Chapter 45

Huang Xiaoyi finished her shift and slid into Lin Qimian’s car.

Lin Qimian was dressed in a lifeless white shirt and black trousers, her face completely bare—not even a swipe of lipstick.

Having witnessed how Lin Qimian had dolled herself up for her date with Xu Yueliang before, Huang Xiaoyi struggled with the downgrade. She tsked in clear dissatisfaction. “You can’t even be bothered to dress up for me.”

Lin Qimian replied flatly, “I just got off work too.”

Huang Xiaoyi shot back, “What if you were picking up Xu Yueliang right now?”

Lin Qimian turned to look at her, her thin lips pressed into a straight line. Her expression wasn’t exactly menacing, but it was far from gentle.

“Sorry, sorry, my bad,” Huang Xiaoyi said hastily. “I shouldn’t have brought that up. So… where are we headed to talk?”

Lin Qimian said, “Somewhere quiet.”

Huang Xiaoyi grinned. “Yo, it’s a holiday today—no good spot is quiet. Whatever, just drive straight ahead and take a right at the intersection. There’s a milk tea shop tucked in there. The drinks are terrible, but it’s nice and peaceful.”

Lin Qimian didn’t argue and pulled out onto the road.

They parked and stepped into the milk tea shop.

The place was nearly deserted, with just one server tucked behind the counter, cracking open melon seeds while glued to her drama.

Huang Xiaoyi rapped on the counter. “Boss, two lemon waters.”

The shop boss didn’t look up. “No lemons today.”

Huang Xiaoyi waved it off. “Just bring whatever you’ve got.”

She led Lin Qimian toward the back and claimed a secluded corner booth.

The table and chairs gleamed with unnatural cleanliness, as if no one had ever set foot there.

“Out with it,” Huang Xiaoyi said bluntly. “What’s your plan?”

Lin Qimian fell silent for a few seconds. When she finally lifted her head, a few strands of hair tumbled over her forehead, lending her an air of weary longing. “What do you think I should do?”

Huang Xiaoyi leaned in. “Like I said on the phone—you need to make her feel like you need her.”

Lin Qimian murmured, “The ways I need her… they’d scare her off.”

Huang Xiaoyi blinked. “…”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “I didn’t… get that wrong, did I? You mean… what I think you mean? Jumping straight to that… it wouldn’t pass muster anywhere.”

Lin Qimian was straightforward. “Probably.”

Huang Xiaoyi coughed violently. “Cough cough cough…”

Lin Qimian leaned back, her face impassive. “I need her by my side. Always.”

Huang Xiaoyi exhaled in relief. “Ah, that’s the angle. Yeah, anything that boxes her in won’t fly. Heh heh…”

Lin Qimian stared at her. “…”

Huang Xiaoyi shivered under the gaze and reined in her wandering thoughts. “No easy openings? Then make one. Remember when you asked me about Xu Yueliang and used that excuse about learning the live-streaming biz? Still want in on that?”

Lin Qimian said nothing. “…”

Huang Xiaoyi pressed on. “Your hospital could team up with streamers for some ads. Plenty of them need dental work—you could pitch your services…”

Lin Qimian remained silent. “…”

“Fine,” Huang Xiaoyi said, slapping the table with a frown. “If you’re not biting on that, just fake an illness.”

Lin Qimian’s eyelids twitched faintly. Huang Xiaoyi barreled ahead. “Everyone gets sick sometime, right? And when you’re under the weather, you’re vulnerable, you need someone to look after you. It scratches that other itch too—quality time with Xu Yueliang…”

Lin Qimian nodded. “Mm.”

Huang Xiaoyi paused. “What?”

Lin Qimian said, “Feasible.”

Huang Xiaoyi muttered under her breath, “I was just spitballing. The logistics don’t really add up…”

Lin Qimian countered, “They do.”

Huang Xiaoyi gaped. “????”

Once Lin Qimian laid out the full plan, Huang Xiaoyi’s eyes widened. “!!!!!”

