One immortal, one demon.
No matter how fierce the demon was, how could she escape an immortal’s palm? In the end, Mu Wan—who’d fallen first—would definitely get reverse-flirted into oblivion by Liu Daozhang.
Right now, there are two people.
Lin Wei clicked her tongue twice. This Daozhang had game. Usually so ascetic, all restraint and a forbidden face—yet when he dropped a line, he dropped it like a pro.
That was the real “forbidden” type.
After the retake, Mu Wan got a short break and went to the rest area. It was just a huge open room packed with supporting actors and extras. The assistant director shouted scene numbers and called people to get ready—makeup artists called out too. Loud and bustling.
It was a little after two in the afternoon. Mu Wan had only one last scene left; once it was done, she could leave—probably around four.
She found a corner and sat down, elbows on her knees, and pulled out her phone.
After last night, she hadn’t contacted Liu Qianxiu at all. These days, she only ever asks him what time he gets off work after she wraps filming, then goes to pick him up.
On set, Mu Wan rarely played on her phone. When she got bored, she used to play Plants vs. Zombies—until she paid to clear everything and lost interest. Her phone had barely any apps.
She opened her contacts and found Liu Qianxiu’s card.
She’d saved him as Liu Daozhang.
Even his number felt… aloof, as if it carried a faint chill of distance.
And Mu Wan loved it. Even a string of digits—she loved it.
She was smiling when Gao Mei came over, and she didn’t notice until it felt like a volcano leaning in and crowding her space. Mu Wan turned her head and saw Gao Mei’s big frame and her squinty smiling eyes.
“Dating?” Gao Mei asked, full of gossip.
Mu Wan locked her phone. The dark screen reflected her face—still smiling. She wore her hair in a high ponytail, her small face fully exposed, charming yet with a sharp, heroic edge.
She put the phone away. “Not yet.”
“Oho? What’s that mean?” Gao Mei’s voice shot up; her tiny eyes tried hard to open wider. “Ambiguous stage?”
Gao Mei blocked some wind, and Mu Wan felt hot. She opened her paper fan and cooled her flushed cheeks, admitting openly, “Yeah.”
“No wonder you’ve been ‘going to see the cat’ every day—you’ve been going to see your sweetheart.” Gao Mei took it and patted Mu Wan on the shoulder, holding the script in her hand.
The script fanned a little cool air. Mu Wan smiled and glanced at the cover.
Hong Xiu.
“You picked up this project, too?” Mu Wan asked.
So Gao Mei would be in the same crew again. That was good—at least they wouldn’t be bored while waiting between takes.
“Yeah. It starts filming on the 30th. Today’s Friday—so that’s next Monday, right?” Gao Mei calculated. “You and your sweetheart are going to be long-distance.”
Hong Xiu was a Republican-era medical drama. Many scenes would be shot at Wen City Central Hospital. Wen City was an old city; the hospital building was from the Republican period and well preserved.
Li Nan hadn’t told Mu Wan the exact schedule yet, but once the production started, the actors had to be on standby. Mu Wan’s fan paused mid-swish. Heat rushed right up into her face.
She started fanning again, calculating in her head.
Wen City wasn’t far, but if she had night shoots, she definitely couldn’t come back. She didn’t want to be separated from Liu Qianxiu… but her role was small; she could finish in a week…
“Oh, right—do you know who the female lead of Hong Xiu is?” Gao Mei said. “Top billing. They announced it today. Same surname as you.”
Mu Wan’s heat dropped instantly. In her ear, Wu Ma’s words surfaced: Mu Qing had gotten a boyfriend—someone from the Shen family.
Mu Wan turned to Gao Mei and asked, “What’s her name?”
“Mu Qing.”
Mu Wan pressed her lips together.
After leaving the operating room, Liu Qianxiu removed his mask. As the nurse helped him take off his surgical gown, she told him, “Doctor Liu, the director wants to see you—he’s waiting in your office.”
Liu Qianxiu pulled off his gloves, answered evenly, “Okay,” and left.
The director of Tang’er Hospital, Xiao Tan, was Liu Qianxiu’s senior from Imperial College London. Tang’er Hospital belonged to the Xiao family group. Xiao Tan had worked there after graduation, became the director last year, and had hired Liu Qianxiu.
Most people in the department knew they were school seniors/juniors. Xiao Tan sometimes came by his office.
Liu Qianxiu pushed the door open. Xiao Tan sat in a chair by the side, reading Liu Qianxiu’s recent surgical case log.
