Two Faced Lover - Chapter 75

75: New Year

Bo Mingyan dried her face and adjusted her collar to cover the hickey on her collarbone. Through the mirror, she gazed leisurely at Meng Xuran.

The latter, adhering to the principle that “as long as I’m not embarrassed, the embarrassment falls on others,” lifted her chin with an air of haughty arrogance. She spread the excess lotion on Bo Mingyan’s face: “It was you who replied to her, not me. You teach her.”

“Hmm~ So it was me who dreamed of replying to Lu Yo’s message,” Bo Mingyan nodded nonchalantly, reaching for her phone. “Which makes me the big, tough top.”

Pride at stake, Meng Xuran snatched the phone before Bo Mingyan could. She closed her eyes, giving up the struggle, and admitted: “I was half-asleep and replied with the wrong phone.”

Bo Mingyan raised a single eyebrow, feigning sudden realization with a drawn-out “Oh.”

“…” Meng Xuran pouted and muttered, “Who told you to have transparent cases on both phones?”

Her voice was too soft; Bo Mingyan only caught the keyword “phone case.” Thoughtfully, she glanced at the phone in Meng Xuran’s hand.

Noticing Bo Mingyan’s gaze, Meng Xuran assumed she wanted the phone back and handed it over.

“Weren’t you going to teach Lu Yo how to be a big, tough top? I certainly can’t teach that.” Bo Mingyan pressed her index finger against the phone and pushed it back, then tidied up the bathroom counter. “I’ll go cook. Take your time teaching her. If you’re hungry, grab a snack from the kitchen.”

“…”

The topic had long passed, and Meng Xuran had no intention of obediently teaching Lu Yo anything. She leaned the pink and blue toothbrush heads together, then trotted after Bo Mingyan out of the shower.

Her gaze inadvertently swept over the diary on the desk. Meng Xuran’s throat tightened as she asked, “You unpacked my suitcase too?”

“Yeah, just took everything out. Couldn’t tell where your things go, so I put your clothes in the washer and the rest on your desk.”

Bo Mingyan had already reached the doorway. She turned back, her eyes following Meng Xuran’s gaze to the pile of items on the desk. They skimmed over the hardcover diary with its password lock before returning to Meng Xuran’s tense face. Casually teasing, she asked, “Is there something you’re afraid I’ll see?”

Meng Xuran forced herself to look away, exhaling slightly in relief. Her lips parted, and out came her usual proud tone: “There’s nothing I’m afraid of you seeing.”

She even straightened her posture, radiating an air of righteous confidence.

Bo Mingyan nodded, testing the waters: “That diary too?”

Meng Xuran pressed her lips together, hesitating for a moment.

That little notebook held her longing for Bo Mingyan—and also hid her less admirable side.

People were strange like that. She wanted Bo Mingyan to believe in her steadfastness, to feel free to be herself without reservation, yet she couldn’t bring herself to lay everything bare before Bo Mingyan.

Meng Xuran glanced at the lock on the diary, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “Sure, if you can guess the password.”

Bo Mingyan chuckled. “I’ll guess when you’re ready to show me.”

“…”

Meng Xuran stood frozen for a moment. By the time she snapped out of it, Bo Mingyan had already left the room. She hurried after her: “Can I look at your Moments?”

Bo Mingyan paused. “Weren’t you going to teach Lu Yo? Why check Moments now?”

“What, is there something you’re afraid I’ll see?” Meng Xuran shot back, mirroring Bo Mingyan’s earlier words.

“No,” Bo Mingyan replied gently. “Just worried a certain ‘big, tough top’ might forget her teaching duties.”

“Teach my ass. Sister Deer’s been in relationships before—she’s probably more experienced than us. No need to embarrass ourselves.” Meng Xuran scrolled through Bo Mingyan’s Moments.

With so few friends, there weren’t many interesting posts—just a uniform stream of New Year’s Eve dinner photos.

Meng Xuran narrowed her eyes, zooming in on the corner of a photo Ava had posted where a sliver of clothing was visible. She pulled out her own phone and compared it to a recent post from Gu Miao. After a careful inspection, her eyebrows lifted.

