Chapter 76

Leng Xiang lifted her wrist, letting Jiang Sisi see the cup in her hand. “I came out to get some water.”

She took small sips from the cup, casually saying, “I thought you weren’t coming back to sleep tonight.”

Jiang Sisi held Xiangxiang and stroked its fur. “Without Xiangxiang by my side, I can’t fall asleep.”

She had left Xiangxiang in the Love Cottage and hadn’t taken it with her, so naturally, she had to come back to sleep.

Jiang Sisi walked in holding Xiangxiang. Leng Xiang held her cup, half-covering her face, and looked up at her.

Leng Xiang wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but she felt Jiang Sisi’s gaze lingering on her—though not meeting her eyes, but a bit lower, at her chin.

That was…

Leng Xiang bit the rim of her cup, her eyelids drooping low, a faint blush quietly spreading across her ears.

Jiang Sisi was staring at her throat.

She had come out in her pajamas to get water. The neckline was already low, and though she had thrown on a jacket, it didn’t cover much. Below her throat were delicate collarbones, and further down, a expanse of fair skin flushed pink, with the faint outline of her body’s curves.

Leng Xiang’s throat moved involuntarily as she swallowed, her chest rising and falling.

She felt that gaze on her grow even more intense.

Jiang Sisi finally realized her rudeness and looked away.

Xiangxiang jumped down from Jiang Sisi’s arms and circled around Leng Xiang’s feet, meowing.

They had seen and touched everything before—every inch of Leng Xiang’s skin had been explored by her. So why was she suddenly staring so intently, unable to look away?

Jiang Sisi coughed lightly. “The skin below your collarbone is all red. Are you having an allergic reaction?”

Hearing this, Leng Xiang hurriedly looked down at her collarbone. She couldn’t see it clearly, only the patch of skin below.

It was indeed all red.

She had a habit of absentmindedly pinching the skin near her collarbone when she was thinking, which easily left it red.

Leng Xiang quickly reached up to cover the red patch, then felt she was overreacting and lowered her hand. “It’s nothing. I pinched it myself.”

In her distraction, she set her cup down on the water dispenser. As she reached to cover herself earlier, her elbow had bumped it, and now the cup teetered precariously on top.

With quick reflexes, Jiang Sisi stepped forward and reached out to steady Leng Xiang’s cup.

Jiang Sisi’s sudden closeness made Leng Xiang’s breath catch. She stepped back, her back slamming straight into the water dispenser.

In the previously quiet living room, there was suddenly a loud “bang.”

The air froze. Leng Xiang didn’t dare move.

Her heart pounded like a drum. She blinked, looking at Jiang Sisi, while inwardly berating herself.

From leaving the set to entering the Love Diary program group, she and Jiang Sisi had interacted perfectly in front of the cameras, without any awkwardness. But now, alone together, the atmosphere had completely changed.

Amid her annoyance, her ears turned bright red.

A tiny spark of anticipation quietly rose in her heart.

Jiang Sisi took the cup from the dispenser, waved it in front of her, then steadily placed it on the nearby coffee table and stepped back, creating some distance.

“Your cup almost fell and smashed. Be careful,” said Jiang Sisi.

“…”

Leng Xiang silently cursed herself a thousand times inwardly.

She was just helping steady your cup—what were you doing? What were you thinking!

After setting the cup down, Jiang Sisi turned toward the kitchen and casually asked, “Is there anything to eat?”

“Didn’t you have dinner?” asked Leng Xiang.

Jiang Sisi opened the fridge, her fingers brushing over the ingredients inside as she said over her shoulder, “No, I forgot while editing footage.”

Leng Xiang couldn’t see Jiang Sisi’s expression.

Jiang Sisi appeared to be searching the fridge for something edible, but her eyes dropped to her own fingers.

They had been too close just now. She had almost—almost—lost control.

She desperately wanted to reach out and stroke that red mark below Leng Xiang’s neck. Under the harsh white light, that patch of skin seemed magnetic, drawing her hand toward it. The faint red wasn’t too obvious; she wanted to rub it away, or better yet, make it deeper and more vivid.

Jiang Sisi’s fingers gripped the fridge door tightly, but her tone remained flat, no different from usual.

“That dead fatty said my edit was crap and insisted on doing it himself. I waited for his version, and after all that time, it was so garbage I couldn’t even look at it. He still wouldn’t admit it and wanted others to judge. And that’s how it got this late.”

The “dead fatty” was naturally the assistant director. They were still editing the final cut of Luxury Goods, and the effects team was working overtime too. When things got busy, eating simply slipped her mind.

Leng Xiang calmed her racing heart with a couple of deep breaths. “There’s no ready food in the fridge. What do you want to eat? I’ll make you something.”

This was the busiest time of year for her; forgetting to eat was normal. It was nearly midnight now—if she went hungry for the night, so be it. Starting a fire this late would be too much trouble.

Jiang Sisi turned around, refusal on the tip of her tongue. But when she met Leng Xiang’s eyes, the words wouldn’t come out.

“I’ll boil some noodles for you. It’ll be quick,” Leng Xiang added.

Jiang Sisi couldn’t refuse.

Leng Xiang deftly turned on the gas stove, blue flames leaping up.

She poured water into the pot, and once it boiled, she grabbed a handful of noodles and tossed them in.

As she stirred the noodles with chopsticks, her gaze lowered, fixed on the bubbling water in the pot.

Jiang Sisi stood beside her, staring at her profile.

“Pass me the salt jar,” said Leng Xiang.

Jiang Sisi turned to the row of small seasoning containers, staring them down.

They were all white powders, and the kitchen light wasn’t bright enough. She couldn’t tell which was salt.

Even in better light, she probably couldn’t.

She didn’t cook at all—the Love Cottage kitchen was sacred ground she’d never entered.

