Two Faced Lover - Chapter 84

84: Warming

He Chencheng.

Each time these three syllables circled in Meng Xuran’s mind, her body grew colder. She bit down hard on her lower lip, pearly teeth leaving deep marks on the soft flesh.

The nerve in her temple throbbed insistently. Unconsciously, Meng Xuran began picking at the skin beside her fingernails.

Nanquan City wasn’t small—with seven or eight subway lines and a river dividing the north and south districts—but it wasn’t so large that certain people wouldn’t cross paths again.

After the merger of two middle schools, Meng Xuran had attended the same school as He Chencheng. When she skipped a grade, they ended up in the same year, though different classes. She hadn’t even known who he was.

Later, Meng Xuran skipped ahead again and tested into First High School, while He Chencheng—after being held back—was sent there by his family’s money. Their paths should have remained separate.

But one day, while gaming with Bo Mingyan, she’d shared many stories from her past. The very next P.E. class, Meng Xuran overheard He Chencheng bragging to his friends about how he’d driven Bo Mingyan away.

In that instant, Meng Xuran felt as if electrocuted. His words and the image of Bo Mingyan leaving intertwined into icy arrows, carving bloody furrows across her heart.

She’d hurled the volleyball in her hands at him, watching his nose bleed.

She’d glared at that group, wishing her gaze could turn into blades, slicing He Chencheng and those laughing along into a thousand pieces.

Yet it still hadn’t felt like enough.

Only when she tentatively asked Bo Mingyan if she hated the “disgusting younger brother” who’d forced her abroad did she find some release:

“Having any emotion toward someone—good or bad—means keeping them in your heart. But hearts only have so much space. Why waste it on him?”

Bo Mingyan alone could pull her back from obsession.

Her fingers ached where she’d dug into them. Meng Xuran snapped back to the present, rubbing the crescent-shaped marks until they faded.

If they broke skin, Bo Mingyan would definitely scold her.

Curling her fingers, Meng Xuran stopped picking. She refilled the kettle, then cut off Sun Haoqi’s rambling pledges of loyalty: “You’re sure it was him who saw your phone?”

“It had to be… him.” Sun Haoqi launched into his reasoning again—it could only have been He Chencheng.

Meng Xuran interrupted, “I don’t want speculation. I need certainty.”

Sun Haoqi immediately backtracked, “I’m certain it was him! It couldn’t be anyone else!”

“How many people would believe your story over hard evidence? The surveillance clearly shows you taking photos.” Meng Xuran half-bluffed, half-threatened.

Sun Haoqi panicked, at a loss.

Meng Xuran guided him coolly, “Unless he admits to accessing your phone and transferring those photos himself.”

After a brief silence, Sun Haoqi caught on: “I’ll get him to confess.”

Manager material—quick on the uptake.

Hanging up, Meng Xuran gripped her phone like a brick, torn between hurling it and remembering Bo Mingyan’s words. After countless deep breaths and repetitions of “That trash isn’t worth my anger,” the urge passed.

Bo Mingyan’s edges had been smoothed by life’s cruelties. Her gentleness was refusing to let things affect her; her detachment was not deigning to remember those people. She’d drawn a circle around herself, living comfortably within it.

Yet some kept crossing that line.

Bo Mingyan might let bygones be bygones, but Meng Xuran repaid every slight. She wasn’t magnanimous or gentle—she demanded payment for every transgression.

Meng Xuran called Fu Junxue.

The line rang awhile before connecting. “What are you doing?” Meng Xuran demanded immediately.

“Fvck, sis—” Fu Junxue’s voice was hoarse, though not sleep-roughened. She cut off with a muffled groan, then snapped, “Do you know what time it is?!”

The first two syllables sounded suspiciously like a curse. Needing a favor, Meng Xuran let it slide. Without checking the time, she got to the point: “Is He Chencheng still at Fantasy?”

“He Chencheng?” Fu Junxue’s goldfish memory discarded unimportant people. “Who?”

Rubbing her temples, Meng Xuran prompted, “The hand model hired last year.”

“Oh~” Recognition dawned. “Still here.”

“Can you fire him?” Meng Xuran added, “I don’t want to see him in fashion again.”

Fu Junxue considered. “I could. Give me a reason.”

“You haven’t checked Weibo today?”

“Been busy—hardly touched my phone.” After a pause—likely scrolling Weibo—Fu Junxue asked, “He leaked the drafts?”

“No proof yet, but he’s involved.” Meng Xuran bit her lip, blinking rapidly to steady her tone. “He’s an annoying flea that won’t stop jumping.”

The last time Fu Junxue heard that flat delivery was when Meng Xuran first returned home, saying their grandmother’s shadow suffocated her like a man-eating giant.

After a beat, Fu Junxue said, “Got it. Go to sleep.”

Obediently sweet, Meng Xuran replied, “Thanks, sis.”

Fu Junxue scoffed. “Now I’m ‘sis.’ Usually it’s ‘Fu Junxue.'”

Meng Xuran laughed without denying it.

After handling matters, she returned to the bedroom with water. Bo Mingyan hadn’t stirred, sleeping in the same position as when she’d left.

Placing the glass on the nightstand, Meng Xuran crept back to her side, lifting the blanket in slow motion to slide under.

