Two Faced Lover - Chapter 26

26: Casting the Net

“When I said ‘bed exercise’ I meant sleeping.” Bo Mingyan’s heart churned at the ambiguous phrasing, but she could keep up appearances—outwardly, she remained calm and composed as she corrected, “Sleeping is also a form of exercise…”

Right now, I’m so exhausted I just want to eat breakfast and then go back to sleep for a while.

But before she could finish the second half of her sentence, Meng Xuran arched a brow and interrupted in a drawn-out tone, “Who are you doing this ‘sleeping exercise’ with?”

“Myself, obviously.” Bo Mingyan had stayed up late last night and woken too early, still sleep-deprived, so she answered honestly without thinking.

Meng Xuran let out a short “Ah” Bo Mingyan lifted her gaze and saw Meng Xuran tapping her fingertip against her rosy, glossy lips, studying her with an inscrutable look.

Those peach-blossom eyes, when fixed intently on someone, always gave the illusion of being gazed upon with deep affection.

But the “deep affection” facade shattered almost instantly.

Meng Xuran blinked, feigning confusion, and then dropped a bombshell: “How do you do ‘sleeping exercise’ with yourself? Unless…”

“…”

At this moment, Bo Mingyan had the overwhelming sense that the more she explained, the worse it would sound.

If this conversation continued, it would veer off the straight and narrow and straight into the gutter.

“Unless what? Close your eyes, go back to sleep, and dream.” Bo Mingyan kept a straight face, dead serious, determined to steer the topic back to decency.

But her opponent was a little devil. Meng Xuran drew out a long, teasing “Ohhh” her voice laced with undisguised amusement: “A wet dream, then?”

For a split second, Bo Mingyan nearly lost her grip on her usual mild-mannered act.

Especially when she saw Meng Xuran’s hand—the one that had been tapping her lips—slowly curl, half-covering her smirk as she stifled a laugh.

Bo Mingyan could tell Meng Xuran was doing this on purpose, just like that morning during their business trip when she’d deliberately teased her.

Of course, Meng Xuran knew Bo Mingyan hadn’t meant it that way. She just wanted to mess with her—and, more importantly, to probe. She knew everyone had physical needs, and self-sufficiency was a normal thing.

But looking at Bo Mingyan’s face—the epitome of icy restraint, sharp features, aloof expression, her poker face just a little too perfect…

She was clearly unhappy.

Meng Xuran swallowed her smile, lowered her hand, and sighed softly.

“Don’t be mad, I was just joking.” When it came to coaxing Bo Mingyan, Meng Xuran was practically an old hand by now. Words she’d never have dreamed of saying in the past now rolled off her tongue with ease: “I’m sorry, okay? I was wrong, alright?”

Hearing the first half, a small flame of irritation flared in Bo Mingyan’s chest. She wanted to retort, “A joke isn’t funny if the other person doesn’t think so.” But Meng Xuran’s coquettish apology blew in like a breeze, instantly snuffing out her anger.

The words on the tip of her tongue came to an abrupt halt, and Bo Mingyan choked on them instead. The lines of her neck tensed as she coughed, her pale fingers pressing against lips that had gone dry and bloodless.

Meng Xuran quickly stood up and patted her back, then without thinking grabbed the half-finished cup of soy milk from the table and handed it to her.

Once the coughing subsided and she had mostly recovered, Bo Mingyan took the paper cup. Her lips were just about to touch the drinking hole on the lid when she suddenly paused.

This was the cup Meng Xuran had been drinking from.

There was only one opening on the lid, and near it was the faint imprint of lipstick. But when she had been choking earlier, she’d been in too much of a hurry to notice.

Bo Mingyan held the cup, her gaze flickering toward the corner of her eye, skimming over Meng Xuran’s concerned face before quickly looking away. For a moment, she hesitated—should she just tear off the lid?

“What’s wrong?” Meng Xuran seemed to have a rough idea of what she was struggling with. She picked up the other cup of sweetened soy milk and said, “You’ve already drunk most of mine, so this one’s mine now, okay?”

“Fine.” Bo Mingyan’s fingers curled slightly, but in the end, she did nothing—just drank directly from the small opening.

After all, the other party didn’t seem to mind, and she had already drunk from it once before. Making a big deal of it now would be too deliberate.

Meng Xuran also took a few sips from the sweetened soy milk, her gaze lingering on the faint lipstick mark near the rim—so light it was barely visible. She licked her lips, thinking for the first time that something usually considered fattening could taste…

Sweet. Really, really nice.

“No more jokes—what kind of exercise do you like?” Meng Xuran steered the conversation back on track.

“No more jokes—I don’t like exercise.”

