ye Xingyu’s memory, Bo Ranying always stayed up very late—sometimes pulling all-nighters. Their days were already packed with high-intensity performances and rehearsals, plus constant flights and transfers. It was nonstop. If this kept up, her body would break down.

What was keeping Ranran Jie awake? If only Ye Xingyu could help.

Bo Ranying had been a caring senior to her since she joined the troupe. Now, Ye Xingyu wanted to return the favor and ease her worries.

As she mulled this over, it was time to take the stage. Without a second thought, her body moved on instinct, displaying her finest dance form.

Bo Ranying composed herself as well. The dejection faded from her face, replaced by the tender, amorous gaze and shy, probing expressions that perfectly matched the stage drama’s plot.

All her focus poured into the performance.

She moved like a perfectly programmed machine, without the slightest pause. Every action mirrored the previous shows exactly, every facial expression frame-for-frame identical—flawless to the extreme.

When it ended, thunderous applause erupted from the audience, mingled with gasps of awe. Every face showed entranced admiration. She kept hearing shouts of “So beautiful!” “I have to see the next one.” “A performance this good—you could watch it a hundred times and never get tired.”

This was validation for their Dance Troupe. All those hours of grueling repetition and nitpicking movements hadn’t been wasted. They reaped the flowers and applause they’d hoped for—reason enough to celebrate.

Bo Ranying’s gaze swept slowly over the bright smiles on the girls’ flawless faces beside her. She curved her lips slightly, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

The show had gone so smoothly, of course she was happy. But… that person hadn’t come. It could never be fully perfect.

Her depression multiplied, overshadowing any joy. She couldn’t smile as purely as the others.

Reluctant fans came for photos, and the girls happily obliged.

The most sought after for pictures was Bo Ranying. Facing fans who loved watching her dance, she tucked away her gloom and turned to the camera with an open, serene smile—like a tireless Little Sun, radiating joyful energy to everyone.

She posed mechanically, numbly for the shots, her heart in turmoil.

Then a familiar voice rang in her ear. “Bo big star’s meet-and-greet is too packed. Can we cut in line?”

Bo Ranying looked up sharply to see Xie Tong approaching with her newlywed wife, Luo Yuqian, her tone full of playful teasing.

They weren’t really cutting; they were just patiently waiting their turn in the crowd, and now it was their moment.

These were the tickets she’d given them at their wedding. She’d said that if they were into ballet and had time, they should come watch. The couple had eagerly agreed—old classmates and bridesmaid’s invitation, they wouldn’t miss it.

At the time, Bo Ranying had seen it as adult politeness, with no real expectations. If they didn’t show, she wouldn’t be upset.

Yet here Xie Tong and Luo Yuqian were, appearing unexpectedly at her show.

Meanwhile, the one person she’d desperately hoped for hadn’t even promised to come—and still hadn’t.

Bo Ranying hid her disappointment and waved shyly. “I’m no big star—don’t say that.”

“I’m thrilled you came to my show. Take as many photos as you want.”

“Then we’re the lucky ones,” Luo Yuqian said with a gentle smile.

After the photos, Bo Ranying treated Xie Tong and Luo Yuqian to a hotpot dinner.

Amid the steaming vapors, the three chatted leisurely.

In front of friends, Bo Ranying dropped her cheerful mask. Her cute little face fell, revealing her true emotions. Even the spicy, flavorful broth tasted bland in her mouth.

Xie Tong and Luo Yuqian, both experienced in matters of the heart, saw right through her lovesick gloom at a glance—like someone on the verge of breaking. After a moment’s thought, not wanting to pressure her, Xie Tong kept her tone light. “How’s it going with Nan Qi? Turned into a clingy little monster to win her back yet?”

Bo Ranying shook her head sadly. “Can’t win her back.”

“She’s… she’s with Tang Lian now. I sent them tickets, invited them to my shows, but they haven’t come to any—not even one.”

Her calm voice cracked with heartbreak.

Xie Tong rubbed her chin and exchanged a glance with her wife. They understood: Bo Ranying had realized too late. Compared to Nan Qi’s girlfriend, her chances looked slim.

It also clicked why Bo Ranying had scanned the audience during the show.

“Maybe,” Xie Tong said carefully, “Tang Lian’s jealous and won’t let her come…”

Bo Ranying’s dull eyes lit up, grasping at the straw like it was salvation, real or not. “So Nan Qi wanted to come, right?!”

Xie Tong and Luo Yuqian: “…”

They didn’t dare confirm it.

Maybe Nan Qi wanted to cut ties and just didn’t want to come.

But the truth was too harsh to voice outright, and Bo Ranying probably knew it deep down.