“That’s some bold bait you’re dangling,” Huang Xiaoyi said. “What if she doesn’t bite?”

Lin Qimian replied calmly, “I can’t force her.”

Huang Xiaoyi flashed her a thumbs-up, genuinely impressed by her poise.

The shop boss delivered the milk teas—one cup each, swirled in vivid yellows and greens that looked almost appetizing.

Huang Xiaoyi took a sip through the straw, forcing it down with visible effort but without a peep.

Lin Qimian pulled out her phone and checked the time. “She’s at the Starlight Awards put on by Orange on the first and second. Massive crowds then. We’ll time it for when she’s free.”

Huang Xiaoyi nodded. “Obviously.”

Lin Qimian sipped her drink. “It’ll tie you up for two days in the middle—no long trips. That okay?”

Huang Xiaoyi studied her face. “No issue.”

Lin Qimian took another sip. “Mm. One last thing. Faking it doesn’t sit right.”

Huang Xiaoyi blinked. “Huh?”

Lin Qimian said evenly, “I don’t want to lie to her. Better to get really sick.”

Huang Xiaoyi’s features twisted in disbelief.

No one in the real world would go that far, pursuing someone so obsessively that they made themselves genuinely ill.

“If you were a guy, I’d stay eight thousand miles away from you,” she said with lingering trepidation.

“When I first set my sights on Xu Yueliang, it was no different,” Lin Qimian replied. “That’s why we can’t rush it or push too hard—she’ll run scared.”

Huang Xiaoyi: “…”

Huang Xiaoyi fell silent for a long moment as Lin Qimian scrolled through news about the Starlight Awards on her phone. By then, her milk tea was more than half gone.

Huang Xiaoyi lifted her chin. “Do you even know what you’re drinking?”

Lin Qimian snapped back to attention. “Hm?”

Huang Xiaoyi pointed at the yellowish-green liquid. “Bitter Melon Mango Pomelo Sago.”

Lin Qimian: “…”

Huang Xiaoyi: “The kind that’s mixed really badly. Didn’t you taste how bitter it is?”

Lin Qimian: “…It’s fine.”

Huang Xiaoyi nodded and took a small sip of the drink before calling over a glass of water. “Not as bitter as your love, huh?”

When the two finally left the Milk Tea Shop, the Shop Boss straightened up at last, lifted her head, and gave them a proper look at her face.

Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, her hoodie hung loose and baggy, and she looked utterly disheveled—but surprisingly, she was quite attractive.

She slid a discount coupon across to Lin Qimian. “Here.”

Huang Xiaoyi bristled. “Shop Boss, are you playing favorites based on looks? I’ve come here tons of times and never gotten a coupon!”

The Shop Boss glanced at her. “You only ever order lemon water.”

Huang Xiaoyi: “…”

The Shop Boss pointed casually at Lin Qimian. “She finished my drink.”

Huang Xiaoyi: “…………”

Lin Qimian smiled, passed the coupon to Huang Xiaoyi, and said, “The flavor… it’s pretty unique.”

“Thanks,” the Shop Boss replied without a hint of shame.

After dropping Huang Xiaoyi off at home, Lin Qimian returned to her own apartment.

The National Day holiday had officially begun. Her work account’s Moments were buzzing with posts from colleagues on their various trips, full of excitement.

Lin Qimian tapped into Xu Yueliang’s Live Streaming Room. As always, Xu Yueliang was there on her phone, chatting with viewers as they came and went.

The conversation naturally drifted to National Day plans. Spotting her arrival, Xu Yueliang asked offhandedly, “11, you on break? Where are you headed for the holiday?”

Lin Qimian sent a bullet comment: 【On break.】

But she didn’t say where.

There was nowhere to go. Without Xu Yueliang, everywhere felt the same.

The stream rolled on, projected onto Lin Qimian’s screen, her voice filling the entire room.

Lin Qimian went about her routine: washing up, cooking dinner, tidying the place, reading a book.

A little after nine, her phone rang. Lin Qimian glanced at the screen—it was Lin Zixuan.

