Chapter 57

Fireworks bloomed one after another—there were just so many that Huang Xiaoyi was starting to doze off while watching them.

The shops along the river that hadn’t closed yet sent their staff outside to gaze at the display, and before long, people began drifting over from the nearby streets.

It wasn’t like the massive crowds during events in the heart of the city, where bodies pressed together shoulder to shoulder.

Instead, there were just scattered folks tilting their heads skyward amid the hearts raining down from above, beautiful as an establishing shot in an anime.

Huang Xiaoyi pulled out her phone and snapped a few shots of the fireworks, then a few of the river view. Naturally, her lens soon swung toward her desk mate.

Even though the three of them were huddled around a small round table, Lin Qimian and Xu Yueliang sat just a touch closer together, leaving Huang Xiaoyi to sprawl across half the surface.

Yet despite their proximity, they still maintained a careful sliver of social distance between them—something that filled Huang Xiaoyi with endless emotion.

She captured several photos: Xu Yueliang craning her neck to watch the fireworks; Lin Qimian gazing tenderly at Xu Yueliang; the two of them exchanging smiles. And then… the blanket slipping from Xu Yueliang’s lap, only for Lin Qimian to notice in an instant and tug it back into place.

Huang Xiaoyi’s mind rang with a chorus of tut-tut-tuts.

At last, the final boom echoed out.

Xu Yueliang whipped her head around to Lin Qimian, beaming. “Nineteen thousand nine hundred!”

Lin Qimian gazed into her sparkling eyes and thought that no amount of fireworks lighting up the sky or rippling across the water could rival the beauty of Xu Yueliang’s gaze when she was this happy.

“Did you actually count them all?” Lin Qimian asked with a smile.

Xu Yueliang shook her head, her ponytail swishing along with it. “No way~~ But I remembered what Doctor Lin said~~”

Suddenly, she flung her arms wide, scooping up a massive armful of empty air and hugging it to her chest. Then she wriggled closer to Lin Qimian.

“Hearts for Lin Mianmian too~” Xu Yueliang said, peering down at the hearts cradled in her arms.

“Okay.” Lin Qimian reached right into the embrace and snatched a handful.

“Ah!” Xu Yueliang’s performance was flawless despite the lack of props—her arms visibly recoiled as she peeked into Lin Qimian’s grasp. “Mianmian stole the biggest, best heart!”

Huang Xiaoyi: “…”

Huang Xiaoyi: “Wahhh, I want some too… Xiao Yi wants some too…”

“There’s plenty for Xiao Yi!” Xu Yueliang cooed in the soothing tone of a kindergarten teacher placating a child. “How could we ever forget Xiao Yi~~”

She shuffled over with the remaining hearts. “Here, Xiao Yi—pick one.”

Huang Xiaoyi: “Kids pick and choose. Adults take it all.”

With that, she flung her arms wide and claimed every last one of Xu Yueliang’s imaginary hearts.

Xu Yueliang: “！！！！”

Xu Yueliang feigned solemn shock. “Wow, Xiao Yi is so bold and ambitious, with her sights set high—the stuff of great achievements.”

“Heh heh heh.” Huang Xiaoyi clutched her armful of air, grinning from ear to ear.

The three of them chatted and laughed, far more at ease than they’d been during their earlier dinner.

By the time the food was mostly gone and the excitement had ebbed away, Xu Yueliang found herself staring blankly out at the river. She even struck up a conversation with Huang Xiaoyi about An City No.1 Middle School.

The old sports field at An City No.1 Middle School. The giant paulownia tree in the central teaching area of An City No.1 Middle School.

The school store at An City No.1 Middle School. The notoriously strict discipline director at An City No.1 Middle School…

These were the sorts of topics that flowed effortlessly whenever students from No.1 Middle School got together. They dove into the minutiae—how many times the track had been repaved, the kinds of clothes the director always wore—without missing a beat.

Lin Qimian listened quietly. She could dredge up faint impressions from her own memories but found she couldn’t really chime in.

She had lived through those scenes, known those people. But back then, everything had been shrouded in gloom; what she’d seen and heard had differed sharply from the vibrant experiences of most teenagers.

She had no love for those memories, so she’d skipped every class reunion and ignored outreach from old classmates.

Hearing Xu Yueliang and Huang Xiaoyi reminisce so leisurely now felt strangely novel, even entertaining.

It was as if another door had swung open, washing splashes of bright color over her drab recollections.

No one brought up the matters between Xu Yueliang and Lin Qimian, though—no mention of the gifts, the letters, or that awkward misunderstanding.

