Best Actress A and Her White Moonlight - Chapter 6

After the meal, Lin Wanchun took a glass from the sterilization cabinet and poured the milk. She didn’t speak, and Gu Chenxing didn’t dare to either, fidgeting and glancing around awkwardly before eventually—and thinking she was being subtle—gluing her gaze to the glass.

Even she wasn’t sure if she was stealing glances at those jade-like, flawless hands or if she was just eyeing the milk inside the glass.

Judging strictly by appearance, Lin Wanchun didn’t look like an Alpha.

She had a pair of shimmering, captivating fox-like eyes that often gave the illusion of being gentle and affectionate. The soft arch of her eyebrows neutralized the sharp contours of her face, weakening almost all sense of aggression.

The light gray tweed jacket made her look casual and lazy, further softening the innate danger of an Alpha and deceiving the senses of the ignorant into thinking she was a harmless Omega or Beta.

Lin Wanchun, as if unaware of Gu Chenxing’s burning gaze, placed the glass on a tray and put it in the microwave.

Gu Chenxing took the opportunity to look at the Alpha’s back. Her smooth long hair was neatly pinned up, though a few stray strands fell down, swaying against her snowy, slender neck—a sight that made one’s heart itch.

A square, flesh-colored scent-blocking patch was firmly stuck over the Alpha’s gland, preventing any aggressive pheromones from leaking out.

I wonder what Lin Wanchun smells like…

The moment the thought popped up, Gu Chenxing startled herself. She snapped out of her daydream, and a wave of guilt sparked the urge to flee.

Her body received the signal and reacted faster than her brain. She jerked backward, the legs of her chair scraping against the floor with a sharp, ear-piercing screech.

Ding.

Almost simultaneously, the microwave timer ended with a crisp chime.

Lin Wanchun gave no reaction to the commotion behind her. She brought the tray to the dining table and asked softly, “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing.” Gu Chenxing guiltily averted her gaze. She could hardly say she was curious about what the other woman smelled like.

The scent of pheromones was a deeply private thing; how was a thought like that any different from being a pervert?

A dull sense of annoyance rose in Gu Chenxing’s heart. It must be because Zhou Xi had been prattling on about the Alpha riot at the school gate all day yesterday that her thoughts had been led astray.

The glass soon became cool enough to touch. Lin Wanchun placed the steaming milk in front of Gu Chenxing, breaking the silence: “Didn’t you want to talk? Ask whatever you want. Go ahead.”

Gu Chenxing gripped the glass. The warmth traveled from the glass to her palms, and slowly, her entire body seemed to thaw.

Even though she was the one who initiated the talk, now that she was actually facing Lin Wanchun, she didn’t know where to start.

Toward Gu Chenxing, Lin Wanchun possessed a natural tolerance. She didn’t rush or press her, and she didn’t even keep her eyes on Gu Chenxing, sparing her from any extra pressure.

“You…” Gu Chenxing thought for a long time, still unsure of the right entry point for this conversation.

“Are you nervous?” Lin Wanchun spoke suddenly. A stray hair at her temple swayed playfully with the current of the warm air. She reached up to tuck it behind her ear and smiled softly.

The shallow smile softened her vivid features, bringing out a gentle, quiet charm.

Gu Chenxing was dazed. She thought to herself that it wasn’t entirely her fault for having poor vigilance when she foolishly followed Lin Wanchun home yesterday. With such a gentle, beautiful woman, the moment the corners of her lips curled up, one’s soul would fly away—how could anyone stay on guard?

It took her a long while to snap back to reality. Her cheeks had flushed a deep red without her noticing. She quickly buried her head and sipped the steaming milk.

Perhaps the hot milk did its job, as Gu Chenxing finally summoned the courage to look up and meet Lin Wanchun’s eyes. In the moment she opened her mouth, all the questions she had calculated vanished. She hesitated for a long time before mumbling in a small voice, “I want to go home for a bit.”

“Okay.”

No questions, no disapproval. The simple answer made Gu Chenxing visibly brighten.

She pursed her lips into a wide smile, and the ring of milk foam on her upper lip moved with it, looking like a Santa Claus mustache stuck in a storefront window.

“I’ll go change and wash up first!” She lowered her head and finished the milk in a few gulps, then ran toward the bathroom with light steps, giving Lin Wanchun no chance to warn her.

Oh well, she’ll find out herself when she looks in the mirror.

Lin Wanchun looked at the empty milk glass, her chest trembling slightly with a low, soft chuckle.

How wonderful. The sixteen-year-old Gu Chenxing was full of vitality and optimism. Even after suffering a blow, she still had the courage to face reality and walk toward the future.

It was lunchtime, so there were few people out in the complex. From every household came the rhythmic sound of spatulas hitting iron woks. The aroma of home-cooked meals wafted through half-open windows, sparking a desire in one’s heart to return home quickly.

Lin Wanchun stepped on the brake, and the car came to a steady halt downstairs. She turned her head, catching Gu Chenxing’s secret, peeking gaze.

