I Am the White Moonlight that the Former Movie Queen Secretly Loves - Chapter 23

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

Qin Xiaofang tilted her chin toward the two figures approaching from ahead.

Instinctively, she shifted her large frame an inch in front of Qi Sijia, blocking the faint but unmistakable gaze from Fu Chuchu’s direction. Lowering her voice, she asked Qi Sijia, “Still need me to cover for you?”

It was too late—they were almost here. No point blocking now.

Without a word, Qi Sijia pulled a bottle of heart-relief pills from her pocket and tossed it to Qin Xiaofang. Calmly, she instructed, “If I react later, remember to give me two.”

Severe social anxiety in the face of intense attention could trigger symptoms like panic, sweating, palpitations, chest tightness, and arrhythmia.

Two years ago, Qi Sijia had experienced an episode—at Ji Liu’s book signing event.

Even fully armed, she had still succumbed.

That scene remained vivid in Qin Xiaofang’s memory.

“Hey, come on, it won’t be that bad.”

“What if Second Miss Ye doesn’t even come over?”

“Rumor has it that young masters and ladies from wealthy families usually keep their distance. They might not stoop to bothering you.”

Qi Sijia thought to herself, Who knows what’s gotten into Ye Qianqian?

After years of friendship, she knew Ye Qianqian inside out—she was no saint.

Yet here she was, patiently accompanying Fu Chuchu and enduring the endless stream of classmates vying for attention. It was downright bizarre.

As she mulled it over, Qin Xiaofang suddenly nudged her elbow, signaling with her eyes for Qi Sijia to look.

Up ahead, Fu Chuchu, arm-in-arm with her girlfriend, had barely taken two steps toward Qi Sijia when Li Ang intercepted them.

“Miss Ye, what an honor. The last time we met was at the jewelry exhibition—I wonder if you still remember?”

Fu Chuchu, of course, had no recollection. She smiled politely. “And you are?”

“Li Ang, host of Happy Sundays on Fruit TV. A pleasure to meet you.”

Li Ang’s face was plastered with a grin. Despite Ye Qianqian’s indifferent expression, he still managed a gentlemanly bow, extending his hand for a shake.

His eagerness was a stark contrast to the commanding presence he had exuded moments earlier among their classmates.

This world preached equality, but the truth was, human social interactions were like stacking pyramids. No matter the era, people instinctively stratified into circles, and within each circle, hierarchies inevitably formed.

Just as Li Ang had been the standout among their peers, in the presence of Ye Qianqian and Meng Jiang, his status suddenly seemed insignificant, forcing him to grovel for attention.

But what Li Ang didn’t know was that in this very private room, Ye Qianqian herself was also treading carefully, eager to curry favor with someone else.

The Ye family had spent years trying to break into the elite circles of Beicheng. For Ye Qianqian, forging a connection with Meng Jiang would be the ultimate payoff for all her recent social maneuvering.

Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that her newly acquired celebrity fling would hand her this opportunity.

Though she had little patience for dealing with Ye Qianqian’s classmates, Meng Jiang’s presence alone made them valuable connections.

Ye Qianqian was accustomed to assessing everyone’s relationships before making a move.

Unable to discern who was close to Meng Jiang and who wasn’t, she had no choice but to endure Li Ang’s advances.

Her facade of gentleness and approachability emboldened the hesitant classmates, who surged forward once again.

Ye Qianqian’s expression darkened visibly. Her lips pressed into a thin line as the endless stream of classmates encroached on her time—time she had hoped to spend reconnecting with Meng Jiang.

After perfunctorily dealing with a few people, she glanced sideways at Fu Chuchu, silently urging her to quickly shoo away the assorted classmates.

But unfortunately, Fu Chuchu was here today to humiliate someone.

First, to humiliate Qi Sijia.

Second, since Meng Jiang happened to be here as well, Fu Chuchu’s lifelong dream was to stride up to Meng Jiang in all her glory and ask her if she regretted choosing Qi Sijia over her back in the day, now that she had become so outstanding.

The only thing she hadn’t anticipated was that her sugar daddy girlfriend knew Meng Jiang—though that wasn’t entirely surprising, given that Meng Jiang was now a triple-crown film queen in the entertainment industry. But compared to real old money, even an A-list actress could only linger on the periphery.

Fu Chuchu’s schemes were clattering along flawlessly in her mind, completely oblivious to the growing displeasure on her sugar daddy girlfriend’s face.