They lingered until well past one in the morning, by which point most of the city’s lights had winked out.

The shop was closing up, so they sent the girls off with a lovely fruit platter.

Xu Yueliang and Huang Xiaoyi attacked the fruit with gusto, determined to squeeze every bit of value from the freebie.

When they finally stood to leave, they were burping and rubbing their bellies, utterly devoid of any pretense.

Huang Xiaoyi had never been one for fussing over her image anyway, and there was no point doing so in front of Lin Qimian and Xu Yueliang.

After all, those two were knockout beauties through and through. Huang Xiaoyi was just your average girl—no amount of primping would put her in their league.

So she leaned into it, and when the shop’s closing music started playing, she even busted out a hilariously sloppy folk dance.

Xu Yueliang dissolved into peals of laughter.

Xu Yueliang did care a little about her image. After standing up, she would smooth out her clothes and backpack, brush the strands of hair off her cheek, and in those silly moments, hastily avert her gaze from Lin Qimian.

But she didn’t want to care too much, either. She came out dressed in whatever, tore into crabs with wild abandon, and laughed loudly when she was happy, without bottling up her emotions.

She wanted Lin Qimian to see her—the real her.

The version that never appeared in the live streaming room.

Not polished enough, not pretty enough, kind of goofy, not quite as lovable as she could be.

That way, if Doctor Lin still wanted to be friends, still wanted to drag her out for a late-night meal, still wanted to call her when she was bored… then that affection would be genuine. Genuine enough to make her heart race with joy, genuine enough to give her lasting peace of mind.

Back in Lin Qimian’s car, Huang Xiaoyi took the wheel this time, while Lin Qimian and Xu Yueliang naturally slid into the back seat.

Huang Xiaoyi was in high spirits. She connected to the Bluetooth and blasted music from her phone playlist, belting out occasional roars along with the tunes, her voice full and hearty.

Xu Yueliang sank into the plush seat, with Lin Qimian beside her—cool and pristine, like frost-kissed moonlight. Outside was the night, and inside the car was dim too. Streetlights flashed by one after another, casting Lin Qimian’s silhouette in fleeting glows, her shadow dancing lightly across Xu Yueliang.

Xu Yueliang wanted to talk to her. After all, as Xiaoyi had said, their first stop was dropping Moon off at home. She wouldn’t have many more chances today to chat face-to-face with Doctor Lin.

She sneaked a glance over. Lin Qimian’s gaze had been drifting vaguely ahead, but the moment she sensed the attention, she turned right to her.

Caught in the act of peeking, Xu Yueliang’s heart couldn’t help but speed up.

“Doctor Lin…” she began in a daze, latching onto the most mundane topic imaginable. “The events in our city lately have been pretty decent, huh~”

Lin Qimian’s brow twitched. “Mm…”

Xu Yueliang: “Exploded all those hearts—every red heart toward China.”

Lin Qimian: “…Mm.”

Xu Yueliang: “The promotion could’ve been better, though, and the timing was way too late. Not many locals showed up.”

Huang Xiaoyi: “Pfft.”

Lin Qimian: “Probably a last-minute addition. Shows we’re focused on real results, not just hype.”

Xu Yueliang: “Doctor Lin’s right! Things are getting better and better for everyone!”

Huang Xiaoyi: “Pfft pfft.”

Lin Qimian: “Leaky mouth? Want me to stitch it up for you?”

Huang Xiaoyi clamped her lips shut.

Xu Yueliang rubbed her hands together and finally edged toward the real topic. “Doctor Lin, you’ve been watching my streams for a good while lately…”

Lin Qimian: “Mm.”

Xu Yueliang turned her head to look at her. “What parts do you like best? What parts do you hate? Which segments do you skip to do something else? From your perspective, which direction should my streams head in to do better~~~?”

Lin Qimian: “Mm…”

Tough questions to answer.

Without lying to Xu Yueliang, the first three were genuinely hard.

Just like with the fireworks earlier—hard to answer.

Huang Xiaoyi fake-coughed twice and patted the steering wheel.

With no response from Lin Qimian, she chimed in. “Moon, I can take this one first. Qimian doesn’t usually… watch this stuff, so she doesn’t have much to compare it to. She’s not super familiar.”

Xu Yueliang had no objections—in fact, she whipped out her phone’s notes app, ready to jot it all down. “Oh, okay! Go ahead, Senior Sister Xiaoyi.”

Huang Xiaoyi had devoured plenty of gossip over the years, and her recent research hadn’t been for nothing. She dove right in, speaking with the flair of a critic holding forth on the world.

