Chapter 69

Lu Youqing’s dimpled smile blossomed instantly at Yan He’s response. Her eyes crinkled with an intense, burning warmth, and the gaze she directed at Yan He overflowed with deep affection.

Perhaps terrified that she had misheard, Lu Youqing leaned in closer with newfound boldness—so close that she could smell the faint scent of shampoo lingering on Yan He. This was the first time in so many days that she had been this close to Yan He while she was fully awake; her heart fluttered and beat rapidly out of her control.

“A-He…” Her voice cracked with a soft sob, sounding like a quiet inquiry mixed with spoiled affection. The tip of her nose was faintly pink, and her long lashes were still damp and reddened from crying, resembling the delicate mist of a spring rain. She was naturally, effortlessly breathtaking.

Yan He looked down at her, taking in the wet strands of hair still dripping water onto her nightgown. Her hazel eyes flickered with a brief chill before settling into a helpless resignation: “Hurry up and blow it dry.”

Only then did Lu Youqing snap back to her senses. Hugging the hairdryer tightly against her chest, she nodded at Yan He, her dark eyes shining brightly.

As the sound of footsteps receded into the hallway, Yan He pulled up the blanket and closed her eyes, maintaining the appearance of someone falling asleep. In reality, her inner world was a tangled, turbulent mess, every fraction of her mind fixated on a single, impending thought.

Moments later, the blanket beside her was lifted gently. Yan He opened her eyes, the gloomy melancholy and heavy thoughts in her gaze not yet fully masked, giving her the outward appearance of someone irritated after being woken up.

Meeting her gaze, Lu Youqing timidly drew her shoulders together. The generous swath of porcelain skin exposed by her thin nightgown appeared translucent read the original at bailiantales.comand fragile under the soft bedroom light.

Yan He cast a brief glance at her before closing her eyes once more. Almost immediately, the faint rustling of fabric sounded beside her ear. A slightly cool embrace pressed against her, carrying the faint humidity of freshly dried hair directly onto her skin.

Yan He stiffened, her brows knitting as she looked at her.

Yet Lu Youqing had already buried her head firmly into her chest. Sensing the subtle resistance in Yan He’s posture, she held on with absolute desperation, refusing to let go: “Don’t push me away… I beg you, A-He, just let me hold you for a moment.”

Lu Youqing was extraordinarily happy tonight—happier and more excited than she had been in days. That burst of joy gave her the courage to seek even deeper intimacy after Yan He had agreed to accompany her to the show. She wrapped her arms tightly around Yan He’s waist, soaking in the burning warmth of Yan He’s body that she had been deprived of for so long.

Suppressed love and raw longing swirled like a gathering storm within that cramped embrace. Looking down at the woman trembling slightly in her arms, Yan He’s eyes remained detached and cold, yet her hand moved with deliberate, gentle care to pat the top of Lu Youqing’s head.

The body in her arms froze completely. Lu Youqing seemed utterly stunned that Yan He would treat her with such gentleness; it took her several seconds to process the touch. By the time she reacted, Yan He had already closed her eyes, breathing evenly as if asleep.

Lu Youqing trembled violently with overwhelming emotion. Gazing up at Yan He, a bittersweet warmth filled her heart. The person she had longed for day and night was finally right in front of her. Unable to restrain the feelings coursing through her any longer, she leaned up and pressed her lips against Yan He’s.

Sweetness blossomed as their breath entangled, casting soft glimmers of ​stolen content​moonlight beneath the cover of night.

A few days later, the recording for the variety interview arrived as scheduled. Yan He accompanied Lu Youqing to the venue just as she used to. By coincidence, the recording took place right in Qingcheng; the drive wasn’t long, and they arrived at the studio in no time.

Because the recording took place indoors, Yan He—acting as Lu Youqing’s public assistant—couldn’t follow her directly onto the stage. Lu Youqing provided her with an official staff pass so she could move freely around the backstage area and off-stage floor, provided she remained within Lu Youqing’s line of sight at all times.

