I Am the White Moonlight that the Former Movie Queen Secretly Loves - Chapter 34

Cats are creatures that often lack a sense of security, and Big Orange was no exception. In the cozy hospital cage, it would curl up tightly, its eyes snapping open at the slightest sound, always on alert.

Even with Qi Sijia keeping watch in the ward, Big Orange remained wary. Yet, when they returned to the crumbling, condemned house in the old district, this problem vanished. The elderly cat, still spirited at first, explored every corner of the home, its life brimming with joy and freedom.

A week after Big Orange was discharged, Ah Le came upstairs to visit and said to Qi Sijia, “It looks so happy.”

Qi Sijia replied, “Mm.”

“You look very…” Ah Le paused, struggling to find the right words to describe Qi Sijia’s state.

Most people would naturally grieve when their cat was dying, but Qi Sijia seemed to be calmly bidding farewell to Big Orange. There was no sorrow or fear in her eyes—as if, during this waiting period, she and her companion had reached some unspoken understanding, accepting each other’s eventual parting.

“I thought you’d keep it in the hospital for ongoing treatment,” Ah Le said.

“Maybe I would have done that before,” Qi Sijia answered vaguely.

That night, she had been too visibly distraught to care if Ah Le noticed.

Probably everyone could see that Qi Sijia couldn’t bear the thought of Big Orange passing, but what they didn’t know was that this terror stemmed from a fear she had never confronted in all these years.

Five years ago, Grandma Qi’s sudden death had left an indelible shadow.

Qi Sijia couldn’t accept the idea of the people and things she loved disappearing one by one from her heart. Grandma was one, and Big Orange was another.

She had always believed she could let go of everything and embrace the world. But in truth, those emotions had never been revisited—they had simply been sealed away in her heart, buried under the illusion that selective forgetting meant reconciliation.

But that night of Big Orange’s surgery, Qi Sijia had already broken down.

She couldn’t face the loneliness of being alone.

It was Meng Jiang who forcibly pulled her back. In that RV, as the prelude to Hua Dan began playing, memories stretched out before her.

Qi Sijia was forced to revisit her old wounds, expecting it to be unbearable.

Yet, to her surprise, she realized—oh. She had once been someone who passionately chased after what she loved.

The script for Hua Dan wasn’t perfect, but every frame was infused with a depth of emotion that made it the only work of hers that even her teacher had marveled at.

It carried her hopes and dreams for the world—the tragic beauty of war, romantic kisses amid slaughter, rebuilding from ruins.

The grandeur of sacrifice and the triumph of survival.

In the five years she had shut herself away, Qi Sijia had never once asked herself: What kind of person had she been?

The version of herself who had written a script brimming with love.

Setting aside family and Meng Jiang, her world had once been bathed in light, her messy handwriting etching the fullness of life.

Suddenly, Qi Sijia realized she had taken a wrong turn these past five years. People might part ways one day, but the things she loved were hers—chasing after them meant never being abandoned.

Perhaps this was where her peace came from.

Ah Le noticed that Qi Sijia had become much more at ease. Though she was still quiet and reserved, the change was evident in how her responses had shifted from single words to full sentences.

The exact reason was hard to pinpoint, but one thing was clear—she was changing for the better.

Ale was happy for her and stayed with Qi Sijia for a while, meticulously explaining all the details about caring for a cat in its final days.

Perhaps from talking too much, Ale felt thirsty and glanced a few times at the apples on the coffee table.

“Can I have one?”

These were all sent by Meng Jiang over the past few days—one a day, placed neatly on top of an exquisite insulated box.

Qi Sijia hadn’t touched them, leaving them in the draining basket.

Now that Ale asked, Qi Sijia picked up the beautiful apples one by one from the basket, placed them in a plastic bag, and handed it to Ale.

Ale smiled brightly. “Qi Sijia, you’re such a kind person. To cats, and to people alike.”

Qi Sijia chuckled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Ale was curious why she said that. People who love animals usually have a soft spot in their hearts.

Projecting her own feelings, Ale asked puzzledly, “Has anyone ever said you weren’t good?”

“Many,” Qi Sijia replied.

Like Ge Yaru, like her ex-girlfriends.

