Chapter 2

Just like that, becoming Pei Ruoqing’s constant companion went remarkably smoothly.

After a month of military training, everyone in our class knew Pei Ruoqing and I were inseparable.

Even Ah Qiu sighed, “You two could both be straight and your couple chemistry would still shine through.”

I, who wasn’t straight at all, rubbed my palms together and lowered my gaze to the hem of Pei Ruoqing’s shirt. A bittersweet ache filled my chest.

Pei Ruoqing lifted my chin. “Look up.”

Tonight was the post-training arts gala, and I was performing onstage.

Pei Ruoqing was filling in my eyebrows. She neither confirmed nor denied Ah Qiu’s teasing.

Ah Qiu was so lost in shipping us that she’d forgotten the rest of the world. She teased, “Little Qiqi, you look so shy—just like Ah Qing’s young bride.”

I turned to protest, but Pei Ruoqing steadied my chin with one fingertip. “Don’t move.”

She stood while I sat.

I tilted my face up; she looked down.

Her eyes were beautiful enough to drown in, yet with my guilty thoughts, I didn’t dare meet them.

My gaze wandered until it landed on her lips.

They moved, but her words were for Ah Qiu. “Is your class ready for its performance?”

Ah Qiu slapped her forehead. “I forgot! I need to go keep an eye on them.”

She was frank by nature and did everything at a whirlwind pace.

The moment the words left her mouth, she was out the door.

Afternoon sunlight filtered through the leaves, scattering mottled shadows over the dorm-room floor.

The wind stirred; shadows danced and leaves whispered.

I was staring at the lips before me in a daze when a warm palm suddenly covered my eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

I lifted a hand and held her slender wrist, avoiding the question. “My eye makeup will smudge. Then I won’t look pretty.”

Pei Ruoqing didn’t move her hand or say another word.

I couldn’t guess what she intended, so I stayed as I was.

With my sight blocked, every sound grew sharper.

Leaves rustled. A heart thudded in time with a pulse.

I lost all sense of passing time until the palm over my eyes withdrew.

My vision blurred, then focused on Pei Ruoqing’s face, very close to mine.

“You look beautiful,” she said.

My act at the gala was a song-and-dance number.

In my previous life, a talent scout discovered me during junior year. I debuted as a singing and dancing idol and stepped straight into show business.

By now, displaying my charm onstage was second nature.

Back then, however, things between Pei Ruoqing and me had already grown awkward. She had never attended one of my performances in person.

Later, I shifted from idol work to acting. I took roles in dramas and spent most of each year on set.

Come to think of it, Pei Ruoqing had probably never seen me perform onstage at all.

That was why I had volunteered for the gala this time.

Pei Ruoqing was in the audience, and I wanted to spread my peacock feathers for her.

When my performance ended, applause and cheers rolled through the hall.

I searched for Pei Ruoqing, only to find a boy standing beside her, saying something.

My mood plunged. Even after returning backstage, my chest still felt tight.

I’d been controlling my diet for days because of the performance.

Pei Ruoqing had promised to take me to a delicious restaurant off campus once the show was over.

Now, though, I’d lost my appetite.

Backstage, I changed out of my costume and removed my makeup.

When I left through the side door, I saw Pei Ruoqing under a streetlamp.

But someone still stood in front of her.

It was the same boy who’d spoken to her in the audience.

My forward step slowed. The instant I saw him offer her a letter, I stopped and retreated into the shadows beyond the lamplight.

From there, I couldn’t hear their conversation, but I could see their every movement.

At that moment, Pei Ruoqing looked in my direction.

Then she turned back and accepted the letter.

The boy bid her farewell, trying and failing to contain his joy.

My eyes burned as I watched it all.

Given a second life, I’d warned myself not to cross the line.

Being her friend for a lifetime was already the best fortune I could ask for.

Pei Ruoqing stood beneath the lamp, looking toward the shadows where I hid. She didn’t move.

Unable to endure her stare, I finally walked over.

When I reached her, I deliberately ignored the letter.

She spoke first. “Are you hungry?”

I froze. I’d expected her to say something about what had just happened.

But of course. She had no obligation to explain who confessed to her.

I forced myself to sound cheerful. “I am.”

We walked side by side toward the campus gates.

The gala wasn’t over, so hardly anyone was outside.

Normally, I would have clung to her and talked nonstop, insisting she praise my performance.

But the letter in her hand now commanded so much of my attention that I couldn’t stop glancing at it.

As if she’d only just remembered it, Pei Ruoqing explained, “It’s a love letter.”

Even hearing her confirm it aloud sent a dull ache through my heart.

After hesitating, I offered advice I told myself came from a friend’s perspective. “We only just started college, and our studies matter too. There’s no need to rush into dating. There are plenty of wonderful people out there. You should look around before deciding to be with the first one.”

I watched the pavement, afraid to look at her.

Then she asked beside me, “Is that what you think?”

Worried I’d overstepped, I hurried to explain. “That’s only my opinion, of course. Do whatever you want. I’m not trying to control you.”

She stepped ahead, turned to face me, and walked backward. “Then there’s no need for you to read the love letter he asked me to give you.”

My eyes widened. The letter was for me?

She stopped abruptly. I scrambled to halt, and we nearly collided face-to-face.

Pei Ruoqing steadied my shoulder with one hand. My gaze followed the movement and landed on her collarbone.

Her hand slid upward until she pinched my earlobe.

“Will my Qi-Qi blame me for meddling too much? Hmm?”