From across the long row of rectangular cocktail tables, Qi Sijia could clearly see the impatience flickering in Ye Qianqian’s narrowed eyes. Yet, despite this, Ye Qianqian remained uncharacteristically planted at Fu Chuchu’s side.

What did that mean?

Qi Sijia clicked her tongue inwardly—Ye Qianqian was genuinely serious this time.

Which meant Fu Chuchu would inevitably drag her over to expose Qi Sijia’s past.

Running into Ye Qianqian wasn’t something to worry about on its own.

But after years of friendship, Qi Sijia knew all too well what kind of person Ye Qianqian was.

Given Ye Qianqian’s eagerness to drag her back home at the first opportunity, the aftermath of this gathering would likely see all attention shift onto Qi Sijia.

For example, as the eldest daughter of the Qi family, she had incoherently told her classmates that she had always lived in an old urban tenement and worked as a janitor.

Even though it was the truth, no one would dare believe it.

Qi Sijia could already picture the scene that awaited her.

Or, for instance, after tonight, Ye Qianqian—true to her nature—would frequently rope her into social gatherings. If Qi Sijia could calmly attend a class reunion tonight, what excuse could she possibly use to refuse Ye Qianqian’s invitations? Especially since the latter had been personally tasked by Qi Jun to pull her back into their social circle.

Qi Sijia rubbed her temples in frustration and tugged at Qin Xiaofang’s sleeve. “I’m leaving. Can you cover for me and help me slip past them?”

The private room spanned about two hundred square meters, but there was only one path to the exit.

Fu Chuchu and her girlfriend were conveniently blocking the middle of that path. Qin Xiaofang mentally mapped out an escape route for Qi Sijia before shaking her head.

“No can do. You’ll just have to hope her girlfriend doesn’t want to come over.”

“Earlier, I saw Fu Chuchu order her assistant to fetch wine—cases of Lafite, supposedly ‘for you.’” Qin Xiaofang scoffed. “She’s clearly gunning for you.”

Qi Sijia smirked. “If I insist on leaving, she doesn’t have the power to stop me.”

“She won’t do anything overt, sure. But don’t forget—Fu Chuchu is a public figure, and the media is always chasing her scandals. With her girlfriend here tonight, and given that woman’s status, if you force your way out, you’ll be slapping her girlfriend in the face. How likely do you think it is that this gets reported?”

Leaning in close, Qin Xiaofang lowered her voice. “Li Ang is no fool, right? He’s fawning over that Miss Ye even more than he did over Meng Jiang. Why do you think that is? Among Ningcheng’s elite socialites, how many young women surnamed Ye, around that age, and openly into women do you think there are?”

Qin Xiaofang ticked off her fingers, all but spelling out Ye Qianqian’s identity.

“If someone of that stature decides to make trouble for you—”

“She won’t,” Qi Sijia said.

Qin Xiaofang snorted dismissively and opened her mouth to argue further.

Suddenly, a chill ran down her spine. Instinctively turning around, she locked eyes with Meng Jiang’s cool, dark gaze, who then gave Qin Xiaofang a brief glance.

Qin Xiaofang reflexively moved her head away, putting some distance between herself and Qi Sijia, and only then did the icy sensation on her back fade.

“Totally forgot my goddess is sitting right behind me,” Qin Xiaofang muttered under her breath. Then, as if struck by a sudden realization, she slapped her thigh and stood up. “Wait! Isn’t Meng Jiang right here?”

Qi Sijia had severe social anxiety. Under the scrutiny of a crowd, there was no telling whether she might have a panic attack when all eyes were on her.

Right now, she couldn’t leave, nor could she handle the approaching Fu Chuchu and her companion, who clearly had ill intentions.

Meng Jiang, on the other hand, was worldly and experienced. Plus, it seemed that the wealthy Miss Ye knew Meng Jiang—at the very least, she could lend a hand.

With that thought, Qin Xiaofang pulled Qi Sijia up from her slump.

“Let’s ask for help.”

Before Qi Sijia could respond, Qin Xiaofang grabbed her arm and nudged her toward the sofa where Meng Jiang was seated.

“What are you doing?” Qi Sijia asked.

Qin Xiaofang frantically signaled with her eyes. “Trust me on this. Meng Jiang can definitely help. Just be polite later.”

