Lu Ying had been busy with a custom jewelry designer’s banquet lately and hadn’t had time to gossip in person. She was already raring to go.
Lan Yan and Liang Jingchuan sat side by side. She looked at one, then the other, marveling, “What an unbelievable scene.”
When Lan Yan felt awkward, she’d fidget to dispel the discomfort—like now, picking up her glass to sip lemon water.
Lu Ying smiled at Liang Jingchuan. “I said some bad things about you before—that was circumstantial. Don’t hold it against me.”
Liang Jingchuan smiled. “Water under the bridge, no need to worry.”
“Do your families know yet?”
“Not yet. Still keeping it secret.” Lan Yan answered.
“What if they elope and get married in a couple days?” Lu Ying asked.
“If they get married, they get married. They do their thing, we do ours.”
“One of my clients is an amazing orthopedic surgeon. Need his card?”
Lan Yan and Liang Jingchuan both burst out laughing.
Lu Ying was Lan Yan’s close friend, and Liang Jingchuan had met her plenty of times, so dinner together wasn’t awkward. They were chatting freely in no time.
After hearing that Chen Boyu already knew, Lu Ying asked, “So what are you planning to do?”
Liang Jingchuan said, “Find a chance to talk. We’ll figure it out.”
Lan Yan looked at him. “He won’t talk to you?”
“He didn’t come to the company today, and he didn’t reply to messages. His assistant said he was on a business trip. We’ll talk when he comes back.”
“Did he revoke any of your permissions or anything?”
“No, everything was normal. Even if he did, it wouldn’t matter. No work to do, but the salary still came in—I didn’t lose out.”
Lu Ying said, “That’s your mindset.” She gave a thumbs up.
Liang Jingchuan laughed. “Without that mindset, I wouldn’t dare date Lan Yan.”
“…Watch the occasion,” Lan Yan warned softly.
Liang Jingchuan blinked innocently. “I didn’t say anything.” He sought confirmation from Lu Ying. “Did I say anything inappropriate?”
“No, no, just the standard disgusting couple routine.”
Lan Yan said, “…Why drag me into it too?”
“The natural jealousy of a single wage slave. Deal with it.”
After dinner, Lu Ying had to return to her hotel. Liang Jingchuan drove her there, then took Lan Yan to the movie theater in the mall.
After picking up the tickets, while buying popcorn, Lan Yan kept thinking back. She really hadn’t watched a movie alone with Liang Jingchuan before—only family Spring Festival comedies together, where she had sat next to Liang Xiaoxia. She had no impression of Liang Jingchuan’s state back then.
The theater was sparsely populated on a Monday night. Their seats were in row six, center— the best viewing spot.
The Spring Festival films hadn’t fully left theaters yet. During the holiday, they hadn’t had time to see any because of Lan Junwen’s hospitalization.
It was a decent mid-tier film. With few people around, they occasionally leaned their heads together and whispered about the plot.
Lan Yan was the slightly distracted one. Her right hand was held in Liang Jingchuan’s grasp. With her left, she picked a piece of popcorn from the bucket on her lap, popped it into her mouth, and slanted her gaze to the Liang Jingchuan on her right.
He watched intently.
It seemed her misunderstanding was correct—he simply wanted to watch a movie with her.
On her third glance at Liang Jingchuan, he finally caught her gaze.
He leaned his head over and asked softly, “What’s wrong?”
“Just in case you didn’t know…” Lan Yan turned her face, her lips brushing his ear, her voice barely audible. “…I’ve never kissed anyone in a movie theater.”
“…Oh.”
Lan Yan couldn’t understand his reaction. She felt a bit embarrassed, turned her head back, and shoved two pieces of popcorn into her mouth, chewing with a crisp sound.
She heard Liang Jingchuan chuckle lightly. Then, suddenly, he reached out with his left hand, cupped her left cheek, and gently turned her head to the right. He leaned down with her.
He brushed her lips once, then immediately pulled back.
