That night, the darkness was serene. Xu Yueliang tossed and turned on her vast pink bed. Before drifting off, she clutched her phone and carefully sent a flurry of messages to Lin Qimian.
【Doctor Lin, if you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable, you have to call me!】
【Message me or just shout—whatever works!】
【If I’m out cold, come right over and yank the blanket off me!】
A good while later, Lin Qimian replied: 【Okay.】
Satisfied, Xu Yueliang sank into a deep sleep. The day had worn her out—cooking, caregiving, putting on a show, all while staying hyper-vigilant not to let her guard down around Doctor Lin.
The mental strain had been enormous, but after shedding tears a few times and laughing long and hard, all those bottled-up emotions had flooded out of her chest. The relief was unprecedented, a profound sense of calm washing over her.
Except for Doctor Lin, who always left her blushing and flustered.
Why did Doctor Lin keep making her feel so shy and awkward?
Xu Yueliang’s breathing steadied, even turning into soft little snores.
In the master bedroom, Lin Qimian lay still in the darkened room long after turning off the light, sleep eluding her.
Her mind buzzed with too much to unpack, all of it different facets of Xu Yueliang.
Some moments had unfolded too swiftly, certain gestures arriving out of nowhere, words slipping out unfiltered. Lin Qimian needed to dissect it all meticulously: what she’d done right, what wrong, the ripple effects, and the best path forward.
It felt like studying a subject without a answer key, every second of their time together an exam question.
Yet Lin Qimian savored it. She approached each one with grave care, etching the tactile sensations, the visuals, even the faint scents into her memory.
Xu Yueliang had said: if I’m sleeping too soundly, come over and yank off my blanket.
Yank off her blanket—that would reveal a little pink pig frolicking in a sea of pink.
Lin Qimian pressed a hand over her eyes and let out a quiet laugh.
Once her thoughts began to stray, they galloped off like a horse with a broken rein, leaving her restless and on edge the whole night.
The next morning, Xu Yueliang jolted awake to her phone blaring.
Worried Lin Qimian might need her in the night, she hadn’t silenced the ringer—in fact, she’d cranked up the volume.
The insistent peals rang out like a barrage of gongs and drums right by her ear.
Heart pounding, she snatched the phone and saw it was the agent from Orange. Only then did she exhale.
She swiped away from the call screen and checked WeChat. Doctor Lin’s chat was silent, save for last night’s 【Okay】.
Her pulse easing, Xu Yueliang glanced around, slipped out of bed, and headed to the balcony.
It was the farthest spot from the master bedroom—no chance of disturbing Doctor Lin’s sleep.
She finally picked up as she said, “Yun Jie.” Zhou Yun jumped straight in: “You took the whole day off yesterday. Streaming today or what?”
“Ah, I should head back today,” Xu Yueliang said, fiddling with the hem of her clothes. “Assuming no surprises…”
“What surprises could there possibly be, my little ancestor?” Zhou Yun replied. “I’m not saying don’t take breaks. Normally, I’d be begging you to rest more when things are quiet. But this is different—we’ve got massive traffic rolling in. Gotta capitalize on it. Tons of fans swarmed Orange’s official account yesterday, demanding to know where you vanished to. Bad timing on that leave. Even a standard stream with no extras could rake in a day’s haul worth half a month’s usual take. Why pass up easy money…”
“Mhm, mhm.” Xu Yueliang murmured agreeably.
Zhou Yun rambled on a bit longer before slamming on the brakes: “Moon, has all this sudden fame got you stressed, unsure how to cope? If that’s it, spill to Yun Jie. I’ll hop on video right now and walk you through it—tons of streamers hit this wall. No shame in it…”
“No, no—it’s not me,” Xu Yueliang rushed to say. “Not my problem.”
Zhou Yun: “Then what is it…”
Xu Yueliang: “My… friend got sick.”
“Oh, I see.” Zhou Yun paused. “Fair enough. How are they holding up? Pretty bad?”