Bo Mingyan recalled Lu Yo once mentioning that her long-distance relationship with Tao Xin was more platonic. Softly, she said, “She might genuinely lack experience.”

“Huh?” Meng Xuran pocketed her phone and continued scrolling through Bo Mingyan’s Moments, echoing Bo Mingyan’s earlier evasion: “Then I’ll teach her when she needs it~”

It was a classic stall tactic.

Bo Mingyan smiled silently.

In the kitchen, Bo Mingyan stopped and turned. “We woke up too late, and I didn’t prep anything ahead of time. New Year’s dinner might be slapdash.”

Caught off guard, Meng Xuran—frowning intently at her phone—walked straight into Bo Mingyan’s arms, bumping her nose. “Ouch.”

“What’s got you so engrossed?” Bo Mingyan steadied her and instinctively glanced at the phone.

She saw nothing—Meng Xuran had already turned off the screen.

“Nothing,” Meng Xuran stuffed the phone into her pocket and grabbed an apron for Bo Mingyan. “Just noticed Gu Miao’s clothes in Ava’s photo.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Bo Mingyan’s eyes.

“Didn’t expect that, did you?” Meng Xuran leaned in, adjusting the apron’s neck strap for Bo Mingyan before gathering her hair into a low ponytail. She lowered her voice conspiratorially: “Let me tell you a secret—Gu Miao once spent a night with a gorgeous woman. She wanted to see what the woman looked like the next morning, but the woman vanished before dawn. Gu Miao’s been searching for her ever since. Spicy, right~?”

Bo Mingyan laughed at her gossipy expression. “So the gorgeous woman is Ava?”

Meng Xuran shrugged and reached for another apron. “Most likely. Wait—how dare you call someone else a ‘gorgeous woman’ in front of your girlfriend?”

“You were the one who called her that first.” Bo Mingyan retorted, pulling ingredients from the fridge. When she turned and saw Meng Xuran tying an apron, she paused.

“Ah… right.” Meng Xuran slipped on the apron and shuffled over, presenting her back to Bo Mingyan. She swayed the ties playfully. “Tie this for me. We’ll make New Year’s dinner together—double the efficiency for a happy couple~”

Bo Mingyan hooked the ties with her fingers, chuckling softly as she tied a neat bow. Then she gathered Meng Xuran’s seaweed-like hair, securing it with a pearl hair tie. The smooth, jade-like skin at her nape peeked through the dark strands.

Unable to resist, Bo Mingyan tugged down the collar of Meng Xuran’s sweater and pressed a light kiss to the back of her neck.

The kiss was like a drizzle against her skin, carrying Bo Mingyan’s scorching warmth.

The window beside them reflected the cozy scene in the kitchen: Meng Xuran, head bowed, intently searching for recipes on her phone, while Bo Mingyan’s fingers still lingered on the bow at her waist. Her left hand held the sweater collar down, her head slightly tilted. The casually tied hair left a few strands framing her face, exuding a lazy elegance.

Her lips brushed Meng Xuran’s fair neck.

It looked like a painting—pure and beautiful. But Meng Xuran knew just how wanting that kiss had been.

The electrifying sensation left her floating, her mind melting into mush, all the recipes she’d looked up dissolving into nothing.

Seeing her dazed state, Bo Mingyan worried she’d cut herself and assigned her the safer task of peeling garlic.

Once done, with nothing else to do, Meng Xuran washed her hands and started taking pictures of Bo Mingyan chopping vegetables. “Manman, I’ve been meaning to tell you—the way you cook is just…”

Bo Mingyan tilted her head slightly. “Just what?”

“Mesmerizing.” Meng Xuran circled her, snapping photos from every angle. “I love seeing you like this, wrapped in the warmth of everyday life. It makes you feel less… untouchable.”

Bo Mingyan sighed. “Yesterday you said I didn’t like you, today I’m ‘untouchable’—what’s tomorrow’s accusation?”

“Tomorrow’s line is~” Meng Xuran’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Happy New Year, haha!”

Caught off guard, Bo Mingyan burst out laughing.