Lan Yan desperately wanted to grab the popcorn bucket and hide her burning red face.
As the scene shifted to daytime and the lights brightened, she glanced sideways at Liang Jingchuan. His ears were just as red.
They were like two hopeless high schoolers—probably even high schoolers would have been calmer.
After the movie, they headed to the underground parking garage.
Once in the car, they discussed where to go. Lan Yan thought for a moment. “Let’s go to my place. You don’t have spare clothes for me there. I need to take the gifts they sent back too.”
The car started and drove for a while. Lan Yan looked at Liang Jingchuan, hesitating several times.
Liang Jingchuan naturally noticed. He smiled and said, “Whatever you want to say, just say it.”
“Can you promise not to get angry?”
Liang Jingchuan glanced at her. “You first.”
She had pondered this all afternoon, so Lan Yan no longer hesitated and said it outright. “I want to talk to Chen Boyu.”
“No need. I can handle this myself.”
Lan Yan wasn’t surprised by Liang Jingchuan’s reaction. “Hear me out. I’m not saying I can play a decisive role. I just want to make whatever effort I can.”
“I don’t want you to have any more contact with him.”
“It’s just a chat.”
Liang Jingchuan slowed the car. “Yanyan, you’re the type who cuts ties completely with things you dislike. I don’t need you doing something you hate for my sake.”
“Then I can’t just enjoy your sacrifices guilt-free either.”
Liang Jingchuan paused and braked, pulling over to the roadside.
He looked at Lan Yan earnestly. “This isn’t even a sacrifice. No one gets what they want without paying some price.”
“Is the price your talent and time being wasted?” Lan Yan couldn’t help raising her voice. “I like you, so I have to cherish you too. What you don’t care about, I’ll care about for you.”
Liang Jingchuan was stunned.
“…It’s just a quick chat. I won’t lose anything.” Lan Yan leaned toward him, gripping his wrist. “Okay?”
Liang Jingchuan didn’t respond for the moment.
“Of course I believe in your abilities, that you have a hundred ways to solve it. But this isn’t just your problem. If you don’t let me get involved, unless you don’t think I can share joys and sorrows with you…”
Liang Jingchuan chuckled. “That’s suspected moral blackmail, Yanyan.”
“Okay?” Lan Yan asked again. She paused, suppressing the cheesiness she could barely tolerate. “…Brother?”
“…I wasn’t angry at first.” Liang Jingchuan suddenly reached out, wrapped his arm around her waist, and pulled her toward him. His gaze sharpened. “You’re calling me brother just to see Chen Boyu?”
Lan Yan froze. “…Is that how it is?”
“That’s how it seems to me.”
Lan Yan was the type who responded to softness, not force. “…So what? My legs are my own. You can’t control where I go. I’m discussing it with you because you’re my boyfriend. If I went behind your back, you wouldn’t even…”
Her mouth was blocked.
Lan Yan pushed with her arms, but naturally couldn’t budge him.
Liang Jingchuan bit her lip aggressively, but at the moment of real force, he released gently. His tongue tip tasted the lingering honey and corn sweetness in her mouth and couldn’t resist delving in for a entwining kiss.
The angry momentum shifted before the argument even started.
The car had stopped in a small alley just before entering the street to Lan Yan’s neighborhood. It was past ten, and traffic was light.
Liang Jingchuan simply reclined the seat, pulled her over the center console, and had her sit on his lap.
She wore a dark floral long skirt, a bit thin for early spring, like wild roses trembling in the night breeze.
His palm trailed unimpeded from her calf upward. “You said it wasn’t for me, but how many times did you wear skirts for Chen Boyu? The first time we had dinner after you two got together, you wore a skirt.”
“…You know I’m all talk, no sincerity.”
“Then when can you be a little more honest, hmm?”
His palm squeezed tightly.
Lan Yan melted like her bones had been drawn out, leaning against his shoulder.
He hadn’t washed his hands, so only the fabric separated them.
Lan Yan gasped in short, urgent breaths.
