Two Faced Lover - Chapter 61

61: Xu Ran

Xuran Butterfly Dream…

Meng Xuran.

Could it really be such a coincidence? The sheer improbability left Bo Mingyan dazed, unsure if she had misremembered. She recalled that people in the game used to call that person “Little Butterfly.”

To confirm whether it was really this line, she would need to log into the game and check.

Originally, before setting off today, Bo Mingyan had intended to bring her laptop, but Meng Xuran said hers would suffice.

Bo Mingyan shifted slightly, restless, instinctively feeling that she couldn’t use Meng Xuran’s computer to check. She glanced toward the back of the car—she remembered Liu Yang had brought his laptop.

In the back seat, Liu Yang had said something that provoked the female colleagues. Gu Miao, the little spitfire, led the charge in teasing him, with Ava joining in and Hu Jingjing and a few other assistants adding to the lively atmosphere.

Liu Yang, with an arm slung around his neck by the company photographer, was flushed and overwhelmed, waving his hands in surrender. “Damn, I was wrong! I shouldn’t have messed with you guys!”

“Pah! Is that how you apologize? Keep going at him!”

“Sh1t, sh1t, spare me, please! My dear ladies, my ancestors!”

…

The car was filled with noise and excitement.

“Sitting with me is boring, and you have to be my human pillow,” Meng Xuran’s soft voice was almost drowned out. She spat out the prune pit and continued grumbling, “And you have to take care of me, peeling oranges for me. Look how slow you are at peeling this tiny orange…”

Because of her motion sickness, the little princess’s temper had flared, and now she was growing increasingly aggrieved, even shooing Bo Mingyan away. “Maybe on the way back, you should sit with them.”

Bo Mingyan withdrew her gaze and met Meng Xuran’s pitiful yet stubborn eyes, glistening with unshed tears. Her restless heart instantly calmed.

After all, names in the game couldn’t be changed. There was no rush to confirm right now.

Gathering her thoughts, Bo Mingyan turned back, her fingers slowly peeling the orange. She uttered two words: “Too noisy.”

“Who’s too noisy?” Meng Xuran narrowed her eyes, her gaze threatening.

Bo Mingyan pretended not to understand her look, lowering her eyes to meticulously remove the white pith from the orange. Instead of answering, she asked, “What do you think?”

“I think the example over there shows what happens when you offend your ancestors,” Meng Xuran raised an eyebrow slightly, her tone drawn out and lazy. “Shouldn’t you take the hint?”

Bo Mingyan’s fingers paused briefly, amused. She plucked a peeled orange segment and brought it to Meng Xuran’s lips.

Meng Xuran lowered her gaze.

The tart, fresh scent of the fruit wafted up. The fingers holding the orange segment had neatly trimmed, rounded nails, with even, slender joints that were even paler than the white pith clinging to the fruit.

“Open up, ancestor.” Bo Mingyan’s voice carried a faint smile, low and slightly husky.

Meng Xuran slowly parted her lips and took the orange segment into her mouth.

Her teeth grazed Bo Mingyan’s fingertips, breaking the fruit’s flesh. The juice seeped out, spreading its sweet-and-sour tang, soon followed by the swipe of a pink tongue licking the juice from Bo Mingyan’s fingers.

Bo Mingyan’s eyelashes trembled violently.

In the company car, teasing could easily be noticed by colleagues. Meng Xuran withdrew as soon as she made contact, leaning back against the seat and glancing at Bo Mingyan from the corner of her eye.

Bo Mingyan had already retracted her hand, her fingers curling and uncurling slightly. The tips still bore traces of orange juice.

As if oblivious, Bo Mingyan calmly peeled another segment, removing the pith before feeding it to Meng Xuran every so often. When only three segments remained, she glanced out the window and held one between them.

Meng Xuran didn’t overthink it, leaning in to bite at her fingertips as before.

But this time, Bo Mingyan suddenly withdrew her hand. Meng Xuran froze, instinctively turning her head.

