Craving meat

Thanks to the appointment, San Jin’s check-up was quick. Aside from its usual weight issue, the cat was perfectly healthy.

The vet, after some thought, glanced at Xu Fengluan and Liu Tingsong’s clasped hands and hinted subtly, “The cat might be jealous of its owners’ romance, causing it to sulk and lose its appetite.”

She added, “Or it could be the diet—suddenly losing its favorite snacks might make it pout.”

Either way, San Jin was fine, just temperamental.

Xu Fengluan and Liu Tingsong exchanged looks, half-laughing, half-exasperated.

Especially Xu Fengluan. Once in the car, she pulled San Jin from the carrier, pinched its paw, and scolded, “What kind of drama queen are you?”

“Learning bad habits instead of good ones. We’ve only known each other a few days, and you’ve already picked up my bad temper.”

So she knew her temper was bad.

Liu Tingsong’s lips curved, almost smiling.

The underground parking lot was dim and quiet, with no one passing by. Liu Tingsong turned on the light and played music, waiting as Xu Fengluan lectured the cat.

San Jin, forced to stand on Xu Fengluan’s lap, wobbled, its hind claws leaving marks on her jeans.

“Bad cat,” Xu Fengluan squinted, trying to look menacing.

“Making me and your mommy worry so long.”

As if understanding, San Jin’s eyes darted, meowing guiltily.

“Jealous, huh?” Xu Fengluan pressed it down, rubbing its plump belly, huffing, “I knew your mommy first. If anyone’s the third wheel, it’s you.”

“Meow!” Annoyed, San Jin tried to kick her, but Xu Fengluan grabbed its hind leg, prompting a grumpy cat growl.

Liu Tingsong, watching, finally spoke. “San Jin.”

The cat shrank back, meowing pitifully at her.

Even a cat knew to fear the tough one. Annoying Xu Fengluan was fine—a few meows could win her over, maybe even a treat. But if Liu Tingsong was mad, snacks were gone for days.

San Jin blinked its green eyes, wagging its silver tail to please her.

Now it looked less like a cat and more like a fawning puppy.

Liu Tingsong poked its head, saying, “Listen to your little mom, got it?”

One jealous, manipulative cat and one pole-climbing mom.

Xu Fengluan glared, grabbing San Jin’s paw.

This family had no good eggs.

Liu Tingsong’s smile didn’t waver, shameless.

“Bad cat,” Xu Fengluan huffed.

“Meow!” San Jin blinked innocently.

The car’s music looped *Want You All The Time*. Xu Fengluan didn’t know when Liu Tingsong had heard it, but since day two, she’d played it endlessly—cooking, showering, even late at night, its melody seeping through her door.

With Xu Fengluan around, she’d play the original. Alone, it was Xu Fengluan’s cover, boosting its views.

The more Xu Fengluan thought, the angrier she got, smacking San Jin’s paw and Liu Tingsong’s hand.

Two bad eggs!

San Jin, “hit,” meowed pitifully, as if abused.

But Xu Fengluan fell for it, softening instantly, hugging the cat, burying her face in its neck, and kissing its head.

San Jin didn’t resist, wagging its tail happily.

If cats had thoughts, it’d think: *Humans are so easy.* @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

Xu Fengluan, clueless, said, “Let’s drop San Jin off, grab dinner, then head to the bar.”

Liu Tingsong agreed but didn’t move.

Xu Fengluan looked up, puzzled.

Liu Tingsong glanced at the cat, then her.

Frowning, Xu Fengluan asked, “What?”

Liu Tingsong, mimicking San Jin, meowed, “Meow?”

The car’s dim light softened her sharp eyes, making them pitiful.

Like a wronged cat.

She added, “I got hit too.”

Xu Fengluan raised a brow.

She showed her hand, claiming nonexistent redness.

“Little mom must be fair,” she said shamelessly, as if the title was natural.

Xu Fengluan ground her lips, speechless, muttering, “Shameless.”

