Tall wooden windows hung open ahead, the view wide enough to take in the tea terraces and the far mountains, faint under mist.
The room itself was empty and bright. The morning breeze flowed through, clean and fresh.
Mei Yaozhi sat on the stiff carpet, sleep still in his large eyes. His posture was loose, casual, a sharp contrast to Liu Qianxiu’s upright stillness beside him.
Between them sat a low tea table set with tea tools. A woman in hanfu performed tea service with smooth, practiced grace—fresh Longjing tips, green and fragrant. Water poured from the spout of a purple clay teapot, scent rising in thin curls.
Mei Yaozhi glanced at Liu Qianxiu again.
Liu Qianxiu was terrifyingly disciplined. Sitting like that, watching the morning sun thin the mountain mist, he looked wrapped in a faint immortal haze, too clean for the world.
Which was the point.
He’d always been too clean for it.
“Waking up this early just to drink tea in a tea house,” Mei Yaozhi muttered. He lifted a cup, swallowed in one go, and the smooth fragrance eased his lingering drowsiness.
When the tea was finished, the woman withdrew. Mei Yaozhi straightened a little and got to business.
He slid a file folder toward Liu Qianxiu. “The person you asked me to investigate.”
The paper envelope made a crisp sound. Liu Qianxiu took it.
The file wasn’t long—three pages, maybe. But the details were dense and specific. Mei Yaozhi summarized.
“Mu family in West City: textiles and tailoring. They rose in the Republican era and peaked in the 1980s. After the old matriarch died, Mu Yatang took over, and they’ve declined ever since. Mu Wan took her mother’s surname. Her mother, Mu Qijun, got pregnant out of wedlock. To hide it, the Mu family claimed Mu Wan was adopted, but she’s biological. The Mu family believed she disgraced their ‘family reputation,’ so her life there was bad, especially after Mu Qijun died. Once she came of age, she moved out. Now she has no contact with the Mu family at all.”
Mei Yaozhi poured himself more tea, then added with a grin, “It took me a ridiculous network to track down the man who got Mu Qijun pregnant—the father. Funny coincidence, he’s also…”
“Song Kangze,” Liu Qianxiu said, having reached the last line of the file.
Mei Yaozhi froze. “You actually know him?”
Liu Qianxiu pulled out the second page, the one with the father’s information, and looked down at it without speaking.
“So you had me check her because of her father?” Mei Yaozhi pressed.
Liu Qianxiu lifted his eyes at him, neither confirming nor denying.
Mei Yaozhi couldn’t read him. Liu Qianxiu was like clear water—you could see straight down, yet never know how deep it truly went, or what lay at the bottom.
Mei Yaozhi didn’t pry further. He just talked.
“She’s a nobody actress right now. Some of the roles she takes are rough. If you want to help her, it’s a flick of your finger.”
His phone rang mid-sentence. Mei Yaozhi glanced at it and stood. “I have to go.”
Liu Qianxiu tapped the file lightly with one finger and said, “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” Mei Yaozhi smiled, then remembered something as he was about to leave. He tapped his temple. “Grandma knew I was coming to see you. She told me to tell you: tonight, you’re coming home with me for dinner.”
Mei family’s matriarch was Mei Yaozhi’s grandmother—and Liu Qianxiu’s maternal grandmother.
Liu Qianxiu’s mouth curved faintly. He nodded. “Okay.”
Mei Yaozhi grinned. “I’m leaving. Haven’t even eaten breakfast—just drank a belly full of tea…”
Before sunrise, Mu Wan was already at the filming base.
This time, it was war scenes. Mu Wan played a military doctor. They filmed from dark to dawn, explosion after explosion, and she ended up with a face full of soot.
By the time the light was fully up, the dawn sequence was done. She had only one more sacrifice scene left, and her part would wrap.
She ran back and forth “saving lives” until her body felt hollow, her back ached, and her waist was sore. During the break, she sat at the edge of a trench built from stacked sandbags and opened Plants vs. Zombies.
She hadn’t even finished planting her sunflowers when her phone buzzed.
A text appeared at the top of the screen.
[Daoist Liu]: Where are you?
Mu Wan’s heart jumped with it. She immediately opened messages and replied.
[Mu Wan]: Filming. At the base.
After sending it, she bit her lower lip as she smiled—then tasted dust. She laughed, spit twice, and sent another message.
[Mu Wan]: What about you? What are you doing at home?
He didn’t answer that. He replied with a different line.
[Daoist Liu]: I have plans tonight.
Mu Wan’s smile stopped.
She understood his meaning.
She curled in slightly, shoulders narrow and small, like a kitten hiding in a corner. Someone sat down beside her and kicked up dust. Mu Wan coughed twice; her phone screen smeared with grime.
“Mu Wan, look! That guy—so handsome!” Gao Mei had plopped down beside her. She grabbed Mu Wan’s arm and pulled. “Is he an actor? No way. If that face were an actor, I’d know him.”
Mu Wan’s mood dipped. She ignored Gao Mei, staring at her screen, trying to think of what to reply.
Gao Mei, not getting a response, planted both chubby hands on Mu Wan’s cheeks and turned her face toward the “handsome guy.”
“Hey—”
Mu Wan’s face got squished, her eyes darting—
And then her gaze froze.
The blast scenes left the air thick with smoke and dust. In the rolling haze, a man stood there in a pale long shirt and trousers, tall and clean-lined, brows and eyes quiet, his whole presence cold and untouched by the world.
Mu Wan’s heart kicked hard.
She stared for two seconds, then stood up from the trench.
Liu Qianxiu stood at a distance, looking straight at her.
Her face was filthy with soot, but her eyes were still bright and clear. She saw Liu Qianxiu and went from disbelief to fluster in a heartbeat. She scrubbed at her cheeks, hard, only managing to uncover a small patch of pale skin on her left side.
She couldn’t get clean, so she gave up.
Then she ran toward him, light and quick. Reaching him, she stared at him like she needed to confirm he was real, glancing again and again. Finally, she believed it. Her eyes curved into a smile.
“Why are you here?” Her voice shook. The skin she’d rubbed was flushed.
Liu Qianxiu looked at her quietly. “I don’t have time tonight.”
“Huh?” Mu Wan blinked, confused. She nodded. “I know, I got your text—”
“Lunch with me?” Liu Qianxiu asked.
Mu Wan’s words died instantly.
She lifted her head.
Her eyes were bright as washed glass.
The author has something to say:Liu Daochang: Do you know what it means not to send you home?The relationship between the two has begun to change~
Thanks for the chapter! And so we finally know why the FL's family treat her and her mother so badly. It's understandable, even if it's not condonable :/
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Finally they are going to the next step 🤩
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