Two Faced Lover - Chapter 17

17: Hair Tie
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‎”Quite a few. My previous roommates weren’t very skilled in the kitchen.” Bo Mingyan said as she plated the sliced tomatoes, washing her hands with a chuckle. “Especially your sister—when we lived together, I ended up doing most of the cooking.”
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‎The water in the pot boiled vigorously, bubbles rising in a steady rhythm, yet Meng Xuran’s heart gradually calmed. She drew out a long, languid “Oh.”
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‎It sounded faintly disappointed.
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‎Bo Mingyan dropped a single portion of noodles into the pot. At Meng Xuran’s tone, her hand paused mid-motion. “Why… did you suddenly ask that?”
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‎Questions like these usually carried undertones of possessiveness—the kind exchanged between couples. Given their current relationship, which barely qualified as casual friendship, it felt slightly out of place.
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‎Bo Mingyan furrowed her brows. While she never categorically labeled the women around her, she couldn’t help but wonder now.
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‎”Just making conversation.” Meng Xuran replied smoothly, reciting the excuse she’d prepared earlier. “I feel a little guilty, so I wanted to see if others have put you through the same.”
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‎”…”
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‎Bo Mingyan’s half-sigh of relief caught in her throat.
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‎The way her expression froze was oddly endearing. Meng Xuran, thoroughly unrepentant, laughed.
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‎Bo Mingyan turned up the heat under the oil, her voice flat as she stated, “But you’re the first to drag me into cooking this late.”
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‎Meng Xuran’s mood bubbled up like the water in the noodle pot, her lips threatening to split into a grin. Before Bo Mingyan could notice, she spun toward the door. “I’ll go get ready first.”
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‎It almost looked like she was fleeing in shame after being scolded.
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‎At the sound of the door closing, Bo Mingyan hesitated for a split second.
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‎When she’d suspected Meng Xuran might be queer, her first thought was that she’d need to establish boundaries. But the moment she considered creating distance, she realized—she really didn’t want Meng Xuran to be.
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‎The oil overheated. When she tossed in the tomatoes, flames leapt up. Bo Mingyan eyed the unruly blaze, sighed, and calmly clapped a lid over the pan.
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‎By the time the stir-fry was done, the noodles were ready. She drained them, topped them with the sauce, then headed out to call Meng Xuran.
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‎The master bedroom door was ajar. From the hallway, Bo Mingyan peered inside.
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‎Meng Xuran stood at her desk, organizing documents, her head slightly bowed. Raven hair cascaded over one shoulder, framing a profile of sharp yet delicate lines—high nose bridge, defined jaw.
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‎This serene, focused version of her made it hard to reconcile with the usual sharp-tongued, teary-eyed persona.
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‎Sensing the weight of a gaze, Meng Xuran glanced over.
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‎Bo Mingyan spoke just then: “Noodles are ready.”
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‎As if she’d only just arrived to deliver the message.
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‎Meng Xuran blinked, then nodded. “Okay.” She trailed Bo Mingyan to the kitchen with practiced nonchalance.
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‎On the counter sat a bowl of noodles smothered in tomato-and-egg sauce, its sweet-tangy aroma tantalizing even from a distance.
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‎”Take the noodles to the table. I’ll bring the broth.” Bo Mingyan retrieved a pair of chopsticks and a spoon, handing them over.
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‎”Aren’t you eating with me?” Meng Xuran asked, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
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‎Bo Mingyan’s eyes flickered. “I already had dinner.”
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‎Meng Xuran pursed her lips and lifted the bowl. When she noticed Bo Mingyan’s inscrutable stare still fixed on her, she frowned. “What’s with the look?”
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‎Bo Mingyan’s gaze shifted to the pot. She ladled broth into an empty bowl before finally voicing the question: “How old are you? Need company to eat?”
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‎”…”
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‎Meng Xuran sucked in a breath, cheeks puffing as she stirred her noodles aggressively, mentally reciting “Don’t lose your temper to self-soothe.”