“Then they must have misunderstood you.”

Qi Sijia walked Ale to the door, smiling faintly.

But as soon as the door opened, Meng Jiang was standing outside.

Ale had met Meng Jiang at the hospital before, so they exchanged greetings. Meng Jiang’s gaze shifted to the apples in Ale’s hand.

Misinterpreting Meng Jiang’s look, Ale picked out the reddest one from the bag and offered it to her. “Want one? I took all the ones from Qi Sijia’s place.”

Meng Jiang raised an eyebrow but didn’t immediately take it. Instead, she turned her gaze to Qi Sijia’s face. Dressed in loungewear and wearing square-framed glasses, Qi Sijia had likely been working before Ale arrived.

A simple and understated look, yet it carried a cool elegance.

Meng Jiang gave her a once-over and asked, “Can I have one?”

Qi Sijia lifted her eyes, meeting Meng Jiang’s unsubtle gaze.

The apples were originally sent by Meng Jiang, so there was no question of permission.

Meng Jiang’s question was clearly laced with some emotion.

Qi Sijia picked up on it but didn’t offer an explanation from where she stood by the door. “Suit yourself,” she said.

–

After saying goodbye, Ale hurried downstairs to prepare food for her cat.

Qi Sijia took out a pair of used slippers for Meng Jiang—the same pair Meng Jiang had shamelessly worn the last time she overstayed her welcome.

They hadn’t been thrown out and could still be worn a few more times.

Qi Sijia figured Meng Jiang wouldn’t mind reusing something she’d already worn.

But she forgot that the two of them hadn’t yet cleared the air between them, both still wearing masks of pretense.

Realizing this, Qi Sijia noticed Meng Jiang’s fingers lightly brushing the thin straps behind her ears, though she quickly withdrew her hand.

After changing into the slippers, Qi Sijia gestured casually. “Make yourself at home.”

“What brings you here now?”

Her tone was perfectly natural. Recently, Meng Jiang had been making her presence felt daily—if not in person, then by having a driver deliver meals right on time.

She never said anything more, striking just the right balance.

After a week of this routine, pretending not to know each other would have seemed deliberate.

Qi Sijia didn’t put on airs, treating Meng Jiang like an old friend as she guided her to the sofa and even prepared to make tea behind the bar.

But Meng Jiang waved her off. “No need to trouble yourself.”

“Just freed up some time. How’s Big Orange?” Though her eyes still held a smile, Qi Sijia could tell Meng Jiang had been in low spirits since arriving.

“He stopped eating yesterday,” Qi Sijia answered honestly.

Although the big orange cat was still slowly moving around the house with playful energy, the undeniable truth was that its organ failure was worsening day by day.

Qi Sijia brought Meng Jiang inside to see the big orange. The old cat indeed seemed listless.

Qi Sijia mentioned that it hadn’t eaten anything today and had vomited some white foam in the morning.

They both silently understood—this cat might be dying.

Hesitating, Meng Jiang asked, “Should we…”

“No.” Qi Sijia cut her off, as if already knowing what she wanted to say. “No point in forcing it.”

In this world, many things simply can’t be forced. When fate runs its course, one must learn to accept it.

Qi Sijia had originally meant this as an acknowledgment of the cat’s impending passing, but the words slipped out without much thought. Only after speaking did she realize they could easily be misinterpreted in another context. When she looked up, she noticed Meng Jiang had already averted her gaze.

“What about you?”

Qi Sijia raised her eyes. “Hmm?”

“You gave away the apple I gave you. Have you eaten?” In truth, this was all Meng Jiang had been concerned about from the start.

Qi Sijia turned to see those striking phoenix eyes, usually so lively, now lowered.

“Do you mind that I gave your gift to someone else?”

Their eyes met. Meng Jiang pursed her lips slightly and said, “No. Once it’s yours, you can do whatever you want with it.”

Qi Sijia figured as much—Meng Jiang wasn’t the petty type. That’s why she hadn’t bothered explaining earlier. Besides, she was on her period and couldn’t eat cold apples, but the lunchbox Meng Jiang had sent over had ended up in her stomach.

“Do you need an explanation?” Qi Sijia stared straight at her.