The car entered a tunnel, plunging the interior into darkness.

Almost the moment the light dimmed, Bo Mingyan’s lips pressed against hers, gently nibbling at Meng Xuran’s lower lip.

Her tongue lightly probed, waiting for the willing prey to take the bait.

Bo Mingyan captured the mischievous little tongue that had teased her repeatedly and sucked on it firmly.

Caught off guard, the electric sensation sent a shiver through Meng Xuran.

The entire exchange lasted no longer than the dozen or so seconds it took for the car to pass through the tunnel.

The lingering tension stretched time impossibly long.

No one noticed the undercurrents of intimacy in their secluded corner. The noise from the back only accentuated the subtle silence between them.

The thrill of secrecy spread through their hearts like the fragrance of oranges—rich and intoxicating.

It felt like… a clandestine affair.

Just as Meng Xuran was about to reclaim the initiative, Bo Mingyan straightened up and stuffed the orange segment into her mouth.

The car emerged from the tunnel.

Outside the window, the shadows of trees danced, sunlight filtering through the gaps and casting dappled patterns that shifted like a kaleidoscope as the car moved, surreal and ever-changing.

Chaotic and disordered—just like their unsettled hearts.

Bo Mingyan adjusted the air vent above Meng Xuran’s head. Meng Xuran, now reclining again, shot her a look that was both coy and reproachful. She chewed the orange slowly, the numbness on her tongue gradually dissolving into the juice.

A wave of heat surged through her body, and Meng Xuran felt her motion sickness worsening.

But remembering what had just happened, she didn’t feel quite so miserable.

They stopped for lunch at a restaurant partnered with the travel agency, resting for a while with the car doors and windows open to air out the vehicle. By the time they got back on the road, Meng Xuran’s motion sickness had subsided.

A little past four in the afternoon, the car pulled into the parking lot in front of the Xiaomufeng Resort.

Xiaomufeng Resort was located in Shangcheng. While Nanquan City was quite warm, Shangcheng was overcast, the temperature several degrees lower.

The female colleagues in the company were all dressed beautifully, shivering in the cold wind in their high heels.

Originally, Meng Xuran had booked a hotel with in-room hot springs. But two days before the trip, Bo Mingyan recommended a homestay rumored to have a view of the starry sky. At first, Meng Xuran dismissed it because the homestay was too remote and required walking a narrow path. But after Bo Mingyan mentioned it, she wavered and changed the booking to the homestay two days before departure.

Meng Xuran strolled leisurely, her coat flapping open, grumbling inwardly that if the homestay wasn’t as good as promised, she would punish the mouth that had persuaded her to change her mind.

Bo Mingyan frowned, glancing at Meng Xuran’s ears, red from the cold, and whispered, “Button up your coat.”

“No,” Meng Xuran refused outright, tightening her coat. “It’s ugly.”

“…”

While everyone else hurried ahead because of the cold, Meng Xuran walked slower and slower.

Their slow pace left them at the back of the group. The others, assuming they were discussing work, glanced back but didn’t pay them further attention.

Bo Mingyan’s gaze dropped to Meng Xuran’s nearly 10-centimeter heels, recalling how she had suggested wearing flats before leaving, only for Meng Xuran to insist otherwise.

The downhill path was tricky.

Bo Mingyan grabbed Meng Xuran’s arm and pulled her to the side of the road, buttoning up her coat one by one. “Enjoying the cold? Enjoying the pain?”

Meng Xuran thought, If you hadn’t made me change to the homestay, would I be suffering like this? She stood there silently, refusing to respond.

Bo Mingyan took out a pair of flats from her bag and handed them to her. Only then did Meng Xuran react.

During their summer business trip, the person who wouldn’t carry shoes for her even when her feet were blistered now indulged her vanity while also thoughtfully preparing flats for her.

The wind carried a faint, elusive scent of wintersweet, seeping into her heart and spreading slowly.

