Two Faced Lover - Chapter 22

22: Peach

“…Carry you back?” Bo Mingyan repeated slowly.

A princess carry, no less?

This was hardly a gift—it was more like a hot potato.

Perhaps Bo Mingyan’s stunned expression was too amusing, because after staring at her for a while, Meng Xuran couldn’t hold back anymore. She turned her head away, laughing so hard that the earrings dangling from her ears swayed slightly.

Bo Mingyan kept a straight face and coughed lightly, pretending to remove the hair tie from her wrist.

“I was joking,” Meng Xuran turned back to look at her, then paused before tucking her hands behind her back and muttering, “I already gave it to you, so don’t try to return it.”

Her voice was soft, and her eyes instantly reddened, as if she were about to cry in the next second.

One moment she was laughing, the next she could conjure up teary eyes—what a shame she didn’t go into acting.

Bo Mingyan’s fingers paused on the hair tie. She swallowed back the words “I never said I wanted to return it” and instead said tactfully, “This is too expensive. I can’t accept it.”

“It’s not expensive,” Meng Xuran said. “Just a few hundred.”

Bo Mingyan lowered her head and tapped on her phone screen, pulling up the official FTANSY website’s listing for the hair tie and showing it to Meng Xuran. “Official price: 3,399.”

“Mhm,” Meng Xuran pushed her phone away. “This was a sample from production, flawed. My sister took two, and I took two. If you really want to calculate the cost, it’d be based on the production price, not this much.”

A few hundred sold for several thousand—Bo Mingyan said bluntly, “That’s pretty shady.”

“…” Meng Xuran lightly kicked her, then let out a soft laugh.

The gesture was unexpectedly intimate, and Bo Mingyan, for once, didn’t feel annoyed. Seeing Meng Xuran laugh, ripples of amusement also surfaced in her eyes.

Bo Mingyan bent down to switch from high heels to slippers and asked casually, “How much is ‘a few hundred’?”

Meng Xuran: “Why do you need to know so precisely?”

Bo Mingyan was frank: “So I can prepare something of equal value to repay you.”

Meng Xuran’s smile faltered slightly: “I don’t need you to repay me.” After a pause, she added, “When others give you things, do you also think about settling the debt immediately?”

“If others give me things, I usually don’t accept them. If I have no choice but to take something, I’ll repay it promptly to avoid unnecessary entanglements.”

Bo Mingyan’s tone was devoid of emotion, and her words came off as particularly cold.

“Have no choice but to accept”—Meng Xuran pressed her lips together and gritted her teeth.

Bo Mingyan couldn’t think of how to repay Meng Xuran, so she simply asked directly: “What do you want?”

“What I want…” Meng Xuran turned her head, her gaze fixed on Bo Mingyan. Her eyes were like pools of water, shimmering with reflections of city lights, mirroring Bo Mingyan’s figure.

Bo Mingyan leaned forward slightly, one hand resting on the seat beside her, her eyes half-lidded as she studied the kitten pattern on her slippers.

When no answer came, Bo Mingyan tilted her head toward Meng Xuran.

Meng Xuran averted her eyes, crossed her legs, and tilted her foot, examining the back of her heel, which looked even more painful than before. “I want to go back and sleep.”

“…”

Was this a hint to be carried back?

Bo Mingyan’s gaze traveled up from Meng Xuran’s foot to her eyes and said carefully, “I might not be able to carry you.”

“…I already said I was joking. Who wants you to carry me? Wait—” Meng Xuran abruptly changed the subject. “I’m 166 cm tall and weigh 45 kg. You can’t carry me?”

Given their current not-so-close relationship, even if Bo Mingyan could carry her, she wouldn’t.

But Bo Mingyan didn’t voice that reason. Instead, she analyzed earnestly: “In our line of work, overtime is the norm, and free time is scarce.”

“So?” Meng Xuran countered.

“So, no time to exercise,” Bo Mingyan said leisurely. “I’m pretty weak.”

“…”

Meng Xuran’s expression instantly turned peculiar. She let out a soft “tsk” lowered her head, bit her lip, and tapped her fingers lightly on the seat.

Seeing her like this, Bo Mingyan racked her brain and found two fitting words—

Worried sick.

What could she be so worried about? How to get back to the hotel?