Liu Tingsong laughed, persistent. “You’re a kiss monster now.”

“I have to fend for myself,” she said, feigning misery.

San Jin, annoyed, wriggled free, hopping to the next seat.

Xu Fengluan stayed still, watching.

Liu Tingsong’s eyes, soft and clear, reflected only Xu Fengluan, not even the cat.

“Meow?” She tried again, reusing her trick.

Xu Fengluan pursed her lips, leaning closer.

Liu Tingsong hooked her neck, pressing closer.

A kiss meant for the forehead landed on her lips.

Before Xu Fengluan could react, Liu Tingsong deepened it, prying her lips apart.

Xu Fengluan tried to pull back, but Liu Tingsong pressed forward, awkwardly persisting.

San Jin, unfazed, lay down, resting its head on its paws, eyeing them curiously.

Liu Tingsong’s shirt slipped, revealing marked shoulders, fresh teeth marks accusing Xu Fengluan’s earlier antics.

Xu Fengluan, catching it in her peripheral, couldn’t stop her, yielding control.

But Liu Tingsong, unrestrained, pushed further when given an inch.

Xu Fengluan glanced up, her lips caught, the silver ring tilting.

Finally winning a kiss, Liu Tingsong was eager, ignoring passersby, refusing to part.

Xu Fengluan squirmed, but the hand on her neck tugged her collar.

If not for the front-back seat divide, Xu Fengluan might’ve thought Liu Tingsong would pounce.

She admitted she’d been teasing Liu Tingsong lately, especially in the kitchen, stopping short and keeping it light since, even biting her shoulder today was rare intimacy.

So Liu Tingsong’s urgency was understandable, but this was excessive…

Hungry?

Her tongue was caught, hot breath on her cheek, pulling her focus back.

The shirt wrinkled, lips crushed, glistening, repeatedly toyed with until flushed deeper.

When Xu Fengluan, annoyed, pushed her, Liu Tingsong reluctantly parted, only to peck a few more times.

Still gripping her collar, Xu Fengluan let her kiss, then scolded hoarsely, “Liu Tingsong, are you a dog?”

If she didn’t stop, her lips would swell. @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

Liu Tingsong’s gaze lingered on her lips, voice slow. “Mm, craving meat.”

Her lingering desire was unhidden, as if Xu Fengluan’s nod would have her reclining the seat.

Xu Fengluan started to speak but swatted her hand. “Drive.”

More dawdling, and they’d skip dinner.

Liu Tingsong glanced at Xu Fengluan’s ear, chuckling, but before Xu Fengluan could fume, she turned away.

Taking her win, she knew when to stop. Xu Fengluan glared, then buried her face in San Jin’s belly, venting.

Soon, the car left the lot.

—

By the time they reached the bar, night had fallen.

It was lively even outside, music pulsing. Xu Fengluan pulled her cap lower, grabbing Liu Tingsong’s hand.

She disliked such places—the noise of music and voices was torture for her sensitive ears, leaving them ringing afterward, like her soul finally grounded.

But Chu Cheng and Kuang Ye loved it, often meeting here, teasing Xu Fengluan for finding bars loud despite being a rocker.

Since Ji Lunan’s marriage and kid, they’d calmed down, gathering here only a couple of times.

Lost in thought, Xu Fengluan led Liu Tingsong inside.

Blue lights clashed with dark corners, amber liquid spilled from clinking glasses, and chatter drowned out the band. Every booth was full.

Business was booming.

Xu Fengluan slowed, Liu Tingsong close behind.

“Careful,” Xu Fengluan said, gripping her hand tighter.

Liu Tingsong nodded, noticing stares but staying quiet, keeping close.

Their clothes brushed, parting briefly.

At a quieter spot, Chu Cheng jogged over.

“A-Feng!” she called, eyeing their hands, her smile widening. “Sis-in-law!”

Finally ditching the awkward “Tingsong-jie.”

Liu Tingsong stayed calm, but Xu Fengluan jumped, snapping, “People might think you’re a drill sergeant with that voice.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with calling my sis-in-law? It’s loud and proud!” Chu Cheng didn’t back down.

