Chapter 65

Lin Qimian lay down on the bed.

Xu Yueliang was right there beside her, tucked into her own separate quilt.

She wasn’t rolling around anymore. Instead, she’d wrapped herself up tight as a burrito, only her head poking out, those big eyes of hers fixed wide-open on Lin Qimian.

Lin Qimian lay flat on her back, trying her best to strike a pose that looked perfectly relaxed and at ease. But the arm she’d draped outside the quilt cover stayed rigid and tense.

She stole a sidelong glance at Xu Yueliang from the corner of her eye. “What are you staring at?”

Xu Yueliang grinned from ear to ear. “Mianmian, isn’t this fun?”

Lin Qimian: “…”

What exactly was so fun about it? Was she just playing with her?

Lin Qimian’s lips twitched. She stared up at the ceiling. “You can still call me Doctor Lin. You sound… cuter when you do.”

Xu Yueliang: “!!!!”

Xu Yueliang: “Does Doctor Lin like cute things?”

Lin Qimian: “…”

Xu Yueliang: “Does Doctor Lin think I’m not cute otherwise?”

Lin Qimian: “…”

Xu Yueliang: “Is it because calling you Doctor Lin gives that… professional vibe? Like uniform temptation or something, hehehehe…”

Lin Qimian: “…”

Lin Qimian rolled over and reached out to switch off the lamp. “Time to sleep.”

The darkness didn’t last more than a few seconds. With the curtains open, once their eyes adjusted, moonlight and streetlights filtered in, casting clear outlines over everything in the room.

Lin Qimian had already turned her back, but Xu Yueliang wasn’t done with her yet.

There came a soft rustling of fabric, followed by a voice pitched so low it was barely more than a breathy whisper.

“Doctor Lin~~ Are you asleep yet~~?”

Evidently, calling her Doctor Lin didn’t make Xu Yueliang any more obedient.

It had only been a few seconds—Lin Qimian was wide awake, her eyes open. Of course she wasn’t asleep.

She paused for a moment before replying to Xu Yueliang. “No.”

There was a little shift behind her, and Xu Yueliang’s voice drew closer. “Me neither. I was so sleepy before my shower, but now I’m wide awake~~”

Lin Qimian: “You’ve got a performance tomorrow.”

Xu Yueliang: “It’s fine, it’ll be fine. That feeling’s back. Tomorrow on stage, it’ll be just like in the Live Streaming Room—calm and steady…”

Lin Qimian: “The audience seats will be packed tomorrow.”

Xu Yueliang: “!!!!”

Xu Yueliang fell silent, stunned.

Lin Qimian waited half a minute. Still no sound from behind her. A twinge of worry crept in.

All she’d wanted was to get Xu Yueliang to go to sleep quickly, without those big innocent eyes of hers innocently teasing her anymore. The last thing she wanted was to actually scare her and ruin tomorrow’s show.

Lin Qimian rolled over to face Xu Yueliang.

Xu Yueliang was propped on her elbow, eyes still huge and round. When their gazes met, hers flickered.

Lin Qimian reassured her. “Don’t worry. The lights will all be on you up on stage. The crowd below will just be a sea of darkness. Pretend they aren’t there.”

Xu Yueliang nodded.

Lin Qimian: “You weren’t nervous when I was watching from the front row. I’ll be down there tomorrow too. Just pretend there are a few hundred of me in the seats.”

Xu Yueliang broke into a smile, rubbing her cheek against her propped-up arm. “With Lin Mianmian here, I’m not scared~~”

The words came out so sweetly, as if Lin Qimian meant something truly special to her—something irreplaceable.

Lin Qimian let out a long sigh in her heart. She had to admit, this was exactly the kind of thing that got to her.

She’d never liked it when others called her Mianmian before—anyone who did was usually one of those elders or relatives trying to lecture her. But now, with Xu Yueliang saying it, the nickname sounded almost pleasant.

“Mm, I’ll be right here with you.” Unknowingly, Lin Qimian had softened her voice. She urged her once more. “Now be good and go to sleep.”

Xu Yueliang paused, her eyes sparkling with a hint of excitement. “Won’t Mianmian do our usual girls’ bedtime chat?”

Lin Qimian: “Hm?”