Bo Mingyan sighed, stood up, picked up the two shoe bags with her left hand, and extended her right hand toward Meng Xuran. “Let’s go back.”

This pedestrian street was one of the busiest commercial areas in Shen City, retaining many century-old buildings. Even at 9 PM, the crowd was still dense.

The surroundings were noisy and bustling, more lively than during the day.

But Meng Xuran only heard Bo Mingyan’s five words clearly and only saw the hand in front of her.

Pale, slender fingers, a delicate wrist adorned with the hair tie she’d gifted. The evening breeze ruffled the hair tie, making the moon charm sway gently before Meng Xuran’s eyes.

Meng Xuran’s lips curved into a bright smile. She placed her hand in Bo Mingyan’s and, once standing, naturally looped her arm around Bo Mingyan’s, hugging it close.

It was still hot in September, and their clothes were thin. Bo Mingyan could clearly feel Meng Xuran’s body warmth and the curves of her figure.

Warm. Soft…

Bo Mingyan wasn’t used to such intimate contact. Her intention had only been to offer a hand for support.

She hadn’t expected Meng Xuran to cling to her like this.

The hair ties on their wrists brushed against each other, the pearls clinking softly.

The sound sent a tingle straight to her heart.

Bo Mingyan’s hand stiffened like wood. She swallowed twice, unsure how to respond.

Forget it. Just walk back quickly.

But as soon as she quickened her pace, Meng Xuran whined, “Slow down, slow down. My foot hurts.”

Meng Xuran’s heel hurt whenever it touched the ground, forcing her to walk on tiptoe. Half of her body leaned against Bo Mingyan’s arm.

With each limping step, the friction between them intensified.

Heat traveled from Bo Mingyan’s arm straight to her head.

She wondered if it was the friction generating heat—enough to make her unbearable.

Even the flat road felt arduous.

A walk that should’ve taken just over ten minutes seemed to stretch into an eternity.

Meng Xuran seemed to be in high spirits. The evening wind tousled her long hair, and she casually tucked it behind her ear, humming along to a street performer’s song.

Her voice was melodious and sweet.

She walked with a slight bounce, like a charm dangling from Bo Mingyan’s arm.

Bo Mingyan glanced to her right.

Her restless mood settled.

She suddenly remembered sunbathing in the courtyard years ago, watching Lightning and Little Fox saunter back home.

Little Fox’s fluffy tail would lightly brush against Lightning’s body. Under the golden sunlight, that tail looked like a flickering flame—warm and comforting.

This moment felt just like that. Strange yet soothing.

She felt at peace, as if time was leisurely drifting by.

Back at the hotel, they caught the elevator just in time. As Bo Mingyan reached to press the button—

“Bo Mingyan?”

Both Bo Mingyan and Meng Xuran turned to look.

A young man, tall, slim, and fair-skinned, stood there with a girl around his age clinging to his arm.

He Chencheng.

Though they hadn’t seen each other in over a decade, his appearance hadn’t changed much. Bo Mingyan recognized that detestable face instantly.

Meng Xuran noticed Bo Mingyan’s body stiffening—even more so than when she’d looped her arm through hers earlier.

Bo Mingyan withdrew her arm from Meng Xuran’s grip, took off her glasses, and folded them into her pocket.

The sudden emptiness in her arms made Meng Xuran freeze.

“You know these two aunties?” The girl clinging to He Chencheng asked in a saccharine, jealous tone.

Aunties.

Meng Xuran’s mood, already sour, worsened at the end. She lifted her chin and glared down at the girl with palpable disdain.

The girl immediately averted her eyes, cowed.

Pathetic, Meng Xuran thought.

He Chencheng ignored the girl, his gaze fixed on Bo Mingyan. “When did you return to the country?”

Bo Mingyan frowned.

He Chencheng pressed, “Does Mom know?”

The word Mom rolled off his tongue effortlessly. Bo Mingyan remembered how He Chencheng used to throw tantrums, calling Lin Huixin a witch. At best, he’d refer to her as Auntie.

“Do I need your permission to return?” Bo Mingyan’s voice was icy, sharp as a dagger.

The elevator doors opened.

Bo Mingyan lightly tapped Meng Xuran’s forearm. “Aren’t we leaving?” Her tone was several degrees warmer.

“Leave? We’re not at our floor yet.”

