IMH - 36

“Come for a goodnight kiss?”

Yu Qian’s words were meant to tease, but Cheng Xiaonan surprisingly refused, saying he just couldn’t sleep and wanted to watch a movie with her.

When he said this, the younger man’s expression was quite serious, and he looked innocent.

It was as if Yu Qian was the only one with impure thoughts about knocking on the door late at night.

“...Where do we watch?”

Cheng Xiaonan naturally pointed to 6603: “My room?”

Cheng Xiaonan truly had no ulterior motives.

His and Yu Qian’s rooms were adjacent, but their layouts were quite different.

When booking Yu Qian’s room, Cheng Xiaonan chose 6602 for her, which had a living room and dining area combined, floor-to-ceiling windows with a good view, and a small kitchen where she could make a late-night snack or heat up takeout.

Many things were even added by Cheng Xiaonan himself; the kitchenware and air conditioning were replaced with the best.

The bedroom was also very large, with a TV in it, so she could watch while lying down.

But this layout was clearly not suitable for them to watch a movie together right now.

Otherwise, how would they watch? Lying in bed?

If that were the scene, Cheng Xiaonan couldn’t guarantee that his mind would only contain pure images.

His room, 6603, was fine.

It didn’t have a kitchen or dining area, but the TV was in the living room, so they could watch sitting on the sofa.

Both of them sitting on the sofa, and the sofa was very spacious, which was much more innocent than a scene in a bed.

So Cheng Xiaonan stood by Yu Qian’s door, facing the silent Yu Qian, quite righteously saying, “Don’t look at me like that. My room has a sofa, yours has a bed. A sofa is definitely safer, don’t you agree?”

Yu Qian simply said, “What can’t you do on a sofa?”

Cheng Xiaonan paused for a few seconds before looking helpless: “Just say less, aren’t you adding fuel to the fire? Movie or not? If not, I’m going back to count sheep and sleep.”

They did watch a movie.

The room in the same hotel, Cheng Xiaonan’s room had a very different feel. The living room had floor lamps and light strips on, the lighting was dim, and the movie playing was an old one.

The movie was over three hours long, and it wasn’t particularly late, but Yu Qian started to feel sleepy as she watched.

Cheng Xiaonan, on the other hand, was still quite alert. Seeing Yu Qian’s almost-closed eyes, he leaned closer and suggested with a hint of amusement, “Why are you so sleepy? Did you get excited and have insomnia after agreeing to ‘try’ with me yesterday?”

Yu Qian didn’t hold back, glancing at him: “You’re the one who would get insomnia, aren’t you?”

________________________________________

The snow that night was no longer as anticipated as the first snow. Although it was more beautiful, many people around them, when mentioning the snow these days, either talked about traffic jams and inconvenience or about how it delayed outdoor set decoration.

Even Sun Yue, who had been like a curious child glued to the floor-to-ceiling window, eagerly watching the snow a few days ago, had posted on her Moments an hour ago, saying she felt she’d have to wake up 2 hours earlier tomorrow to clock in on time without being late.

It was Cheng Xiaonan who scrolled past this Moments post. He smiled and handed it to Yu Qian to see.

Yu Qian hadn’t fully woken up from her sleepy daze, but it was in this state that her thoughts and words were most honest.

She silently glanced at the Moments post, not intending to complain about Sun Yue, but from this, she associated it with some of her darker thought patterns.

“Sometimes I think people are very selfish.”

Yu Qian placed the back of her hand on her forehead, blocking some of the light from the overhead light strip, and muttered with closed eyes, “When I was little, I loved stepping in puddles. I thought puddles after rain were the cutest; they could reflect a small piece of sky. Stepping into one, my shoes and socks would get soaked. It was my favorite game on rainy days. Later, when I grew up, stepping into a puddle would only make me think, ‘What bad luck.’“

Was the puddle at fault?

Of course, it wasn’t. It was always just a puddle.

It’s no exaggeration to say that this was the first time Cheng Xiaonan heard Yu Qian confide her true feelings.

He knew she harbored too much unhappiness in places no one else could see.

She had a face that could indulge in reckless sensuality, yet she was imprisoned in loneliness.

Even her decision to return to China, just a simple choice, led countless people to speculate:

Had she broken up with her foreign lover? Could she not make it outside the country? Was she abandoned after having a child for someone else?

But they simply refused to believe that she returned to China simply because she wanted to return.

It was also in such a quiet night, with the film paused, some colored lights from the screen falling on her skin.

Yet, Cheng Xiaonan suppressed all masculine impulses, only wishing her a good night’s sleep.

When Cheng Xiaonan picked up Yu Qian, her consciousness was somewhat clear. She frowned and called his name: “Cheng Xiaonan?”

“I’m carrying you to the bedroom to sleep. You can sleep here at my place, okay? I’ll go to yours.”

