The wrap party was packed with people. Tables filled every corner inside and out, every seat taken.
At the main table, Zheng Zhi sat in the seat of honor, with Lin Xianing beside him and Le Yiqiu next to her.
Ten people per table. The producer hadn’t shown up, but everyone else there was someone important on the crew.
Le Yiqiu hadn’t revealed that she was Yiyi, which made her presence a little conspicuous.
She’d quit her job as screenwriter on the crew to attend the wrap party. Everyone except Zheng Zhi assumed she was there to pick up her wife.
Ever since her last set visit, the internet had been buzzing that their relationship was going strong.
The crew had known even sooner. Before she’d quit, she and Lin Xianing had been all lovey-dovey, stuffing everyone with heaps of dog food.
Le Yiqiu could guess what the crew thought—even if they assumed the worst of her, she didn’t care.
She was too busy teasing Kitty beside her. And Kitty was on the verge of puffing up.
She sat obediently next to Lin Xianing, prim as a shy little wife, the picture of social anxiety.
Under the table, though, her hand kept poking at the back of Lin Xianing’s. Each poke turned Lin Xianing’s ears a shade redder.
Thank goodness for Lin Xianing’s top-notch acting skills. She kept a straight face, completely hiding her embarrassment.
As Le Yiqiu poked away, she suddenly froze. The feel was all wrong. She glanced down and immediately sat up straight, not daring to mess around anymore.
Lin Xianing had gotten too warm and picked up her glass for a sip of water to cool off. Le Yiqiu hadn’t noticed and had poked her thigh by accident.
Lin Xianing’s sudden stiff posture made it clear the touch had shocked her.
Le Yiqiu had only meant to tease, not take advantage. Now a flush crept up her neck.
Their reddened cheeks caught Zheng Zhi’s attention as he walked over. “Is the AC cranked too high?”
It was midwinter outside, freezing cold, but the hotel’s AC plus the crowd had the room hovering around seventy or seventy-five degrees.
Dressed in thick hoodies, they were already a bit warm. The tension and shyness from moments ago had them both glistening with a thin sheen of sweat.
At Zheng Zhi’s question, Le Yiqiu let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, too hot.”
Lin Xianing shot her a look, then bashfully pressed her lips together.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Le Yiqiu whispered in Lin Xianing’s ear.
Lin Xianing pressed a finger to her forehead. “You rascal.”
“Hey, no I’m not.”
Le Yiqiu kept her voice low, not wanting anyone to hear her wheedling.
Lin Xianing didn’t stop her. She’d already been indulging these little antics and wasn’t mad. With the coaxing, the stern expression on her face melted away, replaced by a beautiful smile.
“We’re in public. Behave.”
“Can we when we get home?”
Le Yiqiu blinked innocently, though the mischief in her eyes was plain as day.
“In your dreams,” Lin Xianing huffed lightly. “Be good.”
“I am good.”
Le Yiqiu poured herself a cup of tea, took a sip, then leaned toward Lin Xianing until their shoulders touched. She acted casual as could be. “Sis was embarrassed just now, huh?”
“You got embarrassed too.”
Lin Xianing turned her head abruptly, and her lips brushed Le Yiqiu’s cheek. Both women froze.
Had she just kissed Le Yiqiu? A huge question mark popped up in Lin Xianing’s mind.
Le Yiqiu was equally stunned. Lin Xianing had kissed her???
Their inner shock went without saying. Everyone else at the table felt stuffed full of dog food.
As the wrap party’s center of attention, their under-the-table antics had gone unnoticed, but their heads huddled close for whispers? That was in plain view.
The food hadn’t even arrived yet, but they’d already had their fill of affection.
A bunch of people whipped out their phones to snap photos and videos. Lin Xianing’s kiss on Le Yiqiu’s cheek was naturally captured.
Their close little heads, the smiles playing on their lips as they whispered.
They were shipping so hard!!!
A silent scream rose from many in the crowd.
Real couples were the best to ship—especially live and in person. Pure bliss.
Zheng Zhi, sitting right next to them, had gotten the biggest helping. He regretted not begging his own wife to come.
“You two, enough with the PDA. Half the crew’s single here.”
They’d thought they were being discreet, but Zheng Zhi called them out. Their minds went blank with a buzz.
Social death! Utter social death!!!
Showing off in front of everyone like that? They wanted to die!
Through Zheng Zhi’s thank-you speech, his hopes for the film’s success, and all the rest of that dramatic wrap-party drama, they barely heard a word.
As the lead actress, Lin Xianing faced plenty of toasts. Given her status, a tiny sip each time was plenty polite.
Some tried to toast Le Yiqiu too, but she deflected them.
Everyone could see how Lin Xianing protected her, treating her like a little kid.
How much must she adore her to dote like that?
Le Yiqiu didn’t like drinking and didn’t want Lin Xianing drinking for her.
She was an adult—she could handle the socializing herself. Especially blocking drinks. It made her uncomfortable.
Lin Xianing hadn’t touched her own glass much, but she’d downed quite a few for Le Yiqiu’s sake. Her glass emptied sip by sip.
After one drink, Lin Xianing suddenly knocked back a full glass. Everyone figured she was prepping to leave. But then she did another.
Normally, with her star power, she didn’t need to drink that much—even with the director.
Chen Tao eyed her boss’s state nervously and sidled up to Le Yiqiu. “Did you two fight?”
