When Jiang Ling was dropped off at the dormitory entrance, her mind was still foggy.
She had originally wanted to tell Song Meng to stop deceiving her parents like this, but halfway through her sentence, she was pulled into an embrace and bombarded with a bunch of confusing words.
As a result, Jiang Ling never managed to say, “Maybe we shouldn’t continue like this.”
She let out a small, frustrated sigh, and the cool sensation immediately filled her mouth, mingling with an indescribable taste.
At the same time, the thought of her “strange and quirky” teammates, and all the things they had been up to recently, popped into her mind.
In the end, did selling ship really need to be taken so seriously?
On the usual performance stage, when doing MCs or playing games, Jiang Ling would always cooperate with them, tolerantly acting out all sorts of intimate gestures, and the audience below would naturally erupt in cheers and teasing.
But off stage, it seemed they didn’t really let her off, either.
Thinking about all this, Jiang Ling felt like her head was about to explode, and she helplessly rubbed her messy hair.
Things had come to this point; she could only, with a somewhat heavy heart, stuff the envelope packed with bills into her pocket, then take out her key and unlock the dormitory door.
As soon as she entered, she caught a sweet, fragrant scent.
Was it the smell of cookies?
But with her heart weighed down by heavy thoughts, Jiang Ling had no appetite at all. Like a slime, she flopped onto the sofa, her whole body radiating exhaustion.
She closed her eyes and sank into darkness.
Her chaotic thoughts refused to settle. Curling up, Jiang Ling shifted position, burying her head in the space between the sofa cushions, letting out a few aggrieved mutters, “Ah, really—”
Just then, Mo Ran, carrying a tray of freshly baked cookies out of the kitchen, immediately spotted Jiang Ling tossing and turning on the sofa, letting out occasional strange cries. She went over at once and asked, “Do you want a cookie?”
She set the tray on the coffee table, picked up a cookie with her fingers, and sat down next to Jiang Ling.
Naturally, Jiang Ling caught a whiff of that irresistible aroma. After rolling around a bit on the sofa, she couldn’t help herself any longer. With her hair all messy, she sat up and bit into the cookie in Mo Ran’s hand.
“Mm-mm.”
Some crumbs slid down from the corner of her mouth. Mo Ran was used to this—she deftly took a tissue and wiped it clean before asking, “You look out of it. Did something happen?”
“Mm… Is it that obvious?” Jiang Ling mumbled listlessly, still biting the cookie.
Mo Ran gave a soft laugh, then took out her phone from her pocket and snapped a photo of Jiang Ling.
“Click.”
If it had been before, Jiang Ling would have blushed furiously and made a fuss to have the photo deleted. But this time, she just looked quietly at Mo Ran, not making a single sound.
“Wow, you really look like a dead fish.” Mo Ran exclaimed at the photo, then waved it in front of Jiang Ling. “What’s with you all of a sudden? You seemed perfectly fine when you went out this afternoon.”
Jiang Ling followed her gaze. Sure enough, the face in the photo was pale and haggard.
She hesitated for a long moment, as if debating whether or not to speak.
After all, the people involved in this matter were… just too many.
“Is it something you can’t talk about?” Mo Ran almost immediately saw through her hesitation, thought for a few seconds, and spoke again: “You don’t need to name names, just tell me what happened. I should be able to help at least a little. Or… ”
She patted her own thigh. “Want to lie down and talk?”
Jiang Ling was silent for a moment, then softly collapsed onto Mo Ran’s soft and supremely springy lap.
Almost the instant she lay down, Jiang Ling felt like she’d turned into a complete slacker, with no strength left in her body. Her tightly wound heart relaxed considerably.
“There, there, be good.” Mo Ran stroked Jiang Ling’s hair, coaxing her gently, “Tell me about it, okay?”
Jiang Ling pursed her lips, then shut her eyes tightly and began slowly.
“Actually, I agreed to be my friend’s fake girlfriend, so her parents would stop worrying.”
She started by briefly explaining the situation between herself and Song Meng, her voice full of confusion she couldn’t hide: “But I just feel like it’s not right. Her parents are so good to me, and she herself has helped me so much. I can’t help but feel that accepting their kindness while pretending like this is just too much.”
“But she keeps telling me not to mind. I… I’m timid, and I worry this will affect our relationship, so I really don’t know what to do.”
When facing Mo Ran, Jiang Ling always felt reassured, and she expressed her current feelings slowly but sincerely.
Mo Ran’s hand continued to stroke her hair as she asked casually, “Is this friend of yours a guy or a girl?”
“A girl.”
“So you’re an aluminum-copper after all?”
“Mm… Huh?”
Jiang Ling’s eyes went wide at that. She shot up in a panic, waving her hands frantically under Mo Ran’s amused gaze. “No, I’m not! I’m not!”
“But you’re not exactly against it, are you?” Mo Ran looked at the blushing Jiang Ling with a lazy smile. “No need to be so shy. Love doesn’t care about gender, race, or age.”
Never mind about gender, but please, at least draw the line at race and age.
Mo Ran, who was being thoroughly roasted by Jiang Ling in her heart, gave a snort of laughter. “Alright, I get it. Basically, you just feel guilty toward your friend and her parents, right?”
Jiang Ling nodded, picking up another cookie and chewing on it slowly.
She had to admit, Mo Ran’s cooking was always delicious.
“So, what does your friend think of you?” Mo Ran pondered for a moment before asking again.
This made Jiang Ling pause, the cookie halfway to her mouth. She looked away awkwardly, and answered in a voice barely above a whisper, “She seems to… to like me.”
Mo Ran more or less figured out the situation between them, her eyes lighting with understanding.
After all, Jiang Ling was soft and easily swayed.
And in their daily interactions, Mo Ran had noticed Jiang Ling was a total face-con; as long as a pretty girl asked or coaxed her to do something, she’d almost always say yes in the end.
Thinking this, a certain name surfaced in Mo Ran’s mind. With a gentle smile and a nearly certain tone, she said, “This friend of yours is Song Meng, isn’t it?”
“Cough, cough!”
Jiang Ling coughed even more loudly this time, staring at Mo Ran in panic and stammering, “H-how did you know?”
“Eh, you barely have any friends, right? The only one I’ve met is Song Meng. I even heard Sister Bai Xue say she pinned you down on the sofa and kissed you last time…”
“She didn’t kiss me!”
Jiang Ling’s face was bright red, but she protested righteously.
“Close enough~” Mo Ran said, watching her shifty eyes. “So what about you?”
“Huh?”
Jiang Ling lifted her head blankly, completely lost.
“What do you think?”