The night was so quiet it felt soundless, until a meow came from the kitten room around the corner.
Her red lips moved as if she wanted to say something. Beside her, the man stood up. Her gaze lifted with him; she tipped her head back, eyes shimmering like ripples, Liu Qianxiu’s silhouette reflected inside.
“Awake,” Liu Qianxiu said, looking down at her.
Her throat moved; her heartbeat still hadn’t settled. Mu Wan smiled—a satisfied, sweet little smile, like someone who’d secretly stolen a piece of candy and hadn’t been caught.
She stood too. The red dress fell softly as she stepped out on her pale legs, walking toward the kitten room as she spoke.
“Let me see if Er Tong’s eyes have opened.”
Liu Qianxiu watched her go in. His gaze dropped—landing on the Dao De Jing she’d just set down.
Er Tong’s eyes had opened too—pale gold, just like Da Tou and Zhong Fen.
The other two had already opened their eyes fully. Er Tong and Zhong Fen’s eyes were rounder, while Da Tou had droopy little eyes—tiny, open, begging for milk, adorably miserable-looking.
Now that Er Tong’s eyes were open, Mu Wan was ready to leave.
She stood in the entryway, one hand braced against the cold wall as she slipped off the oversized slippers. Her narrow foot arched on tiptoe, the line continuing up into her calf—so white it almost hurt to look at under the red skirt.
She put on her heels. The heel clicked once against the floor—tap—then went silent along with the man’s question.
“How are you getting home?”
His gaze brushed the legs beneath her red skirt, faint but unmistakable. The clock already read 9:30. Liu Qianxiu’s expression stayed calm as he added evenly.
Mu Wan stood at the entry. The main lights in the living room were still off; only the low table lamp glowed weakly. The man stood backlit—tall and straight, his silhouette sharp, his features clean and defined.
“By taxi,” Mu Wan answered. She pulled out her phone and checked the time. The screen lit her face, and her small face wore a troubled look.
“It’s hard to get a cab right now,” she said.
Before she could finish, a figure moved toward her, shadowing her completely. Mu Wan looked up—the phone light brightened the man’s face. He’d already changed his shoes.
“I’ll take you,” he said.
“Yesterday he drove me home.” Mu Wan found a spot by the city wall and sat down, flicking open the prop paper fan in her hand to cool herself.
She was still in costume—wide sleeves, but cinched at the waist, and the layered collar sealed tight, not a breath of air getting through.
It was at least thirty-five degrees. Sweat poured off her. She’d just finished a fight scene, and the assistant director wouldn’t let her change yet—said they had to show the director first, confirm it worked, otherwise they’d have to shoot it again.
“Holy—Mu Wan, you’re insane. So? So?? How was it? Daozhang Liu’s… bed skills—” Lin Wei was so excited she practically shrieked.
“Nothing happened.” Mu Wan snapped her fan shut, lifted her sleeve to wipe sweat away, replaying last night in her mind. Her lips curved as she kicked a small stone.
“He just drove me home.”
“…He drove you home, and you didn’t invite him in to sit for a bit?” Lin Wei pressed, barely containing herself.
“Nope,” Mu Wan said. “He has to sleep at ten. After he dropped me off, I sent him off.”
Lin Wei: “……”
Single by sheer talent.
Still, Lin Wei understood. She wasn’t like Mu Wan. Mu Wan cared about emotional intimacy; physical intimacy had to come naturally after the emotional part reached a certain point.
“Okay then—any other progress?” Lin Wei switched tactics. “Did you figure out whether Daozhang Liu likes you?”
Mu Wan fanned her bangs, a breeze finally cooling her heat a little. She thought of Liu Qianxiu’s face under the lamp and said, “Yesterday, I asked him if he likes living alone. He asked me why. I said because he’s always lived alone.”
She paused at the key part, clearly smiling. Lin Wei was dying.
“And what did he say?!”
“Oh.” Mu Wan snapped back to it, her ears burning slightly. “He said: Right now, in this moment, there are two people.”
Lin Wei got goosebumps from head to toe, and her brain helpfully supplied Liu Qianxiu’s calm, aloof face saying it.
“Mu Wan! Come back for a retake!” the assistant director yelled.