To ensure they could contact each other, Lu Youqing unexpectedly returned Yan He’s phone to her. Taking the device, Yan He immediately checked it over several times right in front of her. Watching Yan He’s instinctive distrust, Lu Youqing felt a sharp, bitter pang in her chest.

“I didn’t open it… it has stayed like this the entire time. You can rest assured, A-He,” she explained weakly.

By then, Lu Youqing had changed into her attire for the show—a high-end, elegantly minimalist dress. Wearing it, she looked as though the garment had finally found its perfect owner; beneath the dazzling spotlights, she was utterly luminous.

Yan He merely slipped the phone quietly into her pocket. Her gaze held no awe or admiration, only a polite, distant calm—the kind reserved for casual acquaintances.

“Understood, Teacher Lu,” she said faintly.

The smile on Lu Youqing’s face nearly collapsed on the spot. [unauthorized copy]She almost pleaded with Yan He not to address her so formally. Having known each other for seven years, Yan He knew precisely which words would cut her the deepest.

For Lu Youqing, no amount of angry scolding or open hatred was as devastating as Yan He’s casual, breezy distance—a coldness that treated her like a complete stranger. That was the one outcome Lu Youqing truly could not endure.

Yan He merely curved her lips into a faint smile. Looking at Lu Youqing’s helpless, heartbroken expression, it felt as though a cold rain were falling over her own heart, accompanied by a dark sense of satisfaction. She couldn’t even tell whether seeing Lu Youqing hurt made her feel pity or relief.

Regardless of which it was, she wouldn’t be by her side to see it much longer.

Yan He smiled softly, taking Lu Youqing’s hand, and looked toward the stage with a gentle expression: “The recording is about to start. Shouldn’t you go prepare? Some audience members in the hall are already starting to notice us.”

Lu Youqing looked at her, unwilling to break eye contact for even a second. She hated being away from Yan He for a single moment. Over the past few days, the dynamic between them had grown strangely surreal—Yan He no longer showed explicit hostility or cold neglect, but had adopted a passive, detached compliance. She allowed Lu Youqing to do whatever she wanted, responding gently to every gesture, yet remaining fundamentally detached from the relationship itself.

Lu Youqing felt utterly insecure, terrified that Yan He was quietly orchestrating something she couldn’t handle. Yet the show was starting.

“Don’t wander off. Wait for me right here,” she said, squeezing Yan He’s hand tightly, her eyes trembling in a mix of desperate pleading and rigid demand.

Yan He offered a soft smile and nodded. Only then did Lu Youqing turn to step onto the stage.

As the theme music echoed through the venue speakers, the recording officially commenced. Yan He took a seat in the audience section, watching Lu Youqing walk center-stage to interact with the host and fellow guests.

She sat relaxed in her chair, surrounded by enthusiastic audience members. Yet unlike the fans around her—who were either absorbed in the recording or cheering for their favorite stars—Yan He merely scanned the stage with a detached gaze. Occasionally, right before Lu Youqing looked her way, she would catch her eye and offer a brief, pleasant smile.

Her attention drifted continually across the hall, her peripheral vision subtly counting the figures stationed around the floor.

One, two, three… eight, nine, ten.

Ten bodyguards.

Yan He rested her chin on one hand, staring at the men in black suits positioned around the perimeter of the venue, letting out a quiet, bitter smile.

Lu Youqing was truly terrified of her leaving. Even though Yan He had echoed her desires over the past few days—lying repeatedly about how she would never leave and would stay with her forever—their previous encounter had clearly left a deep shadow over Lu Youqing. It was almost absurd that she had arranged this many security personnel.

Yan He’s eyes darkened, her emotions turning heavy. Lu Youqing had claimed she would never force her again, yet everything she was doing now surpassed her past behavior. Those assurances read the original at bailiantales.com that she had changed were nothing more than lies—deceiving Yan He, and deceiving herself.

Yan He lifted her head, burying the bitterness deep within her eyes as she looked back toward the stage. The show had progressed to the interview segment. The host began asking Lu Youqing various questions—starting with her recent award wins before inevitably steering toward personal gossip.

