Two Faced Lover - Chapter 55

55: Kiss Me

The Assassination film costume project was fully completed by New Year’s Day, and the neighboring team had also finalized all their spring-summer new releases. Meng Xuran went to Shen City to hand over the project to the film crew. Before leaving, she allocated funds to the design department director, and that evening, the department went out for a celebration dinner.

With over twenty people from both teams combined, the atmosphere was lively and noisy. Bo Mingyan, who wasn’t fond of socializing, sat quietly in her seat, exchanging messages with Meng Xuran.

[Schrödinger]: Gu Yuwei really likes your designs. She’s ordered a custom gown and specifically requested you to design it.

[Cat]: Did you recommend me to her?

The high-end customization team at Moment’s design department not only collaborated with Meng Xuran on runway collections but also took on custom orders for regular clients. However, Gu Yuwei wasn’t an ordinary client—typically, celebrity custom orders were handled personally by Meng Xuran.

[Schrödinger]: Wishful thinking.

[Schrödinger]: But if I hadn’t transferred you to the high-end team, you wouldn’t have met Gu Yuwei in the first place. So, in a way, I deserve some credit too, don’t I? Shouldn’t you properly thank me?

Bo Mingyan chuckled and typed back: When are you coming back?

[Schrödinger]: Don’t change the subject.

[Cat]: How can I thank you properly if you’re not back yet?

[Schrödinger]: On the way now. Should be home by 8 if there’s no traffic. I’m going to nap. Enjoy the dinner and stop fussing over your little admirers. Focus on thinking of ways to thank me!

[Cat]: Okay.

“Xiao Yan, chatting with your goddess? You’re smiling so much your face is practically glued to the screen.” Ava teased from beside Bo Mingyan, leaning in.

Bo Mingyan turned off her phone screen and smiled. “Seems like there’s vinegar smeared on the screen.”

Ava handed her a tissue. “How’s the pursuit going?”

Ever since Bo Mingyan mentioned she was pursuing someone, Ava had been endlessly curious about her progress, frequently checking in. Each time, Bo Mingyan would respond with the same eight-character mantra: Still working on it, should be soon.

But after repeating those words for over a month without change, Ava grew concerned. “Xiao Yan, is your goddess deliberately stringing you along? Listen, you’ve got to keep your eyes open—heartbreakers come in all genders.”

“No,” Bo Mingyan shook her head firmly. “It’s just been too busy lately. We haven’t had much time to interact.”

Between rushing to complete the film costumes and finalizing the spring-summer fashion show schedule, work had been unusually hectic. With early mornings and late nights, even eating became a luxury. Despite living under the same roof, their time together was scarce. Since that day when Meng Xuran, overwhelmed by emotion, bumped her progress bar to 90, it hadn’t budged since.

“Ah, that makes sense. But now that the film project is done, things should ease up.” Ava patted Bo Mingyan’s shoulder encouragingly. “Just put in more effort.”

Bo Mingyan nodded seriously.

Seeing her so solemn, Ava found it amusing and couldn’t resist probing further. “So, how far have you gotten in a whole month? What’s the current stage?”

Bo Mingyan thought for a moment. “Holding hands.”

Ava waited, but no further details came. “And then?”

Just holding hands?!

“And then,” Bo Mingyan sighed almost imperceptibly, “the progress bar got stuck at 90.”

“What progress bar?” Ava asked before realizing. “Wait, there’s a progress bar for pursuing her? Does 100% mean you’re together?”

Bo Mingyan nodded.

“Damn, girls these days really know how to play games! It’s like Pinduoduo,” Ava exclaimed, then curiously asked, “How long did it take you to reach 90?”

Bo Mingyan calculated. “About two days.”

Ava’s jaw dropped.

Two days to 90, then stuck for a month!

Ava’s concern for Bo Mingyan’s love life resurfaced. “Are you sure she’s not stringing you along? Don’t tell me it’s like Pinduoduo—no matter how hard you try, you’ll never hit 100.”