Meng Xuran smirked, gripping Bo Mingyan’s wrist and pulling her closer as she pressed the elevator button for their floor.

She glanced at He Chencheng, her brows slightly raised, exuding an air of aloof nobility.

The floors above were luxury suites.

Though Meng Xuran said nothing, her indifferent gaze spoke volumes—she looked down on them.

For a moment, He Chencheng felt as if he were staring at Bo Mingyan from over a decade ago, in another elevator, under the same disdainful gaze.

Bo Mingyan’s eyes, more beautiful than the marbles he used to play with, had held the same quiet contempt.

He hated that look.

“Birds of a feather flock together.” He Chencheng muttered, dragging the girl out of the elevator.

“Of course, Excellence attracts excellence.” Meng Xuran retorted, her voice clear and proud, like a queen.

He Chencheng turned back, but the elevator doors had already closed.

With fewer people inside, the air felt lighter.

Meng Xuran flicked the hair draped over her shoulder and scoffed softly.

Bo Mingyan glanced at her. “No need to engage with him.”

“I felt like it.” Meng Xuran said, raising an eyebrow.

She was usually reserved around strangers, sparing with words.

Unless she was in a bad mood.

“Was it because of what that girl called you?” Bo Mingyan had noticed Meng Xuran glaring at her earlier.

“…Petty comments from irrelevant people don’t affect me.” Meng Xuran said calmly.

Bo Mingyan was certain Meng Xuran wasn’t upset about the term. Her gaze drifted to Meng Xuran’s hand, still wrapped around her wrist, and recalled how she’d pulled away before the girl spoke.

Was that the reason?

Bo Mingyan flexed her fingers slightly and ventured, “Then what’s bothering you?”

Meng Xuran’s brows twitched.

The elevator doors opened.

Meng Xuran shifted her foot—her heel still ached faintly.

“My foot hurts.” she said, latching onto Bo Mingyan’s arm again. She eyed the long hallway ahead and sighed theatrically. “Ugh, why is this corridor so long?”

The regal aura from earlier dissipated, leaving behind the spoiled little princess.

Bo Mingyan’s lips quirked up unnoticed. “Just a few more steps.”

Without realizing it, her tone had softened, carrying a hint of indulgence.

Back in their room, Meng Xuran headed straight for the shower. Bo Mingyan dug out the iodine swabs and band-aids she always carried and placed them on the nightstand before settling onto the windowsill.

Just as she picked up her phone, Bo Mingyan received a call from Lin Huixin.

Bo Mingyan popped a strawberry-flavored candy into her mouth and answered.

No greeting, just a direct question: “Chencheng said you’re back in the country. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Bo Mingyan’s mind blanked.

Perhaps because of the earlier encounter with He Chencheng, Lin Huixin’s words dredged up long-buried memories.

After Lin Huixin married He Ying, she moved Bo Mingyan into the He household.

Back then, He Chencheng was still in elementary school—young but already a nightmare.

He’d tumble down the stairs and blame Bo Mingyan. He’d come home late and claim Bo Mingyan had lured him into an alley to get him lost. He’d refuse to do homework and accuse Bo Mingyan of tearing up his assignments.

And Lin Huixin’s first response was always the same: “Chencheng says you bullied him. Why would you do that?”

As if it were fact.

Young and proud, Bo Mingyan refused to explain when her mother didn’t trust her.

No matter how Lin Huixin pressed, she’d grit her teeth and stay silent, bottling up her grievances.

She couldn’t understand why Lin Huixin would believe an outsider over her own daughter.

Even an online gaming friend—a stranger she’d never met—had once said, “I believe you wouldn’t do that.”

He Chencheng had always been a tattletale. His exaggerated complaints to his grandparents escalated tensions until the elderly couple opposed the marriage. But Lin Huixin was determined to marry He Ying.

So, to compromise, Lin Huixin sent Bo Mingyan abroad.

Bo Mingyan still remembered that day—the first time she’d seen Lin Huixin cry.

“Uncle He is my salvation. My life has been too hard. Can’t you let me have this happiness?”

She also remembered Bo Weize’s final words: “I failed your mother. She’s suffered enough. If she finds someone good, don’t stand in her way. Let her be happy.”

Her heart softened. She agreed.

