Chapter 89

Hearing Tang Lian’s question, Nan Qi zoned out for a brief moment. It felt like a lifetime ago that someone had snuggled against her chest, whining softly and coquettishly, bombarding her with sweet words until her head spun.

“Little Qi, you’re so good to me.”

“Being with you makes me feel like I’m regressing.”

“If I ever had to leave you one day, I probably couldn’t go on living.”

Those childish, innocent words echoed in her ears.

The emotions from back then had been so real and vivid.

How had she responded?

She had solemnly promised, “As long as Ranran doesn’t chase me away, I’ll never leave.”

She had truly believed she and Bo Ranying would always be that close, that nothing could tear them apart.

She never imagined it would end like this.

She had given up on that long, unrequited crush, breaking free from the heavy chrysalis to rush toward a brand-new world and the happiness within reach.

From then on, her world no longer revolved solely around Bo Ranying.

She could finally see other people.

And she finally understood how wonderful mutual love could be.

Tang Lian’s low, stifled sobs pulled Nan Qi back from her memories.

Seeing Tang Lian curled up like an ostrich hiding away, her rounded shoulders trembling nonstop, her figure looking so forlorn and pitiable, shrouded in gloom as if abandoned, scattered Nan Qi’s thoughts to the winds. She quickly set down her chopsticks and reached out to pull Tang Lian into her arms, gently kissing the hands she had raised to shield her eyes.

She kissed every inch of those fingertips with meticulous tenderness.

It was just like the way Niannian would nuzzle against her when acting cute—soft and gentle, effortlessly drawing away one’s attention.

At the same time, Nan Qi pondered the reason for Tang Lian’s sudden shift in attitude.

Had her earlier hesitation in answering planted seeds of insecurity because she hadn’t been firm enough?

“You’ve cried yourself into a little tabby cat,” she murmured softly, injecting a deliberate lightness into her tone in hopes of lifting Tang Lian’s spirits.

She grabbed a wet wipe and tentatively moved to dab at Tang Lian’s reddened, teary eyes, but just as the wipe neared her eyelids, Tang Lian whimpered and dodged away.

“Mmm… mmm.” Her palms pressed even more tightly over her face.

She felt too much of a mess, too embarrassed to let Nan Qi see her like this.

Nan Qi’s heart sank a little.

She set the wet wipe aside, no longer pushing, giving Tang Lian space to compose herself.

Raising a hand to gently stroke Tang Lian’s fluffy head, her voice was pure and serene, like the first crisp breath of morning air—chilly and invigorating. “Of course I didn’t become good at taking care of people because of anyone else. That’s not the premise at all, and I’ve never treated you like just anyone.”

“In my heart, you’re you—Tang Lian, and no one else.”

“I think about how to make you happy and give you a wonderful experience in love because I like you. That’s why I do all those things.”

“It’s because I like you that I’m willing to do them.”

She laid her feelings bare, word by word, spreading her innermost thoughts out for Tang Lian to see fully, so she wouldn’t worry anymore.

The night would pass, and dawn would arrive as promised. Nan Qi had long decided to welcome the new spring together with Tang Lian.

After a long while, Tang Lian’s uncontrollable soft sobs finally tapered off.

She cautiously parted her fingers, revealing a pair of red, teary eyes.

Seeing that Tang Lian was finally willing to face her calmly, a spark of delight flashed in Nan Qi’s heart. She grew even more careful, mustering her spirits to respond, afraid of pushing Tang Lian back into her shell.

“Really?” Tang Lian’s voice was faint, laced with a fragile, crystalline break—cautious and feeble, carrying an inevitable trace of quiet sorrow, like tentatively touching a crystal ball.

The surface of the crystal ball shimmered with rainbow lights, sparkling and brilliant, holding countless beautiful dreams. Yet she approached with such care, fearing it was all an illusion that would shatter at her touch.

Faced with such wariness, Nan Qi responded with the same firmness as before.

Tang Lian’s gaze locked tightly onto her face, not missing the slightest change in expression, still riddled with anxiety. “Then… can you say those words again, right in front of me…?”

In her earlier panic and self-pity, she hadn’t properly observed Nan Qi’s face while she spoke those reassuring words, so she had no idea what expressions had accompanied them.

She was too insecure to trust just the sound of Nan Qi’s voice.

She needed to see it with her own eyes to believe it.

Could she truly erase Bo Ranying’s place in Nan Qi’s heart and become her number one?

After they got together, Tang Lian had lost that confidence.

“Mm,” Nan Qi nodded, her gaze intense as she stared at Tang Lian. Just as requested, she patiently dissected her feelings again and again, telling her how much she liked her, that everything stemmed from love.

The process dragged on for quite a while, but Tang Lian finally relaxed, able to interact with her naturally once more. They continued enjoying their trip together.

Yet things rarely unfold as one hopes.

At some point, their sightseeing and admiration of scenic wonders had morphed into holing up in hotels across various cities.

Nan Qi’s enthusiasm was ignited, and she delighted in endlessly experimenting with new positions and techniques on Tang Lian, determined to leave her girlfriend a quivering, defeated mess. She especially savored the pleasure of satisfying her delicate, soft-bodied lover.

She was utterly devoted, infatuated beyond measure.

Whenever they were together, Tang Lian saw only herself reflected in Nan Qi’s eyes.

Naturally, she was pleased with Nan Qi’s demeanor and happy to be led into these explorations.

But often, she felt an unreal sense of floating on clouds.

Insecure and grasping, her heart felt hollow, terrified that this happiness might slip away.

In many moments, Tang Lian racked her brains scrutinizing Nan Qi’s expressions, pondering through tiny details whether Nan Qi truly loved her.

She hated this side of herself but couldn’t rein in her wandering, negative thoughts.

Tang Lian finished applying her makeup and sat primly before the vanity mirror, her back ramrod straight. The pre-set alarm chimed on time. She lowered her eyes, ignoring it, her hands clutching her purse tightly as if it held a snarling beast. Her face paled slightly, though the foundation concealed it well.

She and Nan Qi had planned to head out soon to stroll through the ancient town.

Tucked inside the purse were actually two tickets gifted by Bo Ranying, now creased from her repeated fingering.

She wavered over what to do next, unable to make up her mind.

But she truly lacked the confidence.

She thought she should go watch Bo Ranying’s performance to test whether Nan Qi had truly moved on.

“Lianlian, isn’t it time we head out?” Suddenly, a soft, sweet body pressed against her from behind, accompanied by that cool, upturned voice. Arms wrapped around her neck, interrupting her secret turmoil.

She looked up into a pair of smiling, crescent eyes.

She froze for a moment.

Her restless heart quieted. She wanted confirmation from those eyes.

She wanted to know if, once they reached the theater, those eyes would still hold only her.

“Mm, time to go.” Tang Lian nodded, speaking softly.

Without question, Nan Qi took her hand.

“There are lots of people outside. Hold on tight to me, little one.”

Tang Lian fought back the urge to cry and gripped Nan Qi’s hand firmly in return.