“No,” Bo Mingyan refused to entertain negative thoughts about Meng Xuran. After a pause, she frowned and said, “I think the problem lies in how I’m pursuing her.”

Ava seized the opportunity. “How are you pursuing her?”

Normally, Bo Mingyan disliked discussing personal matters and would brush off such questions. But with the progress bar stubbornly stuck at 90, and Ava seeming experienced in romance, she decided to seek advice.

After some contemplation, Bo Mingyan answered honestly, “I’ve never pursued anyone before, so the only method I could think of was giving her everything I think is good or that she might like.”

Ava choked, torn between laughter and exasperation. Bo Mingyan was truly a rookie in love. “Yan, you’ve never pursued anyone, but you’ve been pursued, right?”

Bo Mingyan hummed in agreement. “Are you suggesting I learn from those failed attempts?”

Ava burst out laughing at the phrasing. After composing herself, she said seriously, “Exactly. While you might not gain useful tips, you can avoid repeating their mistakes. Think about it—how did you feel when those people kept pushing things they liked onto you?”

How did she feel? Bored, impatient, amused. Because she didn’t like them, and because none of those things appealed to her.

Bo Mingyan’s lips parted as realization struck.

Though Meng Xuran had never shown such reactions—given her existing fondness—Bo Mingyan’s lukewarm pursuit must have grown dull over time, hence the stagnant progress bar.

“Let me teach you. The key to pursuing someone is four words: cater to their preferences,” Ava advised. “Start with her hobbies. Participate in them, integrate into her life. It’ll give you common topics and shared interests. So, tell me, what does your goddess like?”

“She loves meat—she complains if she goes a day without it. She enjoys drawing, but lately, she’s said she’s sick of it. Her interest in games comes in phases—sometimes she’s glued to her Switch, other times to online games.” Bo Mingyan tapped her forehead, realizing how little she truly knew about Meng Xuran. After racking her brain, she added, “Oh, and she loves soaking in the bath.”

“Huh?” Ava blinked. “Bathing?”

“Yeah. Once, she even enthusiastically recommended her massage bathtub to me and invited me to use it.” Bo Mingyan’s lips curled slightly at the memory of Meng Xuran’s salesperson-like demeanor.

“That’s your opening!” Ava slapped the table. “She’s inviting you into her hobby, creating a shared topic! You can even flirt with her to heat things up.”

“Wouldn’t flirting be too… greasy?” Bo Mingyan recalled some cringeworthy attempts from her past admirers, her smile fading into a pained expression. “And we’re not officially together yet. What if she thinks I’m harassing her?”

Ava was stunned. For someone of mixed heritage, Bo Mingyan was more conservative than ancient Chinese scholars. “Yan, harassment is when one party forces themselves on an unwilling recipient. You’re at 90—she clearly likes you too. How is that harassment? Flirt a little. If she resists, back off. If she doesn’t, perfect—it’ll bring you closer.” She paused, eyes widening. “Wait, so when she invited you to use the massage tub, you just… used it and left?”

Bo Mingyan’s smile faded further. She blinked slowly, then admitted guiltily, “I… turned her down at the time.”

“…”

Ava facepalmed, shooting her a look of utter exasperation.

At the time, Bo Mingyan hadn’t felt anything amiss, but under Ava’s gaze, regret surged within her. She coughed lightly. “Next time, I won’t refuse.”

Ava delivered the killing blow: “Let’s hope the girl gives you a next time after being rejected once.”

Bo Mingyan: “…”

The contrast between Bo Mingyan’s petrified expression and her striking features was so comically adorable that Ava nearly spat out her drink laughing. She patted Bo Mingyan’s shoulder reassuringly. “If she doesn’t give you another chance, make one yourself.”

Bo Mingyan cupped her cheeks in her hands, deep in thought. “I need to think carefully.”

“About what?” Ava asked offhandedly.

Bo Mingyan squished her own face. “About how to throw dignity to the wind and flirt with her.”