Meng Xuran pressed her lips together, the corners curling up slightly. As she changed her shoes, she muttered, “Quite enjoyable.”

Bo Mingyan: “…”

Once Meng Xuran had changed, she crouched to place her stilettos into the bag Bo Mingyan handed her.

“Meng Jiaojiao.” Bo Mingyan called.

Meng Xuran looked up.

Bo Mingyan leaned in and pecked her red lips firmly. This time, Meng Xuran reacted swiftly, pressing the back of Bo Mingyan’s head and biting her lower lip.

She ground their lips together slowly.

When she pulled away, her teeth tugged at Bo Mingyan’s lip slightly.

Even with the suitcases blocking them, this was far more exposed than their kiss in the tunnel. The tension amplified the sensation tenfold, and Bo Mingyan’s heart skipped a beat.

Meng Xuran stroked Bo Mingyan’s palm, taking the bag while releasing her lip.

“Director Meng~ Turn left up ahead!”

As she stood, the marketing director turned back and waved, reminding Meng Xuran not to take the wrong path.

Meng Xuran gave an “OK” gesture. She sidestepped like a crab, pressing close to Bo Mingyan, and whispered in her ear, her tone drawn out and lazy, “Kissing behind your colleagues’ backs is even more thrilling. If you’ve got the guts, make me die from pleasure.”

Bo Mingyan licked her stinging lower lip, letting out a sound that was both a scoff and a teasing laugh. “No guts.”

Meng Xuran choked. “…You give up too fast!”

Bo Mingyan genuinely laughed this time. “Meng Jiaojiao, have some restraint.”

Meng Xuran: “…I’m already being plenty restrained. Want to experience what I’m like without restraint?”

Bo Mingyan quickened her pace, pushing both their suitcases.

“Hey! Bo Manman, why are you running?” Meng Xuran was both annoyed and amused as she caught up.

Unbeknownst to them, their playful banter had sparked rumors. The marketing director up front spread the word that “Little Director Meng ordered Designer Bo to change her shoes, and Little Bo looked furious.” By the time it passed through a few people, it had escalated to “The two have terrible chemistry; Little Director Meng is making life hard for Bo Mingyan.”

By the time they caught up with the group, the topic had shifted again.

The hot spring homestay at Xiaomufeng had limited rooms. The company arranged for two people per room, with twin or double beds assigned randomly, though swaps were allowed.

Bo Mingyan and Meng Xuran were assigned a twin room.

Meng Xuran frowned, displeased with the arrangement. She scanned the room—Gu Miao and Ava were in a double room, bickering playfully. Meng Xuran held out her key card. “Swap?”

To her surprise, the two who had just been arguing over sharing a bed replied in unison, “No.”

Meng Xuran: “…” Then what was all that fuss about?!

Ava, belatedly realizing she’d offended her boss, who was now radiating icy displeasure, quickly pointed elsewhere and laughed awkwardly. “There’s another double over there.”

Meng Xuran followed her finger to Lu Shan and Hu Jingjing.

Lu Shan, sensing Meng Xuran’s gaze, immediately understood. Having traveled with Meng Xuran before, she knew how particular Meng Xuran was about sleeping arrangements—the room had to be big, the bed even bigger. After a quick discussion with Hu Jingjing, Lu Shan handed over her key card.

Meng Xuran took it, her expression brightening.

Lu Shan, noticing Bo Mingyan approaching, suddenly remembered Meng Xuran wasn’t sleeping alone and asked blankly, “Director Meng, if you’re taking the double bed, where will Little Bo sleep?”

Just then, Bo Mingyan reached Meng Xuran’s side and held out her hand. “Give me the key card. Don’t lose it again.”

At home, Meng Xuran had lost her keys several times, prompting a switch to fingerprint locks.

Meng Xuran placed the card in her palm, still distracted by Lu Shan’s question. She found it absurd and joked, “Where else? The bathtub.”