Seeing him enter, Xiao Tan looked up and smiled. “Finished your surgery?”
Xiao Tan was thirty-seven, with a proper, composed face and a refined, scholarly air. Even as director, he was gentle most of the time and rarely stern.
Liu Qianxiu answered, then sat behind his desk. The chair shifted with a small sound as he leaned back, rolled his neck once, and pinched the back of it twice.
Three hours of surgery had left him tired.
“No more surgeries today, right?” Xiao Tan asked.
They’d known each other for years. Liu Qianxiu understood his nature. He leaned forward, opened his eyes fully, and asked bluntly, “What is it?”
Xiao Tan didn’t waste time. He smiled lightly and said, “Last time you helped Doctor Xiao with her grandfather’s surgery—she wants to treat you to dinner to thank you.”
Technically, Xiao Tan and Xiao Yun were distant relatives. Their relationship wasn’t too far removed. Xiao Tan’s father valued family ties; before Xiao Yun came to the hospital, he’d told Xiao Tan to look after her.
Xiao Tan was young but held power and had plenty of social experience. When Xiao Yun mentioned “thanking Liu Qianxiu,” Xiao Tan could tell from her expression what she really meant.
Liu Qianxiu was outstanding; Xiao Yun was gentle and refined. Both were excellent surgeons with common ground. But one was cold and quiet, the other shy and reserved—so there was always a missing step between them.
After Xiao Tan finished, Liu Qianxiu stared at the orchid on the windowsill, lost in thought—pale green leaves, light blue flowers—small and full of spirit.
“Qianxiu?” Xiao Tan called him.
“Mm.” Liu Qianxiu’s expression didn’t change. He turned back to Xiao Tan. “It’s what I should do. No need.”
“You have plans tonight?” Xiao Tan asked.
“No,” Liu Qianxiu denied.
“Then it’s settled.” Xiao Tan ignored the refusal and made the decision for him. “You’re a doctor. Besides saving lives, you need social interaction. You never go to hospital gatherings—does the whole hospital only know you through me? Tonight, do me a favor. I’ll go too.”
He patted Liu Qianxiu’s shoulder.
“Tonight, seven o’clock. Masyale Western Restaurant.”
Xiao Tan got up, opened the door, and left.
Mu Wan’s last scene dragged on and on. By the time it wrapped, it was already after six. She called Liu Qianxiu to ask if he’d gotten off work.
He picked up quickly. Just one “Hello,” and Mu Wan’s heart turned sweet; she smiled without meaning to.
“Are you off work?” she asked.
“Just finished,” he answered.
The line was quiet; his voice sounded even cleaner and nicer.
“Aww…” Mu Wan felt a little regret. She hurried to the road outside the studio and looked for taxis. It was hot; around six was shift-change time, and it wasn’t easy to get a cab.
“Then I can’t wait for you today,” Mu Wan said. “Should I just go straight to your place?”
Liu Qianxiu didn’t agree. “Doctor Xiao invited me to dinner tonight. I’ll be home later.”
Doctor Xiao—who?
Mu Wan stopped, eyes narrowing. She remembered the female doctor from a few days ago—the one with that look of disdain.
Wasn’t she the reserved, dignified type? Now she was making a move too?
But this wasn’t the moment to spiral.
A restless heat rose in Mu Wan’s chest—whether it was jealousy, a sense of crisis, or something else, she didn’t know. She lowered the hand she’d been using to flag a cab and asked:
“Didn’t you say you don’t eat out?”
Last time she offered to treat him at a restaurant, that was exactly what he’d said. So why would he go out to eat when Doctor Xiao invited him?
Mu Wan pressed, “Then what time will you be done? Can I still come see the cats?”
On the phone, her voice was like a frantic cat—claws out, reaching for a little fish that someone else was about to snatch away. When she couldn’t reach it, her anger turned into a wronged little demand.
Liu Qianxiu asked calmly, “Are you eating alone?”
“…Yeah.” Mu Wan huffed. She frowned. “You still haven’t answered my—”
“Want to come with me?” Liu Qianxiu asked.
Mu Wan’s pupils tightened slightly.
The heat in her body, like inflated cotton candy, suddenly got gently bitten through—then melted away on his tongue. Sweet. Gone.
“I can go?” Mu Wan asked.
Even on the phone line, her voice had softened.
Liu Qianxiu gave a light “Mm.” “I’ll take you.”
“Okay.”
The author has something to say:Liu Daochang: I don't know what to say.
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