Chapter 39

“Has she replied?” As they pulled up near the house, Huang Xiaoyi craned her neck to peer at Lin Qimian.

Lin Qimian glanced at her phone. The notification light was blinking—and had been for a while now.

That meant Xu Yueliang hadn’t just replied once, but multiple times.

“Mm-hmm.” The corner of Lin Qimian’s mouth curved up.

“Oooh—” Huang Xiaoyi let out a whoop.

She was already buzzing with excitement from the evening, but now she was downright thrilled, twisting around in the passenger seat.

“I told you! I told you she’d reply. Xu Yueliang definitely would!”

Lin Qimian’s heart felt light and floaty, suspended in midair.

The sensation was so airy it nearly pulled her from her senses, so she reined herself in a bit before speaking.

“Anyone would reply to something like that,” she said.

Huang Xiaoyi shrugged. “You’re not wrong. That trick of yours might be old-school, but damn if it doesn’t work. Who wouldn’t return someone else’s stuff?”

She clicked her tongue. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. I really didn’t expect you to go that far. When did you even slip it into her bag? Talk about deliberate!”

Lin Qimian replied, “Didn’t we have to store our personal items before entering the escape room?”

Huang Xiaoyi: “???”

Lin Qimian went on, “I stuffed my bag into my locker and said, ‘Oh no, I forgot to put my phone in.'”

Huang Xiaoyi: “…”

Lin Qimian smiled. “Moon was right there, so naturally, I left it with her.”

Huang Xiaoyi pointed out, “But you left your phone.”

Lin Qimian said, “The phone and my name tag were both in my pocket. The tag’s so small—it’s forgivable to bring it in by accident.”

Huang Xiaoyi: “…”

She stared at Lin Qimian. “I really need to get to know you all over again.”

Huang Xiaoyi added, “Are you feeling pretty proud of yourself?”

“Nope.” Lin Qimian smiled. “There’s this thing called express delivery in the world. If Moon didn’t want to see me, she could’ve shipped it back same-day, and I’d have my name tag tonight.”

Huang Xiaoyi snorted. “Heh.”

The car pulled up outside the complex, and Huang Xiaoyi jerked her chin. “Well, show me quick. Did Xu Yueliang call for a courier?”

Lin Qimian picked up her phone and lit up the screen. “No. She’s asking when I’m free so she can bring it over herself.”

Huang Xiaoyi slumped back into her seat with a sigh. “I really think you could be a master schemer. Xu Yueliang’s so clingy around you, so admiring. She spent the whole evening blushing like crazy…”

“She blushes easily,” Lin Qimian said, gazing at the chat. “And she cries easily too.”

“She’s pure-hearted and passionate, full of emotions, thin-skinned, and terrible at hiding it.”

Lin Qimian smiled. “She acts that way with everyone. Back at the hospital when she didn’t recognize me, it was the same. With Weiwei, with you, with anyone.”

“But when you try to cross that line from friends to something more…” Lin Qimian knew it well. “She pulls back, and you can’t catch her again.”

Huang Xiaoyi’s face scrunched up.

Lin Qimian reached over and opened the car door for her. “So take it slow.”

Huang Xiaoyi pushed the door open and climbed out, deflated. “Oh. Bye-bye.”

“See you.” Lin Qimian smiled. “Thanks for tonight.”

Once Huang Xiaoyi had gone, Lin Qimian didn’t drive off right away.

Xu Yueliang was waiting for her reply, asking when she had time.

Lin Qimian was off both Saturday and Sunday, free from morning till night.

Xu Yueliang, on the other hand, had barely any free time—and today had already eaten up a full day of her work.

Lin Qimian typed back:

-【Up to your schedule.】

-【It’s my fault for leaving it behind. I’ll come get it from you.】

Xu Yueliang’s side showed “typing” almost immediately. It went on for a good while before her reply came through.

-【I’m free whenever. Whatever works for you.】

Pushing it back and forth like this was trickier than expected.

Lin Qimian’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, typing a few words only to delete them.

Weekends weren’t for morning meetups—that would scream she knew Xu Yueliang’s schedule.

But Xu Yueliang’s streams ran from afternoon straight through the evening. Squeezing in another meal was impossible.

As she hesitated, another message popped up from Xu Yueliang.

