You and I go in.

The studio’s chatter paused. At the center of the spotlight, a cozy setup of sofas and a low coffee table created a relaxed atmosphere.

The host and Liu Tingsong sat across from each other, exchanging light banter before diving into the main topic.

Xu Fengluan leaned against an inconspicuous corner, her gaze shifting from the camera’s screen to Liu Tingsong.

Occasional curious glances swept her way, only to retreat, puzzled without answers.

She stood out, despite her disguise—a cap, black-framed glasses, and a mask covering half her face.

Some people, even in a crowd, exuded an unmistakable presence with their striking aura and graceful figure.

It wasn’t odd for an artist like Liu Tingsong to have multiple assistants—four or five wouldn’t raise eyebrows.

Even Xu Fengluan’s eye-catching white hair didn’t spark much speculation.

In the entertainment industry, idols changed hair colors daily, and those around them often followed suit.

So her white hair drew little attention, yet people sensed something off, though they couldn’t place it. They didn’t dare connect her to Xu Fengluan—Liu Tingsong and Xu Fengluan seemed worlds apart, impossible to link.

Xu Fengluan grew impatient, standing there, ignoring others’ glances.

The interview droned on, another dull topic. She inwardly grumbled about the hassle—awkward exchanges, the host scrambling for clickbait, the interviewee cautiously offering tidbits.

A boring segment risked being quietly scrapped.

But this endorsement was major, among the top-tier.

Even Burning Meteor, at its peak, hadn’t won such favor, yet the brand showered Liu Tingsong with enthusiasm, shifting the shoot to the less convenient Haicheng, filming heaps of promotional material, as if eager to broadcast her as their ambassador to the world.

Xu Fengluan’s lips twitched, her gaze lifting to Liu Tingsong.

Love and subtle admiration intertwined, her green eyes reflecting only her.

This was everyone’s Heavenly Queen Liu.

Her love, lost and found.

The thought melted her irritation into something soft.

Liu Tingsong didn’t miss the shift. She’d been watching, worried Xu Fengluan might find it boring or grow restless. Sensing her “puppy” wagging its tail, she relaxed.

After answering another question, Liu Tingsong sipped from her cup.

It was honey water prepared by that naughty girl, her hoarse voice blamed on a cold.

Xu Fengluan held snacks, ready to feed her during a makeup touch-up. @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

The easily placated sister forgave the bad dog.

“Have you explored Haicheng, Sister Tingsong? Any interesting spots?” the host asked.

Liu Tingsong glanced away, about to answer, when the host added, “I heard Haicheng’s aquarium is great—a must-visit, according to netizens.”

She meant well, tossing out a safe answer to avoid awkwardness.

Liu Tingsong’s peripheral vision caught Xu Fengluan.

She was looking down, tugging a silver-white hair from her clothes—likely from the Maine Coon left at the hotel.

Pets were like that—no matter how careful, their fur was everywhere, little surprises left behind.

Xu Fengluan patted her pocket, not one for wallets, and lifted her phone’s clear case—a freebie from the purchase she never bothered replacing.

The cat hair was tucked inside, pressed between the case and phone, like an odd decoration.

Liu Tingsong sipped her honey water, saying, “The schedule’s tight, so I missed it, unfortunately.”

“Really?” The host, surprised, feigned regret, confused why Liu Tingsong passed on a crowd-pleasing answer, coming off cold.

“But Haicheng’s scenery is nice. I plan to stroll the beach later,” Liu Tingsong added, shifting the topic.

The host relaxed, her voice brightening, “Haicheng’s sea and beaches are famous. This shoot also…”

She steered the conversation toward the endorsement.

Liu Tingsong played along, but her mind lingered on Xu Fengluan.

The morning’s antics were Xu Fengluan’s mischief, but Liu Tingsong’s indulgence enabled it.

The joy of reconciliation sparked a thrill, demanding expression to release the pent-up feelings.

She tried crossing her legs, but mid-motion, the pressure revealed lingering soreness. She frowned.

Last night’s excess, even with two rounds of ointment, hadn’t fully subsided.

Liu Tingsong reached back, adjusting a soft cushion to support her aching waist.

Li Zi, watching slyly, her almond eyes darting between them, felt a sour pang, like biting a lemon.

She couldn’t fathom why she’d ever shipped the “Chengfeng CP.” Those forced sweet moments paled against these two, cloyingly sweet.

The morning’s clinginess, hand-holding in the car, was one thing.

