A Love Letter Written to You - Chapter 26

Chapter 26

 

The first teaser video of Our Life: Friends Season stirred up a springtime frenzy. Director Pan received far better engagement data than expected. The already-high subscription numbers on the show’s special page soared even higher.

 

Though the online buzz was deafening, none of it reached Leng Ying and Ji Yu.

 

Ji Yu was currently showing off a guitar video she had filmed. “I think this one’s perfect~ Let’s post it tomorrow!”

 

The guitar pick in Leng Ying’s hand was handmade, and the guitar itself had been personally maintained by her… Ji Yu thought it was the perfect match. It looked plain at first glance, but if you looked deeper, it was full of small, beautiful surprises.

 

Leng Ying gently touched Ji Yu’s hair—those flamboyant golden strands always felt especially soft in her palm.

 

The melody was inexplicably tender, like golden sunlight and slowly melting snow. Leng Ying watched the video until it looped back to the beginning.

 

“Mm, let’s go with this one,” Leng Ying affirmed. “It’s shot very well.”

 

Time, a guitar, and the person playing it.

 

In that tiny vertical frame, nothing felt crowded at all.

 

Ji Yu beamed. “I’ll send it to you!”

 

Leng Ying smiled. “Just post it in our group chat.”

 

Meeting Ji Yu’s gaze, she added seriously, “I usually try to respect Sister Qun’s opinion.”

 

Ji Yu laughed and replied, “Okay, okay, okay.”

 

With a quick flick of her finger, she sent the video into their three-person group chat.

 

Sister Qun reviewed it carefully—it was clear someone had helped film it, but Ji Yu’s voice and image didn’t appear at all. She was perfectly hidden.

 

Her final verdict: This one. Schedule it for tomorrow.

 

It would serve as both a rare fan update and a coordinated promo for the show. When the official announcement dropped, the program’s account would retweet Leng Ying’s post… but not Ji Yu’s.

 

Ji Yu had chosen to maintain a mysterious persona on Weibo, and Leng Ying fully respected that. Though she had a strong hunch that Ji Yu was secretly following her with a burner account.

 

Once the video was locked in, the two of them sat shoulder-to-shoulder on the carpet. Ji Yu watched as Leng Ying downloaded the video, logged into Weibo, typed out a caption, and scheduled the post.

 

“Done.” Leng Ying turned off her phone, waved it at her, then tossed it aside. “All set.”

 

Ji Yu looked calm. “I’m a little nervous.”

 

Leng Ying paused and studied her for a second. “It’s okay.” She added softly, “Just don’t smile when you’re nervous—no one can tell that way.”

 

When she wasn’t speaking or smiling, Ji Yu’s expression could be surprisingly unreadable.

 

Ji Yu burst out laughing. “Oh.”

 

As she laughed, her shoulders shook slightly, and the strands of her hair shifted where they brushed against Leng Ying’s hand.

 

Leng Ying didn’t say anything—then struck at the perfect moment—

 

She pinched Ji Yu’s cheeks.

 

Gently squeezed them.

 

Ji Yu: “?”

 

A puppy doesn’t hold grudges.

 

But if you want to play with the puppy, it’ll pounce with glee!

 

Ji Yu retaliated instantly—

 

“Wow! You ambushed me!”

 

“I did not.”

 

“You did, you did! Let me pinch back.”

 

“Uh-oh, Sister Qun’s here.”

 

“What?”

 

“Ha! Fooled you again!”

 

“Why do I fall for it every time?”

 

“Because I believe everything you say!”

 

The sun slowly shifted across the sky.

 

…

 

The Day Before Official Filming

 

Fans concerned about Leng Ying had long been commenting under her last Weibo post—one that was quite old by now—asking if she really was joining Our Life: Friends Season. They were used to her not replying to comments, but they still wanted to express their feelings.

 

They kept refreshing Leng Ying’s Weibo homepage.

 

…Then a miracle happened: a new post appeared.

 

And it wasn’t to promote a new song!

 

It wasn’t to promote a new song!!

 

It was…

 

An excited fan clicked in.

 

It was a video of Leng Ying playing guitar, filmed from someone else’s point of view.

 

The melody in the video had never appeared in any of her released works.

 

“Is this a teaser for a new song? Did the studio change their promo style?”

 

“No more cold, impersonal text promos. Instead, we get to see Ying herself onscreen… even if it’s just a bit… I’m touched.”

 

“Such a warm and happy tune. Did something good happen recently? As a mom-fan, I just want you to be happy—nothing else matters. So if you really are going on a variety show… I’ll support your decision.”

 

“You. Me. This. Why’d you have to bring that up?”

 

“You dare say it’s not her?”

