Two Faced Lover - Chapter 40

40: Applying Medicine

Bo Mingyan, who had previously claimed to be physically weak, had carried her all the way to the master bedroom with steady ease—so steady that even now, as Meng Xuran racked her brain, she couldn’t recall a single moment of it…

The surveillance footage couldn’t capture what happened after they entered the room.

Meng Xuran set her phone down and looked up, catching sight of her own face in the mirror—her expression was nothing short of dumbstruck. She pressed a hand to her chin, closing her slightly agape mouth.

Then, with an outward appearance of calm, she changed her clothes, though inside, her emotions were churning like boiling water, bubbling over with heat.

Her feelings at the moment were indescribable.

She had asked Bo Mingyan to carry her twice before, only to be rejected both times. And now, when she had finally been carried—a princess carry, no less!—she had no memory of it at all!

If it weren’t for the surveillance footage, she would’ve been completely fooled by Bo Mingyan, left without even the faintest sensation to reminisce about.

What a massive loss!

Just as Meng Xuran was pulling on her pants, Xiao Man suddenly leaped down from the sink and stood on her hind legs, pawing at the ripped holes in her jeans. Startled, Meng Xuran nearly stepped on the cat’s tail, reflexively jumping back—only to slam her hip into the edge of the sink.

Her already sore buttock was now in agony.

Meng Xuran’s pupils constricted, and she let out a pained yelp:

“Oww—!!”

Bo Mingyan, who had just set the dishes on the dining table, froze at the sound, “…”

Did she fall again?

Suddenly, Bo Mingyan understood why “age” had been one of Meng Xuran’s requirements for a roommate.

If she weren’t a few years older, she might not have been able to handle this walking disaster.

When Meng Xuran didn’t emerge from the bedroom, Bo Mingyan grew concerned and walked over to knock on the door, “What’s wrong?”

No response. She knocked again, “Meng Xuran?”

The door clicked open. Bo Mingyan glanced inside but didn’t see Meng Xuran—until she looked down and found Xiao Man sitting there, her fluffy black tail swaying as she stared up with round, gleaming eyes, as if proudly announcing: “Meow~”

A faint, choked sob drifted out from within.

Bo Mingyan’s eyebrow twitched, “I’m coming in?”

“Don’t!” Meng Xuran finally spoke.

Too late.

Bo Mingyan was already at the bathroom door. She took one look inside and immediately turned her back, her fair skin flushing visibly from her neck to the tips of her ears—like a shrimp tossed into boiling water.

Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it might leap out of her chest.

It wasn’t that Meng Xuran had intended to respond. The pain from the impact had been so sharp that her instinctive reaction was to lift her hips away from the sink’s edge. By the time Bo Mingyan had called out to her, she’d already been sniffling as she struggled to adjust her position.

By the time she regained her senses, Xiao Man had already opened the door.

Meng Xuran had then hurriedly tried to pull up her pants—but they were only halfway on, one leg still dragging around her ankle.

So when Bo Mingyan walked in, she was met with the sight of Meng Xuran stepping on her own pant leg, lurching forward, and kneeling on the ground, her backside raised toward the door.

“…”

What terrible luck.

“Food’s ready. Come out when you’re done.” Bo Mingyan said quietly, turning to leave.

Meng Xuran sniffled, biting her lip to suppress her embarrassment, “I can’t get up.”

“…Try harder?” Bo Mingyan paused mid-step.

“I can’t!” Every part of her hurt, “It’s not like you haven’t seen me before. We’re both girls—why are you acting shy? Come help me up!”

Silence hung in the air for a few seconds.

Resigned, Bo Mingyan turned back, deliberately avoiding the sight of Meng Xuran’s far too enticing posture. She circled around to the front, sighed, and held out a hand.

“I’m the one who should be sighing. If you hadn’t barged in, I wouldn’t have fallen in the first place.” Meng Xuran grumbled as she took Bo Mingyan’s hand and pulled herself up.

Bo Mingyan hummed, “Right. Next time you shriek like an opera singer, I’ll just ignore it.”

