Chapter 40

“Many people love this drink. Last time, I heard you say you liked the signature fruit tea from this shop…”

Su Tian’s voice grew softer and softer because she noticed Gu Liuguang looking at her very seriously—different from before. She inexplicably grew nervous, not knowing where to put her hands and feet.

“Thanks for your kind intentions.” Gu Liuguang sighed, somewhat troubled. She had already rejected her yesterday and thought that after sending her to work today, she wouldn’t come looking for her again. In her view, Su Tian didn’t like her to the point of it being no one else.

But dragging it out without resolving it could lead to who-knows-what. Although keeping a relationship with Su Tian might help the later plot a little, Gu Liuguang didn’t want to drag her into it.

Yesterday’s tears had still touched Gu Liuguang’s conscience a bit.

“You shouldn’t come find me anymore from now on. I already have someone I like.” Gu Liuguang spoke while scrutinizing Su Tian’s expression. This time, she looked much more serious, afraid Su Tian would accuse her of making excuses to brush her off.

The smile on Su Tian’s face faltered at once, and her whole body seemed to sway. She steadied herself on the motorcycle, the bag of fruit tea in her hand rustling loudly. Her tone feigned nonchalance: “So what? You two aren’t together yet. I… just wanted to bring you some fruit tea.”

Su Tian lowered her head and stared blankly at the fruit tea in her hand. Realizing Gu Liuguang was still standing there, she looked up again and shoved the fruit tea into Gu Liuguang’s hands, acting like she had somewhere to be: “My friend is waiting for me. I’m heading out first.”

Having never dealt with something like this, Gu Liuguang watched as Su Tian turned away—her eyes red-rimmed, her loose hair swaying to cover her profile. For her first time steadying the bike, she nearly failed to hold it up. She twisted the throttle and said to Gu Liuguang: “You head back.”

Gu Liuguang stood in place without moving and quickly hung the fruit tea on the motorcycle’s handlebar. Helplessly, she said: “If this keeps up, it’ll cause me trouble. Su Tian, you really shouldn’t come find me anymore.”

Her response was Su Tian’s back as she fled in panic.

By the time she finally made it home, it was already past three in the morning. She had been utterly exhausted before, but now that she had relaxed, her energy picked up a bit. After sitting on the sofa for a short while, Gu Liuguang got up to take a shower.

Once she tidied up and came out, Gu Liuguang began checking her messages. Lin Shixia had sent some to the Liuguang account—mostly sharing filming daily life along with some itinerary details.

The last ones mentioned inviting her to dinner and expressed great anticipation for their meeting.

Gu Liuguang played the little fan as usual, lavishing praise while logging into Weibo to check in at the Super Topic, post photos, and boost engagement—all in one smooth go.

Lin Shixia had just wrapped shooting and was chatting with Gu Liuguang from the car back to her hotel. They only exchanged a few messages before she had to go shower and get ready for bed.

Gu Liuguang chatted idly with her while pondering what to do with this account. In the end, she decided to keep it hidden for now.

Whether it was Gu Shuang, Ye Qingying, or anyone else, the account she was using to add people right now was her work account, Little Light. If necessary, she could just add the important ones back with this one.

With that settled, Gu Liuguang clicked on the latest episode of Tian Dao and began checking messages on the Guangzai Account.

She had rushed out today and, after confirming that suspects one, two, and three probably weren’t Lin Shixia, got caught up replying to messages without revoking the pin.

Opening WeChat showed messages from all three.

Fox had messaged her that afternoon, likely timed for her getting off work—just the usual caring check-in, asking why she had switched to afternoon streams and subtly inquiring about any work troubles.

After about half an hour with no reply, probably assuming she was home, Fox mentioned ordering takeout for her.

No further messages after that. Normally, Gu Liuguang would dissect it for clues, but now she simply leaned tiredly on the sofa.

The tablet kept playing. Yao Xia had turned villainous and was thick as thieves with the antagonists. Bullet comments split between those immersing themselves as the protagonist team to call Yao Xia disgusting and a small faction simping for her looks who said it was captivating.

Lin Shixia’s Yao Xia had exquisitely refined styling in the drama—even more outfits than the leads.

Plenty of people stirred drama claiming Lin Shixia was shoved in by backers, but to Gu Liuguang, it was obvious their core costumes simply couldn’t compete with hers. Swap faces and see, of course. She was too lazy to argue with the comments, though.

After five minutes of playback—with Lin Shixia briefly offline—Gu Liuguang exited the chat with Fox and turned to the messages from suspects two and three out of curiosity.

Heartthrob Player had barely messaged all day, sending only one shortly after Gu Liuguang got home.

-Heartthrob Player: Just got off work. Too bad I missed Little Light’s stream today.

-Heartthrob Player: The night is so beautiful tonight. If only the person I like was here by my side.