-【How about tomorrow afternoon? Around six or seven?】

Six or seven was when Xu Yueliang took her stream breaks.

Sometimes four or five minutes, sometimes ten or so—Lin Qimian knew it well.

【Sure.】

She replied to Xu Yueliang. Four minutes or ten, it didn’t matter—as long as she could see her, it would be enough.

Xu Yueliang’s tone brightened right up:

-【See you tomorrow then~~】

-【Sending you the address.】

-【Just let me know when you’re on your way, and I’ll come down to meet you~~】

It was the address of a dessert shop. Lin Qimian replied: 【Got it.】

Once the matter was settled, their interaction for the day came to a complete end.

Lin Qimian turned the steering wheel and headed home. No music played in the car, yet her mood danced along with phantom notes—now soaring high, now dipping low, at times passionate and swelling, at others softly descending.

After getting home and freshening up, it was already quite late. But when she picked up her phone, a flutter of eager anticipation stirred inside her.

Jiaojiao’s page was blank. Little Moon’s showed no new lights.

But Lin Qimian had her special reserves.

The video from behind B Gate sat right there on her phone. Perched on the edge of the bed, she tapped it open, and suddenly the whole world dropped away.

The way Xu Yueliang had flung herself into her arms was like a startled rabbit.

The feel of Xu Yueliang in her arms was like a soft cloud.

But Lin Qimian knew she would soon forget that sensation.

It had been too fleeting, too abrupt, vanishing all too swiftly. Even as she strained to remember, only fragments lingered.

Her fingers curled inward as she replayed the video countless times.

Until the image burned itself into her mind, vivid even behind closed eyes. She tossed the phone aside and drifted to the window.

The moon hid behind clouds, its glow muted.

Tomorrow, I’ll buy an astronomical telescope, Lin Qimian thought. That way, I can see it more clearly.

That night, Xu Yueliang didn’t go live, but Lin Qimian showed no sign of turning in early.

In her dreams, she clutched a cloud, squeezing it tighter and tighter until heat bloomed across her skin, leaving her slick with a thin layer of sweat.

The next day, she raced across half the city, loading her car with food.

All of it was the kind Xu Yueliang had raved about in Moments—things she loved that could be packed and taken away.

In the afternoon, she arrived early outside the agreed-upon coffee shop and parked in a quiet spot away from prying eyes. She rolled up the windows.

Lin Qimian stayed in the car. She reclined her seat to a comfortable angle, fired up her backup phone, and slipped on her earphones.

z92565611, wrapped in a blaze of rainbow effects, slipped into Little Moon’s live streaming room.

Little Moon was dancing—a request from a fan who’d dropped a hefty gift.

Today she wore a crisp white blouse with a black leather skirt, her ponytail tied low. Gold-rimmed, slim-frame glasses perched on her nose, the chain swaying faintly with every move. Ascetic and sensual all at once.

Lin Qimian eyed her outfit, a mix of strangeness and familiarity washing over her.

It was unfamiliar because it didn’t suit Xu Yueliang at all—not her personality, not her everyday style.

Yet familiar too, like Lin Qimian’s own vibe. Strip away the flashy accessories, and it was her standard look.

She favored shirts for their convenience and versatility, perfect for any setting.

Her closet brimmed with them, paired with suits, skirts, and pants galore.

The ponytail was pure practicality—no curls, no dye, no need.

Lin Qimian gazed at Xu Yueliang on her screen, then glanced down at herself.

A laugh bubbled up unbidden.

She reached up and shook out her own tied hair, shattering that rigid mirror image just a little.

Xu Yueliang finished her dance and settled back at her computer.

She rattled off a list of gift thanks, then chimed, “Welcome, 11~~~”

Lin Qimian lobbed a small gift by way of hello.

Xu Yueliang thanked her and flowed right back into her stream, no extra chit-chat.

This month’s top monthly rank had long since changed hands. z92565611 was dethroned.

It was a necessary move on Lin Qimian’s part.

With Xu Yueliang already on guard against 11, she had to keep 11 at arm’s length.

11 was no longer the whale dropping thousands, no longer chasing some special bond with the streamer. Just your average viewer now.

Gifting sometimes, lurking other times. Tuning in for Xu Yueliang, checking out other streamers too.