Only then did Meng Xuran remember her earlier yelp. Bo Mingyan had come in because she was worried. Her lips pursed, and she softened her tone, “My bad.”

Bo Mingyan’s brows lifted slightly, the ice in her expression visibly thawing. “Done yet?”

Meng Xuran was still holding her wrist, her other hand tugging at her pants. “Not yet. Don’t peek.”

“…It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.” Bo Mingyan retorted, mimicking Meng Xuran’s earlier tone.

Meng Xuran scoffed. “I have some dignity, you know.”

“Where was that dignity when you begged me to help you up?” Bo Mingyan countered effortlessly.

Meng Xuran: “I was being adaptable.”

Bo Mingyan let out a quiet laugh but didn’t argue further.

Seizing the opportunity, Meng Xuran stepped on her foot.

Bo Mingyan: “…”

Once her pants were finally on, Meng Xuran announced, “I think my butt’s swollen.”

Bo Mingyan frowned, “From the fall in the bathroom earlier?”

“Mhm. And then I hit the sink just now.” Meng Xuran gingerly rubbed her backside before making a request. “Carry me out?”

Bo Mingyan studied her thoughtfully. “Do you have some kind of obsession with getting me to carry you?”

This was the third time she’d asked.

“I didn’t before, but I do now.” Meng Xuran lied without blinking.

Bo Mingyan was puzzled.

Meng Xuran flashed her a radiant smile. “You said before that you were too weak to carry me, right?”

Bo Mingyan nodded solemnly, “Right.”

“Then who carried me back to my room last night?” Meng Xuran arched a brow. “Bo Manman?”

“…” Bo Mingyan’s gaze lifted from the hand still gripping her wrist to meet Meng Xuran’s eyes. The latter’s earlier tears had left her eyelids tinged pink, her irises glistening and bright—shimmering with a sly, knowing light.

This little fox was too cunning, always fishing for answers. Bo Mingyan assumed she was just testing her again—after all, given how deeply she’d been asleep last night, there was no way she could remember how she’d gotten back to her room.

After a moment’s consideration, Bo Mingyan replied coolly, “Did you mistake a dream for reality while you were passed out? Let go. If you can’t walk, I’ll bring a chair for you to sit on.”

“I was passed out,” Meng Xuran said, narrowing her eyes, her tone leisurely as she dropped the bombshell. “But the living room surveillance was still running. It was originally set up to monitor Xiao Man, but—what a coincidence—it never got turned off, so it caught you too, Manman.”

Bo Mingyan: “…”

“You can carry me, so why keep refusing?” Meng Xuran’s words tumbled out, and as she recalled all the times she’d been rejected, an uncontrollable wave of grievance surged up inside her.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but with her emotions flaring, seeing Bo Mingyan still stubbornly refusing to admit the truth felt like a thorn—poking at the same spot over and over, never too hard, but never relenting either.

And yet, she always forgot the pain as soon as the wound healed.

Meng Xuran’s grip slackened, her hand falling away. She bit her lower lip, tilting her head to the side as she fought back the urge to cry—but as always, her tears were disobedient, welling up despite her efforts. Her voice trembled. “It’s like I’m some kind of monster to you. Fine. If you don’t want to carry me, then don’t—”

Before she could finish, her body was suddenly weightless, the rest of her words swallowed back.

This wasn’t the first time Bo Mingyan had carried her, so she moved with practiced ease—one arm sliding under Meng Xuran’s shoulders, the other hooking behind her knees as she lifted her into a bridal carry. Her gaze dropped to the reddened corners of Meng Xuran’s eyes. “Shut up. No crying.”

She hadn’t said a word, yet this person had rambled on and on, even working herself up to tears for no reason. If anyone’s the monster here, it’s her, Bo Mingyan thought.

Otherwise, why would she keep crying in front of her like this?

Right now, Meng Xuran didn’t feel like crying at all. She wanted to laugh. She felt pathetic—how could she be so easily pacified just because Bo Mingyan carried her? And yet, she loved the feeling of being held by her.