Bo Mingyan shifted slightly. Meng Xuran froze, half on the mattress, one leg dangling over the edge.

Only now did the cold seep in. She shivered violently—

Just as Xiao Man leaped onto the bed, wedging between them. Kneading the blankets, the cat settled in with thunderous purrs.

Traitor. Meng Xuran shot the cat a glare, then glanced at Bo Mingyan.

Moonlight spilled across the bed, softening Bo Mingyan’s profile. Her eyelids fluttered—

Meng Xuran snapped her eyes shut, hanging precariously off the edge while monitoring Bo Mingyan’s movements.

Parched, Bo Mingyan roused slightly, instinctively tugging the blankets up. A twinge in her abdomen made her wince.

Xiao Man’s purrs summoned memories of that black kitten outfit—

She’d only realized its unique design after putting it on: sheer lace embroidered with layered petals, hollowed at the centers. The “tail” had been the most humiliating part—more exposing than nudity.

Especially when Meng Xuran admitted sewing it herself, gaze burning.

Heat flooded Bo Mingyan anew. That faux tail had traced her back until she’d grown numb to it, then—

“Manman, you really do like… unconventional methods.”

“So wet…”

Where had she learned such tricks?

Bo Mingyan smiled faintly, opening her eyes to find the “culprit” about to topple off the bed.

She hauled Meng Xuran back, flinching at her icy skin. Ignoring her soreness, Bo Mingyan pulled her close, tucking the blankets around them.

Meng Xuran’s lashes trembled imperceptibly.

Bo Mingyan’s warmth seeped into her, thawing the cold lodged in her bones.

Early in their cohabitation, they’d clashed over this: Bo Mingyan ran cold, craving contact for warmth, while Meng Xuran overheated easily, sticking limbs out to cool off—only to turn into an ice cube later.

Bo Mingyan had shoved her away repeatedly, even kicking her awake a few times.

After a week’s adjustment, Meng Xuran learned to warm herself at the edge before cuddling up.

She’d never realized Bo Mingyan endured the chill to heat her while awake.

Once sufficiently warmed, Bo Mingyan sat up slowly for water—

And noticed the glass on the nightstand.

It had been empty when she’d fallen asleep.

The water was still lukewarm.

Xiao Man brushed against her legs. The lazy cat only stirred when both humans were awake—

Bo Mingyan turned her head.

A shadow fell over her as Meng Xuran embraced her from behind, soft hair spilling over her shoulders, cheeks pressing close.

“Did I wake you?” Bo Mingyan rasped.

“No~ I was already up.”

“You faked sleep?”

“How else would I discover someone being such a sweet human heater?” Meng Xuran kissed her earlobe. “After all the times you’ve kicked me off, hm? And they call you the gentle one.”

“Gentle, my ass,” she grumbled.

Bo Mingyan chuckled. “They’d never guess the aloof Director Meng is this clingy in private.”

“I am not clingy!” Meng Xuran protested, then winced at Bo Mingyan’s voice. “Stop talking—you sound awful.”

Bo Mingyan raised a brow. “Whose fault is that?”

“I told you to be louder.” Meng Xuran countered. “You muffled yourself—of course your throat hurts.”

Memories surged—

Last night, Meng Xuran had coaxed relentlessly: “Manman, you sound so pretty—don’t hold back. Louder, okay?”

“Manman, if you want something, ask for it. Fingers or mouth? One or two? I can’t hear you…”

Bo Mingyan choked on her water, shooting Meng Xuran a glare.

Meng Xuran nuzzled her neck apologetically.

“Keep this up and you’ll push Xiao Man off.” Bo Mingyan murmured, ear tingling.

“He’s not that stu—”

With a thump, Xiao Man tumbled to the carpet, bewildered.

Meng Xuran: “…”

Bo Mingyan laughed. “Cats really do take after their owners.”

“Calling me stupid?” Meng Xuran tickled her in retaliation until Bo Mingyan surrendered.

They settled back under the covers, Meng Xuran sprawled possessively over Bo Mingyan, twirling her hair.

Hydrated, Bo Mingyan asked, “When did you get the water?”

“Earlier. Woke up thirsty and poured some for you too.”

“No wonder you were freezing.” Bo Mingyan turned with a wince.

“Hurt?”

“…My back aches.”

Meng Xuran grinned, earning another glare. Chastened, she propped herself up to massage Bo Mingyan’s waist.

Checking Weibo, they found the scandal already resolved—

The Assassination team had moved swiftly, posting evidence that debunked the plagiarism claims and exposed the smear campaign. Netizens mocked the half-baked scandal, speculating about rival studios or jealous competitors.

Yawning, Bo Mingyan let Meng Xuran take her phone. “Sleep.”

“Did Gu Miao find who took the photos?” Bo Mingyan slurred drowsily. “Did you handle them?”

Meng Xuran blinked. “Yes. All settled. Sleep.”

Reassured, Bo Mingyan drifted off, cradled securely as Meng Xuran kissed her forehead, stroking her back—

A safe harbor at last.

Meng Xuran didn’t mention the calls. She assumed Fu Junxue would fabricate grounds to fire He Chencheng, then quietly blacklist him from the industry. As long as he left fashion, their peace would remain unbroken.