Liu Tingsong’s reluctance to part, wanting Xu Fengluan to escort her back to the hotel, was another.

Xu Fengluan refusing to leave, waiting in the car, was yet another.

Unable to stand brief separations, disguising herself as a temporary assistant to sneak into the studio? Fine.

But could they tone down the blatant flirting in front of everyone?

A glance here, a look there—people might think they were filming a rom-com. Li Zi rubbed her aching cheeks. Even as a CP fan, she couldn’t handle this much sugar. Protect the fans’ dental health, please!

Finishing her sandwich, Li Zi tossed it into the trash, pulled out her phone, and checked Weibo for Liu Tingsong and Xu Fengluan.

As expected, nothing. The fans, so good at digging, failed this time—no super topic even after all this.

What a useless bunch, stuck on fake crumbs while the real couple reunited under their noses, and they’re still clueless.

Li Zi shook her head.

The interview wrapped, with a shoot to follow.

Staff led Liu Tingsong to the makeup room, Xu Fengluan and Li Zi trailing.

As she sat before the mirror, a makeup artist approached, skillfully touching up her look.

Xu Fengluan stayed silent, holding supplies, standing behind the mirror, seemingly docile. But her eyes, hidden by the cap and glasses, locked onto the mirror, unwavering.

Like a loyal wolfdog, she frowned, baring teeth silently if the artist’s hand got too close.

Liu Tingsong stifled a laugh, her eyes curving, but with people around, she couldn’t pat Xu Fengluan’s head, only watching her grind her teeth in the reflection.

The earlier hairstyle didn’t suit the next shoot, so a stylist rushed in, replacing the makeup artist.

Hair fell loose, curling iron at work. Liu Tingsong spoke up.

“Come here.”

Her voice was clear, not the usual warmth she used with Xu Fengluan, startling her. Seeing Li Zi unmoving, Xu Fengluan shuffled forward.

“Sit,” Liu Tingsong glanced at her, her tone commanding, distant.

The rebellious puppy squinted but said nothing, dragging a stool to sit beside her.

The stylist ignored them, focused on the hair, pretending not to notice anything odd.

Xu Fengluan didn’t get it, sitting stiffly, staring at the stylist’s hands, thinking if she hadn’t chosen music, learning makeup to style Liu Tingsong wouldn’t be bad.

“Ahem,” Liu Tingsong coughed.

Xu Fengluan’s attention snapped back, looking at her blankly.

The “first-day assistant” Xu clearly knew nothing, not even reading cues, staring until Liu Tingsong said, “Hungry,” prompting her to fumble for the plastic bag.

The stylist glanced over—such a clueless assistant was rare. Good thing Liu Tingsong was patient, never harsh.

Xu Fengluan, oblivious to the judgment, wiped her fingers with a wet wipe, then tore the sandwich into pieces, feeding them to Liu Tingsong’s lips.

Not entirely hopeless, the stylist mentally added a point, working more carefully.

Something stirred outside, growing noisy. Li Zi peeked, then stared at the two again. @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

Sour, but good sugar—she’d take more if offered.

Li Zi smacked her lips unconsciously.

Xu Fengluan’s hand flinched, glaring at Liu Tingsong, warning her not to mess around. Eating bread or her hand?

She kept leaning forward, but Xu Fengluan’s quick reflexes dodged, or others would’ve seen.

Liu Tingsong blinked innocently, but at the next bite, her teeth grazed Xu Fengluan’s fingers.

Clearly deliberate.

Xu Fengluan lifted her gaze, guiltily glancing at the stylist, her fingers trembling as she tore the bread, quickly pressing it to Liu Tingsong’s lips.

Seeing through her evasion, Liu Tingsong leaned forward, her soft lips brushing Xu Fengluan’s fingertips, leaving a faint lipstick mark on her neatly trimmed nails.

Xu Fengluan’s breath caught, an inexplicable itch rising from the not-so-sensitive spot.

Liu Tingsong played innocent, as if she weren’t the tease, even praising casually, “This sandwich is pretty sweet.”

The last three words were emphasized, hinting at something unclear. @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

Xu Fengluan laughed, exasperated. Last night’s pleading was forgotten; now, with people around, she was bold.

Piece by piece, Xu Fengluan relaxed, saying, “Done.”

Liu Tingsong stood, heading to the dressing room. Xu Fengluan thought her role was over, but halfway there, Liu Tingsong spoke.

“You, come with me.”