Unashamed, Jiang Sisi asked, “Which one’s the salt?”

Leng Xiang turned her head and saw her holding a small jar in each hand, looking at her innocently.

Leng Xiang burst out laughing.

She couldn’t stop. “Just taste them and you’ll know.”

“…”

Right, she could taste it.

Jiang Sisi dipped a finger into one, tasted it, and scrunched up her face. “So salty.”

Leng Xiang stifled a laugh. “…Pfft.”

She took the jar Jiang Sisi had tasted, sprinkled some salt into the broth with practiced ease.

The noodles were done soon after. Leng Xiang even poached an egg at the bottom of the bowl and served it to Jiang Sisi.

Xiangxiang followed the aroma over, rubbing against her legs and meowing.

Leng Xiang fished out some leftovers, rinsed them to remove the salt, put them in a small bowl, and set it down for Xiangxiang.

Jiang Sisi slurped the noodles at the table. Now it was Leng Xiang’s turn to stare.

Pretending ignorance, Jiang Sisi kept her head down and ate quietly.

The living room was silent, yet a tender warmth flowed through it.

No one noticed the figure lurking in the shadows at the stairwell corner, quietly watching them.

After finishing, Jiang Sisi conscientiously washed her bowl and Xiangxiang’s, then carried Xiangxiang upstairs with Leng Xiang to their room.

Once inside, she first pulled her phone from her jacket pocket and tossed it onto the nightstand, then hung up her jacket.

She grabbed a few changes of pajamas and headed to the bathroom for a shower.

Leng Xiang sat on the other bed, wanting to review her script but unable to focus.

Unable to read, with nothing else to do, she lay back bored, playing on her phone.

Suddenly, a vibration buzzed in the room, going on for a while without stopping.

Leng Xiang looked up from her phone and glanced around. The sound came from Jiang Sisi’s phone on the nightstand.

She hadn’t intended to look, but it kept vibrating, so she sat up.

The nightstands sat in the narrow aisle between the two beds. Leng Xiang leaned over and could see the screen.

It was a WeChat call notification from “Xiao Yue.”

Swipe left to decline, right to answer.

Leng Xiang’s fingers clenched the bedsheet until her knuckles whitened.

Of course she remembered that name.

Xiao Yue was the woman Jiang Sisi had loved for years—her unattainable white moonlight, possibly still on her mind even now.

The call was declined, and several notifications appeared on the screen.

One new WeChat message.

Two new WeChat messages.

Leng Xiang heard the water running in the bathroom. Jiang Sisi didn’t shower quickly; she wouldn’t be out yet.

With trembling fingers and downcast eyes, Leng Xiang picked up Jiang Sisi’s phone.

Two armies warred in her mind: one waving “look,” the other “don’t look.” The “look” side barely won.

She wanted to know if Jiang Sisi was still in touch with Xiao Yue.

More than that, she wanted to know how Jiang Sisi really saw her—what she meant to her.

She had to know.

Unlock with fingerprint or enter password.

Her own fingerprint wouldn’t work.

Leng Xiang felt strangely calm—the calmest she’d ever been.

What would Jiang Sisi use as her phone password?

First guess: her own birthday. Yesterday, Jiang Sisi had said it was in three days—tomorrow now, past midnight.

Leng Xiang quickly entered the numbers.

The screen flashed: incorrect password.

Not her birthday. Then Xiao Yue’s?

Xiao Yue was famous; her info was easy to find online. Leng Xiang entered another set of numbers.

Still wrong.

Leng Xiang slowed, phone in hand.

She hesitated, then entered another string of numbers.

The phone unlocked.

Leng Xiang stared for a moment before reacting, then looked down at the screen.

It opened straight to the WeChat chat with “Xiao Yue” at the top.

Holding her breath, Leng Xiang swiped up quickly through their conversation history.

Mostly work matters.

Xiao Yue was president of Xiao Shi Entertainment; professional contact wasn’t surprising.

Just then, there was a noise from the bathroom.

The water seemed to stop.

Her fingers flew downward through the chat to the end.

Jiang Sisi: Are you free tomorrow night? It’s my birthday. Coming?

Xiao Yue: Yes.

Xiao Yue: Time? Place?

Xiao Yue: Also, one thing I want to ask you.

Xiao Yue: [Call request canceled]

Xiao Yue: Not there?

Xiao Yue: Reply when you see this. Call me.

The water stopped, and the bathroom door seemed to open. Leng Xiang quickly locked the phone and set it back.

She dove under the covers, rolled to the far side, and turned her back to Jiang Sisi’s bed.

She was too tense; her breathing was still rapid.

She heard the room door open, footsteps—Jiang Sisi was back.

Seeming to sense Leng Xiang was asleep, Jiang Sisi lightened her steps. There was a faint rustling, then she went out again, softly closing the door.

Soon after, the hum of a hairdryer came from the bathroom.

Jiang Sisi was blow-drying her hair.

The distant drone filled Leng Xiang’s ears, but her mind replayed the messages from Jiang Sisi’s phone.

Jiang Sisi was still in touch with Xiao Yue.

She was inviting Xiao Yue to her birthday party.

And yesterday, she had invited Leng Xiang too.

Leng Xiang clutched her pillow, her mind in chaos. Unease and panic swept through her heart. She looked up at the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the bright moonlight outside.

The hairdryer stopped. Jiang Sisi returned, more faint sounds, then the lights went out.

The room plunged into darkness.

Leng Xiang heard the creak of the other bed as Jiang Sisi got in, then a bump from the nightstand—probably grabbing her phone.

Soon, Jiang Sisi took her phone and left the room again.

She must have gone to call Xiao Yue back.

Leng Xiang felt her heart sink as well, collapsing and falling into a pit.

She closed her eyes.