It was real—close, warm contact.

Not some fleeting dream.

Her gaze trailed up along Bo Mingyan’s sharp jawline, lingering for a second before she quickly looked away. She huffed. “Later, even if you beg me to talk, I won’t say a word.”

“…” Bo Mingyan mentally drew a big, fat X over that hypothetical scenario.

Sure enough, Meng Xuran’s vow of silence lasted less than a second. “Am I heavy?”

“Not really.”

“Not really’ as in heavy or not heavy?”

“…Not heavy.”

Satisfied, Meng Xuran grinned.

“You said you were weak, but you’re carrying me just fine—ah!”

Bo Mingyan deliberately loosened her grip, jostling her slightly.

“That’s cheating!”

“Mhm. Using surveillance as a cheat is also cheating. We’re even.”

“What cheat?” Meng Xuran blinked, confused.

By the time they reached the dining table, Bo Mingyan set her down and uttered two words: “The footage.”

Meng Xuran’s eyes sparkled, her lips curling into a smile. Bo Mingyan shot her a glance. “Eat.”

“Okay.”

Because of her sore backside, sitting comfortably was impossible, so Meng Xuran ended up eating while standing. Watching her, Bo Mingyan suggested, “You should go to the hospital after breakfast.”

“Mhm.” Meng Xuran asked, “Do you have plans this afternoon?”

Bo Mingyan knew exactly what she was hinting at. After a brief pause, she replied, “I’ll go with you.”

“Mhm!” Meng Xuran’s voice lifted cheerfully as she eagerly served Bo Mingyan a portion of food.

Bo Mingyan stared at the eggplant in her bowl, a sudden sense of foreboding creeping up on her. “You’re not expecting me to carry you there, are you?”

Meng Xuran: “…That’s a great idea.”

Bo Mingyan: “…I just remembered I have something to do.”

Meng Xuran nearly stomped her foot in frustration. Bo Mingyan lowered her head to take a bite of eggplant, the corner of her lips curling up.

After breakfast, Bo Mingyan accompanied Meng Xuran to the nearest hospital. Meng Xuran flat-out refused to call Uncle Cai for a ride—if he found out, Meng Yao would undoubtedly summon her back home. She also refused to take a taxi because sitting was painful, and while she could lie down, doing so in a cab was just too embarrassing.

So Bo Mingyan ended up driving Meng Xuran’s car to the hospital.

Bo Mingyan was curious. “I’ve never seen you drive yourself.”

Meng Xuran lay sprawled across the back seat like a lazy pig. “Don’t feel like it. What about you? When did you learn?”

“After returning to China.” Bo Mingyan replied.

They chatted idly, and soon enough, they arrived at the hospital.

Fortunately, it wasn’t crowded. After registering, they didn’t have to wait long before Meng Xuran was called in. Bo Mingyan stayed in the waiting area, buying a bottle of water from the vending machine in the lobby. By the time she returned, Meng Xuran had already finished her consultation.

Bo Mingyan handed her the water. “What did the doctor say?”

“Soft tissue injury. Prescribed a bunch of meds.” Meng Xuran took the water and, noticing Bo Mingyan eyeing the prescription slip, handed it over.

The printed slip was clear and legible. Bo Mingyan skimmed it before telling Meng Xuran to rest while she went to pick up the medication.

When Bo Mingyan returned, Meng Xuran immediately dug through the bag for the ointment, completely uninterested in the bitter pills she’d have to swallow.

On the way back, Meng Xuran had just settled into a comfortable position in the back seat when her phone rang. She absentmindedly set the ointment aside and answered.

From the tone, it was clearly a work call. Bo Mingyan focused on driving, not paying much attention—until she heard Meng Xuran snap coldly:

“Will crying solve the problem?”

Bo Mingyan couldn’t help but let out a quiet snort of laughter.

After parking, Bo Mingyan glanced up at the rearview mirror, meeting Meng Xuran’s frosty, proud gaze.

