When the check hit her in the face, Zhou Er closed her eyes.
She opened them again.
Meng Ying looked at her with a proud expression, enunciating each word: “To hell with your good resources, I don’t want them! I was never cut out for this line of work. I’m going to be a non-celebrity!”
She must have been drinking. Up close, the hot breath that puffed onto Zhou Er’s face was mixed with her unique sweet scent, which wasn’t cloying at all.
It was just, incredibly cute.
Yes, Miss Zhou, who had been lofty and noble her whole life, had been slapped in the face for the first time, yet only one thought occupied her mind: Meng Ying is so cute. And when she’s drunk, she’s even cuter.
A breeze blew in from the window, brushing past Meng Ying’s long hair, gently circling the hem of her LV long dress, and creeping up from her slender ankles to her heart.
Zhou Er looked at her calmly and agreed, “Okay.”
Meng Ying was stunned for a moment. “Huh?”
Zhou Er grabbed Meng Ying’s wrist, which was still raised in mid-air, and gently lowered it. She took the checks and glanced at them. One was from Qi Ke, the other from Song Yushi. She smiled and said, “I said okay. You don’t want the resources, fine. You want to be a non-celebrity, fine. You want to run a hot pot restaurant, fine.”
All of these things required her permission.
For this brief moment, she was happy that she could influence Meng Ying’s decisions.
After speaking, Zhou Er looked past Meng Ying at Song Yushi and Qi Ke, who were watching her warily. After a brief exchange, she turned her gaze back and, in as calm a tone as possible, asked for Meng Ying’s opinion—was she willing to go back and stay with her for one night?
Meng Ying was easy to fool. Zhou Er had known this for a long time. With just a few words, Meng Ying was dizzily leaning on her shoulder, willing to go back with her.
The early summer evening breeze was still cool. Zhou Er draped the jacket her assistant had brought over Meng Ying, sent the assistant home, and then helped Meng Ying into the passenger seat by herself.
The seatbelt clicked into place.
Meng Ying rested her head on the soft cushion, her mouth slightly open in her sleep, glistening with moisture. Zhou Er was mesmerized for a moment and was slow to close the car door. Meng Ying shifted uncomfortably and slightly opened her eyes.
Her moist gaze was enough to soften anyone’s heart.
Zhou Er reached out, her cold fingertips resting on Meng Ying’s lips. Under Meng Ying’s dazed gaze, she gently rubbed her lips, watching them grow redder.
Finally, Meng Ying spoke hesitantly, “…What are you doing?”
Zhou Er was calm. “It’s a little dirty, I’m helping you wipe it.”
Meng Ying stammered, “Oh.”
Then she obediently leaned there and let her wipe, not questioning whether it was right or wrong, not arguing whether it was reasonable. Whatever Zhou Er said, she believed, like a lazy little kitten.
Zhou Er had seen a set of photos of Meng Ying before.
In the dead of winter, she was wearing a thick down jacket and a white scarf, bouncing along behind her teammates like a little trinket. A fan had reposted it with the caption: “If I got my hands on a sticky rice ball like this, I’d sprint a hundred meters with her in my arms.”
It was the same now. Now, she was the only one who could tuck her into her pocket.
Zhou Er had come from a banquet. The host had given out key cards to a whole floor of presidential suites, as if they were free, spending lavishly.
Zhou Er wrapped an arm around Meng Ying’s waist and helped her into the master bedroom, pulling back the covers and placing her on the double bed.
Meng Ying collapsed onto the pillow as if she were made of water. The hem of her long-sleeved dress rode up, revealing a beautiful waistline, which was then covered as the silk duvet fell.
Zhou Er had never taken care of anyone before and was terribly clumsy, yet she did it with immense seriousness.
When she finally heard Meng Ying’s long, steady breathing, she let out a sigh of relief. But just as she sat down on the nearby sofa, Meng Ying suddenly sat up in bed.