 

Fans who frequently interacted under Leng Ying’s Weibo were already familiar with each other. They immediately started chatting under Leng Ying’s latest post.

 

“…I don’t dare.”

 

“Exactly. Even though I also feel Leng Ying wouldn’t go, what if it really is her? I think having the chance to step out of the shadows is a great thing. As a ‘mom fan,’ I want to encourage, not suppress, her enthusiasm.”

 

“You’re killing me, sis. But you make sense. From another angle, any friend our Ying Ying makes must be worth keeping. And a friend who can get her to go on a show? That’s a rare gem. Let’s trust Ying Ying’s judgment.”

 

“Let’s not be too possessive about someone else’s life. Instead, think about this: if it really is Ying Ying, and the livestream gains a lot of traffic, how are we going to fight the haters and paid trolls…? There’s bound to be some. It’d be weirder if there weren’t.”

 

“The studio will push back, but their capacity is limited. Let’s all be cautious with our words.”

 

“Why are you all assuming she’s definitely going?”

 

“‘Dog head.jpg’ A few actresses have posted strange photos and videos lately.”

 

“It’s hard not to overthink it.”

 

“Tomorrow at noon we’ll know for sure. The studio is really too chill.”

 

“She made her own choices.”

 

The manager’s sharp gaze was locked onto Ren Meng’s phone like an eagle.

 

Annoyed, Ren Meng exited Weibo. “I’m done scrolling.”

 

“I never said you couldn’t check Weibo,” the manager said. “I just want to remind you—use your alt account. If you ‘slip up,’ make sure it’s your alt, not your main.”

 

“Mm.” Ren Meng replied flatly. “Anything else?”

 

“You’re recording tomorrow. I looked through your suitcase and made a few adjustments—” The manager ignored her expression. “I got a rough idea of the first recording location from the production team. Based on the season, I swapped out some of the clothes in your suitcase.”

 

“Just letting you know now, so if you find something extra or missing tomorrow, don’t be surprised,” the manager added. “The new marketing strategy is ready too. Take a look.”

 

“Does my opinion even matter?” Ren Meng asked mockingly. “Hard to see how you’re respecting me.”

 

“Now that’s just hurtful,” the manager said blandly. “If you pack the wrong clothes, you’ll be the one suffering.”

 

Ren Meng gave a soft snort and glanced at the marketing plan before tossing it aside. “You’re the one who said it’s about ‘reuniting with an old friend.’”

 

“Exactly,” the manager replied. “I went through a lot to get her to agree to be on your show. If we don’t milk the traffic from that, wouldn’t it be a waste?”

 

Satisfied, the manager added, “That autograph you posted today was a great choice. One from years ago, one from now—completely different handwriting. Naive and youthful versus mature. It’s the perfect way to get fans reminiscing.”

 

Because she was satisfied, she allowed Ren Meng to post the Weibo.

 

Ren Meng didn’t want to talk anymore. She leaned back against the couch. “Mm.”

 

The manager droned on for a few more minutes about things to watch for during filming.

 

Ren Meng, drawing on her full acting skills, zoned out but kept a serious expression. Once the manager felt she’d said enough, she finally got up and left the room, taking the marketing materials with her.

 

“…”

 

Sometimes it really was too exhausting. She couldn’t summon the energy to resist—or to comply.

 

Ren Meng picked up the phone she had tossed aside earlier and switched to her alt account.

 

Discussions about “Our Life: Friends Edition” were everywhere—marketing accounts hyping it up, all kinds of speculation about the guest lineup. She was one of the hottest guesses.

 

Under her main account, the comments flooded in like a tidal wave.

 

She felt nothing but tired.

 

As expected, her alt life needed to stay separate from her main.

 

Ren Meng let out a long breath and opened the Super Topic follow list on that account.

 

Her alt account only followed one Super Topic.

 

That topic had been quiet for a long time.

 

But ever since yesterday’s Friends Edition teaser video dropped, it had begun to see a trickle of posts.

 

Now she could even get two or three replies per post.

 

—Even her most recent “Happy New Year” post in that topic had gotten a like.

 

The show felt like someone had pressed a sudden pause button—bringing an end to a long, silent cold war.

 

It seemed like a good thing.

 

But… was it really?

 

Ren Meng counted on her fingers.

 

Her contract still had ten years left.

 

When she was young and naive, she had signed it with one big flourish, sealing her future.

 

Back then, she never imagined today’s version of herself would just want to escape.

 

But life…

 

Life is full of uncertainty.

 

In the corner, the record player began playing a song.

 

The familiar voice—her own.

 

It was her favorite song from the past few years.

 

Lyrics by Leng Ying.