Xu Yueliang stared at her with wide eyes and didn’t dare say another word.
After Lin Qimian finished washing up and changing clothes, Xu Yueliang had already packed her own backpack and taken Lin Qimian’s bag down from the hanger. She held it in both hands, waiting for Lin Qimian to come over so she could help her put it on.
Lin Qimian glanced at her, and Xu Yueliang blinked her eyes rapidly, shifting her gaze downward a bit.
Lin Qimian walked over, took the bag, and slung it on her back. She changed her shoes and headed out, with Xu Yueliang obediently following behind her. Xu Yueliang grabbed the room card and properly closed the door.
It wasn’t too early, nor too late.
The sun hung obliquely in the mid-sky, stretching their shadows long.
After walking a good distance out of the hotel, Xu Yueliang stayed exactly one step behind Lin Qimian, stepping on her shadow as she walked.
When they reached the alley entrance, Lin Qimian turned back and asked her, “What do you want to eat?”
“I can eat anything!” Xu Yueliang looked up and said, “That stuffed pancake looks so fragrant!”
Lin Qimian pinched her sleeve and pulled her to a position parallel to herself. “Then we’ll have stuffed pancakes.”
Xu Yueliang secretly glanced at her.
Lin Qimian asked, “Scared enough not to eat pancakes anymore?”
“No, no…” Xu Yueliang waved her hands. “I’m not that scared…”
Lin Qimian looked at her, and Xu Yueliang exclaimed, “!!! I’m still very scared!”
Xu Yueliang covered her mouth. “Doctor Lin, I was wrong. I won’t talk anymore…”
Lin Qimian was amused yet helpless.
When they first met, Xu Yueliang didn’t talk much. As they grew more familiar, she talked a lot when excited, a lot when nervous, and a lot when embarrassed—chattering nonstop like a little sparrow using words to distract herself.
Lin Qimian didn’t mind her talking so much; she found the little sparrow utterly adorable.
But the little sparrow kept bringing up last night, making Lin Qimian’s heart flutter uneasily. Who knew if she’d slip up under all that pressure.
Xu Yueliang bounced over to the snack shop to buy things, and the morning light fell on her hair, making the floating strands shimmer golden.
Lin Qimian let out a long breath and rubbed her temples, which ached faintly from lack of sleep.
When had she slept? She hadn’t slept much at all.
When Xu Yueliang was cold, she sought out heat and snuggled into her arms. When she was hot, her arms and legs stretched out from under the covers and draped over her.
It was clearly two beds pushed together into one big bed, but Xu Yueliang ignored the seam in the middle entirely, rolling around freely. Once asleep, she showed Lin Qimian no restraint at all.
Lin Qimian had always thought she was a fairly… low-desire person.
Last night made her realize just how much self-control it took to be so close to temptation and remain unmoved.
If possible, she really should tie Xu Yueliang up tonight.
But the ropes had to be soft, the angles comfortable—ideally padded with something. Otherwise, Xu Yueliang’s slender white wrists and ankles would chafe and end up with red marks…
“Doctor Lin~~” Xu Yueliang called to her, shaking the bag in her hand. “Do you want one too~~”
She raised her hand, and her sleeve slid down, exposing a lotus-root-like section of arm that gleamed white under the sunlight.
Lin Qimian closed her eyes briefly. In broad daylight, she felt like a beast in human clothing.
After passing through the alley, they finished their breakfast.
When they arrived at the Broadcast Building, a crowd had gathered at the main entrance, cordoned off by security on both sides—mostly celebrity fans or professional photographers.
Xu Yueliang craned her neck to look over there. Lin Qimian glanced at it and asked her, “Want to go see?”
Xu Yueliang looked a couple more times, then withdrew her gaze and kept walking. “No need. I saw it yesterday~~”
She turned to ask Lin Qimian, “Does Mianmian want to see?”
Lin Qimian replied, “Mianmian doesn’t want to see. Mianmian has no interest in other celebrities.”
Xu Yueliang pursed her lips and secretly smiled.
Lin Qimian asked, “Does Little Moon want that kind of fanfare too?”
Xu Yueliang pouted. “To say I don’t want it at all would be a lie. Who wouldn’t want to be popular? But I don’t crave it that much—it’s nice to have, but fine without.”
Lin Qimian said, “Little Moon, keep it up.”