But no one had told her that her mother’s happiness would come at the cost of her own suffering.

Years of bitterness that no amount of candy could sweeten.

…

“Manman?” Lin Huixin’s voice snapped her back.

Bo Mingyan realized she’d been silent. She hummed in acknowledgment and said coolly, “I’m 28 now.”

Lin Huixin fell silent.

At 28, she was long past the age where she needed to report everything to her parents.

Lin Huixin belatedly realized that Bo Mingyan had stopped sharing the details of her life long ago. She couldn’t even pinpoint when it had started.

Bo Mingyan chuckled. “If I’d told you, would you have come to pick me up?”

“Of course!” Lin Huixin seized the opening. “I would’ve come to get you.”

“Where would you have picked me up?” Bo Mingyan swirled the candy on her tongue.

“From…” Lin Huixin hesitated. She didn’t even know where Bo Mingyan worked. “From the UK, of course.”

Silence.

Bo Mingyan swallowed the candy, the sweetness doing nothing to mask the bitterness welling up inside.

If you’d ever cared enough to visit me… you’d have known I left the UK years ago.

Bo Mingyan crunched the candy between her teeth.

“Lao Bo~”

Meng Xuran’s voice floated from the bathroom—ethereal, breathy, the last syllable drawn out so long that “Bo” almost sounded like “Po” (wife).

Lin Huixin: “You—”

“I’m busy. Bye.”

Bo Mingyan hung up, stood, and took two steps toward the bathroom. “What is it?”

“I forgot my towel, robe, and… um…” Meng Xuran stammered. “Underwear. It’s in my bag, in the floral zippered pouch.”

How did you even remember to bring yourself in here to shower?

Bo Mingyan: “Got it.”

The pouches were all brightly patterned, making it impossible to tell their contents from the outside. Bo Mingyan had to open each one to check.

One pouch contained panties—black lace, tie-side.

Bo Mingyan blinked.

She knew it was wrong to judge, but she hadn’t expected Meng Xuran to prefer this style.

Wordlessly, Bo Mingyan zipped the pouch back up, grabbed the ones holding the towel and robe, and headed to the bathroom.

The tiled floor was slippery with water.

Bo Mingyan paused, spotting a trail of wet footprints leading from the door to the shower.

The frosted glass door was steamed up, the silhouette inside blurred by condensation.

Did she come out naked? Did she hear my call?

The door cracked open, releasing a wave of steam as Meng Xuran peeked out. “Lao Bo~ Thanks.”

Bo Mingyan pushed aside her thoughts and approached. “Don’t call me that.”

Somehow, the way Meng Xuran said it made “Lao Bo” sound like “wife.”

“Then what should I call you?” Meng Xuran asked.

Bo Mingyan: “My full name.”

Meng Xuran: “Too stiff.”

Bo Mingyan wasn’t sure what alternative would work. “Just not that.”

Meng Xuran mused: “Mingyan~ Yanyan~ Or do you prefer sister? Or some other nickname?”

Bo Mingyan handed her the bag without expression.

Meng Xuran wisely shut up, though her lips quirked up stubbornly.

The gap was too narrow, so Meng Xuran pushed the door wider.

It swung open halfway.

Bo Mingyan’s long lashes fluttered.

Meng Xuran’s skin, already flushed pink from the steam, deepened to a vivid red. Even her eyes glazed over with embarrassment.

The atmosphere froze.

Steam billowed from the shower, thickening the air. The temperature—both in the room and within them—climbed, stifling.

A droplet fell from the showerhead.

Meng Xuran reacted first.

But not in the expected way. Most people would grab the bag and slam the door shut.

Meng Xuran covered her face and spun around instead.

Giving Bo Mingyan a full view of her back.

“…”

Bo Mingyan feigned composure and shut the door, her face burning.

It’s fine. We’re both girls. Seeing each other naked isn’t a big deal.

Back when she lived abroad, her foreign roommate would often stride out of the shower naked. Some close friends even playfully groped each other.

Perfectly normal.

Bo Mingyan closed her eyes, took a deep breath to steady herself, and strode to the windowsill, grabbing a bottle of water from the coffee table.

She drank half the bottle in one go, the cold liquid dousing the heat inside.

“I’m done. You can shower now.”