Le Yiqiu shook her head. “Nope.”
The first glass was fine, but by the second, Lin Xianing seemed off.
Others might not know, but Chen Tao spent every day with her and knew her habits.
She rarely drank—maybe a light sip with Big Senior or the director.
Three glasses in a row? Chen Tao was terrified. Her boss had zero tolerance.
In such a short time, Lin Xianing had slammed three glasses of red wine. Chen Tao had never seen her down more than one in public.
After those three, Chen Tao was convinced something had gone down between Lin Xianing and Le Yiqiu.
But they seemed fine. Le Yiqiu looked innocent too.
Chen Tao picked up the glass in front of Lin Xianing and smiled at Zheng Zhi. “Director Zheng, Xiaxia and I need to head back to the city. Here’s a toast to everyone—then we’ll take off.”
Zheng Zhi was ready to go anyway. He’d said his piece, and he’d mostly stuck around because Lin Xianing had.
With that, he agreed happily. Everyone raised their glasses and drained them.
With the director and lead gone, the crew loosened up and partied harder.
Le Yiqiu took Lin Xianing’s hand and headed out. Lin Xianing followed obediently behind.
She was so well-behaved trailing along that Le Yiqiu couldn’t resist glancing back. Then she stopped, waiting for Lin Xianing to catch up.
Chen Tao jogged ahead and had the driver open the car door.
They were underdressed. The evening wind hit them outside the hotel, and they clenched their fists against the chill.
Feeling each other’s shiver, they pressed closer.
Luckily, the car waited right at the entrance. After a brief cold snap, they slipped into the warm interior.
Silence fell. Neither spoke first.
They’d been playful and fine earlier. Why had Lin Xianing started pounding drinks like that?
Le Yiqiu hit the remote, and the partition between the back seat and driver rose.
Chen Tao peered worriedly through it before telling herself: Young couples’ business. Fight at the headboard, make up at the foot. Don’t pry, don’t ask, don’t listen.
In the back, Le Yiqiu was baffled. Where had she upset Lin Xianing?
But if not her, then who?
Lin Xianing reclined the back seat and lay down like she was turning in.
Le Yiqiu took a deep breath and lay beside her.
“Why so much drinking? Chen Tao said you never touch a drop at events unless it’s a respected senior—then just a sip.”
Something had to have caused it tonight for her to drink that much.
Le Yiqiu lay flat, turning her head to Lin Xianing.
Watching her chug like that at the party had ticked her off a little.
Lin Xianing turned too, her eyes full of utter confusion—and a hint of sadness.
One look, and Le Yiqiu’s annoyance vanished. She opened her mouth, but Lin Xianing pinched it shut.
“Shh~”
Lin Xianing drawled lazily, “You’re so noisy.”
Le Yiqiu: “…”
“You’re drunk?”
Lin Xianing waggled a finger, grinning foolishly. “Not drunk.”
Right. Lin Xianing was hammered.
Le Yiqiu huffed, half annoyed, half amused. How dare she drink at the party with that tolerance?
Helpless, she sat up and tucked the blanket over Lin Xianing. “Sleep it off. We talk when you’re sober.”
“I’m not drunk!” Lin Xianing protested.
“Sure, sure, not drunk.”
Le Yiqiu’s sarcasm lit a fire under her. Lin Xianing rolled over, pinning her down.
???
Le Yiqiu stared up at her in a daze, unsure how to react.
“You don’t believe me?”
Lin Xianing didn’t prop herself up. She let her full weight settle on Le Yiqiu.
Luckily, she was light—no real pressure.
Le Yiqiu pulled the blanket over them both. The car’s heat was cozy, but better safe for sleep.
She wrapped an arm around Lin Xianing’s waist, patting her back lightly. “Sleep now.”
Soft and fragrant in her arms, Le Yiqiu wasn’t the sort to stay unaffected. That intoxicating scent enveloped her, stirring a rise of desire.
“No sleep for me.”
Lin Xianing slid off and lay beside her.
They stayed like that for a while. Just as Le Yiqiu thought she’d dozed off, Lin Xianing murmured, “This… isn’t good. You’re divorcing… memories back… you’ll still divorce…”
Her words came haltingly, laced with sorrow. Soon, her breathing evened out.
Le Yiqiu propped herself up. She was out.
Just those few words, and Le Yiqiu got it.
At the party, they’d been so intimate—thinking they were low-key, but actually flaunting it.
They’d just discussed divorce, nearly signed the papers. So what was all this now?
Le Yiqiu sighed. Things had moved too fast lately, gotten too carried away.
She’d forgotten her amnesia. Lin Xianing had every reason to worry. They were so couple-like now, but what if memories returned?
Would they still divorce? What about all this time together?
This near-real intimacy—would it sour when memories hit? How would Lin Xianing cope?
And she’d thought Lin Xianing was inexplicably mad at her? No, she’d been the thoughtless one.
For the first time, Le Yiqiu wished she wouldn’t recover her memories. But it wasn’t up to her.
She even thought—if she really was a transmigrator, great. No going back to eighteen.
Before, she’d wanted to return to her real age fast. Who’d toss away ten years?
Gazing at Lin Xianing’s sleeping face, she realized for the first time: Losing ten years for time with her was worth it.
Life had only a few decades anyway. Even with more, you might not meet the one you wanted to spend it with.