She let it ring until it went to voicemail.

She turned two pages in her book, and it started ringing again.

Again and again, relentless, utterly disruptive.

Lin Qimian frowned. She glanced at Xu Yueliang on the big screen, her eyes crinkled in that adorable smile.

She took a deep breath to steady herself.

Lin Qimian picked up. “Hello.”

Lin Zixuan’s voice was all syrupy sweetness at first, asking where she was, whether she’d eaten, what her holiday plans were. Before long, she launched into an apology for the family reunion dinner fiasco.

Lin Qimian listened with a blank expression.

Lin Zixuan was used to her sister’s curt responses and kept her tone bright and bubbly, never letting it flag.

Lin Qimian checked the time—nearly five minutes in.

“Anything else?” she asked.

“What would I have to talk about… Classes have been light lately; I’ve just been messing around.” Lin Zixuan sounded hesitant. “Sis, can I come to S City for National Day and hang out with you?”

Lin Qimian: “No.”

Lin Zixuan: “…”

Lin Qimian: “I’m busy.”

Lin Zixuan: “But you just said you had no plans…”

Lin Qimian: “No plans for fun because I’m busy.”

Lin Zixuan: “Work stuff?”

Lin Qimian: “Personal.”

Lin Zixuan’s curiosity piqued. “What kind? With friends…?”

Lin Qimian: “If that’s all, I’m hanging up.”

“Hey, hey, hey…” Lin Zixuan rushed out. “Sis, don’t hang up! I still have stuff to say.”

Lin Qimian didn’t hang up, but she didn’t say a word.

Lin Zixuan paused, then continued. “Mom and Dad are Mom and Dad, but I’m me. No matter how much you dislike them, I like you as my big sister.”

Lin Qimian: “…”

Lin Zixuan: “Sis, don’t be mad at me. I just want to be your regular little sister.”

“Okay. Goodbye.” Lin Qimian hung up.

The phone had gone silent, but the ambient sounds of the room continued.

Xu Yueliang let out a soft chuckle. “Of course, happiness is the most important thing~”

Lin Qimian curved her lips in a smile.

The next day, the nation celebrated in unison.

After watching the morning’s various holiday festivities, Lin Qimian turned on the projector in the afternoon to tune into Orange’s Starlight Awards.

It was essentially a gathering of top streamers from every district for a series of online galas.

Xu Yueliang was the number one female streamer in the Dance District—and she’d gone viral multiple times that year.

So once the host finished reading through the script, the first live stream to connect was Xu Yueliang’s.

She was fully prepared, dressed in a vibrant Feitian Dance costume with her hair swept up in a high bun. Her delicate brows framed almond-shaped eyes as she greeted everyone with a sweet smile.

A wave of astonished comments flooded the barrage, most of them praising her beauty and adorable voice.

After the initial pleasantries, Xu Yueliang adjusted the music and stepped into position on the stage where the camera could capture her full body.

She struck her opening pose, and her longtime fans immediately panicked in the chat.

【Moon, Moon—you forgot to turn on the filter!!!】

【And the triple vertical screen mode! Triple the beauty, triple the joy!!!】

【Damn, is our Moon baby too nervous?】

【Where’s the little stars filter? The filter! Sorry everyone, it’s her first time at such a big event. Sorry, sorry!】

