When Xu Xing got home, it was half-past eleven.
Li Yuanjun was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, typing away. Her hair was tied into a high bun that tugged at her scalp, making her tilt her head back for relief.
She glanced up just in time to see Xu Xing walk through the door, her face practically screaming "I'm defeated."
Instinctively adjusting her black-framed glasses, she asked, "Xiao Xing, did you listen to the WeChat message I sent you?"
The mention of WeChat made Xu Xing feel a rush of embarrassment. She glanced at Li Yuanjun, her eyes full of the kind of exhaustion that only life's harsh blows could impart.
Li Yuanjun, puzzled, asked, "Why do you look like you've aged ten years overnight? Is it just because of the move?"
"…"
Xu Xing parted her lips but said nothing.
As she passed the sofa, she wearily muttered, "I'm going to bed," before silently drifting back to her room.
Li Yuanjun watched her retreat, baffled, and stood there for a while, lost in thought.
***
Closing the door behind her, Xu Xing tossed her bag aside and fell flat onto the bed.
A glaring white incandescent light hung from the ceiling, and she shielded her eyes with the back of her hand, turning her head slightly.
Her mind was a tangled mess—confused fragments of the past, the unsettling mystery of the truth, and then there was Kang Chen's strange recent behavior…
Before she knew it, her thoughts had drifted back to the earlier, painfully awkward moment, one worthy of going down in the annals of history.
Just thinking about it made her want to find a block of tofu and end her shame right there.
An hour earlier—
After Li Yuanjun's voice message had played aloud in the car, an awkward silence fell.
Kang Chen acted as if he hadn't heard it. Xu Xing, however, stared out the window, too mortified to even turn her head, her awkwardness stifling her breath.
All the way home, she silently imagined thrashing Li Yuanjun with a metaphorical whip, making her wail in agony, and mentally dismembered her a thousand times over.
As they neared their destination and Kang Chen still hadn't mentioned anything, Xu Xing felt a surge of relief, deciding to pretend nothing had happened and let the whole incident quietly slide away.
"Thanks for driving me home. I'll head in now. Take care."
Carefully thanking him, Xu Xing got out of the car, intending to walk away from Kang Chen's sight and sprint home as soon as possible.
Unexpectedly, Kang Chen stepped out of the car too.
With a soft "thunk," the car door shut behind him.
Xu Xing's heart skipped a beat, and her feet froze instinctively.
Kang Chen didn't move forward but stood by the car, slightly raising his head, seemingly observing the residential complex.
From Xu Xing's angle, she could see the side of his face, the strong jawline connecting to his neck, a profile both sharp and elegantly defined.
"This complex could definitely use some redevelopment."
In the dim light, his eyes swept lightly over the scene, his tone casual, almost indifferent, like someone commenting offhandedly on the weather.
Xu Xing paused, noticing Kang Chen's gaze shift ever so slightly downward—
A keyring.
His fingers were hooked around a keyring.
Though it was called a ring, it only held a single key, along with a small chip card that, from her guess, likely belonged to Green Island Villas.
Was he doing it on purpose? Just as she looked over, the key jingled softly.
Then, Kang Chen spoke again: "My house doesn't host outsiders."
Doesn't host outsiders?
Was he warning her not to get any ideas about his house?
Xu Xing could feel her infamous thick skin falter. She quickly opened her mouth, trying to explain, "No, I didn't mean to…"
Before she could finish, Kang Chen suddenly tossed the key towards her. Reflexively, she caught it.
The key felt cold in her hand, but to Xu Xing, it burned like fire, and her mind erupted into chaos.
But before she could make sense of what just happened, Kang Chen was already back in the driver's seat.
In no time, the Porsche sped away into the night.
Lying on her bed like a corpse, the scene replayed in her mind with the clarity of an IMAX theater, every detail vivid and precise.
She twitched her fingers and pulled the key from her bag.
The keychain was simple, just a circular ring with an oddly weighty feel. She stared at it for what felt like an eternity, unable to comprehend Kang Chen's intentions.
It wasn't that she was particularly inclined to overthink things, but Kang Chen's words and actions almost demanded that she entertain certain… springtime notions.
"My house doesn't host outsiders," yet he handed her the key. That must mean he didn't consider her an outsider. And if she wasn't an outsider, then…
An insider?
D*mn, this idea was a little too thrilling.
Xu Xing tossed and turned in bed, the memory of her interactions with Kang Chen playing on a loop in her mind.
Kang Chen, that man, was sometimes cold and aloof, sometimes gentle, like a walking enigma of contradictions.
In her head, two tiny versions of herself appeared, ready to battle it out for dominance.
Every time the little figure in white got carried away with romantic fantasies, the one in black would silently shovel dirt on the situation—
A stalemate.
After an entire night of internal turmoil, Xu Xing successfully drove herself from infatuation to insomnia, only falling into a hazy sleep around five in the morning.
***
Xu Xing never imagined that the thing to wake her up the next morning wouldn't be her alarm clock, but Li Yuanjun.
"Xu Xiaoxing! Wake up! Wake up!"
Li Yuanjun rudely yanked away the strawberry milk-colored blanket and grabbed Xu Xing's shoulders, shaking her like Erkang from a drama.