“…” Ava choked on her drink again. Noticing Bo Mingyan hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol all evening despite constant urging, she poured her a glass. “Liquid courage. Drink up.”

Bo Mingyan pushed the glass away slightly. “I’m afraid I’ll black out.”

Blacking out would be such a waste. She still couldn’t distinguish dream from reality regarding what happened last time she was drunk.

“Who said anything about blacking out? Just get pleasantly buzzed.” Ava insisted, sliding the glass back.

Bo Mingyan stared at the liquid in the transparent cup, lost in thought.

Meanwhile.

Upon returning to Nanquan City, Meng Xuran was eager to get home and see how Bo Mingyan planned to thank her. But on the way, she received a call from her family. Unable to resist her mother Meng Yao’s insistence, she sent Bo Mingyan a quick message before heading home.

The moment she stepped inside, her grandmother’s shrill voice assaulted her ears like a broken gong: “What, no man in this world is good enough for you? You have to go and date a woman? What kind of nonsense is this? Tell me, did that no-good sister of yours put you up to this? Xue’er, listen to Grandma—this isn’t something to follow Xuxu’s example in. Break it off with that woman immediately!”

Fu Junxue retorted, “What does this have to do with Xuxu?”

“I’ve read her diary! Corrupt thoughts at such a young age. Has she been filling your head with nonsense about liking women? Slowly poisoning your mind!”

Meng Xuran, midway through removing her shoes, strode straight into the living room. “When did you read my diary? Who gave you permission to enter my room?”

“Your room? This whole house was bought by my son! Every room is mine to enter! If you don’t want people seeing your filthy thoughts, don’t write them down!” The grandmother’s venomous glare shifted to Meng Xuran. “Should’ve let you suffocate in that car back then! Better than ending up this sick in the head!”

Meng Xuran’s face drained of color. A single blink sent cold tears rolling down her cheeks. Part of her found it absurdly funny, yet the tears wouldn’t stop.

Pathetic. Crying at the slightest provocation.

“Mom!”

“Grandma!”

Meng Yao, struggling to catch her breath, had originally called Meng Xuran home to mediate between Fu Junxue and their grandmother in Fu Changqing’s absence. Instead, the situation had spiraled out of control. Defending her daughter, she snapped, “I call you ‘Mom’ out of respect for your son, but don’t think that gives you the right to keep attacking Xuxu to cover up your own past mistakes!”

The grandmother roared, “I made no mistakes! You should reflect on how you raised your daughters! Your failures have corrupted mine!”

Meng Yao let out a humorless laugh.

Seeing her daughter-in-law ready for battle, the grandmother dramatically collapsed onto the sofa, clutching her chest. “You’re taking advantage of my son’s absence to kill me with your worthless daughters! Oh, oh, my heart—”

Fuming but helpless against the old woman’s theatrics, Meng Yao took deep breaths and signaled Fu Junxue. “Go home for now. We’ll discuss your… situation after your father returns.”

“Mom, pass this along: I came to inform, not to seek approval. Regardless of what anyone says, I’m not breaking up.” Fu Junxue squeezed Meng Xuran’s shoulder. “Need a ride back?”

Unwilling to let Uncle Cai see her in tears, Meng Xuran wiped her face roughly and texted him to cancel the pickup. “Give me a minute.”

She went upstairs to pack. Due to her strained relationship with her grandmother, she’d rarely lived at home since studying abroad. After buying her own place, she’d moved most of her belongings, leaving only a few clothes behind—all of which fit into one suitcase.

The desk drawer held only one item: her diary.

Time had faded its cover, but the contents—from childish scrawls to fluid cursive—spilled across thick pages, documenting every secret she’d ever harbored.

Taking a deep breath, Meng Xuran placed the diary in the suitcase and zipped it shut.

Downstairs, the grandmother was still moaning about chest pains. Meng Yao suggested a hospital visit, then a house call—both refused. Their argument raged on.

Ignoring them, Meng Xuran nudged Fu Junxue, who was scrolling on her phone. “Let’s go.”