At this, the irritation that had just flared up in Meng Jiang seemed to deflate instantly. Leaning back on the sofa, she was the first to concede. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Qi Sijia: “Like what?”

“I genuinely don’t mind. I was just worried you gave the food I sent to A’Le and ended up skipping meals yourself while taking care of the cat.”

Meng Jiang spoke bluntly, “If you want to give A’Le an apple next time, I’ll have the housekeeper pack an extra one. How’s that?”

When she set aside her usual roundabout social niceties and spoke so directly, Qi Sijia found it hard to resist.

In the past, Meng Jiang had been full of schemes, playing mind games, and Qi Sijia had still fallen for it.

Now, with all those twists and turns stripped away, Meng Jiang was straightforward and sincere.

And Qi Sijia still fell for it.

Even though she hadn’t yet had time to figure out what role Meng Jiang played in the five years of her closed-off life.

For now, listening in silence, Qi Sijia lowered her eyes and said, “Your new chef is really good. But skip the apples—I’m avoiding cold foods lately.”

Meng Jiang froze for a moment before a small smile tugged at her lips.

This was an open acknowledgment that the meals she’d been sending were now officially sanctioned.

She couldn’t help but laugh. “You should’ve said so earlier.”

For the next week, Meng Jiang personally delivered the meals. She was on break, with her only variety show wrapping up and her new drama still in pre-production. As for her company, not everything required the personal attention of its investor-founder. With Jiang Ru handling things efficiently, Meng Jiang had no trouble making time.

Her only concern was overstepping—Qi Sijia’s stance wasn’t yet clear, and Meng Jiang, as the “sin-laden first love,” was far more cautious in pursuing her this time around than before.

But after receiving Qi Sijia’s indirect approval, Meng Jiang delivered the meals with newfound boldness.

Although she would leave immediately after delivering the food, never adding any unnecessary drama for herself, Meng Jiang was afraid that Qi Sijia might want to discuss something between them at this moment when she wasn’t in the best mood.

After all, Meng Jiang subjectively believed that any decision Qi Sijia made in this state wouldn’t be rational.

Coincidentally, Qi Sijia thought the same way. So Meng Jiang treaded carefully along the edges, maintaining a distance that was neither too close nor too far, seamlessly and quietly integrating into Qi Sijia’s space.

One day, while delivering food, Meng Jiang ran into Gui Xiaolian.

Gui Xiaolian tagged Qi Sijia in the landlady group chat: See? I told you she’s into you.

And just like that, all the neighbors in the building knew that Qi Sijia had a wealthy suitor who was gentle only to her but picky behind her back.

–

Big Orange passed away a week before Christmas. By the next day, the cat’s body had grown cold.

Qi Sijia placed it in an exquisite box lined with cotton padding, along with its usual bowls, toys, and food.

A’Le suggested several ways to bury the animal, but Qi Sijia shook her head at each one.

She cremated Big Orange along with all its belongings.

Nothing was left behind—just a white porcelain urn containing the ashes.

Qi Sijia decided to bury Big Orange alongside Grandma Qi. She told A’Le, “It can’t stay with me anymore, but it can take care of Grandma in my place.”

A’Le smiled and said, “I think so too. That cat was loyal its whole life. Rather than leaving it in an unfamiliar place, it’s better to let it return to its original owner.”

After handling the final arrangements, Qi Sijia dropped A’Le off at the rental apartment and prepared to make a trip to Nan County.

After Grandma Qi passed, she was buried in Nan County alongside Grandpa Qi, in a traditional earth burial. Qi Jun had bought the entire mountain for the purpose.

Qi Sijia always felt that Grandma Qi probably hadn’t wanted an entire mountain as a show of prestige—wasting land resources—but simply wished to be closer to her husband.

Now, with the cat she had raised for years joining them, it would be livelier there.

Once the decision was made, she prepared to set off. But as her car stopped on the opposite side of the street near the old district, Meng Jiang intercepted her.

“Let me drive you.”

Qi Sijia rolled down the window. She didn’t see pity in Meng Jiang’s eyes, but there was a certain favor there.

Feeling a bit helpless, she was about to say, You really don’t have to treat me like a child.

But Meng Jiang had already leaned in, reaching across Qi Sijia’s body, her fingers deftly plucking the car keys from the ignition.