Meng Xuran emerged from the bathroom, hair dryer in hand. Her robe parted slightly, revealing long, slender legs, the knees tinged a soft pink.

“Okay.”

Bo Mingyan averted her gaze and downed the rest of the water before tossing the empty bottle into the trash.

“Are these for me?” Meng Xuran spotted the iodine swabs on the nightstand.

“Yeah.” Bo Mingyan reminded her, “Use them.”

Meng Xuran’s eyes lit up. “Thanks~”

“Don’t mention it.”

After triple-checking she had everything, Bo Mingyan finally entered the bathroom.

The shower was still misty with steam.

Bo Mingyan stood under the spray, eyes closed, hot water turning her skin pink.

Every time she shut her eyes, Meng Xuran’s figure flashed through her mind.

Glossy droplets trailing down delicate collarbones, clinging to peach-ripe curves, sliding over a flat stomach…

And that final turn—the smooth back, the elegant spine, the narrow waist.

And the twin dimples just above the waistline…

Damn it.

Bo Mingyan’s eyes flew open. Water streamed down her face as she raised a hand to wipe it away, dragging her fingers through her hair.

It’s natural to appreciate beauty. Recalling a nice figure is normal.

She repeated this to herself like a mantra, but the more she tried to suppress the thoughts, the more they flooded back.

Finally, Bo Mingyan turned the water to cold and finished her shower in icy discomfort.

Post-shower, the steam had dissipated. Bo Mingyan stepped out, towel-drying her hair, applied lotion, and opened the cabinet under the sink.

Empty.

She remembered—Meng Xuran had taken the hair dryer out.

The whir of the dryer reached her ears from outside. Bo Mingyan paused mid-step.

By the bed, Meng Xuran tilted her head, her waterfall of hair cascading over one shoulder like fine silk. But the dryer wasn’t aimed at her hair—it was pointed at the bed.

Bo Mingyan approached. “What’s going on?”

The sheets near the pillow were soaked.

The dryer was too loud. Meng Xuran couldn’t hear her and turned it off. “What?”

“Why is the bed wet?” Bo Mingyan asked.

“Spilled water,” Meng Xuran explained, eyes downcast. “The cap wasn’t on properly. I knocked it over by accident.”

Bo Mingyan lifted the sheets-even the mattress pad was drenched. Meng Xuran must’ve barely taken a sip before dumping the entire bottle onto the bed.

Using the dryer would take forever.

It was already late, and both were in thin robes-calling hotel staff to change the bedding wasn’t an option.

Meng Xuran had probably considered this, hence the improvised drying attempt.

“This’ll take ages,” Meng Xuran murmured, running her fingers over the dryer handle. She glanced pitifully at Bo Mingyan, then let her gaze drift meaningfully to the other bed. “I’m exhausted.”

A clear hint.

Bo Mingyan hesitated. She disliked sharing personal space, especially a bed.

The alternative was letting Meng Xuran have the bed while she took the couch. But before she could suggest it, she felt a gaze settle on her face.

Bo Mingyan looked up to find Meng Xuran biting her lower lip, her peach-blossom eyes glistening with unshed tears as she stared pleadingly.

Meng Xuran struck first: “Can I sleep with you?”

The unspoken threat was clear: Refuse, and I’ll cry.

Bo Mingyan studied Meng Xuran’s nervous, pitiful expression and felt a pang of sympathy.

She remembered herself as a child, stepping into the He household for the first time.

That first night, she’d asked Lin Huixin timidly if they could sleep together.

Lin Huixin had refused.

That night, He Chencheng poured water on her bed. She’d curled up in a dry corner and cried silently.

Looking back, Lin Huixin’s attitude toward her had always been erratic-sometimes warm, sometimes distant, occasionally even recoiling from physical contact.

But no rejection had cut as deep as that night.

Seeing Bo Mingyan silent, Meng Xuran pressed on: “I sleep like a log. No snoring, no sleep-talking, no teeth-grinding, no blanket-hogging. Like Sleeping Beauty-utterly still.”

Sleeping Beauty? Bo Mingyan nearly laughed. “I’m a restless sleeper” she warned.

Was that a yes? Meng Xuran beamed. “I don’t mind~”

“Get in bed first. I’ll dry my hair.” Bo Mingyan unplugged the dryer.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Meng Xuran practically skip to the other bed, her joy unmistakable.