Xu Yueliang blinked. “Huh? Why say that suddenly?”
Lin Qimian said expressionlessly, “Don’t you have it now?”
Xu Yueliang froze for a few seconds before she caught on.
Once she did, she burst into giggles, laughing so hard her body rocked back and forth.
Lin Qimian curved the corner of her lips, in a good mood too.
After yesterday’s performance, Xu Yueliang’s treatment today was completely different.
The head of the makeup team personally came to escort Xu Yueliang to a private dressing room. The room was spacious and bright, with two makeup artists waiting and no one else around.
Everyone greeted Xu Yueliang politely, and she nodded in response. After sitting down, she turned her head to glance at Lin Qimian.
Lin Qimian settled onto the sofa behind her and casually picked up a magazine. “Take your time. I’ll keep you company.”
Xu Yueliang drew in a deep breath, her face a mask of tension and astonishment.
The makeup artists flanking her on either side turned to look at Lin Qimian as well, but she kept her eyes lowered on the magazine, not sparing them so much as a glance.
Xu Yueliang faced the mirror, which reflected her image in crystal clarity.
The male makeup artist to her left was the one she’d encountered yesterday. She couldn’t quite recall exactly who had turned down her desperate plea back then, but she remembered his upturned eye corners.
He favored elongating his eyeliner, which made his sidelong glances all the more arrogant.
She’d never seen the female makeup artist on her right before. Right now, the woman appeared mild-mannered, her smile gentle and warm. Xu Yueliang couldn’t help wondering whether, if she’d gone to that dressing room yesterday, the woman would have worn the same expression—or if she might have offered a helping hand.
The lead stylist bent down to confer with Xu Yueliang about the makeup design, asking if she had photos from yesterday’s look. Xu Yueliang reached back hastily. “Lin…”
The word caught in her throat. For a moment, she wasn’t sure what to call her.
Whenever she wanted to show respect, make a request, or speak in front of others, she preferred “Doctor Lin.” But right now, Lin Qimian sported some production team badge procured from God-knows-where. She lounged on the sofa with her legs crossed, exuding a casual poise that was aloof and regal—nothing at all like the gentle, elegant Doctor Lin.
Xu Yueliang wasn’t about to play the fool and expose Doctor Lin’s identity like that.
She ran her tongue around her mouth, and by then Doctor Lin had already lifted her gaze to meet hers. Only then did Xu Yueliang manage, “Mianmian… my phone’s in my bag…”
“Mm.” Lin Qimian acknowledged her softly, retrieved the phone from the bag, and passed it over.
Xu Yueliang pulled up the photos to show the makeup artists, with Lin Qimian still standing right beside her.
Their eyes met in the mirror. Xu Yueliang shifted slightly and whispered, “Good thing you took these pictures for me~”
Lin Qimian smiled, her tone gentle. “You insisted I do it.”
The lead stylist glanced their way, and Xu Yueliang flushed a deep crimson.
She twisted her head away from Lin Qimian. Lin Qimian returned to the sofa, abandoning the magazine to watch Xu Yueliang’s reflection instead.
The makeup artists conferred for quite some time before finally getting to work.
But their technique fell far short of Teacher Ji’s. The process dragged on forever, and the results were a pale imitation.
They’d managed to mimic the surface, but not the essence beneath.
When the makeup was finished at last, Xu Yueliang rose and turned to Lin Qimian. “How does it look?”
Lin Qimian offered a brief smile—one laced with mockery and teasing that would have sent a chill down anyone’s spine.
“Our Moon still looks good,” she said.
Our Moon still looks good.
Xu Yueliang’s beauty was always worth praising, of course. But that little word “still” invested the compliment with layers of pointed meaning.
Xu Yueliang’s brows twitched faintly, but Lin Qimian said nothing more. She stood and extended her hand. “Director Zhou’s in the studio right now. Let’s go say hello.”
“Oh, sure.” Xu Yueliang stepped away from the chair and hurried over, slipping her hand into Lin Qimian’s. Then she turned back to the makeup artists and bowed. “Thank you, teachers. You’ve all worked so hard~~”
The teachers responded with awkward pleasantries and strained smiles, their tension as palpable as overworked employees bracing for a performance review from the boss.
Xu Yueliang trailed after Lin Qimian out of the dressing room. It wasn’t until they’d put some distance behind them that she whispered, “Mianmian~ Are we really going to see Director Zhou?”