Lu Youqing’s public declaration during her acceptance speech was practically an official coming-out statement. Coupled with her sudden cancellation of major work engagements during her peak popularity, the media had naturally speculated that she was away on a honeymoon with her lover.

“Teacher Lu, regarding your current romantic life, is there anything you’d be willing to share with everyone?” The host’s question immediately triggered a wave of excited screams from the audience.

Lu Youqing smiled softly and turned her gaze toward the crowd, letting her eyes land right where Yan He was seated. Seeing Yan He sitting there obediently watching her, the anxiety in her heart finally settled down. She turned back to the camera with a gentle smile.

“Actually… I’m already engaged,” she admitted with a touch of bashfulness, lifting her left hand to display the ring fitted around her middle finger. The silver-white band gleamed beneath the studio lights, prompting another roar from the audience.

Yan He sat quietly in the crowd, staring at the sparkling diamond ring. Unlike the blushing bride on stage, her face was completely cold, even tight with tension.

Because Lu Youqing had lingered her gaze on her earlier, a few keen-eyed audience members were already peeking in her direction. Yan He had to tilt her body away to avoid being recognized.

“Oh! Congratulations, Teacher Lu! Happy marriage!” The host was stunned for a moment before offering warm congratulations, internally thrilled that his show had scored such massive exclusive news.

Lu Youqing merely smiled without expanding further.

“Could you share a little about how you and your partner met, or what your daily life is like? I’m sure everyone here is dying to know,” the host pushed enthusiastically.

Hearing this, Lu Youqing lowered her eyes, her long lashes fluttering beneath the bright lights like a fairy descending into the mortal realm. After a brief pause, she looked up.

“My partner loves me very much, and I love my partner very much too.” She offered only this single sentence—her voice soft yet unwaveringly firm, spoken as much to the audience as to herself.

Sitting below, Yan He froze. Her motion to stand up paused midway. She looked up at Lu Youqing on stage, taking in her smiling face, yet seeing only the deep, suffocating insecurity hidden behind that smile.

She is still forcing herself, still refusing to accept reality, still clinging to self-deception.

Yan He offered a bitter, silent smile. Except… your lover is leaving.

Yan He’s eyes grew profound, her gaze toward Lu Youqing laced with a complex tangle of emotions. She remained frozen for a long moment, only snapping back to reality when the interview concluded and transitioned into the game segment. Clenching her fists, she stood up and signaled to a female bodyguard standing nearest to her.

“I need to use the restroom. Lu Youqing won’t feel at ease if I go alone—she’ll feel much safer if you accompany me.”

Yan He glanced at Lu Youqing, who was changing into her team uniform on stage, and spoke in a calm, matter-of-fact tone while her attention was occupied.

The bodyguard found her logic sound. Glancing toward the stage, she signaled to the other guards before stepping in line behind Yan He.

The restroom was located on the far side of the studio corridor. Once inside, facing the bodyguard who stepped in right behind her, a line of black frustration crossed Yan He’s forehead. She shut the stall door with a firm snap.

“Please respect my privacy.”

The bodyguard: “…”

The restroom was close to the main recording floor. From inside, the muffled noise of the studio could still be heard, alongside the cheerful laughter of the live audience. The show was clearly proceeding smoothly.

The bodyguard stood on the polished tile floor, her shadow crisp against the clean surface. She waited patiently for Yan He [bailiantales.com]to open the door amidst the muffled buzz of the show.

Five minutes passed. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes.

The bodyguard knit her brows, stepping forward to knock on the stall door: “Miss Yan?”

Silence. The quiet restroom offered only the faint echo of her own voice and the distant muffled noise from the studio. Panic instantly flared in the bodyguard’s chest; she knocked heavily on the door with increased force.

“Miss Yan? Are you in there?”

Still, there was no response. The bodyguard’s face darkened instantly. She raised her foot and kicked the stall door wide open.

Outside, the moon shone brightly amidst sparse stars. High up on the wall, the restroom window stood wide open, a cold night draft blowing through the frame into the silent room.

Yan He was gone.