Xu Yueliang: “Not bad at all—way better now~”
Zhou Yun: “Glad to hear it. So… you sticking around longer? Just get back to streaming ASAP. Your poster’s splashed across the homepage—the manager even asked about you.”
Xu Yueliang: “Okay.”
Zhou Yun wavered, then ventured just before hanging up: “Moon… is it a boyfriend?”
Xu Yueliang shook her head vigorously, even if Zhou Yun couldn’t see: “No, no, Yun Jie—you’ve got it wrong. It’s a girl. A female friend.”
“Oh, okay,” Zhou Yun said. “Go ahead and get busy then. I’m hanging up.”
The call ended, and Xu Yueliang clutched her phone, exhaling a long, looooong sigh of relief.
From her side-lying position by the window, she could see a lush expanse of trees outside—a cluster of ginkgoes with just a hint of yellow creeping in—along with a man-made lake graced by a gazebo. It didn’t feel like something inside a residential complex; more likely, it was part of a park.
Xu Yueliang pushed the window open, and a breeze swept in, cool and refreshing, carrying the scent of grass and leaves.
She drew in another long, looooong breath, thinking to herself that October truly was the golden month—not too hot, not too cold, with beautiful scenery everywhere. It was perfect for a vacation.
Unfortunately, when she glanced down at her work account, her notifications were exploding. Group chats and private messages alike were piling up, rocketing toward 99+ in minutes.
Xu Yueliang pocketed her phone and tiptoed out of the bedroom to freshen up.
The door to the master bedroom stood slightly ajar; she wasn’t sure if Doctor Lin was awake yet.
The bathroom counter held a gray-and-white toothbrush holder, a water flosser, dental floss—the whole lineup of oral care essentials.
And there, most impressively, was a brand-new pink set of dental tools. Xu Yueliang didn’t need to ask to know they were meant for her.
Doctor Lin might come across as aloof, but she was actually the most thoughtful, attentive, and gentle person imaginable.
Xu Yueliang started brushing her teeth the way Doctor Lin had taught her—meticulously, thoroughly.
A shadow flickered in the mirror, and Lin Qimian’s face appeared.
She was quite a bit taller than Xu Yueliang. Her long hair was a little mussed, her pajamas rumpled, and a swath of bare skin showed at her chest. Whether from awkward sleeping or something else, there was a faint red mark on her collarbone.
Foam filled Xu Yueliang’s mouth, so she couldn’t speak. Instead, she widened her eyes and shot Lin Qimian a look that said: Good morning, Doctor Lin!
Lin Qimian curved her lips slightly, meeting her gaze but saying nothing. She simply grabbed her own things in silence and stepped up beside her.
The sink in Doctor Lin’s place was spacious enough for two people to get ready at once.
But there was something intensely intimate about sharing such a personal routine, especially first thing in the morning.
Xu Yueliang shifted over to give her more room, trying not to get in the way.
She barely dared glance at the mirror anymore. Their two faces side by side left every micro-expression exposed. Should she look at Doctor Lin in the reflection or the real one beside her? At her eyes, or straight ahead at that elegant shoulder and neckline?
Xu Yueliang buried herself in the task. Her brushing sped up, her rinsing was ultra-careful, and she scrubbed her face like a whirlwind.
When she finally looked up, face dripping, searching for something to dry off with, Lin Qimian’s fingertips twitched. She pulled a face towel from the stack and held it out.
Through the sheen of water droplets, Lin Qimian’s fingers looked impossibly beautiful.
Xu Yueliang stared for a beat before taking it and pressing it hard against her face.
Once she’d dried off, Lin Qimian handed over the next item. Whatever she offered, Xu Yueliang used, and just like that, they breezed through a full skincare routine.
“I’m done!” Xu Yueliang declared triumphantly. “You keep going, Doctor Lin!”
With that, she bolted out, and soon the sounds of activity drifted from the kitchen.
Lin Qimian set down her things and headed into the bathroom for a quick shower.
