Chapter 90 Part 2

It was a glimpse that seared into her heart.

Bo Ranying had invited her to watch her practice. At first, Nan Qi wasn’t used to crowds, so she only went when Bo Ranying was practicing alone in the studio. She savored those moments of private bliss—no one else around, just her, quietly watching Bo Ranying dance without interruption.

Over time, they grew familiar with each other.

They joked around and called each other by affectionate nicknames, no longer using full formal names.

Everyone could see Bo Ranying’s extraordinary talent for dance.

As her skills improved, the crowds drawn to her performances only grew larger.

Eventually, Nan Qi started attending packed events too, sitting in the best-view seat that Bo Ranying always reserved for her. Everyone knew this was special treatment—Nan Qi held a unique place in Bo Ranying’s heart.

In time, amid the roaring crowds, Nan Qi learned to enjoy Bo Ranying’s captivating dances, tuning out everyone else. In her eyes, there was only Bo Ranying.

But the clamor in her ears grew louder, and more and more people wanted to shower Bo Ranying with flowers each day.

Youthful and hot-blooded, Nan Qi felt a surge of indignation deep inside. One day, she impulsively cornered Bo Ranying in the dressing room, her eyes rimmed red, her voice thick with grievance. “Ranran, this isn’t fair.”

She charged in aggressively, like a nimble little deer looming over the high stool. She trapped Bo Ranying in the narrow gap between the stool and the vanity, her legs nearly brushing Bo Ranying’s knees.

Hearing Nan Qi’s accusatory words, Bo Ranying looked momentarily confused.

She parted her lips and let out a puzzled “Ah?”

Then she tilted her head attentively, eager to understand why Nan Qi felt this way.

When Nan Qi burst in, Bo Ranying had been applying blush, brushing a light layer of pink with a hint of shimmering flecks onto one cheek. The way her eyes sparkled as she moved made hearts flutter.

Nan Qi glanced once and couldn’t tear her eyes away. Her gaze lingered on the untouched, pale side of Bo Ranying’s face. Suddenly, she felt embarrassed, like a petty child throwing a tantrum.

Shame burned through her, and she wanted to flee.

But then…

She couldn’t resist as Bo Ranying set aside her blush brush, turning her full attention to Nan Qi. Tilting her face up toward her, she looked so earnest and adorable while listening.

After a brief internal tug-of-war, Nan Qi surrendered and raised the white flag.

She spoke faster, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Every time I enter the venue, you’re the first thing I see—and the last. No one else can steal my attention. You just glance my way, and you spot me watching you right away.”

“But Ranran, on that dazzling stage, with crowds coming to see you, everyone below must look like blurry shadows to you—including me.”

“The way I watch you, I’m always exposed. I never know… if Ranran even sees me. I want… to be seen by Ranran too.”

Her voice grew quieter, as if saying those words had drained all her strength.

On the other side, Bo Ranying, now understanding, let out a helpless chuckle.

She looked all fierce at first, like she wanted to bulldoze every obstacle—just to get her attention, huh~

The Class President is so cute!

Unable to resist the urge to squish her cheeks affectionately, Bo Ranying laughed softly and reached out to pinch Nan Qi’s soft cheek, stretching that usually calm, composed face into an exaggerated pout. Not satisfied, she pressed her own cheek against Nan Qi’s and nuzzled for a good long while.

Nan Qi couldn’t dodge in time and let Bo Ranying have her way.

When they finally pulled apart, Nan Qi’s face was redder than the blushed side of Bo Ranying’s.

“Who says I don’t see you?! Don’t pin that on me.” Bo Ranying pouted in protest.

“Little Qi, let’s make a promise—just between us.”

Nan Qi blinked in a daze. “What kind of promise?”

“Whenever I spot you there, I’ll…”

As she spoke, Bo Ranying flashed Nan Qi a bright smile, revealing a sweet dimple on one cheek.

At first, Nan Qi didn’t notice anything special.

But when Bo Ranying tilted her head, Nan Qi realized: she was smiling with only one dimple showing.

Even though she clearly had two.

“That’s our secret signal, Little Qi. Remember it.”

“I will.”

And now, Nan Qi saw the same thing again.

Everyone thought Bo Ranying was acting out the heroine’s feelings for the prince.

But only she knew Bo Ranying was using their signal to tell her: I see you.

Nan Qi watched Bo Ranying’s entire performance in a daze. Only when people around her started standing to leave, and the venue’s lights flicked on, did she suddenly realize how long it had been since her girlfriend had spoken—and how much she’d neglected Tang Lian.

She turned her head hurriedly, only to meet Tang Lian’s leisurely gaze, as if she’d been waiting patiently.

Those dark, bright eyes hid her emotions deeply, leaving Nan Qi unable to read what Tang Lian was thinking.

But she could feel it: Tang Lian wasn’t happy.

At least, it was worlds apart from how she’d been during their earlier trip.

Nan Qi’s throat felt dry and tight for no reason.

Tang Lian parted her lips, delivering her first comment of the night in a calm tone—like praise, but lacking genuine appreciation. “Miss Bo certainly lives up to her reputation.”