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‎By the time she reached the table, the noodles were evenly mixed. Watching Bo Mingyan set down the broth, she muttered, “Eating alone is lonely.”
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‎Bo Mingyan opened her mouth, then closed it. She’d been about to retort, You didn’t seem lonely eating instant noodles alone before, but then she remembered their first encounter—Meng Xuran hiccuping through tears over a cup of ramen.
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‎Maybe it was lonely.
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‎She couldn’t eat another full portion, and she hadn’t made extra anyway.
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‎After a pause, Bo Mingyan conceded, “Then I’ll have some broth.”
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‎Meng Xuran’s eyes lit up.
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‎As if fearing Bo Mingyan might renege if she went back to the kitchen, Meng Xuran immediately slid the broth bowl toward her. “Here.”
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‎Bo Mingyan blinked. “What about you?”
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‎”I’ll get my own.”
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‎Meng Xuran dashed off and returned just as quickly, though she settled into her seat with deliberate calm.
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‎The broth was scalding. Bo Mingyan blew on a half-spoonful before sipping. Across from her, Meng Xuran ate with refined efficiency, though her straight, ink-black hair kept slipping over her shoulders, forcing her to tuck it behind her ears repeatedly.
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‎Bo Mingyan suddenly remembered—Meng Xuran’s hair tie was currently holding her hair up. She reached to remove it, only to see Meng Xuran produce another from her pocket.
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‎This one was ornate: three loops of black cord strung with South Sea pearls shaped into tiny planets and 18k gold star charms.
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‎A new release from her father’s company, Fantsy.
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‎A four-digit price tag for a hair tie.
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‎Fitting for a pampered princess, but not for her.
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‎Bo Mingyan wondered if the one in her hair was equally extravagant. She raised her hand again to take it off.
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‎Meng Xuran, now with her hair secured, glanced over and abruptly said, “I’ll clean up later.”
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‎Distracted, Bo Mingyan lowered her hand and picked up the broth bowl instead. “Mm.” She finished the remaining soup.
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‎”By the way, did you prepare all the materials for tomorrow?” Meng Xuran asked.
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‎Bo Mingyan nodded, the hair tie matter slipping her mind again.
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‎Meng Xuran mirrored the nod. “The driver’s picking us up at 8:30. Set your alarm—don’t oversleep.”
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‎”Got it.” Bo Mingyan stood. “I’ll head back now.”
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‎”Thanks for the meal. Sleep well.” Meng Xuran’s words were unhurried as she began clearing the table.
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‎Bo Mingyan glanced up, silent for two beats. “You too.”
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‎Carrying the scent of cooking oil and having drunk broth, Bo Mingyan grabbed fresh clothes, planning to brush her teeth and shower again.
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‎As she entered the bathroom, Meng Xuran emerged from the kitchen.
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‎Meng Xuran’s steps faltered. Her gaze skimmed over Bo Mingyan’s tied-up hair before she strode into her room without a backward glance.
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‎Inside the shower, after brushing her teeth, Bo Mingyan tugged off her pullover. When her hand bumped the charm on the hair tie, she finally remembered it again.
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‎She took it off.
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‎Sure enough, it matched Meng Xuran’s—except the charm was a moon instead of a star.
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‎I’ll return it after my shower.
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‎She laid a tissue on the sink and carefully placed the hair tie atop it.
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‎Post-shower, Bo Mingyan checked her phone while walking out. A red dot hovered over the Moments icon. Tapping in, she saw a new post from Meng Xuran, shared an hour ago—back when she hadn’t yet returned home.
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‎[Difficult to Handle] So tired I could die, so hungry I could die… I really miss my Xiao Man.”
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‎Bo Mingyan’s gaze drifted toward the master bedroom door. Not a sliver of light escaped from beneath it.
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‎No telling what Meng Xuran was doing inside—maybe already asleep.
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‎Fingering the pearls on the hair tie, Bo Mingyan dismissed the thought of knocking.
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‎Back in her room, she tucked the hair tie into the outer pocket of her travel bag.