Zhou Er was startled and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Meng Ying stared blankly at her own shadow on the opposite wall. After a good while, she turned back, her eyes full of grievance. “I haven’t taken a shower yet!”
Zhou Er: “…”
The hot water was plentiful, pattering against her body, seeping into her backless dress, and turning cold in an instant.
Zhou Er adjusted the temperature and, without turning her head, said, “Come in.”
Barefoot, Meng Ying stumbled in, holding onto the glass door for support. The bathroom was quite large, easily accommodating two people without feeling cramped. Zhou Er lowered her eyes, catching a glimpse of Meng Ying’s abdomen out of the corner of her eye. She closed her eyes and said, “You go first.”
Just as she was about to leave, Meng Ying suddenly stumbled. Zhou Er reflexively caught her.
Steam filled the air.
Meng Ying leaned against her, her delicate skin pressing against hers, stoking a fire. Zhou Er’s heart leaped. She pinched Meng Ying’s chin, pinning her against the wall, her tone fierce. “You told me to let you go, but why won’t you let me go?”
The hot water had sobered Meng Ying up considerably. She stared at Zhou Er blankly for about half a minute before letting out a scream, pushing her away hard, and covering her chest. “You, you, you—”
Meng Ying’s push was soft and weak, barely making a ripple. Zhou Er took two steps back and averted her gaze. “Just take a quick rinse. The towel is on the rack. I’ll be outside the door. Call me if you need anything.”
After speaking, she pushed open the door and walked out.
Meng Ying’s eyes widened slightly.
In her shock, there was also a hint of confusion.
She had never seen this side of Zhou Er.
Who was Zhou Er? The top artist at their company, always lofty and looking down on everyone, exuding an “unapproachable” aura. Her temper was notoriously bad, both spoiled and domineering.
A Zhou Er like this, even when her tone was calm and steady, one could still detect a hint of panic through the cracks.
She was afraid Meng Ying would reject her.
She was afraid Meng Ying would tell her to get lost.
Zhou Er leaned against the wall outside the bathroom, lost in thought, remembering the first time she saw Meng Ying.
Back then, Qi Ke was going through a phase, insisting on entering the entertainment industry to showcase her singing talent, only to be stuffed into a girl group. Qi Ke sat in the back of the Rolls-Royce, slapping the leather seat. “Tell me, is this reasonable? I see a beautiful girl and I can’t walk straight!”
Zhou Er, who was driving, sneered, “Aren’t all girl groups the same? All produced by the same hospital.”
“You don’t know shit!” Qi Ke calmed down, then cautiously leaned forward, her voice conspiratorial. “You have no idea how beautiful our Captain is. When she smiles, it’s so, so sweet, and when she’s not smiling, she’s so, so beautiful.”
Zhou Er rolled her eyes at Qi Ke in the rearview mirror. “Have you even graduated from middle school?”
Qi Ke was confused. “You know my academic qualifications, don’t you?”
Zhou Er: “Your vocabulary for compliments makes me think you haven’t.”
“…” Qi Ke was at a loss for words. She muttered under her breath, “It’s not that my vocabulary is lacking, it’s that our Captain is so beautiful she makes you lose the ability to express yourself. I’ll take you to meet her someday.”
“Aren’t there photos?”
“She’s eighteen hundred times more beautiful in person than in photos!”
“…”
That was too much of an exaggeration.
Qi Ke gave her a ticket to their first handshake event, which she tossed into a corner. She was older than Qi Ke, in her third year of university, and had been assigned to help out at a family branch company. She was busy spinning like a top every day. By the time she remembered, the handshake event had already begun.
She hesitated for a moment but still wanted to maintain her friendship with Qi Ke, so she had her driver take her to the venue.
It was a complimentary VIP ticket, with a front-row seat.
By the time Zhou Er arrived, the meet-and-greet was already halfway through. The fans’ emotions were running high, and they were waving banners and support light sticks incessantly. There were both male and female fans, shouting their idols’ names with gusto.
“Qi Ke!”
“Zhong Yi!”
“Chengzhi!”
“Song Yushi!”
