"I like you… more than a friend." Zheng Mengyao said, her gaze held his.
Her words sent a quiet ache through Si Haoran's chest. Surprise flickered across his eyes, and beneath it, a trace of happiness he couldn't quite hide.
She looked down, face shadowed. "But… I realized it too late," she murmured, voice trembling as tears welled in her eyes.
Haoran's brows drew together, a knot forming in his chest.
"You've always seen me—not as the idol everyone admires, but just… me." Her fingers curled tighter around the edge of the chair, knuckles turning white.
Looking up, eyes catching the dim light, she said, "I thought it would always be that way. But when you said you liked Meiqi… I was shaken. Now I understand—it's because I like you."
Haoran froze. Her words cut deep, stirring something he'd tried to bury.
"I kissed you, knowing it was wrong… because I like you. And now I have to let you go, because I still do."
Haoran's chest tightened. "Mengyao…" he murmured.
She tried to smile, but her tears betrayed her. "Don't let go of Meiqi. She's… important to me," she said, voice quivering with every word.
Hoaran looked away. Guilt tightened in his chest as her words made him think of Meiqi.
"Brother Haoran," she called softly. He turned back.
"After this… let's just be friends." Her tone was steady, but her eyes said otherwise—shining with the pain of letting go, knowing they could never go back to how it was before.
She rose from her seat. Haoran stood too, the air between them heavy.
Tears glinted in Mengyao's eyes as she met his gaze one last time.
"Goodbye," she whispered. She turned and walked toward the door, her steps unhurried yet final.
Haoran stood frozen, chest aching, a part of him wanting to call her back—but the words stayed lodged in his throat. The door clicked shut. The room felt emptier than before.
…
Haoran stared at the ceiling, breath heavy as the memory of last night lingered like smoke—fading at the edges, yet refusing to disappear.
A creak broke the stillness. His manager stepped in, eyes bright.
"Haoran, you've been chosen as the ambassador—" he began, voice brimming with excitement.
But Haoran barely heard him. His mind was already elsewhere.
…
Next to the building where Haoran was, Stars Entertainment's glass tower loomed. Inside, Mengyao's gaze fixed on Meiqi, her heartbeat racing in her ears.
"Cheating?…" Mengyao let out a short laugh. "Impossible. Little Qi, we both know Brother Haoran wouldn't do that." Her tone was light, but her gaze—too steady.
Meiqi looked away, willing herself to believe. But, the unease clung stubbornly. When her eyes returned, they caught on the bracelet around Mengyao's wrist—too much like the one in the blurry photo.
A chill ran down her spine. Maybe it was a coincidence… but it didn't feel like it.
"Then… Do you know any women who've been close to him lately?" Meiqi asked, her gaze sharp, probing.
Mengyao's fingers twitched before she forced a smile, the kind that looked fine at first glance but felt like a mask. "No. Not that I've heard."
Meiqi's gaze lingered on her, searching for a crack in her own certainty—something, anything—that would let her fully trust Mengyao. The bracelet caught the light again, flashing like a warning. Her chest tightened. She told herself they were just friends, but the photo, that night in her apartment, and the quiet tension between them pressed heavier in her mind.
Mengyao reached out, her hand warm on Meiqi's shoulder. "Little Qi, your stalker's twisted. Don't let his words get to you. He just wants to mess with your head."
Meiqi's gaze flicked to the bracelet again before meeting her eyes. Something unreadable passed between them, and she nodded, though deep down she couldn't help but doubt.
"Then…Don't tell anyone, Yaoyao. I don't want Haoran dragged into this," she said, her voice low. Her chest tightened as she stepped away, needing air.
Mengyao watched Meiqi's back slouch with unease as she left. Her brows drew together. I'm sorry, Meiqi… I never meant to hurt you, she thought, the memory of leaving the restaurant last night still sharp in her mind.
I can't tell her. No matter how guilty I feel, the truth would only hurt her—and Haoran too. She let out a sigh, the pounding music in the background echoing the ache in her chest.
…
Meiqi walked down the hallway, brow furrowed, lips pressed tight. The girl in the photo haunted her—worse was the thought it might be Mengyao. She told herself it couldn't be true, yet each step felt heavier.
A sudden bump made her freeze, pulse surging as cold dread shot through her. Her mind leapt to the stalker, heart hammering. For a split second, their faces blurred, fear blotting out details—until her vision cleared, revealing a lean, good-looking man in front of her, with another just as striking at his side.
Realizing it wasn't the stalker, Meiqi let out a shaky breath and apologized softly before slipping past them, her pulse still hammering. Both men exchanged confused glances, catching the edge of her fear as she disappeared down the hallway.
"Hey, wasn't that Senior Song Meiqi?" one asked.
"I thought so too," the other replied.
Just around the corner, a shadowed figure lurked, eyes narrowing as he watched her go. He muttered under his breath, voice low and dangerous, "Not for long, my Song Meiqi… I'll save you from your misery."