Two Faced Lover - Chapter 48

48: Acting Coquettishly

Bo Mingyan removed her glasses with one hand.

The motion was careless, the chain on the frames swinging through the air, agitating Meng Xuran’s heart with restless irritation. She wished she could return to this person’s side immediately.

She had to make Bo Mingyan properly face her, call out her name without pause, until she cried!

Meng Xuran fumed inwardly as she carried her laptop to the bed. Then, Bo Mingyan’s warm, deep voice flowed into her ears through the headphones:

“I miss you a little, Meng Jiaojiao.”

Like a gentle breeze, it swept away all of Meng Xuran’s restlessness. She looked at the computer screen.

Bo Mingyan adjusted her position, lying on her side with one arm bent beneath her head, the other hand holding her phone resting limply by her cheek. Her fingers barely gripped the device as her head grew heavier, her fingers curling slightly before the phone tipped over.

The camera faced the bright white ceiling again.

Meng Xuran could no longer see Bo Mingyan’s face, her expression, or glimpse into her heart through those eyes. Lying prone on the bed, she stared blankly at the computer screen. In the distance, the light from a crystal chandelier stretched into the frame, casting its glow across the ceiling.

That light extended through Meng Xuran’s vision, slowly seeping into her heart, dispersing the thick, heavy fog that had lingered there for years. A gap that had remained unfilled for so long was now gently, softly being mended by something warm.

“Only a little?” Meng Xuran asked softly.

Bo Mingyan’s hand, which had been covering her eyes, slowly lowered, revealing those smoke-gray irises. They reflected the chandelier’s light, shimmering with a watery glow.

Someone who had grown accustomed to solitude, who had learned to dwell in darkness, now found herself returning to an empty living room day after day, missing the usual sounds of the TV being left on, the phone calls filled with complaints or tears—always some kind of noise. And the voice that would say, “You’re back.”

Every time she left her room late at night, she couldn’t help but glance at the door, or peek into the master bedroom, half-expecting someone to emerge, grumbling about being hungry and asking if she wanted midnight snacks.

Every morning as she left, she lingered at the entryway, remembering how that person would lean out from the kitchen, watching her, and say, “Make sure to earn lots of money for your boss today.”

This house felt familiar, like the ideal home she had once dreamed of—with its wall of fish tanks, vibrant plants, and clingy, affectionate cats.

The owner of this house was like the state she had longed to attain.

As long as Meng Xuran was here, this place wasn’t just a dwelling—it was alive with warmth.

As long as Meng Xuran was here, it was a sanctuary where she could shed her masks and rest her soul.

Of course, it wasn’t just “a little” that she missed her.

It was a lot. Very much. Especially.

She wanted to hear Meng Xuran’s voice, see her figure, and feel her warmth.

But she was afraid—afraid that if she bared everything, if the dazzling sunlight illuminated every cramped corner, if all her flaws were exposed, the floating dust would tarnish that radiant light.

So she didn’t dare. Didn’t dare say more than a little.

It could only be a little.

The oxygen pump in the fish tank hummed to life, releasing a stream of bubbles.

After waiting too long for a response, Meng Xuran tentatively called out, “Manman? Did you fall asleep?”

Bo Mingyan blinked. She was a little sleepy—or maybe she had been dreaming all along.

After a moment of silence, Bo Mingyan let out a soft “Mmm.”

“Don’t sleep on the couch,” Meng Xuran said, no longer fixating on how much Bo Mingyan missed her, only worrying that she would catch a cold like this.

“Mmm… Then where should I sleep?”

“In your room. Under the covers.”

“No.” Bo Mingyan’s voice was soft and lazy. “I’m dirty. And I smell! The blankets are clean.”

Even when alone, she was picky about herself. Meng Xuran couldn’t help but laugh. “Then go take a bath. Get all nice and clean before sleeping.”

She figured that in Bo Mingyan’s current state, bathing shouldn’t be a problem.

“I’m tired,” Bo Mingyan drawled lazily. She felt cold and curled up, hugging a pillow to her chest, her voice muffled against it. “I’ll just sleep on the couch. You did the same last time.”