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‎The next morning, Bo Mingyan discovered the cat’s food bowl had been replaced with an automatic feeder, and the fish feeder was activated too.
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‎But the person responsible for these adjustments had barricaded herself inside her room, silent as a tomb.
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‎After getting ready, Bo Mingyan brewed oatmeal in the kitchen and leaned against the counter, scrolling through news on her tablet while waiting for her perpetually tardy housemate.
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‎8:22 AM. Meng Xuran finally emerged, phone in hand, texting the driver.
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‎She skidded to a halt mid-stride when passing the kitchen.
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‎Bo Mingyan stood with casual elegance in a smoke-gray tailored suit, her head bent over the tablet, gold-framed glasses perched on her nose, chain links swaying lazily.
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‎An arresting sight, impossible to look away from.
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‎”Time to go?” Hearing footsteps, Bo Mingyan stuffed the tablet into her bag and carried her cup to the sink, rinsing it without turning.
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‎”Now.” Meng Xuran pocketed her phone. “Driver’s entering the complex.”
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‎From the sound of it, Meng Xuran was heading for the entryway.
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‎Bo Mingyan set down the cup and snagged two energy bars and a chocolate from the snack rack, stuffing them into her bag’s outer pocket.
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‎At the doorway, Meng Xuran stood tapping her lips, staring at a pair of beige pointed-toe heels but not putting them on, seemingly conflicted.
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‎Bo Mingyan noticed Meng Xuran had a penchant for cheongsams.
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‎Today’s was white with embossed patterns, its wide sleeves flattering her slender frame. With her waterfall of dark hair, she exuded understated grace.
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‎Bo Mingyan finished changing shoes. Seeing Meng Xuran still hesitating, she remarked, “They match, don’t they?”
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‎”They do. But they demand a bl00d sacrifice.” Meng Xuran sighed. “And they’re exhausting to wear long-term.”
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‎”…”
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‎Conclusion: vain, spoiled, and overly dramatic.
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‎”Then bring flats to change into.” Bo Mingyan suggested.
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‎”Then I’d have to carry the heels around when I’m not wearing them.” Meng Xuran drawled, “or carry the flats after changing.”
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‎Bo Mingyan’s eyes flicked to Meng Xuran’s exposed toes, which wriggled slightly. She lifted her gaze to find Meng Xuran biting her lip, lashes fluttering, looking at her with blatant expectation.
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‎Bo Mingyan pretended not to grasp the hint. “So?”
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‎So it’s a hassle—carry them for me?
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‎Meng Xuran’s lips twisted. With an inaudible sigh, she swiftly stepped into the heels and fastened the straps.
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‎As she bent over, her gaze landed on Bo Mingyan’s feet.
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‎Also in heels.
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‎Distracted, Meng Xuran wobbled upon standing. Bo Mingyan instinctively reached out to steady her.
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‎She’d meant to grab an arm, but Meng Xuran, fearing a fall, immediately looped her arms around Bo Mingyan’s neck. Consequently, Bo Mingyan’s hands landed naturally at Meng Xuran’s waist.
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‎In the tangle of limbs, they collided flush against each other.
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‎The embossed fabric textured under Bo Mingyan’s palms, Meng Xuran’s waist slender enough to span with her hands.
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‎Meng Xuran’s breath hitched, her exhales warm against Bo Mingyan’s neck. The rise and fall of her chest was unmistakable.
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‎A frantic heartbeat—whose, it was impossible to tell.
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‎Bo Mingyan held her breath, throat bobbing. Her fingers twitched, then she released Meng Xuran’s waist as if scalded.
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‎”Thanks~” Meng Xuran withdrew simultaneously, smoothing her dress without meeting Bo Mingyan’s eyes. “Let’s go. The car’s probably downstairs.”
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‎Bo Mingyan watched her retreating back, exhaling slowly. She adjusted her glasses, turned to lock the door, and took a moment to steady herself.
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‎Ahead, Meng Xuran rubbed her damp palms together, patted her flushed cheeks, and forcibly smoothed her traitorous smile before Bo Mingyan could catch up.