In the bathroom, Bo Mingyan aimlessly dried her hair while scrolling through her phone.

He Chencheng had sent a friend request ten minutes ago. Bo Mingyan neither accepted nor rejected it, leaving it pending. She disabled all friend-adding options.

A notification popped up. She tapped it.

The Eight Immortals group chat was as lively as ever.

Ava: “That new designer next door is so cute. Today in the break room, I asked what she was drinking-some smoothie thing. She gave me two packets!”

Liu Yang: “You think anyone who feeds you is cute.”

Ava: “Not if it’s you. I’d just assume you’re a creep with ulterior motives.”

Zhu Lijia: “Rumor has it that designer is connected to Manager Sun.”

Ava: “!! I thought so too! I’ve seen them leave together a few times. Seems fishy.”

Hu Liuri: “[Question] How can you tell?”

Ava: “Her watch matches Manager Sun’s!”

Liu Yang: “Here we go again with your ‘clues.’ My watch matches his too…”

Ava: “Whatever.”

Ava: “BTW! Bo Mingyan how’s the business trip? Get the autograph?”

Bo Mingyan typed back: “Fine. Got the signature, Zhou Wenlin.”

Zhou Wenlin: “Thanks, Xiao Bo [rose].”

Ava: “Bo Mingyan, any updates on whether the Little Boss is dating? Any couple items? Does she glow while texting? Sound all lovey-dovey on calls?”

Does a hair tie count? Probably not, since the matching half had been casually gifted to her. Meng Xuran rarely checked her phone around Bo Mingyan, let alone gazed at it adoringly.

Outside work, she was decidedly un-boss-like-just two sides of her personality.

The hot air concentrated in one spot began to burn. Bo Mingyan turned off the dryer and replied: “No.”

Whether that meant no observations or no relationship was unclear.

The group exploded with speculation.

Bo Mingyan had no interest in continuing. She locked her screen.

After lingering in the bathroom, she finally stepped out. Meng Xuran was sitting on the bed near the windowsill, sketching on her iPad with an Apple Pencil.

Her bangs fell forward as she tucked them behind her ear. Without makeup, her face was fresh and elegant, radiating noble grace.

As a mixed-race child, Bo Mingyan had received countless compliments growing up. But personally, she preferred Meng Xuran’s looks.

Like a white peony-uniquely Eastern in its delicate, refined beauty.

As long as she doesn’t speak.

And right on cue, the peony spoke.

“Coming to bed?” Meng Xuran scooted over.

An innocent question, but Meng Xuran’s voice had a unique lilt, the tail end curling like a hook, paired with those smiling peach-blossom eyes.

It sent a shiver down Bo Mingyan’s spine, as if fingers had trailed up her back to trace her ears in slow circles.

Tingly. Tempting.

“Later.” Bo Mingyan walked to the minibar. “Want water?”

“No.” Meng Xuran said.

She’d already sacrificed a whole bottle to the bed gods.

Bo Mingyan withdrew her hand from the second bottle, taking only one for herself. The cold liquid soothed her nerves.

She set the bottle on the coffee table and approached the bed.

Seeing Meng Xuran put away her iPad, Bo Mingyan removed her glasses. “Lights out.”

“Go ahead.” Meng Xuran slid under the covers.

The room plunged into darkness.

Bo Mingyan lifted the blanket and lay on her side, clinging to the edge.

Behind her, the self-proclaimed “Sleeping Beauty” tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable.

Bo Mingyan rolled onto her other side, facing Meng Xuran.

They lay face-to-face in the dark.

“Can’t sleep, let’s talk.” Meng Xuran said suddenly.

“About what?” Bo Mingyan wasn’t tired either. “You pick.”

“That guy in the elevator,” Meng Xuran asked, “your brother?”

Bo Mingyan frowned slightly. “Why would you think that?”

“Younger, and the way he…” Meng Xuran searched for words, “referred to your mom.”

Bo Mingyan’s lashes trembled. “No.”

Not a brother? Yet he’d asked “Does Mom know?” so familiarly.

Meng Xuran’s voice dropped. “Don’t tell me he’s an ex.”

“…” Bo Mingyan wondered if Meng Xuran’s brain had been waterlogged.

She sighed and explained patiently: “He’s my mom’s second husband’s son. No relation to me.”