“…” Meng Xuran cleared her throat. “Don’t copy me.”

Bo Mingyan scoffed.

“Be good, Manman.” Meng Xuran coaxed gently.

“I said the same thing to you last time.” Bo Mingyan retorted, arching her back and sweeping the phone over her body with a huff. “And you just lazed around like this.”

“…” Meng Xuran’s eyelashes fluttered. “Was my posture really that… that exaggerated?!”

Her butt sticking up so high! And wriggling her waist while whining?!

“Yes.” Bo Mingyan affirmed, lifting her phone as she pondered before delivering a more precise assessment. “Even more alluring.”

Like a seductive enchantress.

“…”

“Last time, I carried you back.” Bo Mingyan sighed. “Now it’s your turn to carry me. Be generous, Meng Jiaojiao.”

“…”

Still hung up on that “generous” bit.

Meng Xuran was both exasperated and amused, laughing despite herself. “I wish I could.”

“Wishing is useless. Come carry me.” Bo Mingyan poked the soft pillow before burying her face in it, leaving only half her cheek visible. “And help me bathe while you’re at it.”

“…”

Bo Mingyan’s eyes were half-lidded, her gaze hazy and intoxicating.

Meng Xuran’s throat tightened. If not for her upbringing, she might have cursed aloud.

“Bo Manman, you’re just bullying me because I can’t come back right now!”

Bo Mingyan chuckled lowly. “I’m not.”

A few seconds later, the faint smile on her face faded as she murmured, “How could I bear to?”

Her voice was so soft it seemed she was on the verge of sleep, but Meng Xuran heard it clearly. Her heart stuttered to a halt.

After an indeterminable pause, worried Bo Mingyan might drift off, Meng Xuran pushed aside her tangled emotions and urged, “Go take a bath, get into bed, and sleep properly. Manman, be good.”

Bo Mingyan’s nearly closed eyes fluttered open. “Can’t you bathe me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not home…”

“Then come back quickly.” Bo Mingyan ordered. “Come back and bathe me, carry me to bed.”

“…”

Meng Xuran silently watched her slightly pouted lips. “Bo Manman, are you acting coquettish right now?”

“…”

Bo Mingyan flipped her phone over, leaving Meng Xuran to admire the sofa’s upholstery.

Meng Xuran got out of bed, laptop in hand, pacing back and forth like an ant on a hot skillet, restless and frantic.

From the hotel to the airport: three hours. From Xishi to Nanquan City: over three hours by plane. And tomorrow at 5:40 a.m., she had to fly from Xishi to Haishi.

What if she went from Nanquan City to Haishi instead?

Meng Xuran’s mind raced, numbers swirling in her head.

A moment later, she deflated like a punctured balloon, slumping onto the edge of the bed.

No matter how she calculated, it was impossible…

By the time she returned, Bo Mingyan would likely be sober.

“Bo Manman,” Meng Xuran ventured, “what do you think will happen tomorrow when you wake up and remember all this?”

Bo Mingyan slowly opened her eyes and picked up her phone. She stared at Meng Xuran on the screen, the smoke-gray of her irises deepening, dotted with the chandelier’s light—giving the illusion of sobriety.

“I don’t know,” Bo Mingyan said, “but right now, I don’t want to wake up.”

So she really was treating this as a dream.

Meng Xuran sat on the edge of the bed, her laptop resting on her knees. She stayed like that, watching the misty haze in Bo Mingyan’s eyes on the screen, lost in thought for a long while.

“Manman, if you’re too tired, skip the bath. Just change into clean clothes and sleep in bed. You can change the sheets tomorrow—it won’t smell.” She closed her eyes. “Then hang up, long-press to delete the call history. Got it?”

Bo Mingyan frowned. “Why delete it?”

“Because. Just do it, no reason.” Meng Xuran raised a brow. “Just delete it, or you’ll regret it.”

Bo Mingyan’s mind was too muddled to follow Meng Xuran’s logic. Right now, she was just happy talking to her like this.

