Chapter 52 Part 2

Without waiting for a refusal, she kissed her again. And just like that, they were girlfriends.

At this point, Luo Luo looked up. “Maybe… she never actually agreed.”

“I was scared she’d turn me down, so I kissed her to cut off any chance.”

“If I hadn’t done that, maybe we wouldn’t have this awkward, insecure limbo instead of progressing.”

Luo Luo was swamped that period. Entertainers were always busy—filming year-round, plus other gigs. They rarely had alone time.

They relied on phones to stay connected.

Luo Luo was the affectionate one, sharing all sorts of things proactively.

But Kang Han never initiated shares. Only if Luo Luo asked about her day would she give brief replies.

Sometimes, Luo Luo didn’t even feel like they were girlfriends—just slightly better than strangers.

When Luo Luo called, Kang Han would chat briefly then hang up, citing busyness.

Even late-night calls failed; Kang Han’s routine was strict—bed by 10:30, phone off at 11.

Luo Luo’s schedule was erratic, and Kang Han’s late nights made syncing impossible.

But once, Luo Luo made rare time to return to Jianglin City, only to find Kang Han wasn’t as busy as claimed.

She got off work on time. All those “overtime” excuses, and she was home early.

Maybe working from home? Luo Luo made excuses in her mind.

She called Kang Han, who said she was still at the office working late.

In that moment, Luo Luo’s heart felt pierced by countless needles, the pain stealing her breath.

So, Kang Han just didn’t want to deal with her. The overtime and no-time excuses were lies.

Her presence was a burden, suffocating.

Kang Han lied just to escape her.

No wonder the indifferent replies, one-word answers to a dozen messages.

No sharing? Simple—she didn’t like her anymore.

If the feelings were gone, what more reason did they need?

She didn’t want to chat with her, didn’t want to spend time with her, didn’t want to share anything with her… She was unwilling to do any of the things that couples do. Wasn’t that obvious enough?

Luo Luo felt her heart shatter. She stood downstairs from Kang Han’s apartment and made one last phone call.

“Kang Han?”

“Mm?”

Clutching her final shred of hope, she asked, “Are you still at the company?”

“Mm.”

What an indifferent voice. Luo Luo looked up toward the floor where Kang Han lived. The lights were on.

This relationship with Kang Han had been something Luo Luo had forced into existence from the start. Now it was time to give Kang Han her freedom back.

“Kang Han…”

Just thinking about the words that came next made tears slide down Luo Luo’s cheeks.

Yet her tone gave nothing away. That must have been an actor’s professional discipline at work.

“Let’s… break up.”

Luo Luo used every ounce of her strength to say those words. She didn’t even give Kang Han a chance to respond before hanging up.

She didn’t expect Kang Han to try to stop her, but she waited downstairs for a long time anyway.

No call came. Kang Han didn’t even come down.

At ten-thirty that night, Kang Han’s lights went out right on schedule, just like always.

It was as if the breakup was something utterly insignificant to her—or perhaps, in Kang Han’s heart, they had never truly been dating in the first place?

If it hadn’t really been a relationship, then of course a breakup wouldn’t mean anything.

Back then, her confession hadn’t gotten a response. Everything after that—the way they’d acted like a couple—had been Luo Luo’s one-sided wishful thinking.

“What do you mean, one-sided?”

Le Yiqiu cut Luo Luo off. “She never refused to treat you like a couple. That means she agreed.”

“If she hadn’t agreed but still kept up the flirting and enjoyed all your affection, then she’d be a total scumbag, not worth your feelings.”

“Actually, either way, she’s scum.”

If she’d agreed to date Luo Luo but kept up the cold treatment the whole time, wasn’t that scummy?

And if she hadn’t agreed, then she was just a jerk who wanted the perks of flirting without any responsibility. No way around it—she was no good.

Kang Han was Lin Xianing’s most reliable collaborator, with her striking looks and all-around excellence. Le Yiqiu had thought she was a decent person.

But after hearing her friend’s story, Le Yiqiu could only see Kang Han as a scumbag.

If she wanted to reject her, she should have done it clearly. If not, she should have dated her properly. What was this half-assed nonsense?

Scumbags like that shouldn’t be out hurting people—especially not her good friend. It was intolerable.

“It’s not important anymore. We’ve been broken up for years.”

They’d only dated for half a year, and the breakup had happened three or four years ago. Some things were long in the past.

Luo Luo didn’t know why, but even now, talking about the past still filled her with bitterness and pain.

Wasn’t time supposed to be the best medicine? Why hadn’t it worked for her?

But a breakup was a breakup. They’d been ordinary friends for years now, so there was no point dwelling on it.

Le Yiqiu took a deep breath. “So what’s her deal now?”

She hadn’t treated the relationship right when they were together, hadn’t tried to win her back right after the split, and now she wanted to get back together?

That was too ridiculous. It only made Le Yiqiu even more fed up with Kang Han.