She squinted, scanning Xu Fengluan’s neck like a detective, tsking, “You used concealer? Neck’s too clean.”

Xu Fengluan rolled her eyes, but before she could retort, Chu Cheng leaned toward Liu Tingsong. “Sis-in-law, why didn’t you mark her like our screenshots?”

“Don’t spare her feelings—she loves it. Bite as much as you want.”

The music couldn’t drown her voice, drawing eyes from nearby booths.

Xu Fengluan raised her foot to kick.

Chu Cheng dodged, grinning. “Look how spoiled she is, picking up bad habits.”

Free of restraint, she was back to her cheeky self.

Their pause drew attention. Chu Cheng’s bar was known, with some friends and many Burning Meteor fans among the crowd—a celebrity-owned spot’s blessing and curse.

Though unspoken, fans expected the band, some waiting early, eyeing the door.

Xu Fengluan’s white hair was unmistakable, even masked. Chu Cheng’s familiarity made it harder to play dumb.

But…

Eyes fell on the person Xu Fengluan led. Dim lights, masks, and caps hid Liu Tingsong’s identity, making her familiar yet unrecognizable. No one dared guess it was her.

It wasn’t their fault. Xu Fengluan, though a rising star, paled next to Liu Tingsong’s music industry status.

At the last show, Liu Tingsong’s guest appearance had her studio slammed by fans, saying Burning Meteor wasn’t worthy. Only their stunning collaboration song quelled the backlash.

So, no one imagined the famously aloof Liu Tingsong trailing obediently, hand in hand.

“I thought you’d come early or separately…” Chu Cheng trailed off, stunned by their bold entrance.

She asked, “Should I have someone delete photos and keep quiet?”

Though no one seemed to snap pics, Chu Cheng, seasoned in the industry, doubted everyone’s restraint.

Xu Fengluan didn’t answer, but Liu Tingsong shook her head. “It’s fine.”

Chu Cheng’s eyes lit up, her smile genuine.

If Liu Tingsong wanted secrecy, they’d understand—announcing a relationship, even for music-focused artists, sparked backlash, especially for a revered icon like her.

The fallout was unthinkable.

They’d sympathize but, as Xu Fengluan’s friends, felt for her hiding. @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

Liu Tingsong’s stance was perfect—not publicizing but not hiding either. Fans might guess, but it’d stay small-scale, a safe way to hint at their relationship, good for both.

Chu Cheng grinned. “Your video already sparked guesses. It hit the app’s trending list, but they were just theories, quickly buried.”

Her eyes flicked over them. “This time, it’ll stick longer.”

Eyewitnesses and photos were proof.

Plus, free publicity for her bar—Chu Cheng nodded, pleased.

Xu Fengluan saw her scheming, smirking. “Keep dawdling, and we’ll be stuck here, trending tomorrow.”

Chu Cheng laughed awkwardly, leading them to the second floor.

Compared to the chaotic first floor, the second was secluded, with low sofas and partitions for privacy. Unless someone stood and peered, even nearby tables couldn’t see.

Only Chu Cheng’s close friends came here, so she trusted bringing them.

Xu Fengluan scanned the QR code, ignoring the beer stacks, ordering room-temperature milk.

Though expected, Chu Cheng found it hilarious, teasing, “Little A-Feng, need brighter lights for homework?”

Xu Fengluan ignored her, adding fries—no chili, just ketchup.

Spicy food hurt her voice.

Chu Cheng nearly fainted from exasperation.

Xu Fengluan, unfazed, handed Liu Tingsong the phone. “See what you want. The orange juice with pear was good last time.”

Treating the bar like a juice stand.

A message popped up—Li Jianbai’s icon—but Xu Fengluan swiped it away, unreadable.

Her face darkened, but before she could explain, Liu Tingsong leaned close, whispering, “Baby, want some wine?”

Xu Fengluan froze, turning in disbelief.