Gu Chenxing quickly looked away, her chest filling with the guilt of being caught. She turned to look out the window, wanting to jump out of the car and bolt.

Lin Wanchun knew Gu Chenxing had been stealing glances at her, but she hadn’t expected to lock eyes the moment she turned. Seeing Gu Chenxing’s ears turning crimson under her stray hairs, she thoughtfully bypassed the awkwardness and asked gently, “Do you want me to go up with you?”

Gu Chenxing’s hand on the door handle paused. Most of her face was hidden in her scarf; at the question, she tucked her head even further down, and her red ears followed suit, bashfully hiding from view.

Her beautiful eyebrows knitted together, forming a small crease between her eyes. She agonized for a long time before finally whispering back, “Is that okay?”

She had to admit that in just a few days, she had developed a deep sense of reliance on Lin Wanchun. As long as she was by Lin Wanchun’s side, most of her dread and tension vanished.

It was as if her heart had already decided that Lin Wanchun was someone she could trust and depend on.

Lin Wanchun answered with action. She briskly pulled the car keys from the ignition, put them in her pocket, and stepped out of the car. “Let’s go.”

Even though she was returning to her own home, Gu Chenxing followed closely behind Lin Wanchun as if she were a first-time visitor who didn’t know the way.

When they entered the elevator, Lin Wanchun stood before the buttons and waited for a moment, but Gu Chenxing didn’t speak.

She looked back and found Gu Chenxing lost in thought, her expression dazed, reminiscent of a drowsy sloth clinging to a eucalyptus tree.

Silly and cute.

“Which floor?” Lin Wanchun interrupted her daydreaming. Recalling the nickname she’d heard at the school gate that day, the corners of her lips curled up slightly with a touch of teasing, “Gu Xingxing?”

Her husky voice was low and resonant, carrying the mature charm of time. She pronounced the three simple syllables with a melodic rise and fall, like a little tune leaking from a teacher’s gramophone.

Gu Chenxing felt an inexplicable sense of shame. Her desk-mate called her that every day and it felt like nothing, but now… Her head hung even lower as she stared at the back of Lin Wanchun’s heels. “Thirteenth floor,” she answered in a muffled voice.

The ascending elevator emitted a faint hum. Gu Chenxing’s mood became increasingly tense as the floor numbers jumped higher. A faint, flickering hope remained in her heart—

Maybe the things I heard last night were just angry words Mom and Dad said in the heat of the moment?

Ding.

The elevator doors slid open. This time, without waiting for Lin Wanchun’s reminder, Gu Chenxing took the lead. She stopped in front of her door, took two deep breaths, then turned with a forced smile. “Could you… wait for me here?”

Lin Wanchun saw right through the nervous unease hidden under Gu Chenxing’s facade of calm. She didn’t expose it, but instead took a half-step back. “I’ll wait for you here.”

After a thought, she added: “Don’t be afraid.”

Gu Chenxing’s nose felt prickly. Fearing she would lose face in front of Lin Wanchun again, she nodded frantically, turned, pulled out her keys, and ducked inside.

The house was deathly silent. Not a sound. She turned toward the study and saw the mess all over the floor.

The shards of the ceramic cup lay at the entrance, uncleaned. Like her failure to return home last night, no one cared.

A massive sense of emptiness washed over her, along with the relief of the “other shoe” finally dropping. She dragged her weary body back to the door, pushed it open, and smiled at Lin Wanchun. “They’re gone. Come in and sit for a while.”

Fortunately, the argument yesterday had been confined to the study, and the rest of the house was unaffected. Though the furniture in the living room was old, it was tidy and clean.

Lin Wanchun saw the small trophies lining the TV cabinet—mostly cheap crystal cups and gold-painted iron trophies.

The trophies were well-preserved; one could easily read the small print on the bases.

Most were from ordinary schools or obscure youth centers and didn’t carry much prestige, but to her parents back then, these were honors worth bragging about.

Unfortunately, that was the past.

The electronic keyboard in the corner was covered in dust. The black bag holding a wooden guitar was stained and mottled, showing that its owner hadn’t touched it in a long time.

In truth, these were the omens.

When her parents were burdened by a mortgage and earning meager salaries, no matter how hard life was, they supported their daughter’s dream and sent her to study the music she loved. They couldn’t give her the best, but they gave everything they could.

But later, they became busier and busier, not returning to the house in the small town for months at a time. Aside from necessary tuition and a bare-minimum living allowance, they left no other money.

Sixteen-year-old Gu Chenxing believed her parents were truly struggling with work. Being sensible, she gave up the art school track and began studying academic subjects seriously, never imagining…

“What are you looking at?” Gu Chenxing walked out of the kitchen and placed a glass of warm water in front of Lin Wanchun. She followed Lin Wanchun’s gaze and saw the guitar and keyboard in the corner.

She felt a bit embarrassed and scratched her cheek. “Those are from a long time…”

“Can you play a piece for me?” Lin Wanchun interrupted her. Her clear amber eyes reflected a hidden sorrow that she buried deep, vanishing in a blink. “Anything will do.”