“Running away from home?” Fu Junxue teased, eyeing the suitcase.

Meng Xuran scoffed.

As the sisters prepared to leave, Meng Yao hurried after them, instructing Fu Junxue to drive safely and message upon arrival. Then she turned to Meng Xuran, wiping her tears. “Your grandmother’s senile. Let her words go in one ear and out the other.”

Meng Xuran bit her lip, loading the suitcase into the car. After steadying her breathing, she said coolly, “For her health’s sake, don’t call me back unless it’s something major.”

Translation: Notify me when the old woman dies.

Meng Yao wiped Meng Xuran’s tears and ruffled her hair. “Next time, I’ll visit you.”

Meng Xuran’s brows lifted as she slid into the passenger seat. “Sure. You can meet your future…” She paused, choosing her words carefully, “daughter-in-law.”

“…” Meng Yao sighed. “Kids these days. Can’t control them anymore.”

Once Meng Yao left, Fu Junxue rolled up the windows and turned on the AC. Casually, she asked, “Still the one you’ve been hung up on all these years?”

Meng Xuran buckled her seatbelt and glanced over.

“Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t peek at your diary,” Fu Junxue clarified. “That year you came back from the U.S. with a fever, you talked nonsense all night.”

Meng Xuran stiffened. “What did I say?”

Fu Junxue recalled: That year, Meng Xuran had suddenly flown to America. She returned on Christmas Eve, clutching half a shriveled apple, snowflakes dusting her shoulders like crushed pride. Behind the mask, her face was streaked with tears she refused to explain. That night, she burned with fever, curled under blankets, clutching her chest as her cracked lips whispered:

“Sis, it hurts so much here… What do I do? I can’t let go. I still love her so much.”

“I give up…”

Now, leaning back against the seat, Meng Xuran gazed at the distant moon. “It’s always been her.”

“All these years, and you finally see daylight?” Fu Junxue grinned. “Come on, brag a little. How’d you win her over?”

“Haven’t won yet.” Meng Xuran smiled, her lazy sidelong glance dripping with smugness as she delivered the ultimate flex: “She’s the one pursuing me.”

“…”

Arriving home, the apartment was pitch-black—even Xiao Man’s silhouette was indistinct. Frowning, Meng Xuran checked her phone: 9:25 PM. Their last exchange was her message about visiting her family, to which Bo Mingyan had replied “Okay.”

Was she still out?

Flipping on the entryway light, Meng Xuran spotted Xiao Man’s tail brushing against a cluster of baby’s breath and lilies on the console table.

Lately, Bo Mingyan had been leaving her a daily bouquet—baby’s breath paired with another flower. Initially handed directly, they now appeared by the door, accompanied by a note: “So every departure and return begins and ends with joy.”

Today’s arrangement meant Bo Mingyan was already home.

Running fingers over petals, Meng Xuran peeked into the dark living room and pouted. Warmth and grievance tangled in her chest.

So much for thanking me. Didn’t even wait up.

Opting against turning on lights, she hung her coat and wheeled her suitcase forward—then froze mid-step.

A shadow curled on the sofa.

Heart skipping, she tiptoed closer.

Moonlight blended with streetlamp glow through unshuttered windows, illuminating the figure under a blanket. Half the cover had slipped to the floor. Bo Mingyan’s hair, grown longer, fanned across the cushions as she slept fetal-positioned, hands tucked beneath her cheek—soft and vulnerable.

Meng Xuran retrieved the fallen blanket and tucked it around her. Gaze lingering on that profile, memories surged—

That year in America, after visiting a hospitalized Gu Miao, she’d stumbled upon Bo Mingyan in a restroom. Disheveled, hollow-eyed in oversized hospital garb, clutching an IV bag with bl00d backing up the tube. The first words between them had been English, stripped of pride:

“Excuse me… could you help me pull down my pants?”

Later, pressing half an apple into Meng Xuran’s palm, Bo Mingyan had murmured:

“Thank you. Merry Christmas. May your life overflow with happiness.”