Qi Sijia’s face remained impassive: “…”

Her entire body screamed resistance, her eyes shooting back a silent refusal.

Qin Xiaofang, oblivious to the silent protest, blinked and, using her shorter stature and brute strength, shamelessly pushed Qi Sijia toward Meng Jiang’s seat.

At the same time, she craned her neck over Qi Sijia’s shoulder and called out, “Goddess, mind if we join you?”

Meng Jiang leisurely looked up, her gaze first landing on Qi Sijia.

Then, unhurriedly, she set down her champagne-filled glass, retracted her long, slender legs, and made space for them to pass.

“Not at all.”

Qin Xiaofang beamed. “You’re so kind.”

Meng Jiang smiled faintly, calmly accepting the “nice person” label, and asked, “Is there something you need?”

“We were hoping you could help us with something.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Qin Xiaofang realized she couldn’t budge Qi Sijia anymore.

The two of them were locked in a silent tug-of-war, Qi Sijia standing stubbornly in place by the aisle.

Qin Xiaofang shot Meng Jiang an apologetic smile before turning back to glare pointedly at Qi Sijia.

The dim overhead lights cast a pale glow, the reflection from the white tiles shimmering in Qi Sijia’s eyes.

She squinted slightly, then abruptly pulled her arm free from Qin Xiaofang’s grip.

Unaccustomed to refusing others, Qi Sijia spoke slowly, “I don’t need help. Let’s not bother anyone.”

Qin Xiaofang frowned. “What do you mean you don’t need help? We’re already here. Even if you don’t, you should at least say hello, right?”

Qi Sijia: “…”

With things having gone this far, refusing further would be outright rude. Qi Sijia took a deep breath, resigned, and steeled herself against her inner resistance.

Turning to Meng Jiang, she tried to figure out how to explain Qin Xiaofang’s impulsive plea for assistance.

But before she could speak, Meng Jiang looked up, her gaze drifting casually over Qi Sijia as she said amiably, “Come sit, then.”

Meng Jiang showed no trace of surprise, as if she hadn’t heard Qi Sijia’s earlier words at all.

It was almost as though she was unaware of the confrontation between Qi Sijia and Fu Chuchu just minutes ago.

The events from five years ago had been dredged up right in front of the people involved. Qi Sijia’s calm exterior belied the turmoil beneath.

But before she could even process it, she was thrown into another absurd encounter.

Without thinking, Qi Sijia instinctively stepped back, her guard up.

As the lights dimmed further, Qi Sijia saw Meng Jiang avert her gaze, flex her fingers slightly, and place a pastel-colored cigarette case on the table.

She couldn’t remember when she had picked up smoking, but now she could effortlessly pull out a cigarette and hold it between her fingers with practiced ease, as if she were a seasoned smoker who had been through countless battles.

The dim, uneven lighting cast shadows across her face, stripping away the usual glamour and poise, leaving behind an aura of languid femininity.

For some reason, Qi Sijia fell silent, swallowing back the sharp words that had been on the tip of her tongue.

“Qi Sijia.” Meng Jiang leaned back on the sofa, tucking a strand of her waist-length wavy hair behind her ear with her pinky. Her gaze locked onto Qi Sijia’s, her expression indifferent as she said, “Come here and talk.”

“No need—”

Suddenly, with a flick of her fingers, the unlit cigarette flipped backward into the ashtray.

A smile returned to Meng Jiang’s face as she said, “I’m not used to people talking down to me.”

Her tone had lost all traces of the earlier patience and warmth. Just like their first meeting, despite Meng Jiang’s polished manners and social finesse, no one could overlook the fact that she was a woman of strong opinions and unyielding pride.

Unlike Qi Sijia, whose cold exterior masked a warm but socially anxious heart, Meng Jiang carried an innate sense of distance in her bones.

Their eyes met again in the air, neither speaking immediately—a silent standoff.

Then, in the next second, taking advantage of Qi Sijia’s distraction, Qin Xiaofang yanked her forward and shoved her onto the sofa, squeezing herself into the innermost seat.

Trapped in the middle, Qi Sijia had no escape. Qin Xiaofang had gone all out to block her in.

Unable to tolerate it any longer, Qi Sijia frowned. “Can you move further in?”

Qin Xiaofang pretended to be blind, spreading her hands innocently. “No space left.”

What could a socially anxious person do against a shameless rogue? Qi Sijia had no retort.