By the time she emerged, breakfast was laid out on the dining table—alongside the box of cold medicine from her nightstand, the one labeled “you won’t die from a few extra pills.”
Xu Yueliang had taken off her apron, her hair tied up in a loose ponytail, and was urging her to eat, then take her medicine once she was done.
But before she could even sit, Xu Yueliang’s phone rang. She checked it and hurried toward the living room.
Lin Qimian watched her go.
Xu Yueliang picked the farthest spot from her and lowered her voice to a whisper Lin Qimian couldn’t possibly overhear.
Of course, Lin Qimian knew she was busy. Ever since going viral, everyone was chasing the buzz, trying to latch onto her momentum. For Xu Yueliang to drop everything and look after her for a full day—as a friend, it was above and beyond.
The Voyage Group, Orange Official Site, every social platform—they were all hunting for Xu Yueliang, waiting for her. And here Lin Qimian was, monopolizing her time. It made her feel both lucky and guilty.
Xu Yueliang finished the call and returned to the table.
Lin Qimian brought it up first. “Work call?”
Xu Yueliang had already opened up to her about work stuff, so she didn’t hold back. “Yeah, the site’s running another event. Interviews and whatnot.”
Lin Qimian: “When?”
Xu Yueliang waved it off. “No date set yet. They’re just asking if I’m available.”
Lin Qimian nudged the medicine aside. “I didn’t have a fever last night, and I feel much better today. No need for the meds.”
Xu Yueliang: “!!!”
Xu Yueliang: “Doctor Lin, how can you skip them just because you’re feeling a little better? You have to finish the full course! To really knock it out!”
Lin Qimian: “What did you call me?”
Xu Yueliang hesitated. “Lin… Doctor.”
Lin Qimian met her gaze firmly. “I’m the doctor here, so I call the shots.”
“…”
Xu Yueliang buried her head and shoveled down a few spoonfuls of porridge before mumbling under her breath, “Lin Mianmian, I think you’re being a bit rebellious…”
Lin Qimian just smiled and let it slide.
Xu Yueliang decided to go straight for the heart of the matter. “Are you worried that me staying here will mess up my work?”
Lin Qimian was frank. “Yes.”
Xu Yueliang stirred the porridge in her bowl. “But I… don’t have to work every single day…”
“You would get twice the results with half the effort if you focused on work right now,” Lin Qimian replied.
“…”
Xu Yueliang puffed out her cheeks, then let them deflate with a sigh.
She might have argued with anyone else, but the woman across from her was Lin Qimian. Xu Yueliang knew that once her job was out in the open, there was no fooling her.
She ducked her head and fell silent.
Lin Qimian softened her tone. “Once this busy stretch is over, we can go out and have some fun together.”
“…Mm.”
“If you’re still not reassured, I can call Xiao Yi back over. She should be finished with whatever she was doing.”
“Oh…”
Lin Qimian was about to say more when Xu Yueliang’s phone rang again.
Xu Yueliang shot the device a near-resentful glare.
Lin Qimian chuckled. “Go on, answer it. Making money comes first.”
Xu Yueliang snatched up the phone, her eyes lighting up. “It’s not work—it’s from home~”
Her voice bubbled with the glee of a child who’d just ditched school successfully.
Lin Qimian couldn’t help but laugh.
Calls from family during time off tended to drag on. Lin Qimian cautioned her, “Don’t wander off too far. Sit on the living room sofa and take your time chatting.”
“Mm!” Xu Yueliang was all obedience.
She picked up the call with a bright “Mom,” then curled up on Lin Qimian’s sofa, hugging a throw pillow close as she spoke in hushed tones.
Lin Qimian went back to savoring the heartfelt breakfast Xu Yueliang had prepared, stealing glances now and then. Xu Yueliang swayed gently back and forth as she chatted away on the phone, looking utterly adorable.
Everything seemed fine at first.
But as Xu Yueliang’s responses grew shorter and farther between, Lin Qimian glanced over again and realized the mood had soured.
