Jiang Ling closely observed Lin Xiaoyu’s cool, detached expression, inevitably feeling a bit flustered.
Eh?
A kiss?
She could hardly imagine such slightly provocative, ambiguous words coming from Lin Xiaoyu’s mouth.
Seeing Jiang Ling frozen in place, Lin Xiaoyu tightened her grip on Jiang Ling’s chin, forcing her to tilt her head up in slight pain, their eyes locking.
She had long known that Lin Xiaoyu had a pair of clear, ink-blue eyes, like the shores of Lake Baikal, drawing people in willingly, letting the tide sweep them under.
It was a dizzying, mesmerizing charm.
Jiang Ling’s mouth went dry. She clearly saw Lin Xiaoyu’s invasive gaze tracing her lips, her eyes carrying a deep, meaningful look, as if conveying something unspoken.
This made Jiang Ling’s heart race even more.
No way, right?
Was she really going to use a kiss to “build stamina”?
Nervously averting her gaze, Jiang Ling could barely find her voice.
“But—”
Before she could finish, Lin Xiaoyu’s firm fingers turned her face back, forcing her to meet that direct, unshielded stare again.
Then, Lin Xiaoyu slowly leaned in, closing the distance until their bodies pressed together, leaving no room to escape.
Too intense!
Jiang Ling’s heart screamed in panic, her hands clenching her sleeves as she tightly shut her eyes.
Was her one and only first kiss from both lives about to be given away here…?
But the expected touch never came.
Instead, Lin Xiaoyu’s soft whisper brushed her ear.
“As expected, it’s just like in the manga.”
Jiang Ling opened her eyes in a daze, only to find Lin Xiaoyu had pulled out her phone at some point, thoughtfully pointing at a black-and-white manga on the screen.
There, the female lead was depicted in a shy pose, pinned against a wall and kissed.
And just like that, Jiang Ling, who had been trembling with nerves, suddenly realized.
Was this person treating her like a manga heroine to toy with?!
“Lin Xiaoyu!!!”
Gritting her teeth, Jiang Ling raised her fist and pounded it against Lin Xiaoyu’s back.
Thud thud thud, thud thud thud—
Lin Xiaoyu calmly endured Jiang Ling’s tickle-like attacks, even leisurely pointing to her shoulder.
“Right here, it’s a bit sore.”
“You, you, you!”
Jiang Ling was fuming, withdrawing her hand in embarrassment and anger.
“I’ve decided I’m not talking to you for the entire day!”
“Then do you still want my advice?”
Lin Xiaoyu tilted her head, her expression innocent.
“…I give up.”
Jiang Ling covered her face, exasperated.
“Just tell me.”
“I recommend you jog daily to build endurance.”
Lin Xiaoyu stopped teasing and gave her earnest advice.
“You shouldn’t be out of breath after just two dances. Also, these are otaku dances—just focus on showing a lively, bouncy energy.”
After a moment of thought, she added, “I’ll record a video for you now. You can watch it in slow motion later to study the details, okay?”
Jiang Ling, of course, was thrilled, nodding eagerly like a pecking chick, almost instantly forgetting Lin Xiaoyu’s earlier antics.
Watching Lin Xiaoyu dance with clean, precise movements up close, Jiang Ling couldn’t help but clap in admiration.
Her dance was light and graceful, completely different from Jiang Ling’s own style.
More importantly, Jiang Ling truly felt the “lively energy” Lin Xiaoyu had mentioned.
Even though she knew Lin Xiaoyu wasn’t usually such an exuberant girl, in those brief five minutes, it was as if she’d become someone else—bright, cheerful, and radiant.
It wasn’t that Lin Xiaoyu was usually gloomy; the sudden shift in vibe just left Jiang Ling quietly marveling.
This must be the charm of an idol.
No matter their true nature, in those dazzling minutes on stage, they present their most perfect, fitting side.
“I think you’re perfectly capable. You just lack confidence and practice.”
Lin Xiaoyu spoke, noticing Jiang Ling’s envious expression.
Hearing this, Jiang Ling nodded in understanding.
“Then what style do you think suits me?”
“Hmm, you mean for your personal talent?”
Lin Xiaoyu quickly grasped Jiang Ling’s current dilemma but didn’t give a direct answer.
Instead, she firmly cupped Jiang Ling’s face.
“Just be yourself.”
“Being an idol means you’ll inevitably hide parts of yourself for the public, but I think you have enough charm to just show who you are.”
After speaking, she naturally pinched Jiang Ling’s cheek, the soft, addictive texture making Lin Xiaoyu instantly understand why Bai Xue was always so handsy with her.
Jiang Ling let Lin Xiaoyu curiously knead her cheeks, a warm current flowing through her heart.
The worries she’d been grappling with for so long were sorted out by Lin Xiaoyu in just a few words.
“Thank you… but could you tell me when you’re planning to let go of my face?”
Jiang Ling mumbled, patiently asking.
“Hmm, in half an hour?”
“That’s way too long!”
Jiang Ling struggled free from her not-so-tight grip.
“Ugh, I’m going back to practice!”
Lin Xiaoyu waved at her, her smile clear and bright.
Back in her room for barely five minutes, Jiang Ling had already decided on her performance piece.
She opened her phone’s music app, her finger pausing on a certain spot.
It was a song called Comet.
During her years in the hospital, she loved listening to songs with a quiet atmosphere, and this was one of them.
From the revival of spring to the cicadas’ nightly hum, to falling leaves and swirling snow, she could only lean against her bed, calmly listening to the music flowing through her wired earphones.
To her, music was like a gentle yet steadfast friend.
So even with her new life, Jiang Ling still loved this song, like a weary traveler in distress suddenly spotting a flickering lighthouse.
This was also one of the reasons she hadn’t hesitated much before agreeing to Mo Ran’s invitation.
Clearing her throat, Jiang Ling went over the song’s lyrics, recorded it in a suitable key, and, with some trepidation, knocked on Bai Xue’s door.
“Hm?”
Bai Xue opened the door, holding a freshly opened delivery box.
“What’s up?”
“I’ve decided what to perform, but I might need a keyboard. Do you have one…?”
“You’ve decided? Not bad!”
Bai Xue smiled approvingly, but a glint of mischief flashed in her eyes as if she’d thought of something.
“I have a keyboard, and I can lend it to you, but I’ll need a little payment.”
She pulled something out of the box, her smile brimming with intent.
Jiang Ling lowered her gaze in confusion.
In Bai Xue’s palm were a few short candles, unlike ordinary ones, emitting a faint fragrance.
Under Jiang Ling’s puzzled look, Bai Xue lit one with a lighter, the flame flickering instantly.
Then, Bai Xue pulled Jiang Ling’s arm, turning it outward and holding it under the candle.
The melted wax dripped slowly, leaving delicate red marks like snowflakes on Jiang Ling’s fair skin.
Jiang Ling instinctively tried to pull her arm back, startled, but the seemingly hot wax wasn’t scalding.
Instead, it felt like sinking into a cozy hot spring, warm and comforting.
Drop after drop.
Rather than pain or fear, Jiang Ling felt an indescribable tension.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Bai Xue quickly pressed a finger to her lips.
A seductive, husky voice sounded in her ear.
“The payment is—”
“You’re not allowed to make a sound until this candle burns out.”