Her face icy, she crossed her arms to avoid brushing against Meng Jiang’s slender, warm forearm.

Perhaps emboldened by Qin Xiaofang’s successful approach to Meng Jiang, a few classmates from earlier came over and boldly took the seat Qi Sijia had just vacated.

With too many ears around, conversation was difficult. Qin Xiaofang pulled out her phone and created a temporary three-person group chat, gesturing for Meng Jiang to join.

What’s up? Meng Jiang lifted her arm, brushing against the sleeve of Qi Sijia’s white shirt as she leisurely typed.

Qi Sijia shot her a sidelong glance, but Meng Jiang remained absorbed in her phone, utterly unbothered.

So… she hadn’t even noticed the fabric grazing against her. The hypersensitivity had been entirely one-sided.

In the group chat, Qin Xiaofang tagged Qi Sijia: Jiajia, you explain.

Qi Sijia: Explain what.

Qin Xiaofang: …

Stop messing around. What if that Miss Ye teams up with Fu Chuchu to give you trouble?

Qi Sijia lowered her narrow eyes: I told you, she wouldn’t dare.

Qin Xiaofang: … Bullshit. You’re hopeless. Fine, I’ll do it.

Jiangjiang, I want to ask you about someone—do you know Fu Chuchu’s girlfriend?

Meng Jiang: I do.

Qin Xiaofang pressed: Are you friends with her? Earlier, I heard her call you ‘Sister Jiang.’

Meng Jiang lifted her gaze toward the two figures approaching.

Given her status, she and Second Miss Ye moved in entirely different circles.

If Ye Qianqian was someone who held sway in Ningcheng’s elite socialite scene, Meng Jiang—beyond her identity as an award-winning actress—represented capital interests. She no longer belonged to the socialite sphere but operated within the capital circles of Beijing’s high society.

“If everyone I’ve interacted with in social situations could be called a friend, then I must have quite a few—enough to fill Costa Rica. Miss Ye Er would probably be one of them. Why bring her up all of a sudden?”

Meng Jiang seemed in no hurry to offer a solution, typing slowly as if feigning ignorance. The message hadn’t even been sent yet.

Meanwhile, Qin Xiaofang’s reply had already popped up.

“Because Fu Chuchu is clearly up to no good tonight, and I’m worried she and her girlfriend might gang up on Qi Sijia.”

By this point, the group chat had already piled up with messages.

After reading them, Qi Sijia belatedly realized that Qin Xiaofang had sought Meng Jiang’s help out of concern that Ye Qianqian might use her influence to pressure her.

Both exasperated and amused, she typed: “Can I say something?”

“Go ahead.”

Her slender fingers tapped swiftly across the screen. Qi Sijia had momentarily overlooked the misunderstanding—Qin Xiaofang had mistaken her reason for avoiding Ye Qianqian.

Now, sitting awkwardly beside Meng Jiang, her arm stiffened, careful not to brush against her.

“Earlier, I asked you to cover for me.”

“I know,” Qin Xiaofang replied. “To block Fu Chuchu, right?”

Qi Sijia: “No.”

“I asked you to block Ye Qianqian.”

Qin Xiaofang: “Who’s Ye Qianqian?”

Meng Jiang: “Miss Ye Er.”

Qin Xiaofang nearly fell off the couch in shock.

Abandoning her phone, she turned to stare at Qi Sijia.

“Explain.”

What she’d assumed was just typical school drama now seemed poised to unfold into some messy romantic saga, given Qi Sijia’s earlier evasiveness.

“What’s your relationship with her?”

Feeling Meng Jiang’s gaze shift toward her as well, Qi Sijia narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to respond—

But before she could speak, the lights dimmed abruptly in front of them.

Looking up, Qi Sijia saw two figures rounding the long coffee table.

It was Ye Qianqian and her meddlesome girlfriend, about to expose her past.

Qin Xiaofang quickly cut off the conversation, shaking her phone at Qi Sijia and Meng Jiang with a meaningful glance—improvise as needed, keep the chat going.

Qi Sijia stayed silent. Whether Meng Jiang agreed or not was another matter.

Meanwhile, Fu Chuchu had already prepared the drinks, the waiter arranging them across the gilded tabletop before stepping aside with a bow.

Fu Chuchu lifted her chin, her pretty face adorned with a saccharine smile.

