A Love Letter Written to You - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The next day, the first day of the Lunar New Year.

Leng Ying’s cozy home welcomed an unexpected visitor—

Compared to how the internet perceived Leng Ying, this uninvited guest could barely be considered an acquaintance to her household, someone who dropped by every now and then.

“Qun-jie,” Leng Ying called out from the sofa, cradling a tablet in her hands. She didn’t get up to greet the visitor and only said, “Help yourself to some tea or water.”

Qun-jie changed into disposable shoe covers and placed the Lunar New Year gifts she had brought at the entrance. Smiling, she said, “I’m here to wish you a happy new year. Hope our work goes smoothly this year too.”

“It will,” Leng Ying replied absentmindedly, her eyes still fixed on the tablet.

Qun-jie stepped closer, curious. “What are you looking at?”

Leng Ying looked up briefly, her lashes fluttering lightly. “Nothing much. Just browsing sofas.”

“Oh?” Qun-jie was even more curious. “Didn’t you used to say a single-seat sofa was perfect? The one you’re sitting on now is that limited-edition collab piece I helped you find.”

Leng Ying gave a soft chuckle. “Exactly. This one can be left for guests.”

The comment had a deeper meaning. Qun-jie thought she picked up on something, but when she studied Leng Ying’s expression, it seemed like she might’ve imagined it. Pushing the vague suspicion aside, she said, “I actually came for work.”

“…On the first day of the New Year?”

“I’m a workaholic,” Qun-jie said matter-of-factly. “You just realizing that now?”

Leng Ying was momentarily speechless. “No.”

She had considered that point when she chose Qun-jie as her agent… Well, this was the manager she had picked herself.

Leng Ying waved her hand. “I sent you the new song.”

“Still selling it?” Qun-jie sounded regretful. “You wrote it. You’re the best person to sing it.”

At first, Leng Ying only sold her lyrics. Later, she started selling the compositions too. Qun-jie had heard her demo vocals and felt that no one else could ever do the song justice.

“I don’t care,” Leng Ying said casually. “I don’t want to be in the spotlight.”

The spotlight might be dazzling and full of admirers, but it also came with thunder and storms. Leng Ying had once experienced that surreal feeling of being isolated in a crowd, and once was enough.

“Besides…” she scoffed lightly. “Even when I stay off the stage, people still sniff me out.”

Qun-jie laughed awkwardly. “Speaking of which, Ren Meng’s manager apologized to me last night… said Ren Meng didn’t mean any harm. Who knew that little dance routine would hit the trending charts? I didn’t reply. What’s there to say? You’re not planning to work with her anymore anyway.”

“Paying for lyrics isn’t ‘working together,’ is it?” Leng Ying dismissed the idea. “She just happened to offer a decent price.”

“Alright, let me rephrase,” Qun-jie said tactfully. “You’re not planning to sell songs to her again.”

Leng Ying hummed softly in agreement.

“Fair enough. Your work isn’t short on buyers who know quality.”

Sunlight filtered through the window, casting a golden glow on Leng Ying’s dark hair. After finishing her conversation, she lowered her head and returned to her tablet.

Qun-jie looked at her silently, a complex feeling rising in her heart—like a proud parent watching a daughter grow up. Getting this job had been harder than expected, but in some ways, also easier.

She recalled the moment she’d heard Leng Ying was seeking a new manager—she’d been thrilled. After years in the industry managing lackluster talents or stars who eventually jumped ship, she saw Leng Ying as a dream client: well-connected, resource-rich, and unlikely to switch agents easily.

She hadn’t hesitated to submit her resume.

But the recruitment process turned out to be surprisingly straightforward. Everyone answered the same questions on video, and Leng Ying personally interviewed six people. In the end, she chose Qun-jie.

Only after starting the job did Qun-jie realize there was no such thing as “easy resources.” Yes, Leng Ying had backing, but she refused to exploit it. That’s why she sought an external agent.

To Qun-jie, a good employer was like a rare steed finding its true rider. She didn’t care about Leng Ying’s background—she herself was someone who enjoyed paving her own path. As long as her partner wasn’t someone who’d take the gains and run.

Fortunately, Leng Ying turned out to be just as reliable as she had judged.

From eighteen to twenty-three, they’d worked together for five years.

Qun-jie’s voice softened. “Have you decided on a sofa yet?”

Leng Ying tapped on her screen. “Perfect timing, help me choose. I just sent you five options on WeChat.”