So not a brother.

“Oh~” In the dark, Meng Xuran’s smile widened. Casually, she added, “So… any exes?”

Bo Mingyan: “No.”

“Never dated?” Meng Xuran’s voice lifted.

Bo Mingyan felt judged. “Almost had an online thing once.”

Meng Xuran: “…Go on.”

“Gaming buddies turned in-game spouses. We got along well.” Bo Mingyan said. “He suggested taking it offline. I refused. We cut ties after that.”

In the darkness, Meng Xuran’s expression darkened. “Why not?”

“It was just online. Plus, he wasn’t my type.”

A two-minute silence followed before Meng Xuran asked, “What is your type?”

Bo Mingyan considered. “Someone like my dad-gentle, patient, strong. Preferably older.”

Only around Bo Weize could she drop all pretenses, showing her true self-unrestrained, free to laugh or cry, knowing he’d always shield her from the world.

She wanted a partner who’d accept every side of her, who’d let her live unapologetically.

With each descriptor, Meng Xuran’s smile faded.

Well, sh1t. Not a single match. She was temperamental, petty, delicate, and younger.

No wonder she’d been rejected so decisively back then.

“If you met your ideal type,” Meng Xuran pressed, “would you pursue them or wait for them to come to you?”

Bo Mingyan answered honestly: “I’d pursue them.” Then, turning the tables: “What about you?”

“Me?” Meng Xuran’s lips curled lazily. In the dark, her gaze fixed unerringly on where Bo Mingyan lay as she murmured, “I’d make them chase me.”

Not wait-lure.

Fitting for the proud little princess.

Bo Mingyan humored her: “Impressive. They say the best hunters disguise themselves as prey.”

“Obviously.” Meng Xuran accepted the praise without modesty.

Bo Mingyan, who usually avoided gossip, found herself curious: “What’s your ideal type?”

Who could make the princess lower her hook?

“Want to know~?” Meng Xuran drew out the whisper.

It tickled Bo Mingyan’s ears.

She rubbed them, only to hear Meng Xuran say, “Not telling. Tired. Sleep.”

Well played. She’d been hooked after all.

Bo Mingyan stared at the ceiling for a while before softly calling, “Hey.”

No response.

After a moment, steady breathing filled the room.

Meng Xuran was asleep.

Bo Mingyan turned onto her other side and closed her eyes. The day’s exhaustion gradually pulled her under.

Just as she teetered on the edge of sleep, a weight settled on her thigh-something warm and smooth sliding up and down, seeking the perfect spot before nestling into the dip of her waist.

Bo Mingyan reached down. A leg. Silky.

Warm breath fanned her neck as soft lips brushed the most sensitive spot.

Bo Mingyan’s eyes flew open.

This is Sleeping Beauty’s sleep style?!

She wordlessly lifted Meng Xuran’s leg away and flipped over, tucking the blankets around her.

Facing each other, she can’t kiss my neck now, right?

Bo Mingyan shut her eyes-then immediately reopened them.

Meng Xuran had burrowed into her arms, her robe gaping open, body heat seeping into Bo Mingyan.

The hottest point? The kiss pressed to her collarbone.

Not just resting there-Meng Xuran kept nuzzling closer, her lips grazing Bo Mingyan’s skin with every shift.

For a split second, Bo Mingyan considered kicking her off the bed.

Then she felt dampness on her neck.

Tears?

Meng Xuran, lost in some dream, whimpered “Why?” before clutching Bo Mingyan tighter, crying harder into her shoulder.

Scalding tears soaked Bo Mingyan’s neck, slipping beneath her robe.

After a long pause, Bo Mingyan relented and wrapped her arms around Meng Xuran, gently patting her back.

Eventually, Meng Xuran’s breathing evened out.

Bo Mingyan’s pats grew slower, then stopped altogether.

Before losing consciousness, one final thought drifted through Bo Mingyan’s mind:

‘Sleeps like a log’ my ass.

Little liar.

Author’s Note:

Meng Xuran: “You saw me naked, aren’t you going to take responsibility?”

Bo Mingyan: “…What kind?”

“I want…” Meng Xuran flushed crimson, fingers twisting shyly before her expression crumpled into distress. “First, work on your arm strength…”

‘Venus’ dimples’ = lower back dimples