The out-of-the-blue remark made sense to Nan Qi. She knew Tang Lian had once searched online for Bo Ranying in front of her, learning about the string of awards tied to her name.

Nan Qi pressed her lips together and probed cautiously, “Lianlian, are you jealous?”

The question hit like a spark. Tang Lian’s defenses shot up instantly, her denial perfected to an art. Her expression showed no flicker of emotion. “No, I’m just giving an objective review.”

Nan Qi stared at her for two seconds, only half convinced.

Tang Lian pressed her lips into a thin line and fell silent.

She was afraid that if she spoke, she’d give away how much she cared.

Gradually, the crowd ebbed away like a receding tide. Everyone in their row had left, leaving just the two of them.

The world fell into a brief hush.

A text notification shattered the quiet.

Nan Qi pulled out her phone. Her brows furrowed slightly at the sender, then she angled the screen toward Tang Lian.

Tang Lian glanced up, her eyes skimming the message.

It was from Bo Ranying:

【Don’t leave yet. Let’s meet up.】

Even through text, Tang Lian could sense the girl’s excitement, urgency, and worry.

She knew how much Bo Ranying missed Nan Qi—and how, since they’d gotten together, Nan Qi almost never met her alone anymore.

That worry probably stemmed from fear of missing this chance, unsure when the next one might come.

Tang Lian curled her fingers—the nails Nan Qi had helped paint with glossy polish just days ago—digging absently into her palm. It didn’t hurt, but she felt it clearly.

She felt ridiculous, so petty.

Part of her wanted to hide Nan Qi away, keep her all to herself, out of sight.

But another part thought: since they’d already watched the show, why not observe more closely?

In the end, the latter won out. Acting on impulse, she leaned over Nan Qi’s hand holding the phone and quickly typed back: 【Sure.】

The sent notification soon changed to read.

Nan Qi, who had watched the whole thing, widened her beautiful eyes in shock. “What are you doing?”

Tang Lian gave her a radiant smile, as if Nan Qi was overreacting, her tone light and cheerful. “Accompanying you to see an old friend, of course.”

Nan Qi was left speechless.

She didn’t argue, though—because she noticed Tang Lian’s mood had lifted after sending the reply.

Fine, let her have her fun.

That simple two-word reply set Bo Ranying’s heart ablaze.

She rushed through the organizers’ backstage interview in a haze of impatience, then changed out of her glamorous gown without a moment’s delay and hurried toward Nan Qi.

From afar, she spotted Nan Qi’s figure—and Tang Lian’s as well.

The two of them leaned close together like lovers. Their posture wasn’t especially intimate, but anyone watching would sense the affection flowing between them, endless and unwavering. No one would mistake them for mere friends.

Bo Ranying slowed her steps involuntarily, and her heart felt as if it had been sliced open by a dull knife. Cold wind poured in through the wound, chilling her overheated emotions in an instant.

Once upon a time, she and Nan Qi had shared countless such moments.

Her final few steps weren’t so much walking as drifting.

She was like a butterfly that had wandered for ages, lost and battered by perils, finally alighting lightly before the most brilliant and beautiful flower.

After a brief greeting, Bo Ranying invited the pair to a nearby tea restaurant with a cozy atmosphere. Spending even a little more time with Nan Qi was a blessing for her.

Even if Tang Lian tagged along, it didn’t matter—she would simply tune her out.

When they sat down, Bo Ranying habitually took the inside seat, leaving the spot beside her for Nan Qi.

This was a habit formed over years of friendship with Nan Qi: sitting on the inside meant no need to worry about servers bringing dishes or yielding space to others. She could simply relax and enjoy, knowing Nan Qi would handle everything. She could lean against her shamelessly, treating her like a life-sized doll to rest upon.

Bo Ranying waited expectantly for the seat beside her to be filled, her gaze fixed openly on Nan Qi, her intentions clear in her eyes.

One second, two seconds—and the elegant, upright figure brushed past her.

All that lingered was a faint, clean scent like snow grass, drifting briefly past her nose. It was Nan Qi’s fragrance.

She had switched to a new perfume.

Bo Ranying had never smelled it before. It must be… a gift from Tang Lian.

In a moment, Nan Qi had settled across from her with Tang Lian in tow, their shoulders touching without a sliver of space between them.

Jealousy sprouted and grew like weeds. Bo Ranying averted her eyes.

Just then, a server handed over the menus. She snatched one up, flipping it open and holding it like a shield to hide her panic and envy, leaving no trace.

She quickly ordered her and Nan Qi’s must-haves from the tea restaurant’s signature list, then slid the menu toward Tang Lian with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that, Tang Lian. We’ve spent so little time together that I don’t know your preferences or allergies. I just ordered for Little Qi instead.”

She was deliberately flaunting how long she had known Nan Qi.

Petty as it was, she wanted some leverage in front of Tang Lian.

You’re just a recent addition to Nan Qi’s life, while I’ve been ahead of you by years. I haven’t lost.

Bo Ranying refused to believe—or admit—that her own avoidance had cost her Nan Qi.

The mere thought filled her with such regret she wanted to spit blood.