Mentioning yesterday’s conversation brought back memories of their wild night. After snapping a photo of Bo Mingyan’s profile, Meng Xuran’s gaze drifted to her hands. “My girlfriend’s hands are so pretty.”

“But mine aren’t bad either,” Meng Xuran stretched her own hand out, flashing a peace sign beside Bo Mingyan’s chopping. She admired the photo. “Tch, not just pretty—very capable.”

Look at how perfectly she chopped!

Bo Mingyan’s hand stilled. “…Meng Jiaojiao.”

Meng Xuran blinked. “Hm?”

“Get out.” Bo Mingyan plated the chopped vegetables.

Meng Xuran: “??? Why?!”

Bo Mingyan met her confused gaze and sighed almost imperceptibly. “Never mind.”

Meng Xuran was baffled. “No, we’re not dropping this. Why kick me out?”

Bo Mingyan stayed silent, continuing to slice bell peppers. Meng Xuran narrowed her eyes and planted herself beside her, staring intently. As she watched, she snapped another photo. Finally, Bo Mingyan couldn’t take it anymore. “You distract me.”

Meng Xuran had a strange magnetism.

In the kitchen, surrounded by the steam and warmth, that magnetism grew even stronger. Every word, every movement of hers tugged at Bo Mingyan’s nerves, pulling her attention relentlessly.

Meng Xuran arched an eyebrow. “Bo Manman, if your self-control is lacking, that’s not my fault.”

Bo Mingyan nodded in agreement. “Hence the ‘never mind.'”

Outmaneuvered, Meng Xuran: “…”

“I won’t get distracted. I’ll stir-fry, and you guide me.”

And just like that, Meng Xuran commandeered the cooking. Wielding a spatula in one hand and a plate of ingredients in the other, she stood before the sizzling oil like a warrior facing a dragon.

Bo Mingyan blinked. “Maybe I should—”

“No, I’ve got this.” Meng Xuran took a deep breath and dumped the vegetables in.

The water on the veggies met the hot oil with a violent sizzle, sending droplets flying. A few landed on Meng Xuran’s hand. The fearless chef of moments ago let out a yelp, brandishing the spatula like a sword as she backpedaled—only to stumble into Bo Mingyan’s steadying embrace.

Bo Mingyan laughed unkindly.

Meng Xuran glared over her shoulder, eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

That look melted Bo Mingyan’s heart. She covered Meng Xuran’s hand—still clutching the spatula—with her own and took over. “Crybaby. Where’s all that bravado now?”

The warmth of Bo Mingyan’s touch lingered. Embarrassed, Meng Xuran stayed silent.

“Pass me that plate next to the cutting board.” Bo Mingyan instructed.

Meng Xuran mumbled an “okay” and handed it over.

Bo Mingyan didn’t take it. “Pour it in.”

Meng Xuran obeyed, still wary, leaning back slightly. But this time, she held onto Bo Mingyan’s clothes, refusing to retreat.

Bo Mingyan’s eyes softened. She gave Meng Xuran’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “I was the same my first time cooking.”

Meng Xuran was stunned. “You retreated too?”

Bo Mingyan nodded.

“Can’t picture it.” The current Bo Mingyan was the epitome of calm and collected.

Bo Mingyan smiled. “Once, I even started a fire. Nearly burned my eyebrows off.”

Meng Xuran’s heart clenched. She suddenly remembered—by the time Bo Mingyan lived with Fu Junxue, she was already an excellent cook.

But before that, she’d learned alone.

For the rest of the meal, Meng Xuran insisted on cooking, with Bo Mingyan guiding her.

Once the dishes were served, the rookie chef was ecstatic, snapping countless photos before proudly posting them to her Moments. Bo Mingyan waited until she was done before picking up her chopsticks—aiming straight for Meng Xuran’s dishes.

Meng Xuran set her phone aside, watching eagerly.

Bo Mingyan met her sparkling gaze and teased, “Hmm~~”

Just then, Xiaoman hopped onto a chair, standing on her hind legs to sniff at the table. Unimpressed, she jumped down and sauntered off to lick her paws on the cat tree.

Meng Xuran’s heart was in her throat. “Well?!”

Bo Mingyan chewed slowly, then swallowed. “Delicious.”