As Qi Sijia leaned forward to pull her arm back from the window, Meng Jiang’s hand accidentally brushed against her chest.

The movement froze mid-air. Qi Sijia shot her a sidelong glance. “What… are you doing?”

Meng Jiang’s fingers recoiled as if burned.

Her long lashes lowered slightly, the usually faint teardrop mole at the corner of her eye now as vivid as pigeon’s bl00d.

“Get out. Ride with me instead.” The prepared excuse lost its force. Meng Jiang took a step back, her gaze fixed on the ground, deliberately avoiding Qi Sijia’s eyes. Her voice was low as she added, “The mountain roads to Nan County are rough. A car with higher clearance is safer—your little yellow duck probably won’t cut it. I happen to have my own business there anyway, so it’s on the way.”

Qi Sijia said nothing. Meng Jiang finally looked up, her expression unreadable, as if silently challenging her.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other—one sitting in the car with a faint smile in her eyes, the other standing outside, grinning brightly.

It seemed both of them realized how childish they were being. Grown adults now, even if they disagreed, could they really settle it like men with a fight?

Girls loving girls had always been their shared understanding. As long as boundaries weren’t crossed, no matter the situation, they instinctively knew to save face for their fellow women.

But when it came to each other, there were moments filled with sharp edges. Recently, however, Qi Sijia had gradually come to realize that the rift between her and Meng Jiang had never been deep-seated hatred.

As for what it was? She didn’t have the time to dwell on it just yet.

Qi Sijia was the first to open the car door, raising an eyebrow as she said, “Do you act like this with everyone?”

“Absolutely not.” She couldn’t stand players or people who acted like they cared about everyone. With so many fans, how exhausting would that be?

Meng Jiang shot Qi Sijia a look, her eyes conveying, You know better than anyone whether my temper is good or not.

She didn’t say it out loud. Only after Qi Sijia got in the car did she add, “And it’s not just for you. I actually have something to take care of on this trip.”

As for how urgent, important, or how much of it was just an excuse, Qi Sijia didn’t bother dissecting it.

She generously took the passenger seat.

“Hey, seatbelt,” Meng Jiang interjected, reaching over as if to fasten it for her.

Qi Sijia blocked her hand and buckled it herself.

Meng Jiang’s palm turned downward, her sweater riding up slightly to reveal a pale wrist bone, suspended mid-air for a moment before she withdrew it.

It was as if she was saying, So stingy!

Qi Sijia caught the gesture, her brow quirking. A sudden thought popped into her head—had Meng Jiang, who exuded such domineering energy while buckling someone’s seatbelt, flipped her role in the past five years?

She nearly voiced it out loud.

But thankfully, she held back.

–

Nan County was a mountainous town, surrounded by hills. Meng Jiang drove along the winding mountain roads.

The terrain was rugged and complex.

Halfway through, Qi Sijia and Meng Jiang switched places. Taking turns driving would be less exhausting.

Meng Jiang admitted she couldn’t handle the drive alone and thanked Qi Sijia for agreeing to come along.

“You’ve never been here before?” Qi Sijia asked.

Actually, Qi Sijia had brought Meng Jiang to Nan County once before, when she accompanied Grandma Qi back for the New Year.

But it had snowed that year, making the mountain roads treacherous. Qi Sijia had insisted on driving the entire way, refusing to let Meng Jiang take the wheel.

She hadn’t expected Meng Jiang to deny it, but the answer surprised her.

“I come every year. With a driver,” Meng Jiang replied.

Qi Sijia froze, slanting a glance at her. The award-winning actress covered a yawn with her hand. “What’s with that look? I really do have business here. Just hitching a ride with you. Why won’t you believe me?”

Qi Sijia wasn’t in the mood to argue. “Fine, I’ll believe you then.”

Meng Jiang laughed in exasperation.

The latter half of the drive was smooth and steady. Qi Sijia navigated the winding mountain roads with ease.

Lulled by the gentle motion and the quiet scent of Qi Sijia, Meng Jiang dozed off.

By the time she woke up, they had arrived at their destination.