Bo Mingyan pocketed the card and calmly corrected, “There is no bathtub.”

No bathtub, no indoor hot spring. The thought of her imagined plans going up in smoke irritated Meng Xuran. “Then sleep on the couch.”

And so, their “conflict” escalated further into “Bo Mingyan publicly mocked Little Director Meng for being forgetful, and Little Director Meng deliberately switched to a double bed to make her sleep on the couch.”

The protagonists of this drama remained oblivious, already wheeling their suitcases into their room.

The room wasn’t large, with a loft design and a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the resort’s backyard. The hot spring pools were arranged in tiers, steam rising from the bubbling springs, with lush, rolling mountains in the distance blending into the gray-blue horizon.

The living area was on the first floor, with a wooden spiral staircase next to the bathroom leading up to the bed.

A mushroom-shaped nightlight was plugged into the wall socket nearby, beneath which lay a remote control. Pressing it retracted the roof’s shades, revealing a curved glass ceiling for stargazing at night.

The door wasn’t fully closed, and the excited squeals of the girls next door drifted in.

Bo Mingyan shut the door and went upstairs to lay a disposable cover on the bed.

Meng Xuran sat on the first-floor sofa, admiring the light apricot sheepskin flats on her feet. She realized these weren’t hers—they were newly bought by Bo Mingyan.

“No wonder I didn’t see them packed before leaving.” Meng Xuran murmured to herself, lifting a foot to snap a couple of photos.

Afterward, she hopped up from the beanbag and called upstairs, “Manman, can we check out the ski suits now?”

“They’re in the suitcase.” Bo Mingyan replied. “The password is your birthday.”

Meng Xuran froze for a few seconds before her lips curled into a wide smile.

Inside the suitcase were two ski suits—one pink, one blue, with fluid color schemes like Alpine candies, made of reflective fabric that shifted hues from different angles. The pink one even had a hood with ear designs.

There was also a white, fox-like plushie-shaped anti-impact pad.

When Bo Mingyan came downstairs, she saw Meng Xuran already eagerly wearing the ski suit, the anti-impact pad strapped on, preening like a peacock as she twisted left and right, shaking the pad on her rear for Bo Mingyan’s admiration.

“Do you like them?” Bo Mingyan asked.

Meng Xuran beamed. “93.”

Though she didn’t outright say she liked them, her every action screamed adoration. Bo Mingyan’s eyes softened with amusement.

Meng Xuran went to admire herself in the mirror, declaring without modesty, “If I go out like this, I’ll definitely boost sales for your friend.”

Bo Mingyan chuckled. “Stop preening, peacock. Skiing’s tomorrow.”

Meng Xuran shot her a glare.

“The group chat says they’re heading to the hot springs.” Bo Mingyan said. “Where’s the swimsuit you bought me?”

Meng Xuran blinked, slowly retrieving two frosted storage bags from her suitcase and handing one to Bo Mingyan.

Bo Mingyan’s gaze traveled from the bag in her hand up to Meng Xuran’s face, studying her thoughtfully.

Meng Xuran tucked the bag behind her back, her eyes darting around. “This one’s mine.”

“Yours. I won’t take it.” Bo Mingyan said. “You go change first.”

Meng Xuran clutched the bag, stammering, “N-no, you go first.”

“Meng Jiaojiao,” Bo Mingyan eyed her. “Why are you nervous?”

“Who’s nervous?” Meng Xuran met her gaze head-on.

“If you’re not nervous, why won’t you change?” Bo Mingyan pressed.

“Who says I won’t?” Meng Xuran retorted. “Fine, I’ll change!”

“Then go ahead,” Bo Mingyan nodded toward the bathroom.

Their eyes locked in a stalemate.

Meng Xuran caved first, shuffling reluctantly into the bathroom.

While Meng Xuran changed, Bo Mingyan messaged Liu Yang to borrow his laptop. Liu Yang agreed readily, saying he’d bring it to her at dinner.

Bo Mingyan replied: Thanks.

