After Si Haoran left, silence settled over the apartment as Meiqi and Mengyao quietly got ready for bed. They lay side by side, shoulders barely touching, eyes fixed on the pale ceiling.
The stalker's photo flashed in Meiqi's mind, quickening her heartbeat. The woman leaning toward Haoran matched Mengyao's frame, and their behavior earlier lingered like a shadow.
She told herself it was wrong to suspect them—after all, they'd always been close—yet the thought clung to her, whispering they were hiding something she wasn't meant to know.
She hesitated. "What do you think of Si Haoran, Yaoyao?"
Zhang Mengyao paused, surprise flickering before she masked it. Her gaze shifted to the ceiling, silence stretching as she chose her words.
"Well… he's dependable. He works hard, and…" She paused, her gaze flicking briefly toward Meiqi. "He can make people feel cared for."
Meiqi's eyes shifted at her words—harmless as they sounded. She pressed her lips together, forcing a faint smile, while a quiet unrest coiled in her chest.
"Right. He's a good person," Song Meiqi said softly, her tone gentle. Yet no matter how sincere her words sounded, an unshakable doubt had already taken root.
Mengyao looked back at her, willing herself to bury the memory of that heated night days ago, the taste of guilt still lingering at the edges of her mind.
Then Meiqi's voice broke the silence again—quiet, almost hesitant.
"You know about my past, Yaoyao… how hard it is for me to be around men, to even let them close."
Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve.
"But Haoran… he never rushed me or made me feel like I had to be someone I wasn't ready to be. He was patient, gentle—and I didn't realize how safe he made me feel until then."
She let out a soft breath. "With him, I felt… safe."
Each word landed heavier than the last, stirring the guilt Mengyao had fought to keep buried.
She forced a small smile, the weight of it settling deep inside her. Meiqi is precious to her—someone who makes her feel safe and seen. And yet, she's already taken a step she can't undo, betraying that trust.
The next day, sunlight bathed H. City as Everbloom ran through dance routines and stage blocking, sweat soaking their clothes, heat pressing down, every movement heavier—but they pushed on, muscles burning, hearts racing.
Holding the mic, Meiqi stared at the empty seats. She used to picture them filled with fans' cheers—but now her mind kept drifting, imagining her stalker hidden somewhere, watching her every move.
Her heart ached, chest tightening, her body stiffening as if the air itself had grown thin. Then, she jolted awake when Mengyao, lost in her moves, accidentally bumped into her.
All the members froze, their eyes drawn to Meiqi, who seemed unusually distracted. A flicker of worry passed across their faces, silent questions hanging in the air.
Feeling their gaze, Meiqi forced a smile. "My bad… let's continue," she said, voice tight, shoulders stiff, masking the unease coiling inside her.
Time passed as they worked through their schedules, and night fell, swallowing the city skyline. Yet, the Wang Mansion stood brightly lit, a sharp contrast to the darkness beyond.
Inside, Wang Zi Rui sat on the velvet couch, looking elegant as he reviewed documents on his tablet. The lamp's soft glow traced the sharp planes of his face, his calm composure commanding the room even in silence.
Then he drew his brows together, sensing a burning stare across from him—his grandparents were watching him sharply.
As seconds passed, Zi Rui grew increasingly bothered and confused. Finally, he spoke, his voice even but edged with quiet authority.
"You asked me to dinner… is there something you want to discuss?"
"Ahem." His grandfather, Wang Cheng Shou, cleared his throat, eyes sharp. "We invited our grandson to dinner—is that so strange?"
Zi Rui set the tablet aside and turned his gaze to them. "Then… What's with the staring?" His tone was calm, measured, but carried a quiet sharpness.
A flicker of concern crossed Cheng Shou's face as his lips parted, but no words came. Sensing her husband's hesitation, Mrs. Wang, his grandmother, stepped forward, her expression determined yet cautious.
"Rui'er, tell me…" She paused, brows furrowed, bracing herself. "Are you… gay?"
Zi Rui frowned, letting the silence stretch in the room for a moment before replying. "No," he said, calm and steady.
Mrs. Wang, however, didn't believe him. She leaned forward, eyes sharp. "Really?"
"No," Zi Rui repeated, his tone calm and unwavering.
Mrs. Wang let out a relieved sigh, her eyes softening. "There were rumors about you being… into men, and all your blind dates ended unsuccessfully. I was starting to worry I'd never have a wonderful great-grandchild."
Zi Rui's expression remained calm, almost unreadable, but a faint flicker of amusement crossed his eyes at her candid worry.
"Then… tomorrow, meet the Ouyang family's eldest daughter," Mrs. Wang commanded, her tone firm.
Zi Rui raised an eyebrow slightly, keeping his expression neutral. "I don't wish to go on any more blind dates, Grandma. With my work, it would only get in the way," he replied, calm and unreadable.
Hearing him, Mrs. Wang's displeasure was clear. She stood, yet retained the elegance and proper discipline etched into her.
"What do you mean? Is work more important than family? Rui'er, you will continue going on dates unless you find a fine lady who will give me my great-grandchild."