Why would she regret it?

That didn’t matter.

If Meng Xuran didn’t want to explain, she wouldn’t ask. If Meng Xuran told her to do something, she’d do it.

“Got it,” Bo Mingyan said, sitting up. “I’ll go bathe.”

She couldn’t stand the thought of sleeping in bed while smelling unpleasant.

Meng Xuran hummed in acknowledgment, reluctant. “Then I’ll hang up.”

“Not yet.”

“?”

“Stay with me.”

“H-How am I supposed to stay with you?!”

How?! Meng Xuran covered her face with her hands. Was she supposed to video call while Bo Mingyan bathed?!

Then… wouldn’t she see everything?! Her face burned like a boiling kettle, steam practically rising.

Bo Mingyan walked into the shower, casually setting her phone on the sink before undressing. “I’ll be quick. Don’t hang up.”

Meng Xuran, now staring at the bathroom ceiling, didn’t respond.

When no sound came through, Bo Mingyan picked up her phone to check.

The angle wasn’t adjusted properly at first—the camera swept downward, briefly capturing the soft, snowy curves.

Meng Xuran’s eyes widened slightly, her gaze snagging on the elegantly winged collarbones.

She never expected someone as slender as Bo Mingyan to be so… generously endowed underneath.

And… the shape was so beautiful. So plush-looking.

“Meng Jiaojiao, did you hear me?” Bo Mingyan enunciated each word. “Don’t hang up.”

“I-I heard you.”

And so, the little princess condescended to watch the steam rise and dissipate against the ceiling, utterly enthralled.

The hot water deepened her drunkenness. Bo Mingyan finished quickly, grabbing her phone and returning to bed. She collapsed onto the mattress, her eyelids growing heavy—but she couldn’t bear to close them.

How strange.

Why would she feel sleepy in a dream?

Bo Mingyan called out softly, “Meng Jiaojiao.”

“I’m here.”

Meng Xuran lay down as well, the two of them in separate places yet facing each other as if sharing the same bed.

“Sleep, Bo Manman.” Meng Xuran swallowed hard. “…Remember to delete it.”

“Okay.”

Bo Mingyan didn’t want to hang up.

Neither did Meng Xuran. But she feared that if Bo Mingyan fell asleep like this, she’d wake up tomorrow, see the call history, remember everything, and retreat in embarrassment.

“Go to sleep. I’m hanging up.”

In the end, it was Meng Xuran who ended the call.

That tsundere tone was so very Meng Jiaojiao.

She’d thought there might at least be a “goodnight.”

Bo Mingyan’s lips curled slightly. Obediently, she deleted the video call history. Her fingers twitched, and the phone slipped from her grasp.

Her eyelids drooped shut as she murmured drowsily:

“Goodnight, Meng Jiaojiao.”

A thousand miles away, someone whispered the same:

“Goodnight, Manman.”

Meng Xuran stared blankly at the call log showing over two hours of video chat, her gaze inscrutable. “Next time, when you’re sober, you’ll pay me back double.”

Recalling everything that had happened tonight, it still felt surreal—like a dream.

A different Bo Mingyan. One she hadn’t dared hope for.

After a long while, Meng Xuran changed Bo Mingyan’s contact name to “[Cat]” and her own nickname to “[Fishing].”

A faint ripple of red shimmered in her eyes as she murmured to herself:

“I don’t want you half-dead for me. I want you willingly hooked…”

Only when you take one more obvious step forward will I… dare to throw caution to the wind once more.

Author’s Note:

Meng Xuran: Taking notes. Make. Me. Scream!!!
Bo Mingyan: “…”

Earlier, we mentioned Schrödinger’s cat—another meaning is “I’m willing to be half-dead for you.”

Manman was truly drunk. If she’d been sober, she’d have been even wilder… (whispers) Manman’s a secret freak.

The spring dream chapter hinted that both see themselves as tops—they each want to pamper the other.

Who’s top and who’s bottom? We won’t know until they actually do it.