At the same time, the bathroom door opened. Meng Xuran emerged wrapped in a towel, her long legs bare, toes wiggling in her slippers. The loosely draped towel hinted at her curvaceous figure.

“I’m done,” Meng Xuran said, tightening the towel. “Your turn.”

Bo Mingyan raised an eyebrow, taking the frosted bag into the bathroom. When she pulled out the swimsuit inside, she froze.

Meng Xuran called from outside, “Done yet?”

A few minutes later, Bo Mingyan opened the door, also wrapped in a towel, her hair pulled free from the fabric. “Done. Let’s go.”

Meng Xuran swallowed. “Let me see.”

“See what?” Bo Mingyan glanced at her through the mirror. “You’ll see it at the hot springs.”

Before she finished speaking, she was pushed forward, her hands instinctively bracing against the sink. The cool marble seeped into her palms, and without her hands holding it, the towel slipped from her shoulders.

The swimsuit was a backless bikini, with thin strings tied around her neck and waist, fully revealing the spider lily tattoo blazing across her pale back.

The bottom was a tie-sided thong.

The minimal fabric accentuated her curves.

A thong really is the most suitable.

“Quit staring. Aren’t we going?” Bo Mingyan said, though she didn’t move.

Meng Xuran looked up, meeting Bo Mingyan’s gaze in the mirror. She commanded fiercely, “You’re not going out like this.”

She leaned down, pressing her soft lips to Bo Mingyan’s back.

A burning kiss mark bloomed.

Bo Mingyan’s fingers curled against the marble countertop, her voice hoarse. “You won’t let me, yet you bought this for me?”

Between kisses, Meng Xuran muttered, “I was counting on the hotel having a private hot spring so only I could see you in it. But you convinced me to change hotels. This is your fault.”

Bo Mingyan laughed incredulously. “Are you even making sense?”

Meng Xuran planted another strawberry in response.

Bo Mingyan: “…”

Meng Xuran couldn’t stop herself, her lips trailing upward. Her fingers toyed with one of the bikini ties, itching to undo it.

Just as she was about to, Bo Mingyan yanked a towel from the wall, spread it over the sink, and spun around, lifting Meng Xuran onto the counter. Her gaze dropped to the snowy peaks peeking from the deep V of Meng Xuran’s swimsuit. “And what about you? Planning to go out like this? The magistrates are free to burn down houses while the commoners aren’t allowed to light lamps?”

Meng Xuran, dissatisfied with her position, tilted her chin up and let out a soft “Hmph”—though the sound quickly morphed into something else.

A faint pink bloomed across her chest.

The suction wasn’t hard.

But it was maddening.

Meng Xuran arched her neck, her fingers tangling in Bo Mingyan’s hair, then loosening to trail down her spine, seeking out a tie and winding it around her finger like she had with Bo Mingyan’s hair—then pulling.

Bo Mingyan looked up, meeting Meng Xuran’s dazed eyes before dropping to her bitten lower lip.

The ambiguous atmosphere was a spark away from igniting.

Just then, a group passed by outside, their laughter and chatter filtering into the room. Both women froze like startled birds, halting their movements. Bo Mingyan’s phone on the counter also rang.

It was Ava.

Bo Mingyan steadied her breathing and answered. Ava urged her to hurry to the hot springs—a quick dip before dinner.

Dressed like this, there was no way they could go.

Bo Mingyan noticed something and pressed a hand to the right-side tie, glaring at Meng Xuran, who smiled sweetly and obediently retied the left-side string she’d loosened.

Worried Meng Xuran might act up again while she was on the phone, Bo Mingyan made an excuse about having work to do and hung up.

Meng Xuran swung her legs on the counter. “What now? No hot springs.”

“The front desk sells swimsuits. We’ll buy some after dinner and go tomorrow,” Bo Mingyan swatted away her wandering hands. “Behave.”

“Or what?” Meng Xuran challenged.

