Two Faced Lover - Chapter 21

21: Gift

Before Bo Mingyan could react, Meng Xuran withdrew and sat on the other side of the low table.

Feigning tears, acting coy, admitting fault—this routine flowed from her effortlessly, like clouds drifting across water.

“…”

Bo Mingyan exhaled almost imperceptibly.

The entire episode had been brief, yet it somehow felt drawn out, elongated.

Even Meng Xuran’s well-timed retreat left behind a peculiar, hollow sensation.

It always seemed to be this way—whenever Bo Mingyan wanted to step back, Meng Xuran would always be one step ahead, putting distance between them first.

Bo Mingyan picked up the mineral water from the table, unscrewed the cap, and took several gulps before asking, “Do you always apologize like this?”

If this was just her usual way, then it wasn’t so strange. But if she acted like this with everyone, it would feel uncomfortably boundary-less.

“Apologize?” Meng Xuran, ever prideful, corrected her. “At most, it’s called coaxing.”

“Oh…” Bo Mingyan amended her question. “Then do you coax others like this too?”

“No.” Meng Xuran propped her chin in her hand, half-lidded eyes lazily scrolling through nearby restaurant options on her phone. “Only with you.”

Bo Mingyan’s fingers paused on the bottle cap. She looked at Meng Xuran.

“No one else dares to throw tantrums with me like you do,” Meng Xuran continued, swiping across her screen as if oblivious to her gaze. “Hey, do you always act up like this?”

“Act up?” Bo Mingyan defended herself. “Weren’t you the one who told me to shut up?”

“You’re so obedient.” Meng Xuran remarked.

Bo Mingyan parried smoothly: “Well, it was an order from my superior.”

“Then were you this obedient with your previous bosses too?” Meng Xuran’s striking peach-blossom eyes narrowed slightly.

Bo Mingyan’s brows furrowed. After a brief pause, she said, “No. Only with you.”

Meng Xuran’s gaze had been fixed on her all along. Her eyelids twitched, her pupils shimmering faintly. “Why only with me?”

“Because you’re the only one with such a temper.”

Meng Xuran parted her lips to argue, but Bo Mingyan had already turned to look out the window.

Night had fallen. The city’s lights flickered on one by one, illuminating the streets below.

“But… It feels genuine. Not so hypocritical.” Bo Mingyan’s voice was soft, the usual chill in her tone dissipating like a breeze lifting the curtains, revealing a hint of warmth beneath.

On any other day, with anyone else, Meng Xuran would have shamelessly seized the opportunity to praise herself. But as she studied Bo Mingyan’s profile, she fell into a rare silence, suddenly unwilling to speak.

After a brief lull, Bo Mingyan turned back and announced, “I’m hungry.”

Deadpan. Strangely endearing.

The corners of Meng Xuran’s lips curled up bit by bit. She spun her phone halfway around and slid it toward Bo Mingyan. “Do you want Nanyang cuisine, Cantonese, or Japanese?”

Bo Mingyan skimmed the options. “What do you feel like?”

“I’m fine with anything.”

Unable to decide, Bo Mingyan proposed, “Then let’s play rock-paper-scissors. If you win, we’ll have Nanyang. If I win, Cantonese. A tie means Japanese.”

It was unexpected—someone as outwardly gentle yet inwardly aloof as Bo Mingyan would suggest something so playful.

Meng Xuran blinked in surprise for two seconds before muttering, “Childish.” Then, without missing a beat, she chanted, “Rock, paper, scissors—shoot!”

Bo Mingyan made a fist.

Meng Xuran spread her fingers into a flat palm.

“Aha~” Meng Xuran grinned.

Bo Mingyan couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh from deep in her throat. Teasing, she said, “I thought you said it was—”

Before she could finish, Meng Xuran suddenly reached over and covered Bo Mingyan’s still-clenched fist with her own—not just resting it there, but curling her fingers around it briefly.

“That’s not the point. The point is, I won.” Meng Xuran withdrew her hand, grabbing her phone from the table as she stood. “Let’s go. Nanyang cuisine~”

Her long hair swayed at her waist with each step.

Like willow branches brushing against the surface of Bo Mingyan’s heart, ripples spreading in their wake.

Bo Mingyan flexed her fingers slightly before silently following.

Perhaps it was genuine hunger, or perhaps it was Meng Xuran’s inexplicably buoyant mood rubbing off on her, but Bo Mingyan found herself eating more than usual.

After dinner, the two strolled leisurely along the pedestrian walkway outside the restaurant, letting their meal settle.

Shops of all kinds lined the street.

Before long, Meng Xuran declared she was tired and veered into a boutique. Bo Mingyan lagged behind, her gaze flickering to the back of Meng Xuran’s heels—red and raw.

Inside the shop, Meng Xuran browsed for a while before buying two pairs of slippers.

Bo Mingyan was puzzled. “Why two pairs?”

Didn’t she hate carrying extra weight? And those rubber clogs weren’t exactly stylish.

“One’s for you.” Meng Xuran turned to her with a smile. “High heels are exhausting.”

Bo Mingyan’s lashes trembled slightly. “I’m fine.”

“Then consider it keeping me company.” Meng Xuran waved it off, sitting on a bench by a flower bed and handing her the other bag. “It’d be awkward if I were the only one wearing them.”

Bo Mingyan sat beside her. “…I’ll transfer you the money.”

“No need. It’s a gift.” Meng Xuran bent to change her shoes, her gaze skimming over Bo Mingyan’s wrist. “The hair tie too. That’s also a gift.”

“…” Bo Mingyan was taken aback. “Why give me these?”

“Gifts are just things you give because you feel like it. Do they need a reason?”

“They do.” Bo Mingyan’s tone was flat. “I don’t like accepting things casually.”

Meng Xuran pressed her lips together. “Then give me a second to think. I’ll make one up on the spot.”

Bo Mingyan: “…”

Twisting to inspect her battered heels, Meng Xuran clicked her tongue. “The price of vanity.”

Bo Mingyan couldn’t help but chuckle at her self-deprecation.

But her amusement was short-lived.

“Ah, I’ve got it.” Meng Xuran turned to her with pitiful puppy-dog eyes. “Since I gave you a gift… could you carry me back?”

“…”

Bo Mingyan eyed her skirt.

Following her gaze, Meng Xuran looked down, then back up. “Or… a princess carry?”