Settling into the single-seater beside her, Qun-jie opened her phone. Sure enough, all of Leng Ying’s picks were at least three-seaters.

She glanced around the living room, then teased, “There’s definitely space for a bigger couch. I thought maybe you just wanted a new one for yourself… but now I’m not so sure. Someone moving in?”

“Mm. A friend is returning to the country,” Leng Ying admitted without hesitation.

A friend coming back…

Qun-jie only knew of one friend Leng Ying had abroad. “The one who gave you that necklace for your coming-of-age gift?”

From what she’d observed, Leng Ying often messaged this friend and even video called them once—though Leng Ying had hung up before she could see the friend’s face.

When Ren Meng started using butterfly imagery for clout, Leng Ying publicly clarified that the necklace was a unique coming-of-age gift from a long-time friend. Only one existed.

That friend remained a mystery online, despite countless rumors. At first, Ren Meng feigned ignorance. But the second, third, and subsequent times—it was clearly intentional clout-chasing.

Seeing Leng Ying smile, Qun-jie knew she’d guessed right. “So your mysterious friend is finally coming back. Are you going to introduce us?”

Leng Ying didn’t immediately catch the implication.

Qun-jie added, “I’m your manager, and she’s a close enough friend to live with you. Shouldn’t I at least meet her… briefly?”

In five years, Qun-jie had never seen Leng Ying treat anyone else this specially.

Leng Ying was silent for a moment, then seemed to realize what Qun-jie was implying. She laughed in disbelief and quickly denied it, “We’re just friends.”

Her denial was sharp and immediate, like a cat whose sore spot had been touched. Her amber eyes, shadowed in the light, were wide with indignation as she rejected the idea.

“…” Qun-jie was surprised. It was rare to see this kind of defensiveness from Leng Ying. Her reaction was so extreme—it felt more like confirmation than denial.

If it wasn’t true, why react so strongly?

Still, she knew when to back off. “Alright then. We’ve worked together for five years. She’s someone close to you. Now that she’s coming back, wouldn’t it make sense for her to get to know your work a little?”

Leng Ying thought for a moment and, following her instincts, said, “Yes.”

She paused, then added, “Okay, you’ll meet her. Once she’s back.”

Qun-jie nodded. “How many days?”

“Three or four… Now help me with the sofa choices?” Leng Ying asked, changing the topic.

Qun-jie, with her experience, was a great person to ask.

She picked two options, explaining the pros and cons of each, and left the final decision to Leng Ying.

Leng Ying ultimately chose the wider, warmer-toned one, placed the order, and scheduled delivery after the holidays.

Having picked the sofa, she suddenly felt other things were out of place too and opened her memo app to list everything she wanted to replace.

Qun-jie clicked her tongue. “Feels like you’re moving into a whole new home.”

Still claiming they’re just friends?

She shook her head inwardly.

She’d never go to this extent for a regular friend. Even for a lover, there had to be mutual respect for each other’s preferences.

Hearing her remark, Leng Ying said lightly, “I’ve lived here for five years. Got tired of the old look. Might as well treat it like a new home, look for fresh inspiration.”

That was the kind of talk Qun-jie liked. She beamed. “Perfect.”

Leng Ying nodded toward the gift bag next to the chair. “I knew you’d visit for New Year’s, so I prepared a gift for you too.”

“Thanks, I’ll gladly take it,” Qun-jie said as she picked up the bag. “Time’s about right. I’ll head off now. Let’s have a meal soon — or I’ll wait to hear that your new song sold.”

Leng Ying gave an “OK” sign and didn’t get up to see her out. “Sure.”

After she left, the room grew quiet again.

But the silence didn’t last—it vanished as quickly as it came, like an illusion.

Leng Ying’s phone rang.

“Yingying.”

It was Ji Yu calling.

“Good morning~”

She turned the camera to the window. Sunlight glittered off the buildings, golden and soft. The morning sun rose slowly into the sky, reflected in the glass.

Even Ji Yu’s hair caught the light.

Her dark pupils shimmered with a golden glow.

On the other side of the ocean, it was sunrise.

Leng Ying smiled unconsciously and replied, “Good morning.”

“I’m so happy it’s one day closer to coming home,” Ji Yu said, crawling out of bed and kneeling on her fluffy comforter. After their morning greeting, she disappeared from the screen.

She’d gone to wash up.

The camera stayed pointed toward the golden ripples outside her window, gently shimmering.