Only then did Meng Xuran relax. Suspicious, she took a bite herself.

It was pretty good. The little princess preened, her eyebrows dancing with pride. “Guess I’ve got some talent~”

Bright and radiant, even the lighting seemed to dim in her presence. The oversized white turtleneck sweater she’d borrowed from Bo Mingyan only accentuated the soft blush on her cheeks.

She looked like a peach—ripe, juicy, and begging to be bitten.

Bo Mingyan suddenly felt both hungry and warm. Her fingers tugged at her shirt collar, undoing the top button. The casual design revealed a glimpse of her collarbone.

Meng Xuran bit her chopstick, her gaze snagging on the red mark against Bo Mingyan’s pale skin.

The contrast was obscenely alluring.

She licked her lips. “What should we do after dinner?”

Bo Mingyan ate leisurely. “Go to Jiangxinzhou to set off fireworks.”

“Oh…” Meng Xuran poked at the meat in her bowl, silently cursing herself for being such a little pervert. Well-fed and warm, all she could think about was sleeping with her girlfriend.

Bo Mingyan noticed her lack of enthusiasm. “Don’t want to go?”

“I do~” Meng Xuran looked up, flashing Bo Mingyan a sweet smile.

Bo Mingyan smiled back.

It was silly, but she loved it.

After dinner, they loaded the dishwasher, threw on their coats, and drove to Jiangxinzhou.

Unfamiliar with the route, Bo Mingyan reached for her phone to pull up GPS—only to realize Meng Xuran still had it.

After setting the navigation, Meng Xuran handed the phone back and mused, “Wonder if they sell fireworks at Jiangxinzhou.”

She hadn’t seen Bo Mingyan bring any, and when asked, Bo Mingyan had said, “We’ll watch others set them off.”

“You want to set some off?” Bo Mingyan asked.

“Not really,” Meng Xuran fiddled with the pom-poms on the coat Bo Mingyan had lent her. “Mostly just wanted to play with sparklers. Ever tried them?”

Bo Mingyan smirked. “I played with them before you were born.”

Meng Xuran scoffed but let it slide. “When I was little, they said sparklers could grant small wishes, and fireworks could grant big ones.”

Bo Mingyan asked, “How many did you make?”

“Just one.” Meng Xuran sighed dramatically. “It was too big. After that, I didn’t dare waste sparklers on small stuff.”

Bo Mingyan could picture a tiny Meng Xuran agonizing over it. Smiling, she asked, “What was the wish?”

“Not telling~” Meng Xuran sing-songed. “Wishes don’t come true if you say them.”

Bo Mingyan hummed. “Must’ve been huge, if it’s still not come true after all these years.”

The car fell silent for a long while.

As they neared Jiangxinzhou, Meng Xuran finally replied, “It’s in progress.”

But she was afraid it wouldn’t last a lifetime.

Bo Mingyan’s grip on the steering wheel tightened.

Fireworks were banned in Nanquan’s urban areas, permitted only at Jiangxinzhou in the south and Bailuzhou in the north. On New Year’s Eve, crowds flocked to both spots.

After parking, Meng Xuran’s heart sank—no firework vendors in sight.

Bo Mingyan popped the trunk. “Come get today’s ‘flowers.'”

Meng Xuran’s eyes widened at the stash of fireworks and sparklers inside. “Ahhh! Manman, Manman, how are you this perfect?!” She threw her arms around Bo Mingyan’s neck, nuzzling into her.

Bo Mingyan laughed, tickled by her enthusiasm.

They found a quieter spot, first playing with sparklers while admiring others’ fireworks.

The night wind, damp with river mist, tangled their hair together. The sparklers in their hands traced arcs through the air, gently colliding.

Bo Mingyan was photographing the fireworks when Meng Xuran turned and kissed her cheek, snapping a selfie of the two of them.

After the kiss, Meng Xuran darted off to play “fire dragon” with some nearby kids.

Bo Mingyan touched her cheek, her heart still racing.

Later, as she prepared to post the firework photos, she opened WeChat to find Lin Huixin’s chat at the top—a message sent and quickly retracted.