Startled from her sleep, Xu Xing thought a demolition crew had come early in the morning with bulldozers to tear the house down. Hugging her pencil-shaped pillow, she trembled in confusion.
Seeing that Xu Xing was awake, Li Yuanjun said nothing further and stuffed the phone charging by the bedside into her hands.
"Quick, copy the link I sent you. 'Fireworks' has gone on presale! Five minutes left—help me secure a copy!"
No demolition?
Xu Xing let out a sigh of relief.
Still half-dazed, she copied the link and asked in a confused tone, "What on earth? You almost scared me to death."
"Chu Yi's new book! It's on presale today, with signed editions!" Li Yuanjun said, excitement all over her face.
"…"
All this fuss over a signed copy? Xu Xing suddenly had the urge to calmly place Li Yuanjun on a chopping board and slice her a few times.
Clutching her heart, which was still racing from the scare, she opened the purchase link, feeling her blood pressure start to rise…
"Li Zhao Di, there are only 300 copies. Do you really think we'll get one???"
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Li Yuanjun kept her eyes glued to her phone, yet still found the energy to preach, "What if we do? People have to dream! Without dreams, we're no better than salted fish."
"Heh."
Xu Xing let out a cold laugh.
Just a few days ago, Li Yuanjun had explained to her how terrifying the presales for Chu Yi's new releases could be—how 9,999 copies could sell out in three seconds.
To wake her up at dawn, just for this utterly unrealistic, nearly impossible chance of getting a signed copy—it was infuriating. Xu Xing was so close to turning into a black-hearted anti-fan of the author, Chu Yi.
This was blatant hunger marketing!
How exhausting could it be to sign a few copies? Even if he didn't want to do it himself, he could just hire someone to stamp the signatures for him.
And this so-called bestselling author, claiming millions of copies sold, yet only managing to offer 300 signed editions—what a joke.
***
But Li Yuanjun wasn't deterred. With five minutes left, she eagerly continued singing the praises of her idol.
"I read the synopsis for 'Fireworks,' and it sounds amazing! The whole book is set over a single night—a New Year's Eve murder mystery in a public square! The thought of having to wait another month for the presale to ship is breaking my heart!"
"I even considered switching careers to become an editor, you know? If I could just be Chu Yi's editor, I'd die happy! I'm so jealous of his editor—they've already proofread it three times and said it's incredible!"
Xu Xing, full of resentment, threw cold water on her excitement, "Do you think an editor would say a book is terrible? You'd have to be brain-dead to say something like that."
Li Yuanjun glared at her and gave her a light slap. "What's with that attitude? You try writing one!"
At this, Li Yuanjun paused and asked, "By the way, have you finished the manuscript I told you to write? Meng Xizhou's about to release her new story."
Xu Xing nodded, "I've written the outline. I just need to finish a few chapters for the draft. I checked Meng Xizhou's Weibo, and her new story is historical fiction, same as mine. It should help with recommendation traffic—"
Before she could finish, Li Yuanjun suddenly tensed and interrupted, "It's starting! 10, 9, 8…"
As Li Yuanjun counted down, Xu Xing perked up, focusing intently on the checkout button.
"…2! 1!"
At the count of "1," Xu Xing swiftly hit the checkout button.
The result?
Neither of them managed to get one of the 9,999 first-wave copies:）
Xu Xing cried out in disbelief, "This is too weird! Is it not live yet? How could it be sold out already when the sales counter still shows zero?"
"It's just that the system hasn't updated yet…"
Li Yuanjun flopped backward, utterly dejected.
"What the—!" Xu Xing groaned, closing her eyes in frustration. "Li Zhao Di, are you trying to break my legs?!"
Li Yuanjun, equally exasperated, gasped, "My spine's about to snap thanks to you!"
"Oh really? For someone with a broken spine, you sure are talking a lot…"
For the next five minutes, the two of them lay on the bed, trading sarcastic remarks and mutually inflicting emotional damage over their failed presale attempt.
In a strange turn of events, the chaos ended with Xu Xing snatching Li Yuanjun's phone and threatening to post an unflattering picture of her scratching her feet on Weibo, destroying her cool and mysterious image—an image she occasionally shattered with bouts of fan-induced madness.
But Li Yuanjun wasn't intimidated, giving a cold smile as she shook Xu Xing's phone.
Xu Xing scoffed, "I don't even have fans. You know what they say—the barefooted fear nothing."
"But you have a sugar daddy, don't you? :）"
With expert precision, Li Yuanjun found "King of Drama" in the contacts and waved the phone again.
"Li Zhao Di, you wicked woman!!!"
Enraged, Xu Xing opened Li Yuanjun's Weibo, ready to go down with her. But just as she clicked on the message tab, she saw a direct message from a verified account:
"Hello, Xika! The Qicheng Literature Group will soon host the third annual Online Literature Festival. We've invited authors like Chu Yi, Bai Ze, and Moon, and we hope to see more rising stars of online literature participate as well. Would you be interested? If so, please leave your contact details, and someone from our team will follow up with you. Sorry for the bother! /Rose"
Author's note: Titles are the bane of my existence. Why did I ever decide to go with three-character ones?