“Okay!” Mu Wan stood, dusted off the mud, and told Lin Wei, “I don’t know what he meant, but I feel like I like him even more. Gotta shoot—bye.”
She hung up.
“Awake,” Liu Qianxiu said, looking down at her.
Her throat moved; her heartbeat still hadn’t settled. Mu Wan smiled—a satisfied, sweet little smile, like someone who’d secretly stolen a piece of candy and hadn’t been caught.
She stood too. The red dress fell softly as she stepped out on her pale legs, walking toward the kitten room as she spoke.
“Let me see if Er Tong’s eyes have opened.”
Liu Qianxiu watched her go in. His gaze dropped—landing on the Dao De Jing she’d just set down.
Er Tong’s eyes had opened too—pale gold, just like Da Tou and Zhong Fen.
The other two had already opened their eyes fully. Er Tong and Zhong Fen’s eyes were rounder, while Da Tou had droopy little eyes—tiny, open, begging for milk, adorably miserable-looking.
Now that Er Tong’s eyes were open, Mu Wan was ready to leave.
She stood in the entryway, one hand braced against the cold wall as she slipped off the oversized slippers. Her narrow foot arched on tiptoe, the line continuing up into her calf—so white it almost hurt to look at under the red skirt.
She put on her heels. The heel clicked once against the floor—tap—then went silent along with the man’s question.
“How are you getting home?”
His gaze brushed the legs beneath her red skirt, faint but unmistakable. The clock already read 9:30. Liu Qianxiu’s expression stayed calm as he added evenly.
Mu Wan stood at the entry. The main lights in the living room were still off; only the low table lamp glowed weakly. The man stood backlit—tall and straight, his silhouette sharp, his features clean and defined.
“By taxi,” Mu Wan answered. She pulled out her phone and checked the time. The screen lit her face, and her small face wore a troubled look.
“It’s hard to get a cab right now,” she said.
Before she could finish, a figure moved toward her, shadowing her completely. Mu Wan looked up—the phone light brightened the man’s face. He’d already changed his shoes.
“I’ll take you,” he said.
“Yesterday he drove me home.” Mu Wan found a spot by the city wall and sat down, flicking open the prop paper fan in her hand to cool herself.
She was still in costume—wide sleeves, but cinched at the waist, and the layered collar sealed tight, not a breath of air getting through.
It was at least thirty-five degrees. Sweat poured off her. She’d just finished a fight scene, and the assistant director wouldn’t let her change yet—said they had to show the director first, confirm it worked, otherwise they’d have to shoot it again.
“Holy—Mu Wan, you’re insane. So? So?? How was it? Daozhang Liu’s… bed skills—” Lin Wei was so excited she practically shrieked.
“Nothing happened.” Mu Wan snapped her fan shut, lifted her sleeve to wipe sweat away, replaying last night in her mind. Her lips curved as she kicked a small stone.
“He just drove me home.”
“…He drove you home, and you didn’t invite him in to sit for a bit?” Lin Wei pressed, barely containing herself.
“Nope,” Mu Wan said. “He has to sleep at ten. After he dropped me off, I sent him off.”
Lin Wei: “……”
Single by sheer talent.
Still, Lin Wei understood. She wasn’t like Mu Wan. Mu Wan cared about emotional intimacy; physical intimacy had to come naturally after the emotional part reached a certain point.
“Okay then—any other progress?” Lin Wei switched tactics. “Did you figure out whether Daozhang Liu likes you?”
Mu Wan fanned her bangs, a breeze finally cooling her heat a little. She thought of Liu Qianxiu’s face under the lamp and said, “Yesterday, I asked him if he likes living alone. He asked me why. I said because he’s always lived alone.”
She paused at the key part, clearly smiling. Lin Wei was dying.
“And what did he say?!”
“Oh.” Mu Wan snapped back to it, her ears burning slightly. “He said: Right now, in this moment, there are two people.”
Lin Wei got goosebumps from head to toe, and her brain helpfully supplied Liu Qianxiu’s calm, aloof face saying it.
“Mu Wan! Come back for a retake!” the assistant director yelled.
“Okay!” Mu Wan stood, dusted off the mud, and told Lin Wei, “I don’t know what he meant, but I feel like I like him even more. Gotta shoot—bye.”
She hung up.
0 comments:
Post a Comment