Lin Qimian clasped that soft hand, enveloping Xu Yueliang’s entire fist in her own palm. “Mm. He went out of his way to arrange this makeup trial for you. We’ll just exchange a few words.”
Xu Yueliang looked up at her, worry creasing her features. “But this makeup… it’s worlds apart from yesterday’s.”
Lin Qimian smiled. “Is it? I can’t tell.”
Xu Yueliang: “…”
Xu Yueliang: “You can tell. You’re so mean~”
Lin Qimian merely smiled, offering no reply.
Xu Yueliang tapped her toe lightly against the floor. “But Doctor Lin said she’d show me her bad side.”
Lin Qimian: “Mm.”
Xu Yueliang’s steps felt light as air. “And even though what you did was pretty bad, I don’t think you’re bad at all~~”
Lin Qimian: “Because you’re aligned with the bad guy.”
Xu Yueliang’s eyes curved into delighted crescents as she laughed. “Because the bad guy’s doing it for my sake~~”
For my sake. Avenging me. Xu Yueliang understood it all perfectly well in her heart.
She wasn’t the sort to nurse grudges or seek retribution at every slight. Most of the time, she simply endured and moved on. Revenge was a luxury she rarely entertained.
But with Lin Qimian by her side, even the most extravagant desires suddenly felt within reach.
After all, the person who had once seemed the most unattainable was now right by her side, holding her hand.
They arrived at the studio, where Director Zhou was indeed inside the hall, frowning as he scolded the staff standing nearby.
Among the staff was the lead producer Xu Yueliang recognized, who now stood there with her head bowed and her back hunched, looking utterly pitiful under his tirade.
Xu Yueliang glanced at Lin Qimian. Lin Qimian said, “It has nothing to do with me.”
Lin Qimian eyed the makeup on her face. “This really has nothing to do with me. If you don’t do your own job properly, getting scolded is just par for the course.”
Xu Yueliang: “Oh.”
Once Director Zhou finished chewing out the group, he waved them off dismissively. Spotting Xu Yueliang and Lin Qimian, he turned to them.
Lin Qimian gave a greeting: “Hello, Director Zhou.”
Director Zhou smiled. “You tagging along again today, huh?”
Lin Qimian smiled back, tugging Xu Yueliang forward a step before letting go of her hand.
Xu Yueliang hurriedly bowed to Director Zhou and explained that she’d gone for the makeup trial as he’d requested.
Director Zhou stared at Xu Yueliang’s face for a long moment.
He pointed to the stage. “Hop up there so I can get a proper look.”
Xu Yueliang scurried onto the stage. The bright lights hit her face, and Director Zhou’s brows twisted into knots like a braided rope.
“What the hell is this…” he muttered sharply, beckoning her down. “I’m not saying it’s your fault, though…”
Xu Yueliang: “Ah, got it, Director.”
Director Zhou turned to Lin Qimian. “You two take a break for now. Head back for the afternoon call time.”
“Okay.” Lin Qimian took Xu Yueliang’s hand once more.
They headed out, but after just a few steps, Director Zhou’s voice boomed behind them as he yelled into his phone: “What’s the deal! You can’t even match the damn picture? Tell me—what’s so difficult about it! Is this your best makeup artist? Is this the level of professionalism from your team?!”
Xu Yueliang stuck out her tongue.
Lin Qimian: “Want to eavesdrop?”
Xu Yueliang shook her head vigorously, picking up her pace. “Nope, nope. It scares me just hearing it.”
“Fine, then we won’t.” Lin Qimian went along with her.
Xu Yueliang kept her eyes down. “Yesterday after Teacher Ji finished, I knew hardly anyone could pull off that same effect. Director Zhou probably has no clue…”
Lin Qimian: “It’s easy to go from frugal to lavish, but damn near impossible to go the other way.”
Xu Yueliang: “So, Lin Qimian, how much did it actually cost to book Teacher Ji?”
Lin Qimian paused to think. “You know how it is with pros like that—their schedules are booked solid. Money alone doesn’t cut it.”
Xu Yueliang: “Ah…”
Lin Qimian grinned. “So rather than owing me for makeup fees, let’s call it a huge favor you owe me.”
Xu Yueliang: “Ah…”
Lin Qimian arched a delicate brow, clearly in high spirits. “Better start thinking about how you’ll pay it back.”