It was followed by a photo of the night sky—the signature blue-black of a summer evening, bright moon hanging high amid wind-swayed branches.

The moon was squeezed right in the middle of a cluster of leaves, veiled by faint clouds in a hazy, unattainable glow.

Gu Liuguang didn’t grasp her point, but the “person I like” in the second message set off high alert.

She had nearly stumbled into someone else’s relationship drama the day before yesterday—no way was she doing that again.

Her fatigued mind jolted awake as she carefully considered whether she had somehow become the other woman. Heartthrob Player had never mentioned a crush or partner before.

They had known each other a long time now. Folks had doxxed Xi Xia in under a day, so netizens were capable enough. If Heartthrob Player had a partner while showering gifts like that, it would’ve been out long ago.

Gu Liuguang relaxed slightly but stayed tense—she couldn’t take more drama like this. She unpinned the chat. She had already doubted it was Lin Shixia before; now she was even more convinced it wasn’t.

After some internal debate, Gu Liuguang didn’t block her.

Please Hide Your Heart Well was more direct, messaging around 11 PM to say she was in A City on business and ask if she had time for dinner.

A location pin followed the invite.

Lin Shixia was still in B City, so it was impossible for her to be in A City—this ruled Please Hide Your Heart Well out entirely.

Pure curiosity made Gu Liuguang tap it. She paused, then realized: wasn’t this the bar she had gone to tonight?

Nothing more crossed her mind.

Truly unrelated to the plot. Gu Liuguang vexedly tugged at her hair, casually set the boss to do-not-disturb—Zhang Ze might keep hounding with questions otherwise.

Just as she went to lock her phone screen, her eyes flicked down to a new message from Zhang Xibai, asking if she had decided on a day to request leave.

End of the month meant B City; after that, more waiting, and the destination would shift to C City.

Gu Liuguang didn’t reply right away. Instead, she messaged Ye Qingying.

Ye Qingying’s WeChat avatar was a screenshot from a role she had once played; her display name was Ye Qingying.

Only after sending did Gu Liuguang remember: Ye Qingying wasn’t her usual doting boss who replied anytime. She was probably home asleep by now.

Sending a message this late might wake her—maybe no reply until tomorrow. But even as she thought that, Ye Qingying responded quickly.

It was a video call request. Gu Liuguang startled and hung up on reflex—bosses sometimes popped video calls out of nowhere, and she always declined out of habit.

Before she could explain, Ye Qingying sent a voice message.

-“Pressed the wrong button… I’m heading out these next few days—right to B City. If you’ve got time, come with me. If not…” She chuckled twice. “Then it’ll have to wait till next time.”

Now it was Gu Liuguang’s turn to hesitate. Zhang Xibai was clearly out of character, but Ye Qingying was Lin Shixia’s official shipmate. What if the two hit it off? How would she advance the plot then?

After mulling it over, she recalled Ye Qingying mentioning Gu Shuang and Lin Shixia were aunt and niece—meaning Ye Qingying knew Lin Shixia.

She messaged: “Will Sister Gu Shuang be coming too?”

Ye Qingying took forever typing before sending a voice note, as if annoyed by the hassle: “If you want her along, I can invite her. If not, I won’t. Either way, it’s a promise I made… Plenty of time left. Take your time thinking.”

In the end, Gu Liuguang dozed off in a daze. When she woke, she was still groggy. The tablet on the table had died, and even her phone had auto-shutdown from low battery.

After agonizing late into the night yesterday, Gu Liuguang decided to push forward the plot of meeting Lin Shixia first. She asked Ye Qingying if they could leave today and got an affirmative reply before dozing off amid her hesitation.

A few seconds after waking, Gu Liuguang made up her mind: B City today.

She charged her phone, then packed her luggage—just like for A City: two simple changes of clothes, suspender dresses to keep the load light.

Everything fit in one backpack. Next, she powered on her phone and messaged Ye Qingying that she was ready, sending her neighborhood address.

While at it, she requested leave from Zhang Ze and told Zhang Xibai she had family matters back home—they could discuss meeting up after she returned.

Only then did Gu Liuguang notice something off. She asked the System: 【When Gu Shuang dropped me off yesterday, did she ask for my neighborhood address?】

The System crackled for a while before grumbling: 【Don’t remember.】

Gu Liuguang found it odd: 【You’re an intelligent system—don’t you remember things?】

The System huffed: 【Mind your own business.】

Gu Liuguang dropped it since she couldn’t remember herself either. She only pondered for two seconds before deciding it wasn’t important.

Her phone pinged with a new message. Thinking it was Ye Qingying at the neighborhood gate, she picked it up—only to see it was from Gu Shuang, saying she had ordered breakfast from Lin Private Kitchen, due to arrive in about fifteen minutes.

Gu Liuguang stared at the message for a moment, then held down the voice button and sent: “Sister, what a coincidence. My ex-girlfriend likes ordering breakfast from this place for me too.”