Bo Mingyan nibbled on a small bread roll, watching as Meng Xuran’s expression fell, her index finger tapping idly against her cheek.

She looked like she was plotting something mischievous.

Bo Mingyan couldn’t quite understand why Meng Xuran was so insistent on getting her to exercise. Then, in a flash of insight, she remembered—this was the same person who refused to wear ugly slippers unless someone joined her.

After a moment’s thought, Bo Mingyan ventured, “Do you just not want to work out alone? You want someone to go with you?”

As if I’d ever need company!

Meng Xuran’s inner voice was full of bravado, but what actually came out of her mouth was a complete reversal: “Yeah, it’s hard to stick to a fitness routine by yourself.”

Bo Mingyan nodded in understanding, then suggested, “You could ask your sister.”

“My sister has another girl she’s into now.” Meng Xuran pouted, putting on a pitiful, teary-eyed act. “She can’t even be bothered with me anymore.”

Bo Mingyan let out a soft chuckle from deep in her throat. The Fu Junxue she knew was as straight as they came—and with her strikingly alluring looks, she had no shortage of male admirers but terrible luck with women.

There’s no way she has “another girl,” much less would she ignore her own sister.

The lie was obvious.

Seeing Bo Mingyan’s disbelief, Meng Xuran bit her lip, her eyes turning slightly red.

She was telling the truth, but it involved Fu Junxue’s personal privacy. Plus, saying too much might expose herself, so she couldn’t elaborate.

Swallowing her grievances for a moment, Meng Xuran sniffled and cast a new hook:

“Eating your food made me gain—”

She paused, stretched out her hand with all five fingers splayed, glanced at it, then put one down.

“Four pounds! Shouldn’t you take responsibility and help me lose weight?”

Bo Mingyan replied, “You’re already skinny. Even if you gained eight pounds, there’d be no need to diet.”

“Skinny? You can’t even lift me.”

“…That’s because I’m weak.”

Meng Xuran’s eyes gleamed mischievously: “So you need to exercise. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you company.”

This wasn’t just tossing out a hook—it was casting a net. Round and round they went, thinking she’d dodged the bait, only to realize she’d been circling inside the net all along.

Bo Mingyan adjusted her glasses, her long lashes lifting slightly as she noticed the faint redness in Meng Xuran’s eyes. She let out an almost imperceptible sigh.

She suspected it was because she’d been too prideful in her youth that the heavens had sent a Meng Xuran to torment her now.

The more vulnerable she was to something, the more skilled Meng Xuran became at wielding it.

Just then, Bo Mingyan’s phone on the table buzzed—it was a call from Lu Yo. Like grabbing a lifeline, Bo Mingyan immediately picked up and answered.

During past holidays, Lu Yo often invited her to travel. Hoping this was another such invitation, she deliberately—yet casually—put the call on speaker.

“Xiao Man, are you on break yet?”

The voice echoed through the room, prompting the cat named “Manman” to meow and trot over. Bo Mingyan’s ears burned, flushing a fiery red as if brushed by something.

“Yeah, I am. What’s up?”

As she spoke, she moved the phone away from her ear. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Meng Xuran lower her head, her propped hand shifting to rest her chin on her knuckles, covering her lips—only the curve of her smiling mouth remained visible.

“There’s a new sports center across from my bar, with a real ice-skating rink. Don’t just stay cooped up at home—come out and move around!” Lu Yo, breaking her usual pattern, was actually inviting her to exercise.

“…”

Bo Mingyan, momentarily distracted, hadn’t had time to turn off the speaker.

Total collapse.

Sure enough, Meng Xuran’s eyes immediately lit up like they were filled with little stars, sparkling as she looked over, her face practically screaming, *“Let’s go, let’s go!”*

Bo Mingyan planned to refuse Lu Yo while also dissuading Meng Xuran’s enthusiasm.

But then, Lu Yo added in a hushed, rapid-fire tone, “Don’t you dare say no. I’m in a bit of a messy situation here—come save me. Also, is that younger roommate of yours, your boss, around? If she’s free, invite her along too. More people means less awkwardness.”

Bo Mingyan’s finger hovered over the speakerphone button, but she never pressed it.

Well. Total disaster.

Bo Mingyan instinctively glanced at Meng Xuran, who blinked, the corners of her eyes curling with excitement.

Was that even a question?

Bo Mingyan rubbed her temples.

Maybe it wasn’t just sins from her youth—perhaps she owed Meng Xuran in a past life too. Why else would the few friends she had all become this woman’s cheerleaders?

“What time?” Bo Mingyan asked.

“10:30?” Lu Yo ventured.