But Manman, you don’t even have happiness yourself.

Back in the present, Meng Xuran’s fingertips hovered over Bo Mingyan’s face before lightly tracing its contours. A tear plopped onto her own hand.

“Hey,” she whispered. “Manman.”

Silence swallowed her words. She bent closer, breath grazing Bo Mingyan’s ear. “Stuck at 90 for a month… Can’t you open up a little more?”

Suddenly, Bo Mingyan moved—one hand seizing Meng Xuran’s wrist, the other hooking her waist. Yanked forward, Meng Xuran found herself pinned between Bo Mingyan and the sofa back, breaths mingling.

Bo Mingyan’s grip shifted from wrist to waist, flipping them so Meng Xuran lay trapped beneath her.

Noses brushed. Lips hovered a hair’s breadth apart.

Meng Xuran’s pulse hammered as Bo Mingyan’s eyelids lifted, revealing eyes like midnight lakes—deep enough to drown in.

“You’ve been drinking?” Meng Xuran rasped.

“Why were you crying?”

Their voices collided. A beat passed.

Bo Mingyan noted Ava was right—Meng Xuran showed no resistance to her closeness. Thumbing away tear tracks, she murmured, “Who bullied our princess?”

Princess? Meng Xuran’s throat bobbed. A laugh bubbled up, eyes crinkling into crescents.

Oddly, her grandmother’s vitriol hadn’t cut as deep as this simple question. Pride warred with the urge to sob. Rolling onto her back to hide her face, she sniffed. “As if anyone would dare.”

“Then why the tears?”

“Toxins build up. This is just… scheduled detoxing.”

“…”

Seizing Bo Mingyan’s speechlessness, Meng Xuran changed subjects. “Why sleep on the sofa in the dark?”

Bo Mingyan studied her profile. Assured the distress had passed, she answered, “Too bright. Hurts my eyes.”

“You could’ve used theater lighting mode.”

“Too creepy.”

“…”

Since when is warm lighting creepy?!

A thought struck. “How much did you drink?”

“I’m not drunk.”

“Didn’t ask if you were.” Meng Xuran’s eyes gleamed with mischief as she turned back. “Why wait for me on the sofa?”

“To see you.”

To brainstorm how to thank you, Bo Mingyan didn’t add. The alcohol had lulled her to sleep mid-thought.

Meng Xuran’s pulse stuttered. “Why see me?”

The odd phrasing reminded Bo Mingyan of hazy drunken snippets from last time. Her lashes fluttered. Thankful for the darkness hiding her blush, she steadied her racing heart.

“To ask you…” She swallowed. “Help me bathe. In the massage tub.”

Silence.

A century compressed into seconds. Bo Mingyan’s lungs burned.

“Fine.” Meng Xuran’s voice was rough as gravel. “But first, repay what you owe me.”

Bo Mingyan’s brow twitched. “What?”

Meng Xuran leaned in until their lips nearly touched. “Say it to my face this time.”

Bo Mingyan’s breath hitched.

Realization dawned. Smirking, she murmured, “I don’t know how.”

Meng Xuran shot upright. “I taught you last time!”

“Too long ago.” Bo Mingyan twirled a lock of Meng Xuran’s hair around her finger. “Teach me again, Professor Meng.”

“…”

Cheater! That Professor title was lethal!

Gritting her teeth, Meng Xuran smiled sweetly. “Gladly, Student Bo.”

Bo Mingyan waited expectantly—only for Meng Xuran to pull out her phone, tap the screen, and hold it to her ear.

A soft, breathy moan crackled through the speaker.

Bo Mingyan’s ears burned. On-screen, her drunk self gazed up with hooded eyes, throat working—mirroring her current state.

“Replay as needed.” Meng Xuran grinned, straddling Bo Mingyan’s lap and tilting her chin up. “Once you’ve mastered it…” Her finger trailed down Bo Mingyan’s neck, pausing at her collarbone before skating back up to tap her lips. “…I’ll graciously scrub you clean.”