–

Nan County was full of mountains, many of them abandoned. Scattered here and there were conspicuous mounds of yellow earth, enclosed by cement—graves.

Big Orange’s ashes were buried in one such small mound, nestled between the graves of the old couple.

With the help of locals hired on-site for the burial, Qi Sijia, who has social anxiety, had arranged for a local intermediary online a few hours prior to handle the task of finding people to assist with the burial.

However, upon arrival, the specifics turned out to be far more complicated than Qi Sijia had anticipated—details like feng shui positioning, timing, and soil requirements. Fortunately, Meng Jiang had come along. Recently, Qi Sijia had often tried to convince herself she was “normal,” thinking that wearing a gas mask might make social interactions less daunting.

After all, she had been managing well with A Le and Gui Xiaolian lately. But when faced with a crowd of strangers, all speaking in unfamiliar accents, those psychological barriers surged like wild grass, spreading uncontrollably.

The instinctive nausea and palpitations never truly went away.

With Meng Jiang around, Qi Sijia felt slightly better.

She forced herself to negotiate with the group, but Meng Jiang soon noticed and subtly took over part of the conversation.

The details regarding Big Orange’s burial—location and timing—were finalized and left for Qi Sijia to decide.

Before long, they agreed to hold the burial the following morning.

As they descended the hill, Meng Jiang asked Qi Sijia about her plans for the afternoon.

Qi Sijia shook her head. “Nothing in particular.”

“Then come with me to Hope Elementary.”

“Why are you going there?” Hope Elementary was a public school that had been on the verge of closure five years ago due to dwindling student numbers.

The problem was simple: too few children attended, and those of school age lived too far away.

As mentioned earlier, Nan County was a mountainous region, full of winding roads and endless hills. Many children had to trek for hours just to get to school.

Especially in winter, with the school’s poor facilities, kids would arrive with frostbitten hands and faces after trudging through the snow.

Qi Sijia hadn’t been back in five years, but whenever she could, she donated to the school’s public account—sometimes monthly, sometimes every few months.

She had even sent physical supplies but had never set foot there again.

It never occurred to Qi Sijia that Meng Jiang would come here for charity work.

In fact, Meng Jiang had done even more than Qi Sijia over the years. Upon arriving at the campus, Qi Sijia noticed a Hope Middle School under construction not far from the elementary school.

The silver-haired principal, her bangs neatly cut, explained, “That school is fully funded by Miss Meng. She visits the children every year.”

The winter mountain wind howled as Qi Sijia tightened her collar, watching Meng Jiang pop open the trunk and call out to the gatekeeper, “Uncle Tuo, need any help?”

“Such rough work isn’t for you, Miss Meng! I’ve got it covered.”

The wind tousled Meng Jiang’s long, wavy hair as she grinned. “Alright then.”

Turning back to Qi Sijia, she said, “It’s cold here. Shall we go? Come meet the kids I sponsor.”

Qi Sijia looked up. Snow had fallen in the mountains the day before, leaving a thick blanket on the ground.

Against the snowy backdrop, Meng Jiang stood in her warm-toned, wide-collared coat, the wind rushing in. It looked freezing, yet her smile was untouched by the cold—bright and radiant, exuding warmth.

Qi Sijia walked over and unwound her scarf, wrapping it around Meng Jiang’s neck. It was an instinctive gesture.

Her fingers paused briefly after. Their noses were almost touching, just a step away from contact.

Meng Jiang swallowed, tilting her face up. Qi Sijia studied her for a moment before stepping back.

“Then… let’s go see the kids you sponsor,” Qi Sijia exhaled a white breath, shoving her hands into her down jacket. “It’s been years since I’ve been here. You know the way better—lead on.”

Meng Jiang felt even more awkward than Qi Sijia. She pretended to adjust her scarf, wrapping it tighter around herself.

They walked in silence for a while. Sensing her discomfort, Qi Sijia casually asked, “Earlier in the car, you mentioned you come every year? Always around this time?”

Meng Jiang smiled. “No, usually on the third day of the Lunar New Year. This year I came early, thinking you’d be here, so I figured I’d pick up a travel companion.”

The mention of the third day left Qi Sijia at a loss for words.

To ask why specifically the third day would inevitably lead to further questions.

