Jiang Liuyue selectively pretended not to hear Cen Yuan’s half-sincere, half-playful overture.
Her gaze fell on the highway sign getting closer outside the car window, and she changed the subject with a calm tone.
“We’re on the airport expressway. Are we picking up Song Han?”
“Yes.” Cen Yuan squeezed the word out through gritted teeth, seething with frustration.
He shot her a look like a man wronged by a heartless woman, his peach blossom eyes brimming with a petulant “How can you be so oblivious to romance?”
He even pressed harder on the accelerator, the car speeding up noticeably.
Jiang Liuyue laughed at the sight.
Propping her chin on her hand, she leaned against the window and watched him with a faint, teasing smile.
“Honestly, the relationship between you and Song Han is pretty interesting.”
“You’re childhood friends, good friends, but you’re always at odds. Yet when something comes up and help is needed, you don’t hesitate to step in.”
“Ah, the whole love-hate dynamic—honestly, it’s kind of fun to watch.” She finished with a deliberate raise of her eyebrow.
Cen Yuan managed to glance at her during a break in driving, his peach blossom eyes wide with shock.
His tone turned dead serious.
Every word seemed forced out through clenched teeth.
“First, my sexual orientation is perfectly normal—I like women!”
“Second, Song Hanzheng and I don’t get along, but we handle our conflicts internally. When Lin Yizhou, that rotten brother, shows up, I’m definitely going to stand united against the outside.”
“Third, I can have a love-hate fight with Song Hanzheng, but with you, I absolutely want love.”
He finished by lifting his chin toward her reflection in the rearview mirror, his expression as if to say, “That logic’s flawless, isn’t it?”
Faced with this righteous twisting of reason, Jiang Liuyue fell silent again.
This time, it was Cen Yuan’s turn to speak with gloating glee, a smirk curling his lips.
His tone carried the satisfaction of revenge.
“Liuyue, see—whenever you hit a tough question, you clam up.”
Jiang Liuyue pressed her lips into a gentle smile and turned to face him.
That smile was warm and resolute.
“I’m a very devoted person. Since I’m with Song Han, there’s no room in my eyes for any other man.”
She said this with an air of lofty righteousness.
But inside, she thought: In this world, I’m sticking to the 1v1 route. No one knows about those things in past worlds, so this persona is rock-solid.
Cen Yuan tugged at the corner of his mouth, his peach blossom eyes screaming, “As if I’d believe that.”
But he said nothing more, only pressing the accelerator a little deeper.
They stood waiting at the exit of the airport arrivals hall. Above them, the flight information screen showed that Song Hanzheng’s flight had just landed.
In his rush to get back, Song Hanzheng had brought no luggage—just a phone and wallet in his pocket. He strode out as soon as he disembarked, heading straight for the exit with quick steps.
From afar, he locked onto the slender, beautiful woman in the crowd.
Jiang Liuyue was wearing a light purple floral dress today, covered by a white knitted cardigan—gentle and pure.
As for Cen Yuan beside her, Song Hanzheng’s gaze slid over his face without even a pause.
He ignored him outright.
“Liuyue.” Song Hanzheng jogged up, still catching his breath.
Jiang Liuyue had just let out an “Mm” when, before she could say another word, she was yanked into a solid, broad chest.
Song Hanzheng held her tightly, his arms closing around her.
His voice trembled slightly, hoarse and laced with barely restrained fear.
“Don’t be scared. I’m back. I’m back.”
Jiang Liuyue wasn’t scared at all.
She thought to herself: That “don’t be scared” was probably Song Hanzheng saying it to himself.
When he heard on the phone that the male lead in Liuyue’s new drama was Lin Yizhou, he’d lost control of his emotions.
He’d immediately booked the earliest flight back, leaving his project to his subordinates.
In that moment, he realized clearly: what he feared wasn’t what Lin Yizhou would do, but the terror of losing her.
Jiang Liuyue struggled slightly, her face buried in his chest, her voice muffled through the fabric.
“Song Han, you’re holding me too tight. I can barely breathe.”
Song Hanzheng then became aware of his emotional outburst. He loosened his arms a bit.
Looking up, he met Cen Yuan’s knowing smirk not far away.
Cen Yuan stood with his hands in his pockets, leaning against a pillar, his peach blossom eyes glinting with mischief.
Song Hanzheng stared at Cen Yuan for a moment, then spoke.
“Thanks.”
Cen Yuan’s smile froze. His peach blossom eyes flickered with surprise.
This was the first time Song Hanzheng had ever thanked him so earnestly.
Growing up, that pretentious guy had always worn the “I’ve got everything under control” attitude—why would he need to thank anyone?
It seemed Jiang Liuyue’s place in his heart was truly heavy.
“We’re brothers—don’t get sappy!” Cen Yuan scowled, his tone gruff as if shooing him away.
But a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, impossible to hide.
Song Hanzheng nodded. His gaze paused on Jiang Liuyue’s face, still in his arms.
Then he looked back at Cen Yuan, a flicker of thoughtful sharpness in his eyes.
He made a decisive move, his tone calm.
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
“That said, I still need to settle the score with you for harassing my girlfriend a while back.”
Cen Yuan’s moment of sentimentality barely lasted three seconds. The smile froze on his face, his lips twitching.
Then he started to argue.
“What are you talking about! I was just looking after your lady—when did I ever harass your girlfriend?”
Song Hanzheng’s gaze was sharp.
He cut straight through, adding unhurriedly.
“Were you looking after her, or did you like her, or were you trying to steal her away?”