It seemed that she became especially sleepy around Cheng Xiaonan. The last memory before her consciousness faded was Cheng Xiaonan muttering in her ear, saying he had put her phone on silent and placed it on the bedside table, and left the light strip on in the bathroom for her to be careful not to bump into things if she got up at night.

He also seemed to say something else, like he poured her a glass of water and placed it by the bed?

________________________________________

When Yu Qian finally woke up, it was already morning.

She reached for her phone and, sure enough, saw a message from Cheng Xiaonan.

The message said to have breakfast together when she woke up.

At breakfast, Yu Qian asked him when he planned to move back to his own home.

Cheng Xiaonan handed her a plate of fruit, saying nonchalantly, “When I get promoted to full-time.”

“Promoted to what?” Yu Qian didn’t immediately understand.

Cheng Xiaonan then pointed to himself: “Me. Aren’t I on a trial period as a boyfriend right now? You even slept in my bed, yet I don’t even dare to ask for a goodnight kiss. If I move back home, wouldn’t I be too far from my girlfriend?”

Yu Qian had no work today. After breakfast, she planned to go out for a walk.

Cheng Xiaonan insisted on joining her, teasingly saying he wouldn’t be at ease with such a beautiful girlfriend going out alone.

As soon as they got into the car, the company called Cheng Xiaonan, saying the penalty and compensation plan for the female model who damaged the lounge and slandered Yu Qian had been finalized.

The person on the phone asked Cheng Xiaonan if they should send the plan to his email or if he wanted to come back and see it in person.

Cheng Xiaonan said, “Send it to my email.”

The email was quickly sent over. Yu Qian, sitting in the car, clearly sensed Cheng Xiaonan falling silent.

He held his phone with one hand, his gaze fixed on the screen. With his other hand, he extended his index finger, lightly tapping the side of his nose.

“The resolution plan is out. Do you want to see it?”

Yu Qian looked thoughtful as she read the email.

She remembered Sun Yue saying that Cheng Xiaonan seemed to have been preparing for her return all along, preparing an assistant for her and a collaborative team.

Thinking about it carefully, Cheng Xiaonan had put in so much silent effort for her to join “Eleven.”

Her first official job after returning to China was a collaboration with Angu. In subsequent collaboration teams, there were often staff members she had worked with before, whether photographers, lighting technicians, or set designers.

She had also met models she had previously crossed paths with.

The theme of every job suited Yu Qian perfectly, making her feel relaxed during these less than three months since her return.

These must have been Cheng Xiaonan’s efforts.

Just as he had chosen Sun Yue as her assistant, it was very possible that the female model who slandered her a few days ago was also carefully selected by Cheng Xiaonan.

Foreign media didn’t know the truth about Yu Qian’s arm fracture back then. In many rumors, the female model whose English name was Britney, as her compatriot, was even considered her “best friend colleague.”

Even with such a title, Britney secretly spread a lot of bad things about Yu Qian, yet no one knew their true relationship.

Perhaps Cheng Xiaonan only knew that Britney might have been a colleague Yu Qian had worked well with in the past.

It was with this in mind that he had “Eleven” collaborate with Britney.

It was understandable that after the incident, he would feel self-reproach and frustration.

The teenager who couldn’t hide his thoughts at 17 or 18 years old had now learned to be calm and composed.

As Yu Qian was thinking this, Cheng Xiaonan thought she was unhappy because of the bad words written all over the walls, so he reached out to her: “Give it here.”

Yu Qian handed him her phone, but he dodged her hand and didn’t take it: “Not that. Lipstick, give me a stick.”

Yu Qian had a few commonly used lipsticks in her bag. She didn’t understand what Cheng Xiaonan wanted to do, so she simply took them all out and handed them to him.

Then she watched him seriously choose one, twist it out, and cup her chin: “Don’t move.”

“Jiejie, you are more beautiful than them. Don’t listen to their gossip. Be happy.”

He lowered his gaze, his eyes filled with deep affection, and carefully applied lipstick for her. “Speaking of this, it’s my fault. I thought that Britney had a pretty good relationship with you and wanted you to feel a sense of belonging at ‘Eleven’...”

Outside the car window was a quiet street. The snow that had covered the ground last night had already melted from the de-icing agent. A sparrow had landed on the damp asphalt road, hopping and pecking for food among the remaining fallen leaves of the sycamore trees by the roadside.

They sat in the small, enclosed space of the car, and Yu Qian suddenly felt an inexplicable surge of emotion.

“Cheng Xiaonan.”

“Mm?”

Cheng Xiaonan’s eyes were still fixed on her lips. He didn’t quite grasp the art of makeup, his fingertips paused, and he let out a “tsk,” telling her not to move as the lipstick wasn’t applied yet.

She smiled, then suddenly leaned in and gently kissed his cheek.

“This lipstick is too heavily applied; the extra layer is for you.”