The thin, narrow cotton fabric soon soaked through. His fingers would know before her own—this realization burned her ears red.
“Liang Jingchuan…”
“Why stop calling me brother now?”
Lan Yan bit her lips pale, determined not to make a sound.
But the skirt’s neckline was tugged down too, like wild roses falling to the ground.
She didn’t know where to put her hands—hug Liang Jingchuan’s head, or prop against the seat with more dignity.
“…Do you even know where we are?” she asked in a breathy whisper.
“I know. Let them watch.”
“…You’re crazy.”
“Have you done it in a car with Chen Boyu?”
Lan Yan frowned and lightly patted his neck. It had no force, not even intimidating.
Liang Jingchuan grabbed her palm, pressed it to his cheek, and rubbed gently. “No. I know.”
“…If you know, why ask? Do you care about that?”
“I didn’t originally.”
“…I only called you brother to act cute.”
“Then why not now?” That hand didn’t stop, igniting fire while stirring equal floods.
The sealed car felt silently ablaze, consuming the scant oxygen and building relentless heat.
“…Do you have any in the car?” Lan Yan’s voice was like refined syrup, stringy and thick.
“No.”
“…No, and you still do this?”
Liang Jingchuan turned his head, his voice turning husky with a gravelly edge. “Want it?”
Lan Yan clenched her teeth, silent.
“Then be honest.”
Lan Yan remained mute.
Liang Jingchuan wasn’t rushed. He watched her, starting and stopping, counting down patiently for her surrender.
In the night, his close face was sharply handsome, edged with thin anger and frosty detachment.
Lan Yan figured she must be crazy too.
When she spoke, her breath broke, words fragmented. “Brother…”
“Mm.” Liang Jingchuan lowered his forehead slightly to show he listened.
“Please…”
“Please what?”
The last two words barely escaped her lips. Liang Jingchuan saw them form: Give it to me.
“Good girl.” Liang Jingchuan kissed her forehead, then held her as he leaned toward the glove compartment on the passenger side.
He opened it with one arm and took out the item Lan Yan didn’t know he’d placed there.
The long skirt, darker than the night or the tinted windows, served best as cover.
Even so, this wasn’t a fully safe indoor space.
Bicycles occasionally passed, making Lan Yan’s heart race with dread and thrill. Perhaps her heart wasn’t in her chest anymore—why else could she hear nothing in her pounding ears, not even her heartbeat.
Except the secret, persistent wet sounds.
Liang Jingchuan held her tightly with both arms, her head buried in his shoulder, as if sensing her fear and offering protection.
“…Yanyan, I’ve never been as magnanimous as you think. I just have to pretend not to care because I like you. Just hearing his name from your mouth drives me mad with jealousy. Even if he’s in the past.”
Liang Jingchuan struggled to keep his voice steady. After saying that, he pressed his lips tight, focused fully, and fell silent.
Lan Yan had never done anything so wild and outrageous. The scariest part was her body’s honest reaction—she loved it.
The only reason was the man falling with her: Liang Jingchuan.
Her fingers weakly clutched his collar, forehead pressed to his shoulder against each expected yet sudden thrust. If he liked it and she did too, it was fine. She could whimper endlessly: “Brother…”
Liang Jingchuan held Lan Yan even closer, as if to confine her to this small boat forever tossed by waves.
They reached a blankness of mind longer than ever before.
Liang Jingchuan lowered his head, lifted Lan Yan’s face, and kissed away the physiological tears at her eye corner.
“…Want me to open a window for some fresh air?”
Lan Yan shook her head frantically.
Liang Jingchuan chuckled lightly, stroking her still-trembling shoulders again and again.
Everything slowly settled into calm, except her heartbeat, not yet recovered from the stimulation.
“Yanyan.”
Liang Jingchuan felt her blink, her damp lashes brushing his neck skin.
“You can see him. I’ll go with you. Ten minutes max. I never want to hear his name from you again.”
Lan Yan nodded obediently.