Qi Sijia didn’t press. Meng Jiang glanced at her and simply reminded her to watch her step on the slippery path.

Then she began to chat idly to herself: “The first year I came, I held onto hope, thinking that at the same time and place, I might coincidentally meet the person I wanted to see. But the world is so full of people—even at a specific location, a chance encounter isn’t guaranteed. I persisted for three years without seeing who I hoped to, and just when I thought there was no hope left, that year I met Meimei. Later, I came here as a way to decompress. Every time after wrapping up filming or during the New Year break, I’d come, though not on a fixed schedule. Sometimes I’d drop by every few months.”

“Is Meimei the child you sponsor?” Qi Sijia picked up the thread of conversation.

“Mm,” Meng Jiang replied. “I’ll take you to see her. This trip is mainly to visit her. The child hasn’t been in a good mental state lately and needs to see a psychologist.”

As they spoke, the two arrived in front of the upper-grade school building.

Meimei’s classroom was on the second floor, and it was recess. While the other children played together, the little girl sat in a corner, sketching with a charcoal pencil.

She stood out starkly from the other children—too quiet, too withdrawn, her eyes rarely reflecting anyone around her. Meng Jiang walked over, bent down, and met the girl at eye level.

The girl glanced at her briefly before quickly looking away.

“Meimei, why won’t you call me?” Meng Jiang asked.

The little girl lowered her head and drew a few strokes on the ground before finally lifting her chin to look at Meng Jiang.

“Sister,” she said softly, her tone stiff but finally revealing a hint of emotion, as if she had just snapped out of her closed-off world.

Qi Sijia stood to the side, her fingers curling tightly inside her down jacket, nails digging into her palms.

“Call me sister?”

“Why won’t you call me sister again?”

“Little mute, what’s wrong? Pretending not to know me? Then let’s reintroduce ourselves. Meng Jiang—dreams, understand?”

The words echoed relentlessly in Qi Sijia’s mind. She didn’t catch what the child beside her said next.

Suddenly, the girl wrenched her hand free from Meng Jiang’s grip and began screaming, clutching her head in agony.

A teacher rushed in to hold Meimei’s hand, and Meng Jiang walked over to Qi Sijia apologetically.

“I’m sorry. She has autism. Did she scare you?”

Qi Sijia shook her head. Meng Jiang studied her for a moment, ensuring she was fine, then said, “Wait for me here. I’ll take her to see the psychologist.”

A red mark from Meimei’s grip was clearly visible on the back of Meng Jiang’s hand.

Qi Sijia’s gaze lingered on it before she reached out to stop her. “I’ll go.”

“Meimei can be aggressive with strangers. She might hurt you,” Meng Jiang hesitated.

“She won’t,” Qi Sijia said firmly, pulling Meng Jiang behind her. No one could guess what she was thinking as she spoke calmly, “Stay here and don’t move.”

–

Meimei had gone back to staring at the ground. After shaking off both Meng Jiang and the teacher, she bristled like a cactus, covered in thorns.

Qi Sijia walked up to Meimei and crouched down. The little girl’s eyes were sharp, like a wolf’s.

“That sister’s hand is hurt because of you,” Qi Sijia said. “Do you want to go check on her?”

The girl’s expression flickered slightly, a rare glimmer of something passing through her eyes.

Qi Sijia waited patiently for her to process the emotions, her tone steady and unhurried. “Remember this feeling.”

“This is the sister you haven’t seen in a long time. She brought a friend to visit you—balloons, books, colored pencils, all for you. She smiles so gently, and you like her a lot. Can you feel that?”

Qi Sijia’s expression was calm and gentle. Meng Jiang stood by her side, watching as she patiently locked eyes with the little girl. Their eyes were identical—just like many years ago. But now, Qi Sijia’s gaze seemed to follow the light.

After a long while, Meng Jiang heard Meimei open her mouth and say, “I remember.”

Qi Sijia’s eyes were too mesmerizing—Meimei liked her.

Meng Jiang thought, I like her too.

Meng Jiang took Meimei to see a psychologist, with Qi Sijia tagging along. The psychologist was a distant relative of Jiang Ru, who had come to the countryside as a volunteer teacher and also provided psychological counseling for children in the mountains.