The rest of the ride passed in silence.

Back home, Bo Mingyan handed Meng Xuran the medication. “Take them on time. And apply the ointment.”

“Okay.”

Clutching the medicine and the water Bo Mingyan had bought her, Meng Xuran limped back to her room.

Her pants were uncomfortably tight around her injured backside, so since she wasn’t going out again, she changed into a loose dress. Then she began inspecting each box of medicine—only to notice that every single one had its dosage and frequency neatly written on it in marker.

The tail of the number “3” curved like a sickle—Bo Mingyan’s handwriting.

Meng Xuran’s heart melted into a puddle. The usually detestable medicine slid down her throat without a trace of bitterness, wrapped instead in a cocoon of sweetness.

After taking the pills, she rummaged through the bag for the topical ointment—but no matter how thoroughly she searched, it was nowhere to be found. She stepped out of her room just in time to see Bo Mingyan emerge from behind the foyer.

Meng Xuran blinked. “Did you just go out?”

“Mhm.” Bo Mingyan didn’t elaborate. “Did you take your medicine?”

“Yeah.” Meng Xuran remembered her original question. “Have you seen my ointment?”

Bo Mingyan walked over and held out her hand—clutched in it was the very tube Meng Xuran had been looking for. “You left it in the car.”

Meng Xuran’s eyes flickered as she took it, her fingertips brushing against Bo Mingyan’s knuckles.

The warmth of that touch seemed to seep straight from her fingers into her heart.

“Can you apply it by yourself?”

The moment Bo Mingyan asked, she felt a twinge of awkwardness. Even if it was difficult, there wasn’t much she could do—it was a rather private area. Though… she had seen it before.

Given Meng Xuran’s personality, she’d probably ask for help without a second thought.

But to her surprise, Meng Xuran hesitated. “I… think so?”

Meng Xuran’s mind raced. Part of her wanted to seize every opportunity to tease Bo Mingyan, but for some reason, the thought of showing her bruised, unsightly skin made her balk. She didn’t want Bo Mingyan to see her at anything less than her best.

And given Bo Mingyan’s personality, she’d probably be relieved if Meng Xuran could handle it herself.

But then, to her surprise, Bo Mingyan said firmly: “I’ll do it.”

“???”

Two minutes later.

Meng Xuran lay face down on the bed, her entire head buried in a pillow, the back of her neck tinged pink. Bo Mingyan peeled open the seal on the ointment tube and glanced at her. “Lift your clothes yourself.”

To Meng Xuran’s ears, those words carried the same weight as “Get on top and do it yourself.”

It was sweet torture.

After what felt like a lifetime of deep breaths, Meng Xuran reluctantly rolled onto her side and tugged up her dress. Her fingers hovered at the waistband of her underwear, pausing briefly before she glanced back at Bo Mingyan—only to find the latter focused on scooping ointment onto a cotton swab, not even looking at her.

Somewhat reassured, Meng Xuran yanked her underwear down in one swift motion, burying her face back into the pillow. “Done.”

Bo Mingyan finally looked up—and frowned.

Meng Xuran’s backside was a study in contrasts: one half pale and smooth as a steamed bun, the other mottled with angry bruises.

When the ointment didn’t come, Meng Xuran mumbled into the pillow, “Is it swollen?”

“Mhm.” Bo Mingyan wasn’t sure where to start.

“Is it… really ugly?” Meng Xuran’s voice was even muffler.

“Not really.”

“Not really,” “not really”—everything’s just “not really” with you! Meng Xuran grumbled inwardly.

The ointment was cool as it touched her skin, and Meng Xuran shivered involuntarily, her back arching. “Hss—”

“Does it hurt?” Bo Mingyan immediately lifted the cotton swab, worried she’d pressed too hard.

“Not really.” Meng Xuran parroted Bo Mingyan’s earlier words.

The ointment had been chilly at first, but it quickly grew warm, the pain in her backside dulling almost immediately. She wriggled slightly. “Keep going.”