【Ahh, it’s starting—she won’t see the chat now, she won’t notice!】

~~~

The Voyage Group chat exploded with messages too. The admin was already coordinating a unified barrage, rallying everyone to try and salvage the mishap.

But Lin Qimian wasn’t worried at all.

She watched Xu Yueliang on the big screen. Her expression was calm and poised, her posture graceful. The camera’s view of the stage was spotless, cleared of everything except a few lamps casting brilliant light.

No other decorations whatsoever.

The music began— a track she’d never played in her streams before, paired with a dance no one had ever seen her perform.

Chanting voices rose in waves, light drumbeats underscoring them. Barefoot, Xu Yueliang swept her sleeves and leaped with ethereal lightness, pure and unadorned like a figure from an ink wash painting—a celestial immortal descended from the heavens of Penglai.

Lin Qimian clasped her hands together, pressing them to her lips. She could feel her blood slowly igniting, building to a boil.

It was as if a thousand ants were gnawing at her flesh, as if some innate longing was bursting forth from the core of her being.

She itched unbearably. She brimmed with anticipation. She wanted nothing more than to carve out the grandest stage under heaven for Xu Yueliang to claim—boldly, proudly, head held high.

She watched her dance, watched her soul drift beyond the music. She would gladly gaze up at her like this forever, from below, as long as Xu Yueliang claimed everything she desired, everything she deserved.

Xu Yueliang was destined for more than this—Lin Qimian knew it with utter certainty. She had the professional pride to demand it.

When the performance ended, a blizzard of white comments blanketed the screen.

Everyone was howling about how stunning it was, how unexpected, how this wasn’t some internet streamer but a star from a top-tier national dance troupe.

【Orange is about to shake things up! Y’all aren’t content dominating streaming anymore, huh?!】

【Starting with the first streamer setting the bar this high—how are the rest supposed to follow? Game District better bring out their national team!】

【Worthy of a National Day tribute. Chinese culture has me tearing up again.】

【What a hidden gem of a creator. I’m in love!】

【People were just saying she forgot the filter—and now imagine if she’d used one. What a waste that would’ve been!】

【Tapping that follow button a million times today.】

【Spam the gifts! Max ’em out!】

…

Lin Qimian smiled, swelling with pride.

The broadcast cut back to the host, and Lin Qimian grabbed her other phone to slip into Xu Yueliang’s live stream room.

Xu Yueliang was still catching her breath from the dance, one hand over her chest as she scrolled through the comments.

A happy smile lit her face as she kept thanking everyone.

Lin Qimian unleashed a string of massive gifts, filling the screen with bursts of festive fireworks.

She posted just one comment: 【Congratulations on a flawless performance】.

Xu Yueliang’s eyes paused on the barrage for a moment. When she looked up again, they glistened with a sheen of moisture, making her seem all the brighter and more radiant.

Within minutes, clips of the performance were spreading to every corner of the internet.

Viewers marveled at how a popular streamer could dance with such beauty, such professionalism, such utter surprise.

The greater the contrast, the faster it spread—proving just how low the general opinion of internet streamers truly was.

Xu Yueliang’s room flooded with tourists and new accounts.

Lin Qimian wanted to clear the chat, but the screen flickered—and she found herself booted from the stream.

Lin Qimian was both annoyed and amused. Unable to watch Xu Yueliang directly anymore, she projected the screen recording onto the entire living room wall and sent a copy to Huang Xiaoyi.

Huang Xiaoyi, always charging ahead at the front lines of the latest gossip, browsed around online for a bit before messaging Lin Qimian:

-【Moon is way too badass.】

-【I think this wave’s gonna blow up to new heights. People are already sharing it on my Moments.】

-【Why even worry about your job now? If I told people I know Xu Yueliang, I’d be bragging all the way to the heavens.】

-【Looks like it was for the best that Moon didn’t come traveling with us.】

It really was for the best.

If she got any more popular, she might not be able to hook anyone at all.

Though her thoughts about Xu Yueliang had grown more numerous, richer, more distant—tangled somewhere between selfishness and selflessness—Lin Qimian still turned and stepped into the walk-in closet. She changed into a fresh outfit and headed downstairs to go for a run.

The weather had cooled considerably, but she wore only a short-sleeved shirt and shorts. With her long hair pulled back into a ponytail, she ran lap after lap along the chilliest lake and the most desolate mountain path.

She didn’t stop until night had fully fallen and her sweatband was utterly soaked through.

She came to a halt by the lake’s edge and stood there quietly, the night breeze tousling her hair as she gazed up at the moon mirrored in the heart of the water.

A long while passed before Lin Qimian finally sneezed. “Achoo~”