At first glance, he asked Qi Sijia, “Are you here for counseling too?”

Meng Jiang turned her gaze to Qi Sijia’s face.

Qi Sijia replied, “Not me.”

“It’s her,” Meng Jiang said, nudging Meimei forward.

Jiang Jun let out an “Ah,” skeptically withdrawing his gaze before pulling a business card from his pocket and handing it to Qi Sijia.

“If you ever have psychological concerns, feel free to consult me anytime.”

Qi Sijia accepted the card with thanks, sensing Meng Jiang’s lingering gaze on her face.

They were both smart—Meng Jiang was suspicious.

Qi Sijia thought for a moment, then looked up at her and suddenly called out, “Are you free tomorrow night? I’d like to treat you to dinner.”

Treat her to dinner?

Meng Jiang froze. For days, they had been playing a tacit game.

Considering Da Ju’s passing, Qi Sijia needed time to process, and Meng Jiang had kept her distance, giving them both space.

Now, after half a month, they stood face to face. Sitting down together for a meal without masks had never happened before. For Qi Sijia to take the initiative and suggest dinner—everything was left unspoken.

It was just unexpected—the timing of breaking this barrier was much sooner than Meng Jiang had anticipated.

She rested her hand on the railing, tapping it idly a few times before meeting Qi Sijia’s steady gaze again. Even after a moment, she still couldn’t read her thoughts.

Meng Jiang decided not to dwell on it. With a flirtatious smile, she said, “Well, in that case, there’s something I’m not sure if I should ask.”

“Go ahead,” Qi Sijia replied.

“How does Ms. Qi plan to have this meal?”

Qi Sijia chuckled. “However you’d like.”

With that confirmation, Meng Jiang’s eyes curved in amusement. “In that case, you’ll have to schedule it with my assistant first. A formal date should follow the proper procedures.”

She emphasized the word “date.”

Qi Sijia raised an eyebrow, initially about to say forget it, but when her eyes met Meng Jiang’s upturned phoenix gaze, she adjusted her glasses with the back of her hand.

The lenses reflected the light as her low, mesmerizing voice, laced with laughter, replied, “As you wish.”

Then she began to chat idly to herself: “The first year I came, I held onto hope, thinking that at the same time and place, I might coincidentally meet the person I wanted to see. But the world is so full of people—even at a specific location, a chance encounter isn’t guaranteed. I persisted for three years without seeing who I hoped to, and just when I thought there was no hope left, that year I met Meimei. Later, I came here as a way to decompress. Every time after wrapping up filming or during the New Year break, I’d come, though not on a fixed schedule. Sometimes I’d drop by every few months.”

“Is Meimei the child you sponsor?” Qi Sijia picked up the thread of conversation.

“Mm,” Meng Jiang replied. “I’ll take you to see her. This trip is mainly to visit her. The child hasn’t been in a good mental state lately and needs to see a psychologist.”

As they spoke, the two arrived in front of the upper-grade school building.

Meimei’s classroom was on the second floor, and it was recess. While the other children played together, the little girl sat in a corner, sketching with a charcoal pencil.

She stood out starkly from the other children—too quiet, too withdrawn, her eyes rarely reflecting anyone around her. Meng Jiang walked over, bent down, and met the girl at eye level.

The girl glanced at her briefly before quickly looking away.

“Meimei, why won’t you call me?” Meng Jiang asked.

The little girl lowered her head and drew a few strokes on the ground before finally lifting her chin to look at Meng Jiang.

“Sister,” she said softly, her tone stiff but finally revealing a hint of emotion, as if she had just snapped out of her closed-off world.

Qi Sijia stood to the side, her fingers curling tightly inside her down jacket, nails digging into her palms.

“Call me sister?”

“Why won’t you call me sister again?”

“Little mute, what’s wrong? Pretending not to know me? Then let’s reintroduce ourselves. Meng Jiang—dreams, understand?”

The words echoed relentlessly in Qi Sijia’s mind. She didn’t catch what the child beside her said next.

Suddenly, the girl wrenched her hand free from Meng Jiang’s grip and began screaming, clutching her head in agony.

A teacher rushed in to hold Meimei’s hand, and Meng Jiang walked over to Qi Sijia apologetically.