Her nightgown had ridden up, exposing the curve of her waist—each subtle shift sending a distracting flutter through Bo Mingyan’s vision.

After a beat, Bo Mingyan resumed applying the ointment, her touch even gentler than before. Finally, she tossed the cotton swab into the trash. “Fix your clothes.”

“Okay.” Meng Xuran, assuming Bo Mingyan still wasn’t looking, took her time adjusting her underwear. It had been easy to pull down, but with the ointment applied, pulling it back up was awkward. Finding it difficult to do while lying down, she rolled onto her side to tug up the other side.

At that exact moment, Bo Mingyan—thinking she was done—glanced up.

Her gaze traveled up from Meng Xuran’s thighs, over the curve of her—

A scorching heat surged from deep within her, staining her neck, cheeks, and even the rims of her eyes a vivid red.

The last time they’d been in a hotel during a business trip, Meng Xuran had at least tried to cover herself. She wasn’t that shameless. But now? There was nothing left to the imagination.

Their eyes met.

For a heartbeat, neither moved.

A strange tension thickened the air, seeping into every corner of the room.

Meng Xuran yanked the blanket over herself, cocooning tightly, while Bo Mingyan practically launched herself off the chair by the bed. Flustered, she set the ointment on the nightstand and bolted for the door, her face burning.

Just as her hand closed around the doorknob, Meng Xuran’s voice—hoarse and quiet—drifted from behind her:

“Will you… help me apply it tomorrow too?”

Bo Mingyan didn’t know how to answer. Saying yes was awkward, but saying no felt even more awkward.

“We’ll see.” she muttered before fleeing without a backward glance.

Meng Xuran sat bundled in the blankets like a triangular rice dumpling, glaring resentfully at Bo Mingyan’s retreating figure until the door clicked shut. With a heavy sigh, she flipped face down onto the bed.

Her backside burned.

So did the rest of her.

After lying there for a while, she called Gu Miao.

Gu Miao picked up immediately. “I was just about to call you! Guess what? I found that woman who slept with me and then ran away!”

Meng Xuran, still sulking, teased half-heartedly. “And? Did she sleep with you again?”

Gu Miao “pfft”-ed.”I’m pretending I don’t know. I’m gonna lure her in, then I’ll be the one who runs. Hmph!”

Meng Xuran didn’t hold back. “Childish.”

“I learned it from you.” Gu Miao shot back.

“Stop learning from me, then.” Meng Xuran sighed. “My fishing hook’s about to fall off.”

Only then did Gu Miao notice her odd tone. “What’s wrong?”

Meng Xuran considered it. Though Gu Miao wasn’t the most reliable, she was at least half-decent at advice. Maybe she’d have something useful. So she gave a brief rundown of her current situation with Bo Mingyan. “Am I being too impatient?”

“Holy sh1t, you played Overcooked and didn’t fight?!” Gu Miao gasped.

Meng Xuran: “…”

Clearly, even “half-decent” was too generous.

Shortly after hanging up, Gu Miao—perhaps sensing Meng Xuran’s displeasure—sent a surprisingly serious text:

[Maybe you should ease up a little? Give her time and space to realize she’s already gotten used to having you around. But don’t ease up too much—or you’ll end up like me, where the moment you relax, they vanish without a trace.]

Meng Xuran stared at her phone screen, lost in thought.

—

Meanwhile.

Bo Mingyan returned to her room and downed two large glasses of cold water, the heat in her body gradually subsiding—but the image in her mind refused to fade.

She sat at her desk and opened her laptop, losing herself in work to calm her thoughts. Slowly, her focus sharpened, and her mind cleared—until Lu Yo’s WeChat notification popped up.

Lu Yoyo: Chen Feifei said Little Meng deleted her. She asked me to apologize—she shouldn’t have kept asking about your relationship.

Bo Mingyan was taken aback. Hadn’t Meng Xuran said she’d deleted Chen Feifei for swearing?

Bo Mingyan: Why was she asking about me and Meng Xuran?