She started with an analysis of the shifts in Xu Yueliang’s fanbase since her recent explosion in popularity, moved to the hallmarks of streamers like her, then cited several reference examples for her development path. It was structured, detailed, balanced, incisive, and comprehensive.

Xu Yueliang’s mouth hung open as she listened, her fingers flying across the keyboard. She filled a full page.

Lin Qimian glanced at her slender, rounded fingertips. Even Xu Yueliang’s phone font was a cute, bubbly style—1234—like a freshman’s class notes.

Huang Xiaoyi talked herself hoarse, right up until the navigation chimed: “You have arrived at your destination.”

Huang Xiaoyi: “Ah…”

The car pulled to a stop by the roadside of the parking lot where they’d started. Huang Xiaoyi turned to look at Lin Qimian. “I, uh… kinda lost control once I got going.”

Lin Qimian said, “It’s fine. You did great.”

Xu Yueliang nodded repeatedly. “Yes, yes! Senior Sister Xiaoyi put it perfectly. I think about these things all the time too, but I tend to focus more on my own perspective. You cover every angle, especially the fans’ psychology. It’s really given me a lot to think about!!!”

“That’s good.” Huang Xiaoyi smiled. “Buy me some milk tea when you have time.”

“Yes!!!” Xu Yueliang agreed vigorously.

Lin Qimian pushed open the car door. “I’ll walk you back.”

Xu Yueliang froze for a moment, then hurriedly pushed her own door open and got out. She turned to Huang Xiaoyi. “Senior Sister, drive forward just a little more. You can pull over temporarily there.”

“Okay.” Huang Xiaoyi smoothly drove the car ahead.

Now it was just Lin Qimian and Xu Yueliang. Lin Qimian had no idea where Xu Yueliang actually lived, so she watched her, waiting. After a brief pause, Xu Yueliang suddenly hopped forward a step. “Doctor Lin, this way…”

“Mm.” Lin Qimian followed a single pace behind, her eyes fixed on the slender, fragile silhouette ahead.

Xu Yueliang clutched her backpack strap, twisting it over and over in her hands.

The road had felt endlessly long on the way there, but now, on the way back, it seemed far too short. The midnight streets lay silent, the streetlights drawing their shadows out thin and elongated.

The entrance to the residential complex came into view. Xu Yueliang spun around abruptly, planting herself right in front of Lin Qimian.

Lin Qimian halted just in time, inches from collision, and looked down at the face so tantalizingly close.

Xu Yueliang gripped the strap tighter, straightened her posture, and spoke with resolute force, her voice ringing clear. “Doctor Lin, thank you for treating me to late-night snacks today! And the fireworks! I had a great time!”

Lin Qimian smiled, her gaze softening with warmth. “I’m glad you were happy.”

“I wasn’t happy at first!” Xu Yueliang’s lips trembled as she continued. “Did you see what some of my longtime fans said in the live stream? Just like Senior Sister Xiaoyi pointed out, I can’t appeal to both crowds. I have to pick one.”

Lin Qimian nodded. “Right.”

Xu Yueliang bowed her head. “Yun Jie thinks the success I’ve built over these years is hard-won, and I should hold on to what I have. Senior Sister Xiaoyi believes the new direction offers fresh opportunities worth chasing. I… I want to ask…”

She peeked up shyly, her eyes flickering like a startled butterfly. “Doctor Lin, which one do you like?”

“Which one?” Lin Qimian asked softly.

Xu Yueliang clarified. “Well, you’ve watched my streams before. You must have seen my old dance videos. Do you like that version of me… or the one from the live stream these past couple of days…”

I like them all.

Lin Qimian answered the question silently, countless times in her heart.

Making me choose just one part of what makes you you—that’s an impossible puzzle.

I can’t be like those innocent young girls, basking only in your cuteness. Nor can I be like those men consumed by lust for you, lost solely in your sensuality.

I’m neither… and yet I’m both.

My faltering reason forever tugs against my surging emotions. My racing pulse battles my strained nerves.

When it comes to you, I can’t offer the kind of impartial advice anyone else might.

“But none of that matters.” Lin Qimian’s voice was gentle.

Xu Yueliang looked up in surprise, meeting her eyes. Lin Qimian held her gaze steadily. “None of it matters.”

“Who sees you however they want—whoever tries to decide for you.

“You can take it as reference. You can heed their advice.

“But the most important thing will always be you. Yourself.”

Lin Qimian continued. “What you think. The version of yourself that you love.

“The path you’re about to take—it has to be one that your heart yearns for, even through every trial and hardship.”