Luo Luo shook her head. “I have no idea what she’s after, but the past is the past. Whatever she’s doing now, it’s too late.”

It had to be too late, right?

Luo Luo forced a smile that looked worse than crying.

In a tone that suggested she’d long since moved on, she said, “Dog Thing, this is the entirety of my romantic history—an unsuccessful pursuit.”

“I was afraid you’d laugh at me, so I kept it from you. Never thought you’d find out anyway. What a humiliating life moment.”

Luo Luo tried to play it off lightly, which only made her seem more heartbreaking.

“Come on, let’s go eat.”

Le Yiqiu didn’t want to say anything more, didn’t want to pass judgment on their relationship.

Her friend was putting on a brave front to keep her from worrying, to avoid sinking back into old sorrows. Fine—she’d play along.

They headed toward their private room. Le Yiqiu was about to push open the door when someone called her name from behind.

“Qiuqiu?”

“Le Yiqiu?”

Only when the voice said her full name did Le Yiqiu turn around.

A flicker of confusion passed through her eyes before she remembered who it was.

She’d done her homework on anyone connected to her, especially those she had even a slightly good rapport with. She’d studied their photos.

Lou Hansong was a fellow student of Teacher Tu Sheng. Le Yiqiu usually addressed her as senior sister.

Lou Hansong was dressed casually in a black hoodie and relaxed pants, radiating energy.

Her hair was styled in a mullet, dyed a soft blue—fresh, stylish, and cool. In her thirties, she still had the face of a kid, and she was undeniably handsome.

She clearly hadn’t expected to run into Le Yiqiu here.

Le Yiqiu rarely went out, so a chance encounter like this was a rarity.

Lou Hansong had heard Le Yiqiu was working on a new script. Her surprise was tinged with relief—finally, she was pulling herself together.

“Senior Sister?”

Even having seen photos, the real thing was a bit different.

Le Yiqiu felt a touch of awkwardness, like bumping into a distant relative over the New Year holidays and having to make small talk.

Lou Hansong, on the other hand, lit up with a delighted smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Eating.” Le Yiqiu gave a polite chuckle.

This was a restaurant, after all. “Are you here to eat too, Senior Sister?”

She’d just asked something pointless—small talk was like that. Everyone knew it was filler, but they had to say it anyway.

“Yeah, my new movie did well in the Spring Festival release. They dragged me here for a low-key celebration.”

Spring Festival releases? Le Yiqiu hadn’t paid attention to any of them.

She’d been staying with the Lin Family lately and hadn’t had time for movies.

Le Yiqiu nodded with a smile. “Congrats, Senior Sister.”

Even if she was clueless about the details, a simple congratulations would do.

Lou Hansong laughed, charmed. “I knew you wouldn’t have a clue.”

“Want to join us for dinner? If you’re shooting a new movie, it doesn’t hurt to network a bit.”

The people dining with Lou Hansong tonight were industry heavyweights—the top figures in this circle, producers and major backers.

Lou Hansong had climbed to her current position as Teacher Tu Sheng’s student; everyone would give her that much face.

Le Yiqiu was Teacher Tu Sheng’s student too, her junior sister. They’d show her some consideration.

When Le Yiqiu’s own movie went into production, things like scheduling would go a lot smoother.

Still, Le Yiqiu just wanted to focus on making movies. She had no interest in these dinner parties.

Besides, Lin Xianing was waiting for her in the private room.

“No thanks, Senior Sister. I have things to do. Enjoy your meal.”

Le Yiqiu had no intention of inviting Lou Hansong to join them—they had their own business to handle.

“Le Yiqiu?”

Just then, Lin Xianing stepped out of the private room.

In truth, after Luo Luo returned to the room, she’d casually remarked as if it were nothing, “Oh, didn’t expect Director Lou to be here too.”

“Director Lou?” Kang Han jumped on it immediately, not letting Luo Luo’s words fall flat.

“Yeah, she’s out there talking to Le Yiqiu.”

Luo Luo seemed to be answering Kang Han, but her eyes were fixed on Lin Xianing. Those in the know got the hint.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” Lin Xianing left those words behind and headed out.

Luo Luo flashed a knowing smile and followed along to watch the drama unfold.

She didn’t notice the fond look in Kang Han’s eyes watching her go. Even if she had, she wouldn’t have cared. As she’d said, it was all in the past.

Lin Xianing’s sudden appearance made Lou Hansong’s smile freeze on her face.

Everyone present—except Kang Han—knew about the spectacle Lou Hansong had made back when she’d pursued Le Yiqiu.

During their school days, she’d made it known to the entire campus. In the post-credits scene of her very first movie, she’d even included a public confession to Le Yiqiu.

It was hard to say if it had been overly romantic or just too flashy.

Either way, Le Yiqiu hadn’t accepted. If she didn’t like someone, no grand gesture would change that.

Still, they had their senior-junior sister connection, so they kept in touch now and then. That was why Lin Xianing had hurried out.