Shao Yinan’s face darkened; Wen Yin noticed it without overthinking. Maybe he simply couldn’t stand seeing Xiao Mo. She almost accepted that as explanation—until she saw Xiao Mo step in front of them, as if determined to make something clear.
“I know—I was wrong to treat you like Wen Zhi’s stand-in before. But now…” Xiao Mo hesitated. Everything his expression couldn’t say spilled out in his eyes. He had used to see her as a replacement, yes, but now he was helplessly, hopelessly in love with her. She shone in a way he couldn’t resist reaching for.
“So what? He has a boyfriend now.” Shao Yinan’s voice was cool, sharp.
“Mr. Xiao, are you sure you can control yourself?” another man — one of Shao’s friends — threw the barb like a drawn blade. Tension tightened between them.
“Excuse me, please.” Wen Yin’s voice cut through—clean and pleasant, but with an edge. Xiao Mo stared at her in disbelief. He had explained himself before; why did she still look at him like that?
She let out a light laugh. The expression on Xiao Mo’s face was rare enough that it caught Shao’s attention too.
“What are you laughing at?” Shao demanded.
Wen Yin reached for Shao Yinan’s hand and wrapped her fingers around his. Their palms met, warm and steady. Heat crept up to her fingertips.
“I’m laughing because you’re so foolish,” she said simply.
Then she didn’t linger. She pulled Shao’s hand and walked away. She was tired of the entanglement, tired of explaining. If Xiao Mo wanted to think the worst, she didn’t owe him more words.
Xiao Mo watched them go, his gaze sinking like something weighed down. Wen Yin’s half-smile had told him something wasn’t right. He flexed his fingers as though a thought had taken hold, then, after a long moment, dialed his phone.
“Look into that incident from years ago,” he ordered. His grip on the phone was tight enough to whiten his knuckles. A shadow passed over his face; his eyes were suddenly dangerous.
Shao Yinan buckled Wen Yin’s seatbelt with meticulous care, but he didn’t let go right away. He looked at her with those warm, almond-shaped eyes—serious, searching.
“So you were the one who saved Xiao Mo back then.” It wasn’t phrased as a question. For Shao, it was a fact.
Wen Yin’s brows arched. Saying she’d rescued her ex in front of her current boyfriend felt odd, but what puzzled her more was how Shao had found out.
“You were snooping?” she asked, surprised.
Shao had expected this day eventually. “To be precise, I looked into all three of your exes.” His voice deepened; a memory flickered across his face. He brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead with a cool fingertip.
“That’s why my Yin is so guarded—so careful,” he murmured. “All thanks to those three, aren’t they?”
A small chill ran through Wen Yin at the casual coldness of his tone. After days together, she knew the signs—this was the crest of his temper.
She lifted her face, delicate features flush, their noses almost touching. Her breath hit his cheek, warm and close.
“I won’t forgive them easily,” she said softly. “People should pay for what they did, right?”
Even in those two short sentences, her tone had smoothed Shao’s brewing storm away. He let out a soft exhale. It wasn’t his place to interfere with everything in her past; and she wouldn’t want him to overreach.
“So Wen Zhi has been pretending to be your savior in front of those men?” Shao’s question sounded like a statement. Wen Yin nodded nonchalantly.
“Let her. Maybe Wen Zhi always cared about them that much.” Wen Yin thought of the last life she’d had—Wen Zhi, worshipped and adored; and she, cast as the vicious antagonist. If Wen Zhi wanted that outcome, she might be disappointed this time.
“I just want to live my life,” Wen Yin continued. “I don’t pay them much mind.”
Shao’s eyes softened, a smile hiding behind his gaze. Then, with a sudden, vulnerable honesty, his dark eyes glistened like a small dog who’d been left behind.
“But I’m jealous.” He didn’t beat around it. “How do you plan to make it up to me?”
They’d been together long enough that her heart tripped. Her cheeks warmed, like a ripe peach begging to be bitten. Wen Yin closed her eyes and took a moment to summon courage—so far in their relationship, Shao had always been the initiator. It was her turn.
She pressed her lips to his with a quick, nervous kiss, then snapped her eyes open, flustered. It was more of a peck than anything. Wen Yin thought she still had a ways to go before she could kiss with Shao’s kind of heat.
But Shao didn’t give her time. His lips were back on hers, deeper, surer. Wen Yin, dizzy and unsteady, felt his low chuckle vibrate against her. He pulled back just enough to murmur, breath warm on her mouth, “This—this is a kiss.”
Outside, the world moved at a different pace.
News of Wen Yin quitting the industry had burst across app homepages like wildfire. It wasn’t just any celebrity leaving—this was the girlfriend of top idol Shao Yinan, who had gained fame after their appearance on a dating reality show. Paparazzi and publicity teams, hungry for clicks, pounced. Shao had always maintained a squeaky-clean image before the show; now the media ravenously fed on every angle.
Push notifications kept streaming in. Mrs. Qi, idly scrolling, finally tapped the headline. Wen Yin—quitting the industry? Her perfectly manicured fingers opened the clip, and the video filled the screen.
On the livestream, Wen Yin smiled. Her doe-like eyes sparkled like a scatter of stars. Mrs. Qi reached out, touching the face on the screen as if she could steady it with the tips of her fingers. When she lifted her hand, tears had gathered unbidden at the corners of her eyes.
She glanced at the mirror. Her own eyes mirrored Wen Yin’s—same dark, deer-bright gaze—but the corners were red rimmed, the line of her lids trembling with a softness that no camera could hide.