Xu Yueliang: “You know, the stuff girls always talk about when they sleep together. Like, any boys you like? How many relationships have you had…?”

Lin Qimian’s heart skipped a little beat. She cut her off. “What about you? Any boys you like?”

Xu Yueliang froze, short-circuiting.

Lin Qimian watched her quietly, her expression calm and unruffled, though her fingers clenched tighter and tighter under the quilt.

“I don’t.” Xu Yueliang finally answered, her voice trembling faintly. “I don’t like any boys.”

Lin Qimian’s breathing grew erratic. She pressed on. “What about relationships? How many have you been in?”

Xu Yueliang’s mouth fell slightly open, her breaths coming quick and shallow through her nose. “None. I’ve never been in a relationship.”

Lin Qimian felt her pupils trembling in time with her heartbeat.

The flood of information was overwhelming, crashing into her too fiercely, too directly. She couldn’t muster the rationality to sort through it all, letting her impulsive emotions rampage unchecked toward the answer she’d been yearning for.

Xu Yueliang was so beautiful, so adorable—obedient and soft, innocent and brimming with girlish fantasies. Yet she’d never liked a single boy or been in any relationship.

Lin Qimian lowered her gaze, unable to stop the smile curving her lips.

Because she wasn’t a boy, and she hadn’t appeared in Xu Yueliang’s romantic history. That meant she still had a chance.

A damn good one.

Lin Qimian knew when to quit while she was ahead and didn’t press further. Xu Yueliang watched her, wrinkling her nose as she asked in a quivering voice, “Doctor Lin, what are you smiling about…?”

“Hm?” Lin Qimian hummed softly, rolling over to lie flat as if settling in to sleep. “Was I smiling?”

“You were!” Xu Yueliang blurted, suddenly flustered. She wriggled over beneath the covers like a silkworm emerging from its cocoon, propping herself up to peer down at Lin Qimian. “You smiled just now—you’re laughing at me… Are you making fun of me for being this old and never having dated??? Wuuu, I didn’t want it to turn out this way…”

Lin Qimian lifted an eyelid, meeting her eyes. “You didn’t want it to?”

“There was no one I liked.” Xu Yueliang sniffled, staring at her. It was pretend crying, but her eyes still shimmered with genuine wetness. “Finding someone you actually like is so hard…”

Lin Qimian: “Not really.”

Xu Yueliang blinked. “Huh?”

Lin Qimian: “The hard part is… finding them and then not being able to forget.”

Xu Yueliang’s mouth parted slightly as she stared at Lin Qimian for a long moment.

In this intimate position, on this silent night, with a question that stabbed straight to Lin Qimian’s heart.

Lin Qimian feared that if Xu Yueliang kept looking at her like that, she’d blurt out something world-shaking. So she reached up and tugged her down.

Moon tumbled onto her, landing squarely in her arms.

Lin Qimian wrapped her arms around her, rolling onto her side to pin the restless creature in place. Her voice brushed against her ear: “Alright, Baby. Time to sleep.”

Xu Yueliang shivered.

A shiver you could feel.

Lin Qimian’s forehead pressed against her shoulder blade as she smiled, the vibration of her voice humming through Xu Yueliang’s body—undeniable proof.

“Wuu…” Xu Yueliang whimpered, kicking her legs before burrowing completely under the covers.

She pulled them up tight, leaving only a single stray lock of tousled hair poking out.

Finally, silence. No more words.

Ten minutes later, the breathing from beneath the covers grew steady and even; she was out cold. Then her hand flopped out, and she wriggled free again.

Lin Qimian carefully slipped her arm free and, in the cramped space, gazed at Moon in the dim night.

Xu Yueliang slept soundly, her long hair splayed in disarray, looking utterly harmless.

Lin Qimian, however, was wide awake.

It was probably a habit from her streaming days—even after a late night, Xu Yueliang could still wake up right on schedule the next morning.

When she opened her eyes, her vision was hazy, something heavy pressing down and blurring everything.

She reached out to shove it away and met something impossibly soft, like a cloud.

Xu Yueliang jolted fully awake. Heat exploded across her face and scalp, so intense she half-expected fireworks to erupt before her eyes.

She sprang back, bouncing to the far side of the bed, and stared in horror at Lin Qimian—whose collar had been yanked halfway down to her chest.