As Bo Mingyan playfully nipped at the teasing digit, Meng Xuran yelped and recoiled—giving Bo Mingyan the chance to flip them upright. Clinging to Bo Mingyan’s sleeves to avoid tumbling off, Meng Xuran gasped when warm lips brushed her ear:

“As you command, Your Highness.”

The whisper seared through her. Before she could process it, Bo Mingyan delivered a perfect, breathy “Ah~”—

Meng Xuran’s brain short-circuited. Crushing their mouths together, she swallowed the sound.

Softness met softness.

Time suspended.

Both waited for the other to pull away. Neither did.

After an eternity, Meng Xuran broke for air. “Manman, you’re drunk. Is it taking advantage if I kiss you?”

Bo Mingyan’s gaze locked onto hers. “Kiss me.”

Spellbound, Meng Xuran nipped Bo Mingyan’s lower lip—only for Bo Mingyan to retaliate by sucking her upper lip like sweet jelly, lush and addictive.

Heat pooled low in Meng Xuran’s belly. Through the haze, she registered Bo Mingyan’s winter-cool lips tasted of mint—likely from the candies in the living room dish.

When oxygen grew scarce, they parted, foreheads pressed together, panting.

Assuming Bo Mingyan’s drunkenness guaranteed forgetfulness, Meng Xuran threw caution to the wind. “If you weren’t drunk, who knows how long it’d take to reach this point.”

Bo Mingyan’s eyes gleamed in the dark. “You like this?”

“Not exactly.” Meng Xuran nuzzled her neck. “I want you livelier—domineering, willful, temperamental, regal as a queen. You don’t have to always be so good to me. Whatever side you show, I’ll love it…”

She lifted her head, gaze shimmering. “Because it’s you.”

Bo Mingyan’s throat tightened. A fish seemed to thrash in the lake of her heart, rippling waves of unrest. She ducked forward, pecking Meng Xuran’s lips repeatedly—as if to silence the words unraveling her.

This docile, affectionate version of Bo Mingyan was intoxicating. Yet Meng Xuran knew: Come morning, the walls would go back up, leaving her with the usual block of wood—

Clueless at flirting, impossible to flirt with.

So she’d milk this opportunity for all it was worth.

“Princess keeps her word.” Meng Xuran squirmed as the featherlight kisses continued. “Let’s get you bathed. Ugh, stop pecking—are you a bird?!”

Bo Mingyan ignored her.

Realizing reasoning with a drunk was futile, Meng Xuran grabbed Bo Mingyan’s hair and bit down hard on her lip.

The pecking ceased. Bo Mingyan winced.

“Who’s the puppy now?” she grumbled, prodding the sore spot.

“Should’ve listened.” Meng Xuran smirked. “Good girls get a lapdog. Naughty ones get a wolf.”

Bo Mingyan licked her lip, torn between exasperation and amusement.

Stealing glances at the barely visible injury, Meng Xuran fretted. “Did I bite too hard? Let me turn on the light—”

“Not hard.”

Bo Mingyan’s flush hadn’t faded—nor had the arousal thrumming through her.

Meng Xuran remained unconvinced.

“You could lick it better,” Bo Mingyan blurted.

“Tch. Trying to scam me?” Meng Xuran huffed—then promptly swiped her tongue over the bite. “Water’s running. Go wash up.”

Watching her stride off, suitcase in tow, Bo Mingyan’s smile widened.

Minutes later, Meng Xuran reappeared. “Bath’s ready. Early bedtime—work tomorrow.”

Bo Mingyan didn’t move.

Meng Xuran walked over and urged, “Go on.”

Bo Mingyan let out an almost imperceptible sigh and stood up. “My legs are numb.”

She was about to add that she could bathe alone when her body was suddenly lifted into the air. Startled, Bo Mingyan looked up, her gaze skimming over Meng Xuran’s delicate, striking jawline before quickly averting her eyes.