Without an answer, Bo Ranying still sank into her fantasy.

Her mind spun an alternate ending.

Nan Qi had come—alone, without Tang Lian. She offered flowers as always, whispering sincere praise in her ear: Ranran looks so beautiful tonight.

After the show, she whisked her away from the troupe for a date, confessing she’d broken up with Tang Lian. Her red lips spilled words of joy: I like you. I want to be with you. I want to be your girlfriend.

Bo Ranying agreed without hesitation, terrified this loving Nan Qi was a mirage. She asked, “Will we be together forever?”

The woman promised they would.

Bo Ranying took her hand, leading her to a house. Her voice dreamy and full of longing, she said, “I built this room just for you. Once you move in, we can be together forever. Want to see it?” Her body trembled as she spoke, eyes locked on Nan Qi, dreading refusal.

She could no longer tell dream from reality.

“Sure.” Mercifully, Nan Qi agreed softly.

She pushed open the door herself and stepped into the windowless room devoid of sunlight—

Bo Ranying followed her inside and closed the door behind them. Darkness instantly swallowed the room.

The air faintly carried the sound of heavy iron chains dragging across the floor, stirring up a cloud of dust.

Xie Tong watched as Bo Ranying suddenly fell silent before her. Her expression was serene and peaceful now, no longer obsessing over it, no trace of melancholy. Things seemed to be heading in a better direction, yet Xie Tong felt a chill run down her spine.

It was as if a storm was about to break.

She swallowed hard and ventured tentatively, “Maybe you could find new love like she did. Don’t try to hold on to someone who’s already given up on you—the odds are just too steep against it.”

Her words landed like a spark on Bo Ranying’s frayed nerves.

Bo Ranying whipped her head around and glared fiercely at Xie Tong. “Besides Nan Qi, I don’t want anyone else.”

“I like Little Qi. She’s the only one I like.”

“I don’t want to hear this from you anymore. Don’t say it again, or we’ll stop being friends, got it?”

She delivered the threat with considerable force.

In truth, it was nothing more than a balloon puffed up with bravado—easily popped to reveal the fragility inside.

Tang Lian and Nan Qi’s travel plans unfolded smoothly. Together, they climbed the majestic, treacherous peaks of Yellow Mountain, leaning on their trekking poles for support along the way. They snapped photos of the stunning scenery, felt the cool mountain breeze whipping through, and gazed down at forests that seemed to float in the air. Everywhere they looked, vibrant clouds painted the sky in dazzling colors, so beautiful they hated to look away.

Tang Lian was passionate about extreme sports and thrill-seeking challenges. Whenever she tried one, her face lit up with excitement, as if she had some kind of magic that rubbed off on Nan Qi. Fear mingled with a faint thrill of anticipation in Nan Qi’s heart.

It would be even better if she could do this with her girlfriend, she thought.

But she’d never tried it before, she realized.

Nan Qi’s inner conflict showed plainly on her face, and Tang Lian caught it immediately.

Tang Lian flashed a grin, revealing a neat row of pearly white teeth—playful and alluring. Her voice seemed laced with enchantment as she coaxed Nan Qi to let go of her worries about the consequences, to focus instead on savoring that heart-stopping moment of freefall. It would be enough, she said. Everyone had to go a little crazy at least once to understand the rush, and then they could decide whether to keep chasing it or walk away—no harm either way.

Convinced, Nan Qi steeled herself and marched toward the sixty-meter bungee platform, her little face set in determination. With Tang Lian by her side, she followed the instructor’s cues precisely, got into position… cast one last glance at Tang Lian, toed the edge of the platform, closed her eyes, leaned back, and let one foot dangle into space. Her body plummeted in a rush, the wind roaring in her ears.

Halfway down, she cracked her eyes open just a sliver and caught a blurry glimpse of migratory birds tracing their path through the sky.

Challenges like this required all her mental preparation, yet for some people, they were just everyday routine.

She, too, could be a bird if only for a fleeting moment.

The thought bubbled up out of nowhere.

She reached the lowest point, her body swaying with residual momentum, but now she could make out the ground below—and Tang Lian, not far off, clapping enthusiastically for her.

Her ears still tingled with cold from the rushing air, her heart pounded wildly, yet the novelty of it all sent tremors through her very soul. A radiant smile broke across Nan Qi’s lips, breathtaking in its beauty.

Just then, Tang Lian raised her camera and snapped away furiously, capturing that unselfconscious moment of joy.

The staff hurried over to unhook Nan Qi’s safety harness, freeing her to move again.

Nan Qi started toward Tang Lian to share her bungee-jumping epiphany, but the instant she took a step, her legs buckled, threatening to send her sprawling face-first onto the ground.

