The car drove smoothly all the way to the entrance of the bar.
During the ride, Qiao Liuyue could feel Zheng Qingyuan’s gaze occasionally drifting toward her from the passenger seat.
He’d glance over and then quickly look away, only to sneak another peek a moment later.
When she turned her head to check, he’d swiftly face the window, muttering unconvincingly to cover it up:
“Sure is dark out tonight… lots of trees along the road…”
His voice carried a hint of guilt that even he didn’t seem to believe.
Qiao Liuyue turned her gaze forward again, but out of the corner of her eye, that familiar stare quietly crept back, lingering on the lines of her profile.
Finally, she couldn’t help it. She turned her head and looked straight at him: “Are you staring at me?”
Zheng Qingyuan shook his head.
“No, I’m looking at the road.”
The corner of Qiao Liuyue’s mouth twitched slightly.
“Then why did you turn your head?”
Zheng Qingyuan said with utter conviction: “My neck’s a bit stiff from sleeping wrong. Just stretching it a little.”
To back it up, he twisted his neck in an exaggerated motion.
After his entirely serious nonsense, the tips of his ears flushed faintly red.
Fine.
Mr. Stubborn Red Envelope Bro.
Qiao Liuyue looked away.
When they arrived at their destination, Qiao Liuyue pulled out her phone and called Dong Jiaoyan.
She tried three times, but no one answered.
Had something happened to her?
Zheng Qingyuan got out of the passenger seat, walked around the hood, and came up beside her.
Their bodies were quite close.
His tone was calm: “Let’s go in and look for her. Maybe her phone ran out of battery.”
Qiao Liuyue nodded. As she put her phone away, her fingertips brushed against his sleeve by accident.
Before she could say anything, Zheng Qingyuan flinched as if he’d been burned and strode ahead quickly.
He pushed open the bar’s double doors, and a deafening wave of music washed over them—thumping bass, flashing neon lights in a dizzying swirl.
Before Qiao Liuyue’s eyes could even adjust to the kaleidoscope of sights, a scene in front of her made her gasp.
Dong Jiaoyan was pressed against a corner booth with a stranger, their bodies tangled in an intimate embrace, lips locked like no one else existed.
Qiao Liuyue froze for a heartbeat, and then a warm, large hand suddenly covered her eyes from the side, blocking her view completely.
The palm was dry and warm, the fingers distinct.
Then she heard the sharp “click” of a phone camera—crisp and unmistakable.
“What are you doing?” Qiao Liuyue reached up to pry his hand away.
Her fingertips touched his wrist, and with a bit of effort, she pulled the troublesome hand off her eyes.
Turning her head, she glared at him.
Zheng Qingyuan’s hand hovered in the air for a moment after being pushed away before slowly retreating.
He glanced down at the photo on his phone, a playful yet confident curve tugging at his lips.
“No looking at impropriety—kids shouldn’t see that,” he said with an exaggeratedly serious tone.
Qiao Liuyue shot him a hard look, her eyes behind her glasses wide with indignation.
Lifting her chin, she retorted: “Some kid I am, I’m no child.”
Her gaze then dropped to the still-lit screen of his phone, where the image of Dong Jiaoyan kissing the stranger was captured perfectly.
“And… why did you take a picture of her kissing someone else?”
Zheng Qingyuan slid his phone back into the pocket of his hoodie casually, unhurried as ever.
A sly smirk flickered at the corner of his mouth, as composed as an old master.
“That’s key evidence. A killer blow when the time comes.”
Qiao Liuyue took a deep breath, yanking her attention back to the serious business at hand. She rushed forward.
Dong Jiaoyan and the stranger were kissing as if in a trance. Qiao Liuyue tapped her on the shoulder. No response.
She slapped harder. Still nothing.
Finally, she reached out and pulled Dong Jiaoyan straight out of the man’s arms.
“Jiaojiao!”
Dong Jiaoyan stumbled from the pull, peering drunkenly at the man next to her.
She squinted at Qiao Liuyue for several seconds, her eyes unfocused.
The man who had been pushed away wore a sulky expression, glaring at them with irritation.
“Who the hell are you?”
Qiao Liuyue answered flatly: “Her classmate. Her boyfriend asked her to come home.”
The man looked her over, apparently deciding not to make a scene over a trivial matter. He muttered something under his breath and vanished into the crowd on the dance floor.
At this point, Dong Jiaoyan had sobered up considerably. She rubbed her eyes.
Though her words were still thick with alcohol fumes, her mind was already chugging along: “My boyfriend asked me to come home? Xie Linchuan? How did he know about this?”
Qiao Liuyue’s voice was calm: “I told him.”
Those three words hit Dong Jiaoyan like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head. Her half-awake, half-drunk eyes snapped wide.
A sharp, piercing voice erupted from her, brimming with the fury of betrayal and disbelief:
“What? I took back all the fake accounts. How could you still reach him?”
“Qiao Liuyue, are you seriously sneaking around and adding my boyfriend on WeChat behind my back?”
She staggered forward a step.
Qiao Liuyue’s patience had finally run out.
She looked at Dong Jiaoyan’s slightly twisted face, twisted by anger, and let her tone carry undisguised impatience.
“If I’d known you were here passionately kissing someone else, I wouldn’t have bothered worrying.”
She turned around, her peripheral vision sweeping over Zheng Qingyuan, who stood not far away.
He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his posture as lazy as if he were watching some irrelevant drama unfold.
Qiao Liuyue looked away.
“Are you coming or not? If not, we’re leaving.”
Dong Jiaoyan’s gaze followed Qiao Liuyue’s retreating figure for a few steps before she finally noticed the tall silhouette standing nearby.
Zheng Qingyuan leaned against the wall, his narrow eyes slightly squinted.
The neon light flickered across his face, highlighting the lines of his nose and jaw.
Dong Jiaoyan rubbed her temples, her expression shifting.
A sight to behold.
“Neighbor Brother, good evening.”
Zheng Qingyuan gave a slight nod.
His gaze slid over Dong Jiaoyan’s face like he was looking at something completely unrelated to him.
After all, in his mind, the “white moonlight Jiaojiao” he had long fantasized about had already shattered completely in that hot kiss from moments ago.
So now, no matter what he saw, he felt there was nothing left to be surprised about.
His eyes landed on the smeared lipstick at the corner of Dong Jiaoyan’s mouth, and he offered a flat reminder.
“Good evening. Your mouth... you might want to wipe it.”
He raised a finger, pointing to the corner of his own lips as a cue.
When the same reminder came from Qiao Liuyue, Dong Jiaoyan got angry.
But when it came from Neighbor Brother, her reaction was completely different.
A faint blush crept across her face, tinged with shyness and embarrassment. Flustered, she rubbed the back of her hand over the corner of her mouth a couple of times.
That only smeared the lipstick wider. As she wiped, she hurriedly explained,
“Oh, that guy just now deliberately took advantage of me! He saw I’d had too much to drink and mistook me for his girlfriend... Neighbor Brother, don’t get the wrong idea.”