Xu Yueliang had stopped swaying. The smile had vanished from her face, and she clutched the pillow so tightly her knuckles whitened. The phone stayed pressed to her ear, answered only with the occasional murmur of “Mm.”
Lin Qimian watched her closely. Xu Yueliang didn’t notice, her head dipping lower and lower until she froze completely still.
The voice droned on from the other end, but Xu Yueliang didn’t even manage an “Mm” anymore.
The sun climbed high into a brilliant sky, pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows and bathing Xu Yueliang in light. Yet her expression remained mired in shadow, unable to break free.
Lin Qimian frowned.
The call dragged on for another ten minutes or so before finally ending.
Xu Yueliang’s hand dropped limply, phone in tow, but she stayed locked in that same posture, staring blankly.
After a long moment, her shoulders gave a faint tremble.
Lin Qimian rose without a second thought and crossed the room in quick strides to stand before her.
She crouched down, bringing herself level with Xu Yueliang’s face.
Tears clung to Xu Yueliang’s long lashes, heavy and quivering, pooled in her reddened eyes without spilling over.
Lin Qimian rested a gentle hand on her arm. “Moon…”
The words weren’t even fully out before the tears broke free, splashing warm against the back of Lin Qimian’s hand.
“Wuu…” Xu Yueliang couldn’t hold it in any longer, a choked sob escaping her.
Lin Qimian pulled her into a tight embrace. Xu Yueliang’s head came to rest on her shoulder as hiccuping cries bubbled up, tears soaking through Lin Qimian’s clothes and brushing damp against her neck.
“Don’t cry, don’t cry…” Lin Qimian murmured on instinct, her palm rubbing soothing circles on Xu Yueliang’s back. Then realization hit, and she corrected herself. “Go ahead and cry… Cry it out. When you’re done, just tell me…”
Xu Yueliang hiccuped twice and shook her head, her soft hair tickling the hollow of Lin Qimian’s neck.
“You don’t want to tell me?” Lin Qimian ventured, caught in the dilemma. “That’s okay. You don’t have to.”
Xu Yueliang sniffed hard, forcing out words at last. “Doctor Lin, you’re… so silly…”
“…”
Xu Yueliang pushed herself upright, pulling away from the embrace, her eyes shimmering with tears as she looked at Lin Qimian. “I want to ask you something.”
Lin Qimian didn’t have tissues handy, so she used her sleeve to dab at the tears. “Go ahead.”
“Is making money really the most important thing?” Xu Yueliang asked.
“No,” Lin Qimian said. “I was just teasing you earlier.”
“And if you weren’t joking?” Xu Yueliang pressed. “What’s more important than money?”
“A lot, a lot.” Lin Qimian gazed at her. “Your health, your happiness, your tears—they all matter far more than making money.”
Xu Yueliang’s lips pursed in a pout, fresh tears welling up in her eyes.
She struggled to force out her plea amid choked sobs. “Then… how many… how many tears do I have to give… to get Doctor Lin to… to play with me… to play with me…”
She held up a single finger. “Play… for a whole day.”
So soft and clingy, even as her emotions crumbled, she tacked a time limit onto her request, terrified that without spelling it out, it might be refused.
A fine, intricate ache bloomed in Lin Qimian’s chest—not the sharp rip of a knife, but something gentler, like sinking deep into a bath of warm milk.
This time, she used nothing but her own thumb, brushing it gently across Xu Yueliang’s soft skin.
It worked better than any tissue ever could. Xu Yueliang froze in place, her mouth slightly agape, eyes wide. Only after a long moment did her lashes finally descend, fluttering against Lin Qimian’s fingertip.
Lin Qimian smiled. “You can’t trade tears for it, you know.”
Xu Yueliang caught on instantly. Before Lin Qimian could say another word, she broke into a sudden grin.
It was her brightest smile yet—lips curving upward, teeth gleaming white. But as her eyes crinkled in delight, the last few tears squeezed free and trickled down.
They slid right into Lin Qimian’s palm.