Meng Xuran carried her bridal-style, even making a deliberate detour past the security camera. “Next time you get drunk, don’t go complaining—I’m carrying you to the bath in broad daylight.”

Bo Mingyan chuckled silently. “…Got it, Miss Generous.”

Once they reached the bathroom, Meng Xuran set Bo Mingyan down, flexed her fingers, then reached out to grip the hem of Bo Mingyan’s clothes. “Raise your arms.”

Realizing Meng Xuran intended to undress her, Bo Mingyan hurriedly said, “I can do it myself.”

Meng Xuran studied her carefully, suddenly noticing the faint blush on Bo Mingyan’s face. Last time she drank, she hadn’t flushed—just how much had she had this time? Skeptical, Meng Xuran asked, “Are you sure?”

Bo Mingyan…

She gave a firm “Mm” and nodded emphatically to prove she could manage.

“What’s there to be shy about? It’s not like I haven’t seen you undress before,” Meng Xuran muttered under her breath.

Bo Mingyan froze, instinctively gripping her left wrist with her right hand. “What?”

Meng Xuran blinked slowly, her long lashes fluttering. “Nothing. Come here, I’ll show you how to use the massage bathtub.”

Bo Mingyan shuffled over reluctantly.

Worried that Bo Mingyan might be too drunk to remember the controls, Meng Xuran patiently demonstrated twice and reminded her, “I’ll leave the door unlocked. I’ll be in the room—just call if you need anything. And don’t soak for too long, got it?”

“Mm,” Bo Mingyan replied. “I want to use your shower gel and shampoo.”

Meng Xuran tilted her head, then suddenly laughed. “Want to smell like me all over?”

Bo Mingyan met her gaze. “Yes.”

Damn it. Every time, she was the one who started the teasing, yet she was also the first to get flustered. Meng Xuran covered her burning face and fled.

Bo Mingyan undressed and sank into the tub, warmth enveloping her. She lowered her eyes, staring at the faint scar on her left wrist visible beneath the rippling water, her mind lingering on Meng Xuran’s earlier words.

She was a reserved person. The only time someone had undressed her was after the incident where she was falsely accused of having an affair with her advisor. In retaliation, a group of girls beat her so badly she ended up in the hospital.

Being alone in the hospital was incredibly difficult. That day, she had called Lin Huixin, hoping her mother would come, but the moment He Chencheng—her half-brother—chimed in with “Mom, I think I have a fever,” Lin Huixin hung up on her. She had to drag her IV bag to the bathroom alone, struggling even to pull down her pants.

Thankfully, she had met a girl then—one whose face was completely hidden under a hat, mask, and sunglasses.

Perhaps it was precisely because she couldn’t see her face that Bo Mingyan could let her guard down just a little.

Back then, Bo Mingyan had been endlessly grateful for the girl’s silent help, so she gave her the only “peace apple” she had—and all the luck left in her life.

She never expected that girl would later share half of it back with her.

It was because of that half an apple that she had hesitated when the time came to cut deeper.

Bo Mingyan closed her eyes, sinking lower until her head submerged underwater. In her mind, the girl in the hat and mask slowly morphed into Meng Xuran’s face, then dissolved into the memory of their tongues entwined.

The truth was, Meng Xuran didn’t seem to mind when things went a little too far—in fact, she almost seemed to expect it.

Meng Xuran had even hinted before that if their progress stalled, a more aggressive approach might be necessary.

But Bo Mingyan hadn’t realized that all Meng Xuran wanted was for her to let go a little more.

Meng Xuran’s words reminded her of the time, during a business trip, when she had described her ideal type.

Aside from being younger, Meng Xuran’s emotional maturity fit perfectly.

How lucky was she, to find someone who understood her so well—someone who matched her ideal—in this vast, ever-moving world?

She needed to understand Meng Xuran better too, just as Ava had said. She needed to immerse herself more in Meng Xuran’s life, to open up a little more.

To offer the same sincerity and passion to the one who deserved it most.