Lu Yoyo: Who knows? She swings both ways. Probably had her eye on Little Meng and was worried you two were together.

Bo Mingyan replied with an “Oh.”

A few seconds later, she added:

Bo Mingyan: Tell her to stay away from Meng Xuran.

Lu Yoyo: Relax, I already scolded her.

Lu Yoyo: Aww, it’s rare to see you so protective. Back in the day—well, no use dwelling on the past. Too much pain, too many tears. Next time, bring Little Meng out with us again! It’s not often you warm up to someone so quickly.

Bo Mingyan stared at the messages, her mind drifting to memories of the past.

From a young age, Bo Mingyan had always been surrounded by people. She was beautiful, came from a wealthy family, and was accomplished in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting—by all accounts, she should’ve never lacked for friends.

But in elementary school, she’d once overheard a close friend say to someone else: “If it weren’t for the attention you get from being her friend, who’d bother?”

Comments like “They’re just into her face” or “It’s all about her family’s money” were far too common.

After Bo Weize’s death, their family’s downfall became common knowledge at school. When the walls crumbled, everyone pushed. Many who’d once been friendly no longer bothered pretending, and the ugly whispers she’d only heard behind her back were now said to her face—by people she’d once considered friends.

Later, when she went abroad, the discrimination, exclusion, and bullying only intensified.

Someone might invite you to dance just to humiliate you in public. Someone might call you a friend one second and bully you the next.

As she grew older, as Lin Huixin grew colder, Bo Mingyan found it harder and harder to define the boundaries of relationships.

What counted as family? What counted as friendship?

The only thing Bo Mingyan knew for sure was that the surest way to protect herself was to neither easily accept nor easily offer affection.

Emotions were too costly. She couldn’t afford betrayal. She couldn’t afford loss.

Bo Mingyan grew colder, never maintaining relationships, never nurturing them.

If they clicked, they clicked. If they didn’t, they parted. And once they parted, she never looked back.

And yet, in just three months—

She and Meng Xuran had become friends.

This was the first time Bo Mingyan had ever grown so close to someone so quickly. In truth, Meng Xuran had done plenty of things that should’ve made her uncomfortable—even made her lose her composure more than once.

If it had been anyone else, Bo Mingyan would’ve immediately distanced herself. Being emotionally affected was something that left her deeply unsettled.

But Meng Xuran was different.

Meng Xuran wasn’t like anyone she’d ever met.

It was as if they’d known each other for years. Meng Xuran always seemed to know exactly how far she could push, always found the soft spots that made Bo Mingyan relent, and—without fail—found ways to accommodate her and help her in a manner that never bruised her pride.

Even in a game notorious for causing arguments, they’d cooperated seamlessly, without a single word of blame.

Somehow, their dynamic had shifted.

And Bo Mingyan wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

In order to alternate workdays and rest days so employees wouldn’t feel too exhausted, the company did not schedule makeup workdays—National Day holiday was just three days.

Early the next morning, a little past seven, Bo Mingyan’s alarm went off. She turned it off and glanced at her phone, noticing a system notification for a WeChat message Meng Xuran had sent around six in the morning.

After applying the ointment, the two hadn’t seen each other again—Meng Xuran hadn’t even left her room, it seemed. Frowning, Bo Mingyan tapped into WeChat.

Difficult to handle: [Got a last-minute notice for a business trip, no need to make food for me~]

Difficult to handle: [Remember to feed [the fish] for me]

Difficult to handle: [Remember to feed [the cat] for me]

Difficult to handle: [Remember to water the flowers on the balcony]

Difficult to handle: [Remember]

There was nothing after that. Bo Mingyan sat up and replied with a single 【?】.

By the time she changed clothes and finished washing up, Meng Xuran’s response had come through.

Difficult to handle: 【？？】

Bo Mingyan patiently asked: 【Remember what?】

Difficult to handle: 【Forgot.】

Bo Mingyan lowered the hand holding her phone and ran her other hand through her hair.

She had really overthought things yesterday.