At least next time 11 popped up, Xu Yueliang could relax.

Lin Qimian had to concede: Xu Yueliang ran her gig like a pro. She wouldn’t lack for anything, even without Lin Qimian’s involvement.

The stream rolled on to six in the afternoon. After her final dance, Xu Yueliang returned to her desk and dipped her head.

Time was up. Xu Yueliang was about to sign off.

Lin Qimian straightened up and fired off a message from her other phone: 【I’m on my way.】

The instant it sent, she watched Xu Yueliang’s eyes spark in the stream.

Xu Yueliang snatched up her phone, the keychain swinging into the frame’s edge.

In full view of her audience, she tapped back to Lin Qimian: 【Gotcha~ Safe travels on Route 26, Doctor Lin~~】

Lin Qimian smiled, eased back down, and settled in to watch Xu Yueliang’s stream a while longer—to kill “time on the road.”

But in the live streaming room, after replying to the message, Xu Yueliang stood up, bowed to the screen, and said, “Sorry, everyone, I have something to take care of, so I’m signing off~~”

Lin Qimian froze for a moment.

The screen was instantly flooded with comments, all asking what was going on.

【Does the streamer have something urgent come up?】

【Someone recommended you to me as the ultimate workaholic streamer who keeps the party going from dawn till dusk—and now dusk has arrived?】

【Moon clearly has something urgent; she usually only takes a few minutes to rest and never logs off.】

【No stream yesterday, and today just a few hours with barely any dances.】

【When are you coming back? Are you streaming more today?】

Xu Yueliang replied, “It’s something urgent, but not bad news, so don’t worry, everyone~~”

“If it wraps up early, I’ll come back and keep streaming, but I’m not sure~”

“Really sorry, guys—don’t wait up. I’ll definitely be here tomorrow~”

The comments rolled in:

【I seriously suspect the streamer’s fallen in love. She was just staring at her phone—bet it was a reply to her boyfriend.】

【Get outta here—female streamers don’t have boyfriends. I’m the boyfriend.】

【Nah, it’s me, 10086.】

【All us longtime fans know Moon never touches her phone during streams. She’s been taking a lot of breaks lately, so she’s got stuff to handle. Everyone has their own life—why jump to rumors?】

【Streamer, streamer, reply to me: are you in love? Say it’s me and I’ll forgive you for vanishing like this.】

Xu Yueliang didn’t respond. She just bowed to everyone again, waved, and said, “See you~”

Then the stream went dark.

Lin Qimian stared at the blank screen for a few seconds before tossing the backup phone into her pocket. She adjusted her seat and sat up straight.

She glanced at the items on the back seat and picked out something light—a little snack suitable for this hour of the evening—bringing it up front.

Then came the quiet wait. An anxious wait.

Why had she messaged the moment she set out, only to log off now?

Taking a nameplate should only take a few minutes. Why wasn’t she sure if she’d resume streaming?

Xu Yueliang never touched her phone during streams. She was the famous workaholic who hadn’t taken a single day off in nearly half a year.

She took her job seriously, rising to the top of her field.

She always kept work and personal life strictly separate.

Even the whales who showered her with gifts got politely turned down the moment they hinted at anything off-stream.

So why was she taking leave after leave now, all to thank a dentist who’d charged her for an extraction?

Why had her initial nervousness and fear turned into eager anticipation, rushing over without a second thought?

Lin Qimian clutched her phone, waiting in a daze.

Xu Yueliang didn’t show up right away. It was a full twenty minutes before her phone lit up with a message: 【Doctor Lin, where are you?】

Lin Qimian looked up. A strange premonition drew her gaze straight to the door of the coffee shop they’d agreed on.

One second. Two. Three. A pretty skirt hem fluttered, and a figure stepped into her line of sight.

It was Xu Yueliang.

She’d changed into a fresh outfit, restyled her hair, redone her makeup—everything.

She wore a soft cotton dress, the picture of the sweet girl next door that anyone would adore.

She glanced around, searching, her face alight with expectation and joy—mirroring exactly how Lin Qimian felt in the car.

A spark of inspiration flashed through Lin Qimian’s mind. Suddenly, she knew just what pattern of wallpaper would suit the home she shared with Xu Yueliang.