Lin Qimian was crystal clear-headed, her pale eyes drifting over coolly, lashing across Xu Yueliang’s face like a reprimanding whip.

Xu Yueliang clapped her hands over her burning cheeks.

Lin Qimian lifted a hand, leisurely straightening her clothes before shifting into a more comfortable position—only then did she seem truly at ease.

“Your sleeping posture is awful…” she remarked.

“Aaaah…” Xu Yueliang was a total mess. She scrambled right back to Lin Qimian’s side, scanning her up and down without knowing where to begin. “Sorry, sorry, Doctor Lin! Sometimes I flail around in my sleep—I never meant to flail all over you, wuuu, I’m really sorry, I I I…”

She was on the verge of tears from sheer panic.

“Silly girl.” Lin Qimian reached up, ruffled her hair, then turned away and shut her eyes. “I need a bit more sleep.”

She offered no further explanation—and none was needed.

Xu Yueliang filled in all the blanks herself: how she’d thrashed about in her sleep, disturbing Lin Qimian’s rest; add in the memories of what she’d done and said right before bed last night, and she felt utterly wretched.

She sat there on the bed in a daze for a moment, not daring to make a peep.

But then her phone rang. To avoid missing any calls from her producer, Xu Yueliang hadn’t set it to vibrate or silent.

Xu Yueliang hurried over in a panic and hung up the phone. When she turned to look at Lin Qimian, sure enough, Lin Qimian had opened her eyes and was watching her.

“What’s wrong?” Lin Qimian asked. “Who was that?”

Xu Yueliang glanced at her phone. “An unknown number…”

There was a new message in WeChat too. She tapped it open and let out an “Ah!” “It’s from a teacher in the Makeup Design Group. They want me to come early to try on my makeup.”

Lin Qimian frowned slightly. “Isn’t everyone supposed to gather at one o’clock?”

Xu Yueliang scrolled through the messages in the Performing Staff Group chat. “I don’t know how that happened… Let me check if anyone else got called in early…”

Lin Qimian said, “Call them back.”

“Oh, right, okay.” Xu Yueliang nodded obediently and quickly redialed. The call connected just as Lin Qimian sat up in bed, so Xu Yueliang switched it to speakerphone.

The voice on the other end explained clearly: Director Zhou had been very pleased with Xu Yueliang’s makeup and styling from yesterday, but when he found out it hadn’t been done by their own Makeup Design Group, he’d instructed the person in charge to reach out to her early today. They wanted her to come in ahead of schedule for a trial run and do their best to recreate the look from yesterday’s rehearsal.

Xu Yueliang glanced at Lin Qimian, who gave a small nod.

“Got it, Teacher,” Xu Yueliang replied.

After the call ended, she clutched her phone tightly. “Sorry, Doctor Lin. I woke you up again…”

“It’s fine.” Lin Qimian smiled. “What I’m really curious about now is whether they’ve got the chops to recreate Teacher Ji’s makeup from yesterday.”

Xu Yueliang hesitated. “Ah… that’s… risky…”

Lin Qimian threw back the covers and slid out of bed. “Come on. Let’s wash up, grab some breakfast, and head over together.”

Xu Yueliang trailed right after her. “Doctor Lin, Doctor Lin, shouldn’t you sleep a bit more? You said earlier you needed to rest. I can go by myself—I know the drill. Director Zhou’s given the order, so they won’t dare mess with me anymore~~ Didn’t you sleep well? Your dark circles look heavier. I kept you up half the night yesterday, and I just passed out after stumbling around. I’m really sorry. What time did you finally get to sleep?”

Lin Qimian came to a stop. Xu Yueliang couldn’t brake in time and bumped right into her back.

Lin Qimian caught her arm to steady her, then fixed her with a steady gaze. She stared until Xu Yueliang’s cheeks flushed bright red before speaking. “You’re the reason I couldn’t sleep well.”

Xu Yueliang’s lips trembled into a pout, her brows knitting together as guilt welled up in her eyes, tears threatening to spill.

Lin Qimian pinched her cheek, dropping her usual calm, detached tone. Her voice turned fierce. “Tonight, I’m tying you up. Right to the bedframe. I’ll blindfold those eyes of yours too. Let’s see if this little mouth can still run on and on.”