Glass in hand, she strode over to where the trio sat, stopping in the aisle. The dim lighting obscured Qi Sijia, who sat between the other two with her head bowed, inconspicuous. Meng Jiang occupied the outermost seat.

Fu Chuchu linked arms with Ye Qianqian, pulling her toward Meng Jiang.

Her lips curled into a flawlessly calculated smile.

“Meng Jiang, long time no see. These years, I’ve only been able to catch you on the big screen. Five years apart, and you haven’t aged a bit.”

Meng Jiang barely reacted.

Fu Chuchu bent to pick up a glass of red wine from the table, offering it to her.

A driver stepped forward from behind her, intercepting the glass and placing it back on the table.

From start to finish, the drink never touched Meng Jiang’s hand—a clear refusal to accept an unverified offering.

Fu Chuchu’s face burned. Her arm hung mid-air, fingers clenching into a fist.

Struggling to maintain composure, she inhaled sharply before turning back to Ye Qianqian, her expression carefully controlled.

Sticking it on:

“Wife, even though you know her, I still want to formally introduce you. Meng Jiang—Ning University’s most accomplished, brilliant, elegant, and beautiful campus queen of all time. Back then, before she even graduated, she was practically on the verge of helping our drama club set up an entertainment company. If not for—”

Fu Chuchu abruptly shifted her tone, casting a sidelong glance at the woman sitting next to Meng Jiang. A faint, disdainful smirk played on her lips before she cut herself off and continued introducing Ye Qianqian to Meng Jiang.

“This is my girlfriend. She’s almost as beautiful as you—just a little less so—but she treats me well. She graduated from MIT, and her status is extraordinary. You two should know each other.”

When Meng Jiang didn’t respond, Fu Chuchu paused before adding, “You can call her Miss Ye.”

The condescension in her words was blatant, dripping with superiority, clearly meant to flaunt and belittle.

Qi Sijia understood it all. After a moment’s thought, she glanced sideways at Meng Jiang, who merely curled her lips, refusing to engage with Fu Chuchu’s remarks.

It was as if she didn’t even consider the latter worth her time.

Calmly swirling the clear liquor in her wine glass, Meng Jiang’s gaze settled on Ye Qianqian, her tone laced with a hint of languid amusement.

“Miss Ye the Second, when did you switch people again?”

Those familiar with Meng Jiang’s speech knew she rarely put on airs.

But when she did, it meant the person before her wasn’t worth her respect.

Ye Qianqian finally saw the truth—Fu Chuchu’s claims of being close friends with Meng Jiang were nothing but empty words.

She had already been simmering with dissatisfaction toward Fu Chuchu all day, but for Meng Jiang’s sake, she had planned to endure it a little longer. However, given this awkward situation, there was no need anymore.

She stepped right past Fu Chuchu, flattered and eager to smooth things over.

“Jiang-jie, you should just call me Xiao Ye. How could I let you call me ‘Miss’ in front of you?”

“My girlfriend doesn’t know any better, but you can’t blame her temper on me. I’ll bring her to you another day so you can teach her properly.”

Her words carried the lightness of a joke, an attempt to brush past the tension.

Truth be told, Ye Qianqian had mastered about eighty percent of the social graces in their circle.

But Meng Jiang wasn’t having it. Holding her wine glass, she smiled faintly, though her eyes remained unamused.

“Your people are your responsibility. Why bring them to me for lessons? Maybe she’s just in a bad mood because it’s that time of the month—understandable. But surely she couldn’t have turned so ill-mannered in the ten minutes since I sat down, cursing people like a shrew the moment she opens her mouth. We were classmates, after all. I don’t follow the old-fashioned rules of lecturing people without understanding the situation. Right?”

Ye Qianqian froze. Damn, she’s pissed!

She had known Meng Jiang for a long time. This woman usually wore a smile like a benevolent Bodhisattva, greeting everyone with warmth.

But in reality, her temper wasn’t exactly easygoing. Ye Qianqian had known Fu Chuchu’s earlier remarks would offend, but she hadn’t expected the offense to run this deep.

The subtext was clear—You picked someone this uncultured? Aren’t you afraid this’ll reach your family elders?

Fvck. This was outright collateral damage.

Swearing inwardly, Ye Qianqian suddenly felt uncertain. A pang of panic struck her.

What if, instead of rekindling old ties, Fu Chuchu had just ruined everything?