Frowning, Bo Mingyan ignored it and went to her Moments, only to discover Meng Xuran had posted something from her account:

Caption: “No comparison, no harm.”

Below it was a nine-grid photo set:

The first photo was a close-up of her hands chopping vegetables. The second was Meng Xuran flashing a “peace” sign. The third was a backview photo of her taken by Meng Xuran. The fourth was a backview photo of Meng Xuran that she had taken. The fifth, in the center, was a shot of the prepared dishes on the table. The remaining four photos were side-by-side shots of the two of them.

Also included was a screenshot of a chat between Meng Yao and Meng Xuran.

In the screenshot, Meng Yao had accurately pointed out which dishes were made by Bo Mingyan, remarking that even the plating revealed a clear difference in skill. She sighed, “How can there be such a gap between two girls?” Meng Xuran had simply replied: “Well, they both call you ‘Mom’ anyway.”

The post was set to “Only Lin Huixin”.

Bo Mingyan’s breath caught.

Checking Lin Huixin’s Moments, she found a post from around their kitchen time: a photo of He Chencheng’s smashed cucumber salad, captioned “So capable!”

No wonder Meng Xuran had been distracted enough to bump into her earlier.

“No comparison, no harm.”
“They both call you ‘Mom’ now though.”

Bo Mingyan didn’t know how to feel. Lin Huixin’s favoritism no longer stirred strong emotions in her—no anger, no sorrow, just a dull weight like clouds pressing on her heart.

But now, that weight had lifted, replaced by something else entirely.

She didn’t resent Meng Xuran’s meddling. In fact, the petty retaliation left her feeling like she’d stepped into sunlight after rain.

Thanks to that post, Lin Huixin had retracted whatever she’d planned to say.

And Bo Mingyan was glad.

She didn’t want an unhappy New Year.

Meng Xuran returned from playing with the kids, spotting Bo Mingyan on her phone. Nervous, she stammered, “If… if you don’t like it, you can delete it.”

“Don’t.” Bo Mingyan pocketed her phone. “More sparklers?”

Meng Xuran shook her head. “Almost midnight.”

Bo Mingyan nodded. “I’ll set off the fireworks.”

At the stroke of twelve, Jiangxinzhou erupted in light.

Rockets shot skyward, bursting into blossoms of fire that dripped like embers into the river, merging water and sky in shimmering reflections.

Standing on the slope, Meng Xuran pulled Bo Mingyan into her arms and whispered, “Happy New Year, Manman.”

Bo Mingyan reminded her, “Time for another big wish, Meng Jiaojiao.”

Meng Xuran looked up at the flickering sky.

Years ago, she’d wished upon countless fireworks—wishing Bo Mingyan would love her one day, wishing they could be together, always.

It had felt like too big a wish.

So big that she’d feared even small wishes might jinx it.
So big that she’d thought it impossible.

Now, held in Bo Mingyan’s heart, she felt like the luckiest person alive—certain no other wish could ever matter again.

Bo Mingyan was her future.

Tears welled as Meng Xuran clung tighter. “I’m giving it to you,” she choked out.

Giving you my wish—because you are my wish.

Bo Mingyan’s heart melted.

As the fireworks faded, Meng Xuran asked, “What did you wish for?”

“Didn’t you say wishes don’t come true if you tell them?” Bo Mingyan teased.

Meng Xuran pouted. “But what if it’s about me? You’ve got to tell me so I can make it happen!”

Just as she thought Bo Mingyan wouldn’t answer, Bo Mingyan spoke:

“I never used to think cooking could make someone happy. For me, it was just a way to save money—to not starve. I never cared much for New Year’s either. Abroad, there was no Spring Festival, no New Year’s Eve.”

She’d always been alone.

Meng Xuran’s chest ached. She held Bo Mingyan tighter.

“But now,” Bo Mingyan paused, drawing warmth from Meng Xuran’s embrace before meeting her eyes, “I hope every year is like this one, every day as sweet as today.”

“Can you make that happen, Meng Jiaojiao?” Bo Mingyan brushed a kiss to her lips.

Meng Xuran cupped her face and kissed her deeply. “That might just be my specialty.”