In reality, nothing between them had changed.

About half a minute later, Meng Xuran sent another message—

[Remember to tell Xiaoman to miss me.]

Once, over a weekend, Bo Mingyan had casually asked Meng Xuran about Xiaoman’s gender.

Meng Xuran had said, “She’s a eunuch.”

But now, Meng Xuran had used “her”—whether it was a typo, an insult to Xiaoman, or implying something else, Bo Mingyan wasn’t sure.

She blinked slowly and didn’t reply to Meng Xuran.

But as she was leaving, she looked at Xiaoman, who had jumped onto the shoe cabinet and was tilting her head at her. Bo Mingyan reached out, stroked Xiaoman’s chin, and said, “Remember to miss your mom.”

The design department was buzzing with excitement.

Normally, the main contributors were Ava and Liu Yang, while the junior assistants were mostly there to liven up the atmosphere. But today, the chatterbox was Hu Jingjing.

Thanks to her close friendship with Lu Shan, Meng Xuran’s assistant, Hu Jingjing had gotten some insider info over the past few days:

“Just the day before yesterday, the sales department messed up. No idea which dumbass in operations added an extra zero to the discount coupon amount and forgot to set a purchase limit. So a ton of people snatched them up to buy Director Meng’s Four Seasons collection—sold out instantly.”

“Holy sh1t, that must’ve been a massive loss!” Ava exclaimed. “How did Director Meng react?”

“Lu Shan said the sales director contacted her late that night. Guess what? Director Meng was playing video games at the time! And she just replied with—” Hu Jingjing counted on her fingers, “five words!”

Bo Mingyan walked over and took her seat. After exchanging greetings with Ava and the others, they immediately pressed Hu Jingjing: “What five words?”

Everyone started guessing wildly—

“Figure it out yourself?”

“Are you an idiot?”

“Don’t bother me while I’m gaming?”

“That’s six words!”

Playing games late that night… Bo Mingyan raised an eyebrow. So when Meng Xuran had been on her phone, she was actually talking to the sales director?

Hu Jingjing revealed the answer: “‘In sweet dreams, do not disturb.'”

More like a nightmare. Bo Mingyan thought to herself.

“I declare this the first joke of the month,” Ava said, grinning at Bo Mingyan. “Even Xiao Yan’s laughing so hard.”

Bo Mingyan: “…”

Hu Jingjing continued gossiping: “Director Meng’s had it rough these past couple of days—she’s been cleaning up the mess for those idiots next door. Every solution came from her. That operations girl is a total dumbass—when told to take down the listings, she missed one color. Unbelievable. All she does when she screws up is cry.”

“A colleague from their side said Director Meng was on speakerphone yesterday and just snapped, ‘Will crying solve the problem?’ They said her tone—ugh—total badass heroine vibes!”

“Our poor heroine had to go on a business trip to renegotiate prices and cut losses. She left for Shangcheng before five in the morning.”

“God help me, before five a.m.? I’d still be in sweet dreams for sure.”

Bo Mingyan listened half-heartedly, her frown deepening.

She gripped her phone until its cold surface warmed to her touch, then turned on the screen.

Meanwhile, Meng Xuran sat in the car, brows furrowed in frustration. Her backside ached terribly, but she couldn’t show it—her mood couldn’t be worse.

Her phone buzzed several times in a row. She pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

Untamed: [Remember to take your meds on time.]

Untamed: [Remember to apply the ointment.]

Meng Xuran’s lashes fluttered, the irritation on her face melting away in an instant: [I forgot to bring the meds!]

[Anyway, I’ll be back in a couple of days.]

[Then… you can apply it for me again?]

It was nearly noon by the time Bo Mingyan replied: [We’ll see when you’re back.]

A breeze swept through the treetops, carrying the faint scent of autumn.

Only now did Meng Xuran vaguely realize—the seasons really are changing.

Author’s Note:

Meng Xuran: “Today’s grievances shall be repaid twofold in the future! Get on top and grind yourself!”

Bo Mingyan: “???”