Ridiculous.

She hurriedly tried to explain, only to realize Meng Jiang’s criticism was spot-on—Fu Chuchu really was nothing but a pretty face, a troublemaker who couldn’t read the room.

She raised a glass to Meng Jiang, her cheeks slightly flushed, and said, “Come on, let’s have a toast. Stop liking women from now on—go marry a man and have kids. That way, we sisters who’ve been secretly pining for you can move on sooner and find someone better for our second spring.”

Meng Jiang: “…”

No one expected Fu Chuchu to be so bold, outright telling Meng Jiang to go have children.

Qi Sijia almost laughed, her lips curling slightly.

As if she had eyes on the back of her head, Meng Jiang turned around and pinpointed Qi Sijia’s location, shooting her a glance. Her phoenix eyes seemed to carry a hint of reproach.

Qi Sijia: “…”

The two exchanged a silent conversation through their eyes.

Naturally, Fu Chuchu followed Meng Jiang’s gaze and looked at Qi Sijia.

She picked up an entire bottle of red wine and approached. “Today’s my birthday.”

“Seeing Meng Jiang tonight already fulfilled my first wish. There’s still one more to go.”

“Qi Sijia, I heard you keep getting your heart broken, so I’ll give you my birthday wish. Grow up a little. It’s not easy for us girls to like girls—don’t just give up and turn into trash. No matter how old you are, you’ve got to find someone eventually.” Fu Chuchu didn’t notice her girlfriend’s stiffened posture at all.

She grabbed Ye Qianqian’s hand and turned to face Qi Sijia.

“May you find someone in the future who’s just as good as my girlfriend.”

Only after downing her glass of red wine did Fu Chuchu realize Qi Sijia hadn’t moved a muscle.

Her smiling eyes turned cold. “What, looking down on me?”

The provocation in her words was unmistakable. Qi Sijia met her hostile gaze expressionlessly and pushed a fruit platter toward Fu Chuchu. “An ’82 Lafite has a strong finish. For the sake of taste and your palate, restaurants usually serve appetizers first before the wine. It’s best to have some fruit as a buffer—otherwise, gulping it down like that will get you drunk fast.”

Fu Chuchu: “…”

Her tone was unhurried, her demeanor composed, as if she were genuinely offering thoughtful advice.

This attitude made Fu Chuchu’s fingers turn white with rage.

Turning to grip Ye Qianqian’s hand, she pouted with exaggerated hurt. “I’m sorry, she probably doesn’t like me. She won’t even give me face, even though you’re here with me.”

Qin Xiaofang nearly laughed in disbelief, cursing inwardly. Just as I thought—all that nonsense earlier, and her real motive was this.

She was about to speak when Meng Jiang shot her a glance, forcibly suppressing Qin Xiaofang’s urge to interject.

At the same time, Qi Sijia arched a brow and glanced at Ye Qianqian. Ye Qianqian’s expression was rigid, the chain of her Chanel bag wrapped tightly around her fingers, leaving red marks from how hard she’d twisted it.

She opened her mouth but couldn’t find words: “…”

Under multiple stares, Qi Sijia adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses with the back of her hand and said mildly, “Ye Qianqian, your new girlfriend’s quite something.”

She sincerely hoped her childhood best friend would take the hint and whisk Fu Chuchu away.

But ever since realizing Qi Sijia was here, Ye Qianqian’s brain had short-circuited.

Instinctively, she yanked her hand free from Fu Chuchu’s grip.

Right now, the most awkward person in the private room was Ye Qianqian.

First, she’d been called out by Meng Jiang, then dismissed by a kid—all thanks to her current girlfriend.

Her anger simmering, Ye Qianqian glared at Fu Chuchu with a dark expression. “Why should she give you face? Do you even know who’s sitting in front of you? Who are you to speak here?”

Fu Chuchu was stunned into silence. She’d been about to say, Just classmates?

But when she instinctively looked up and met Ye Qianqian’s icy gaze, she faltered. Only then did she belatedly realize she’d misunderstood something—said the wrong thing. But she had no idea what exactly she’d said wrong.

Well-acquainted with the fickle tempers of Ningcheng’s rich second-generation heirs, Fu Chuchu didn’t dare speak another word.

The room fell dead silent, everyone waiting for Ye Qianqian to put Fu Chuchu in her place.