“I’m sorry. She has autism. Did she scare you?”

Qi Sijia shook her head. Meng Jiang studied her for a moment, ensuring she was fine, then said, “Wait for me here. I’ll take her to see the psychologist.”

A red mark from Meimei’s grip was clearly visible on the back of Meng Jiang’s hand.

Qi Sijia’s gaze lingered on it before she reached out to stop her. “I’ll go.”

“Meimei can be aggressive with strangers. She might hurt you,” Meng Jiang hesitated.

“She won’t,” Qi Sijia said firmly, pulling Meng Jiang behind her. No one could guess what she was thinking as she spoke calmly, “Stay here and don’t move.”

–

Meimei had gone back to staring at the ground. After shaking off both Meng Jiang and the teacher, she bristled like a cactus, covered in thorns.

Qi Sijia walked up to Meimei and crouched down. The little girl’s eyes were sharp, like a wolf’s.

“That sister’s hand is hurt because of you,” Qi Sijia said. “Do you want to go check on her?”

The girl’s expression flickered slightly, a rare glimmer of something passing through her eyes.

Qi Sijia waited patiently for her to process the emotions, her tone steady and unhurried. “Remember this feeling.”

“This is the sister you haven’t seen in a long time. She brought a friend to visit you—balloons, books, colored pencils, all for you. She smiles so gently, and you like her a lot. Can you feel that?”

Qi Sijia’s expression was calm and gentle. Meng Jiang stood by her side, watching as she patiently locked eyes with the little girl. Their eyes were identical—just like many years ago. But now, Qi Sijia’s gaze seemed to follow the light.

After a long while, Meng Jiang heard Meimei open her mouth and say, “I remember.”

Qi Sijia’s eyes were too mesmerizing—Meimei liked her.

Meng Jiang thought, I like her too.

Meng Jiang took Meimei to see a psychologist, with Qi Sijia tagging along. The psychologist was a distant relative of Jiang Ru, who had come to the countryside as a volunteer teacher and also provided psychological counseling for children in the mountains.

At first glance, he asked Qi Sijia, “Are you here for counseling too?”

Meng Jiang turned her gaze to Qi Sijia’s face.

Qi Sijia replied, “Not me.”

“It’s her,” Meng Jiang said, nudging Meimei forward.

Jiang Jun let out an “Ah,” skeptically withdrawing his gaze before pulling a business card from his pocket and handing it to Qi Sijia.

“If you ever have psychological concerns, feel free to consult me anytime.”

Qi Sijia accepted the card with thanks, sensing Meng Jiang’s lingering gaze on her face.

They were both smart—Meng Jiang was suspicious.

Qi Sijia thought for a moment, then looked up at her and suddenly called out, “Are you free tomorrow night? I’d like to treat you to dinner.”

Treat her to dinner?

Meng Jiang froze. For days, they had been playing a tacit game.

Considering Da Ju’s passing, Qi Sijia needed time to process, and Meng Jiang had kept her distance, giving them both space.

Now, after half a month, they stood face to face. Sitting down together for a meal without masks had never happened before. For Qi Sijia to take the initiative and suggest dinner—everything was left unspoken.

It was just unexpected—the timing of breaking this barrier was much sooner than Meng Jiang had anticipated.

She rested her hand on the railing, tapping it idly a few times before meeting Qi Sijia’s steady gaze again. Even after a moment, she still couldn’t read her thoughts.

Meng Jiang decided not to dwell on it. With a flirtatious smile, she said, “Well, in that case, there’s something I’m not sure if I should ask.”

“Go ahead,” Qi Sijia replied.

“How does Ms. Qi plan to have this meal?”

Qi Sijia chuckled. “However you’d like.”

With that confirmation, Meng Jiang’s eyes curved in amusement. “In that case, you’ll have to schedule it with my assistant first. A formal date should follow the proper procedures.”

She emphasized the word “date.”

Qi Sijia raised an eyebrow, initially about to say forget it, but when her eyes met Meng Jiang’s upturned phoenix gaze, she adjusted her glasses with the back of her hand.

The lenses reflected the light as her low, mesmerizing voice, laced with laughter, replied, “As you wish.”