“10:30?” Bo Mingyan repeated, shooting a look at Meng Xuran. When Meng Xuran nodded eagerly, she replied, “Fine. We’ll meet you at the rink.”

After hanging up, Bo Mingyan checked the time on her phone. “I’m going back to sleep for a bit. Let’s meet at 10.”

Since they were meeting Bo Mingyan’s friend, Meng Xuran wanted to shower and put on some makeup too, so she had no objections. “OK. I’ll have Uncle Cai pick us up.”

“Let’s take the subway?” Bo Mingyan didn’t want to trouble anyone on their day off, but then it occurred to her that the delicate Princess Meng might not want to squeeze into a crowded train. She added, “If you’d rather not, we can call a car.”

“Then let’s take the subway,” Meng Xuran said, brimming with enthusiasm.

Bo Mingyan raised an eyebrow. “…Have you ever ridden the subway before?”

“…”

Who do you think you’re looking down on?!

Bo Mingyan understood the look in Meng Xuran’s eyes. She curled her lips slightly and said nothing more.

The two returned to their respective rooms.

Meng Xuran applied some light makeup, changed into casual clothes, and stepped out of her room when it was about time.

As she passed the bathroom, her footsteps paused. She tilted her head to glance inside—Bo Mingyan stood in front of the mirror, a black hair tie clamped between her lips.

Meng Xuran grumbled inwardly: She’s not wearing the one I gave her.

Bo Mingyan gathered her hair with both hands, lifting it above her head, and tied it into a half-up style.

Instantly, her whole demeanor changed—fresh, vibrant, and even more dashing…

Bo Mingyan stared into the mirror, adjusting the stray strands at her forehead, then flicked a glance from the corner of her eye.

From the moment she started tying her hair until she finished, the person at the doorway had been staring at her, as if frozen in place.

“Snap out of it,” Bo Mingyan turned around. As she brushed past Meng Xuran, she casually snapped her fingers and said without looking back, “Let’s go.”

Meng Xuran patted her cheeks and followed.

When they reached the entryway, Bo Mingyan reminded her, “Don’t wear shoes that rub.”

“I’m not stupid.” Meng Xuran muttered under her breath, but the corners of her lips curled high, her heart blooming with joy.

During the holiday, the subway station was bustling with people. Two beauties walking together naturally drew lingering glances from passersby.

But none of those gazes compared to the one beside her.

Along the way, Meng Xuran kept stealing glances at Bo Mingyan.

Bo Mingyan found it utterly baffling.

Once on the subway, they turned a corner. Bo Mingyan tugged Meng Xuran, pinning her in the corner while shielding her with her body to prevent the little princess from being jostled by the crowd.

Meng Xuran’s heart felt like it was stuffed with ten thousand frantic deer. She fiddled with her fingers at her sides, then peeked at Bo Mingyan again.

Finally, Bo Mingyan couldn’t take it anymore. “Is there something on my face?”

“No.” Meng Xuran shook her head.

Bo Mingyan cut straight to the point: “Then why do you keep looking at me?”

Meng Xuran explained, “It’s just… you look so different from usual.”

She spoke while stealing a few more glances, suddenly realizing there wasn’t something on Bo Mingyan’s face—rather, something was missing. “You’re not wearing your glasses anymore?”

“Mm.” Bo Mingyan replied. “I was afraid they’d be inconvenient. They fog up when it’s hot, and if I’m not careful, they might fall off.”

Meng Xuran nodded and made a soft sound of acknowledgment. Then, remembering something, she asked, “How bad is your eyesight?”

“Those were anti-radiation glasses.” Bo Mingyan said.

Meng Xuran was surprised. “Anti-radiation? Why did you always wear them?”

Bo Mingyan’s lips parted slightly.

Because her eye color was different from her father’s. Because she had heard too many whispers. Because people always stared at her as if she were some kind of oddity. She wasn’t used to it—in fact, she found it somewhat distasteful.

The subway came to a stop. The next station was the city center of Nanquan. As soon as the doors opened, a flood of people surged in, rolling forward like a wave. Those at the back shouted, “Move in further!” as they shoved others aside to make space.

Bo Mingyan was jostled hard from behind. Instinctively, she shifted even closer to Meng Xuran, pressing flush against her in a way that, from another angle, looked as though she had pulled Meng Xuran into an embrace.

Meng Xuran was tilting her face up, gazing into her eyes.

At the moment they touched, she said softly, “Your eyes are especially, especially beautiful. Next time, don’t hide them, okay?”

Bo Mingyan’s long lashes trembled slightly.

The noisy surroundings seemed to abruptly freeze, as if someone had hit pause. The only sound she could hear was the light, gentle voice of the person before her.