But—something was off. The wealthy girlfriend Fu Chuchu had brought along seemed to know both Meng Jiang and Qi Sijia.

The classmates present were surprised to find that Fu Chuchu’s bragging had no effect on Qi Sijia. Even seated beside the stunningly beautiful Meng Jiang, Qi Sijia’s presence didn’t diminish in the slightest.

Quiet as a cool breeze, her eyes slightly downcast, she seemed to fade into the dim shadows, almost unnervingly still.

In contrast, Fu Chuchu’s affected posturing and haughty demeanor made her look like nothing more than a shrew.

After warning Fu Chuchu, Ye Qianqian turned back, feeling guilty as she looked at Qi Sijia.

“Why did you come out?”

Qi Sijia replied, “Class reunion.”

Once again, she marveled at how small the world was—what a messy twist of fate.

Ye Qianqian gave an awkward laugh.

“I thought you said your social anxiety made it hard to see people. With so many here today, are you okay?”

Qi Sijia pulled a bottle of heart-saving pills from her pocket and shook it twice, signaling that she was far from okay.

“Then why did you even come?” Ye Qianqian rolled her eyes.

“I was just about to leave,” Qi Sijia said.

“Fine, I’ll walk you out.”

The familiarity in their tone made it clear they knew each other well.

Nearly everyone’s gaze was fixed on them—Fu Chuchu’s disbelief, the surrounding classmates’ curiosity, and Meng Jiang’s cool scrutiny.

Qi Sijia closed her eyes briefly. In truth, she was far from as composed as she appeared. Her body trembled subtly, and the arm closest to Meng Jiang involuntarily quivered.

In the dim light, Meng Jiang suddenly opened her eyes, shifted slightly, and unobtrusively positioned herself beside Qi Sijia.

Meanwhile, determined to make amends, Ye Qianqian spoke to Qi Sijia without waiting for a response, then turned to Meng Jiang.

“Jiang-jie, today was my fault. I’ll personally come to your place another day to apologize.”

Her words were sincere, almost as if she were ready to kowtow in repentance.

But Meng Jiang abruptly lifted her gaze, shifting from her relaxed posture to standing. She disliked others speaking down to her. Picking up a white shawl from the couch, she draped it over her arm.

“No need to come over. We’ll arrange something over the phone next time. Qi Sijia and I have other matters to attend to, so we’re leaving. If you have something to say, say it now. Otherwise, it’d be best if you took Fu Chuchu home. She’s with you, and given how drunk and erratic she’s been tonight, any further commotion won’t be good for you, her, or anyone else.”

The implication was clear: manage your own girlfriend. If you’re dating a public figure, you’d better be capable of handling the fallout. If Ye Qianqian dared to abandon Fu Chuchu to escort Qi Sijia tonight, it would be nothing short of a heartless betrayal—and a surefire way to cause trouble for Qi Sijia.

Meng Jiang’s gaze was icy. She turned and strode leisurely down the aisle, stopping before another set of sofas about fifty meters away.

Seated there was a slightly overweight bespectacled male classmate. When Meng Jiang approached, he stuffed his phone into his pocket and stood up in surprise.

Meng Jiang extended her hand. “Give me your phone.”

The man blinked, feigning ignorance. “Huh?”

Meng Jiang smiled politely. “Class reunions aren’t the place for recordings, right? We’re all classmates here—future connections and conversation partners. A public figure’s privacy is more important than anything. If you pull stunts like this, who’d want to associate with you in the future?”

Most of the classmates in the room worked in the entertainment industry. At Meng Jiang’s reminder, nearly all of them shot disapproving looks at the bespectacled man.

“Our goddess is too kind. Why bother reasoning with someone who doesn’t follow the rules?”

Li Ang stepped forward, snatched the phone from Hu Dou’s hand, and deleted all the recorded videos and audio. After verifying everything was cleared, he tossed it back.

Qi Sijia had never seen Meng Jiang handle a situation like this before. She was even more mature and radiant than five years ago—not just in appearance, but in her flawless, almost breathtakingly skillful way of navigating social dynamics.

In an instant, the light fell on Meng Jiang’s enchanting face. She turned slightly and once again precisely caught Qi Sijia’s gaze, locking eyes with her.

For some reason, Qi Sijia didn’t immediately look away.

The next moment, a sultry voice tinged with intimacy came from above: “I’ve been waiting for you all this time. Aren’t you coming?”