“Meng Ying—”
It seemed to be this Meng Ying’s solo stage. The lift had just risen, and the screams were even louder than for the others. Zhou Er was startled, and her high heel slipped, nearly causing her to fall.
And at that moment, the person on stage began to sing.
As soon as she opened her mouth, Zhou Er was almost sent to her grave—it was horrendously bad, unlike anything she had ever heard. How did someone with this level of skill get into a girl group?
Just as Zhou Er was about to look up to see who was singing, a security guard came over and told her to return to her seat as soon as possible.
Annoying.
Zhou Er clutched her ticket. To her left was the terrible singing, to her right was the security guard’s impatient urging. Her annoyance reached its peak. She resisted the urge to turn and leave, found her seat, sat down, and looked up angrily.
At first, she saw nothing.
The lights in the front row were too bright, and the stage effects were setting off sparks at that moment. As they gradually dissipated, confetti flew in mid-air. She saw Meng Ying—
A black short skirt and stockings, black cat ears, like a little black wildcat, all claws and teeth.
A blue rose was drawn at the corner of her eye.
Demonic.
Yet pure.
Extremely cute, extremely tempting.
Zhou Er heard someone shouting the name of the person on stage. After only a frozen moment, the person on stage smiled. The blue rose slowly bloomed with her smile. Her panting was amplified by the microphone, right in her ear. She waved her hand. “Good evening, everyone! Thank you for coming to see us.”
The cheers grew even louder.
How could a newly debuted group have so many fans?
Zhou Er looked back and saw someone waving a light-up sign with “Ying” on it. A tacky pink sign, but with the character “Ying,” it was surprisingly beautiful.
“…I’m so nervous. I was off-key for a few lines just now, don’t laugh at me!”
—More than a few lines.
“Huh? That’s right, I missed a few beats in the dance too. The Captain is going to lecture me again when I get off stage. I promise you all, I’ll go back and practice hard!”
—The fans didn’t seem to believe her.
“Thank you for liking me. I’ll be heading down now. See you later!”
—Her popularity was inexplicably high.
Are people these days so focused on looks?
As Zhou Er thought, she opened her phone and, after a moment, searched for Meng Ying’s name. There was an entry on Baidu Baike, but her resume wasn’t very impressive. Even her ideal type was the same generic answer given by the entertainment company—
Good-looking, and sunny.
Zhou Er put away her phone, thinking absently that she seemed to fit at least one criterion, since Meng Ying hadn’t specified whether she liked men or women.
“Pfft—”
Qi Ke spat out the coffee she had just drunk, ruining Zhou Er’s EL loungewear. She looked incredulous. “Love at first sight? Big sister, was it her feelings you fell for, or her face?”
Zhou Er calmly pulled out a tissue. She hadn’t removed her makeup, and the overly seductive makeup from the day now looked softer. The corner of her winged eyeliner held a faint smile. “Her face, I guess.”
Qi Ke wiped her mouth and muttered, “No wonder you came to see all of our tour concerts these past few months. I thought you were here to see me.”
Zhou Er said mercilessly, “What do you count for?”
Qi Ke: “…”
Choosing a lover over a friend!
Qi Ke teased her, “Hey, didn’t you say that all girl group members are produced by the same hospital?”
“…” Zhou Er glared at Qi Ke, her double standard on full display. “She’s different.”
“How is she different?”
“Is anyone else’s skill level as bad as hers?”
“…Do you really like her?”
“…”
“Well, do you want me to introduce you? You can start as friends. Our girl group members can’t date. If you still like her after she graduates from the group, you can confess then, right?” Qi Ke suggested.
But Zhou Er shook her head.
Qi Ke hummed questioningly. “Why?”
No.
Zhou Er looked at the dark sky outside, her fingers under her sleeve twitching unconsciously. She thought, it’s not enough. Just knowing Meng Ying is not enough.
She wanted to make Meng Ying see only her.
Why wait for updates? Get all chapters now and read the entire story on your schedule.