“Or I’ll make it so you can’t get off this counter.” Bo Mingyan threatened, thinking it sounded intimidating.

Instead, Meng Xuran’s eyes lit up with anticipation.

Bo Mingyan: “…”

Meng Xuran, seeing her stunned expression, burst into laughter.

Bo Mingyan sighed. “Just change already. Don’t catch a cold.”

Meng Xuran giggled and complied.

They took turns changing, their antics delaying them until dinner time.

Dinner was at the buffet restaurant south of the hotel, with everyone split across several tables. Bo Mingyan sat with the haute couture team, while Meng Xuran joined the senior executives at the next table.

As they finished eating, Bo Mingyan borrowed Liu Yang’s laptop. Liu Yang remarked, “I thought you needed it for work, but you’re just gaming.”

“Checking something.” Bo Mingyan said offhandedly.

Ava asked, “What game?”

“Glory,” Liu Yang answered.

The marketing director at the next table overheard and exclaimed, “I used to play that! Back when the ‘Blade Forging Grandmaster Little Butterfly’ was around, it was the golden age of blademasters. After Little Butterfly quit, I tried leveling my own Blade Forging Grandmaster. Damn, three months and I still couldn’t do it. Gave up and uninstalled in frustration.”

Someone asked, “That hard?”

“So hard!” the marketing director said. “To this day, there hasn’t been a second Blade Forging Grandmaster. The forging manual is split into three volumes, hidden in three different caves—Demon’s Den, Kiln, and Cavern. The monsters are tough, and you need constant mana replenishment. Even if you get the manual, it’s useless without rare materials. There’s this ‘Seven-Colored Ore’ that’s practically impossible to farm. You need skill, wealth, and luck—all three.”

The group murmured in awe.

Just then, Meng Xuran returned with a plate of mini cakes. Hearing this, she remarked casually, “The Seven-Colored Ore is easy to farm. Just create two alt accounts, use them to pin down useless NPCs, and have your main account sneak into the Ghost Realm to steal it while the Ghost Ancestor sleeps.”

Everyone turned to stare at her.

At the same time, Bo Mingyan’s laptop displayed an old promotional post for the game, featuring a leaderboard screenshot. Under “Blade Forging Grandmaster,” the name [Xu Ran Butterfly Dream] was clearly visible.

Bo Mingyan looked up at Meng Xuran, who faltered mid-step.

The air froze for two seconds before Meng Xuran averted her gaze and said blandly, “There are guides online.”

The marketing director scratched his head. “I couldn’t find any.”

“Search ‘Little Butterfly Seven-Colored Ore,’” Meng Xuran said.

“Director Meng plays Glory too?” Liu Yang asked.

Meng Xuran hummed in affirmation, glancing at Bo Mingyan’s laptop and spotting the game’s interface. Her lashes fluttered.

Bo Mingyan had already closed the leaderboard page, acting as if she hadn’t noticed anything. She exited the game and asked Meng Xuran casually, “Remember your in-game name now?”

“I do,” Meng Xuran said, forcing calm. “Nan Ge Zi.”

Bo Mingyan frowned slightly, unconsciously typing “Nan Ge Zi.” She meant to search for the name in-game but forgot she’d already closed it. Instead, the web search pulled up a result with the line “In dreams, the carefree butterfly, light as a feather” from Su Shi’s Nan Ge Zi.

Instantly, Bo Mingyan recalled the person on Weibo who had liked her posts—also named Nan Ge Zi.

She returned the laptop to Liu Yang and pulled out her phone, opening Weibo to find that account.

A few months ago, Nan Ge Zi had posted a photo—a painting of a woman’s back, with a fluffy black cat tail draped over her shoulder like a stole.

The tail was sleek and glossy, its tip tinged brown.

Xiao Man’s tail.

Xu Ran Butterfly Dream.

Nan Ge Zi.

Two accounts.

The dots connected into a line.

Bo Mingyan’s heart skipped a beat.