Luckily, as she stumbled forward, Tang Lian reached her even faster, catching her steadily. Nan Qi’s face buried deep in Tang Lian’s chest, her nose filled with the fresh scent of chilled yuzu.

After the brief scare came the profound sense of security Tang Lian always provided.

Nan Qi drew in a breath, her excitement surging back to the forefront. Her voice came out muffled against the fabric, but the thrill in her tone was unmistakable. “Lianlian, I did it! I really did it! That first instant of falling was as terrifying as I imagined, but I know I’ll never forget the sensation of plummeting from such heights.”

Tang Lian beamed back at her. “Our Lawyer Nan was amazing.”

“Want to go again?”

Nan Qi stiffened for a second, then hastily demurred in mild panic. “Too much of this thrill in a row would just overwrite the memory of the first time.”

“You’ve got a point.”

Tang Lian nodded along sagely, suppressing her amusement and opting not to call out Nan Qi’s instinctive reluctance.

Later, they jetted off to a lesser-known cluster of overseas islands and booked a seaside guesthouse. Pushing open the window revealed a stunning expanse of deep blue ocean. Seagulls sometimes perched on the sill, framing perfect seascapes with the sky and clouds behind them.

Back home, a cold snap had hit, with people bundling up in long-sleeved jackets and coats against wind and snow.

Their world, by contrast, was paradise.

The sun blazed overhead, the golden shoreline glittered brilliantly, and people of every skin tone lounged on the beach soaking up rays. Lift a corner of your sunglasses, and you could spot lithe figures riding the waves on surfboards just offshore.

Nan Qi was one of the sunbathers, reclining on a beach chair in her black swimsuit, a glass of iced kumquat-lemon tea at hand—the perfect way to beat the heat.

She barely registered the drink, though. Her hand groped vaguely for it from memory, brought it to her lips for an absent sip, but her eyes were locked straight ahead on the figure dashing across the beach with a surfboard tucked under one arm.

Tang Lian had her hair swept up into a high ponytail, secured with a band that also tamed her stray bangs, exposing her smooth, pale forehead. A confident smile played on her lips. As she ran, the thin ties of her swimsuit and her ponytail danced in the wind, evoking a triumphant general returning from battle with her victory banner fluttering boldly—brimming with infectious energy and vitality.

She seemed to have a natural gift for sports that others could only dream of. Tang Lian leaped into the surf, waiting for the next swell. When it crested several meters high, she hopped onto her board and charged right into it. Tossed and turned by the waves, she rode through the peril. Nan Qi’s heart leaped into her throat with worry.

But Tang Lian surfed the peak effortlessly, gliding down unscathed, flashing Nan Qi a smug, proud little grin—like a flower forever turned toward the sun.

Her bare back gleamed in the air, sunlight scattering shimmering flecks across it. From afar, she looked bathed in holy light, dazzling and radiant. Nan Qi stared, entranced, clutching her lemon tea with her lips pressed to the rim, forgetting to drink.

Only when the woman approached, carrying the scent of sun and sea, did Nan Qi snap out of it.

Tang Lian snatched the glass from her hand and drank deeply where Nan Qi’s lips had been moments before, her throat working visibly with each gulp.

“Hey,” Nan Qi blushed at the sight, tempted to warn her that she’d already sipped from it—but Tang Lian looked so parched she swallowed the words. Her girlfriend could do as she pleased. “Take it slow.”

Tang Lian shot her a glance but didn’t slacken, downing it to the dregs before handing back the empty glass with feigned carelessness. “Oops, sorry. Drank it all.”

“No prob—” Nan Qi’s words were cut off midsentence, her mouth suddenly claimed.

In no time, the cool, lemony liquid was passed over from Tang Lian’s lips. Nan Qi melted into the kiss, struggling to hold onto a thread of clarity. So Tang Lian hadn’t actually finished her drink after all.

Nan Qi turned the tables, kissing back with fervor—sucking, licking—until Tang Lian yielded control, a soft moan escaping her lips. Nan Qi’s ears burned.

Though this island wasn’t a famous resort spot, the beach still bustled with strolling crowds.

Nan Qi had no intention of letting anyone else glimpse Tang Lian’s alluring vulnerability. After a moment, she pulled back with restraint and naturally drew Tang Lian into her arms, steadying her racing heart.

They snuggled together on the lounger, Tang Lian’s head pillowed perfectly on Nan Qi’s chest. Her pale fingertips trailed teasingly along Nan Qi’s jaw, down her neck, and settled at the edge of her collarbone, scratching lightly like she was petting a cat.

“Did I look good surfing just now?”

“Gorgeous,” Nan Qi blurted out, enduring the ticklish sensation at her collarbone.