After the Black Moonlight’s "Death Escape" Failed [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 58.2

Chapter 58.2: Mint Chocolate

“…As I thought,” Wen Fengyue chuckled lowly. “Jiao Jiao likes seeing me act weak, don’t you?”

Having her inner thoughts pierced, the tips of Jiao Qingyin’s ears flushed a shade of crimson. She thought she had hidden it well enough—how was she discovered?

In the previous world, she had suffered a great deal because she couldn’t resist Al’s act of playing obedient to please her. In this world, she had been careful to hide her preferences, yet she hadn’t expected this person… to still teach herself through intuition.

Why wasn’t she this perceptive during the acting rehearsal earlier!

She shook her head, feigning indifference, and firmly denied Wen Fengyue’s suspicion. Meanwhile, she felt a bit depressed; she had previously teased Wen Fengyue for liking to hear her call her “Teacher,” but she hadn’t expected herself to be exactly the same. The two of them were truly… strangely similar in many odd ways.

Wen Fengyue tilted her head and smiled.

The version of her in this world rarely showed such a simple, sweet smile. The moment Jiao Qingyin saw it, her heart began to thud loudly. Fortunately, someone called out to them at that moment, allowing her to escape the predicament before her anomaly was noticed.

Returning to the set, Wen Fengyue didn’t fail again. Sitting at the desk, she watched Jiao Qingyin push open the door and enter; the look of being captivated was perfectly frozen on her face before being obscured beneath her lenses.

“Student, is there anything I can help you with?” she asked.

Cheng Xing hung her head, looking hesitant and timid.

Wei Ling waited patiently; she was willing to spend more time on her students, especially this student.

Finally, Cheng Xing made a decision. She gripped the hem of her shirt tightly and spoke with her eyes closed: “Teacher—no, Pro… Professor, I heard… you occasionally give students psychological counseling. I want… you to help me.”

A few seconds later, the corners of Wei Ling’s mouth curved upward. “Of course—you can just call me ‘Teacher.’ I will help you through your difficulties.”

Cheng Xing opened her eyes in pleasant surprise, meeting the other’s gaze.

The person before her was beautiful when she smiled.

Yet years later, when Cheng Xing recalled this scene, she only felt that back then, a beast had opened a giant maw dripping with blood and saliva toward her.

The day’s filming finished quickly. Usually, a crew would have a gathering at this time; those who couldn’t afford a natural restaurant would at least gather to drink nutrient solutions together. But Jing Ziqing only said, “Filming starts on time tomorrow, no being late,” and dismissed everyone.

Listening to the other actors’ quiet complaints about the director, Jiao Qingyin removed her makeup with an unperturbed expression. Upon exiting the dressing room, she ran straight into Wen Fengyue, who had just changed out of her costume.

The other woman’s eye makeup was slightly smudged; the blurred red eyeshadow, no longer suppressed by glasses, gave her a more seductive air than she had during the day.

“I’ll wait for you,” Jiao Qingyin said before Wen Fengyue could speak.

“Mm!!”

Wen Fengyue ducked into the dressing room. Watching her back, Jiao Qingyin thought that if the woman had a tail, it would be wagging very happily right now.

The makeup artist had already finished work. Jiao Qingyin originally wanted to go in and help Wen Fengyue, but she spotted Jing Ziqing waving her hands and running over. Anything that makes her expression this excited must be related to money, Jiao Qingyin thought silently.

Sure enough, Jing Ziqing only offered a perfunctory polite remark before getting straight to the point:

“Because the hype for Satellite is so high lately, Star-Forge wants to change the plan to ‘simultaneous filming and broadcasting’ to maximize the traffic. I think it’s feasible, and the schedules for other actors can be arranged. Now it just depends on you two leads…”

Jing Ziqing didn’t hide her motive at all; she practically had “I want to earn more” written on her face. Jiao Qingyin didn’t dislike this clear-sighted personality. Simultaneous broadcasting didn’t affect her, so she said: “If Teacher Wen is okay with it, I am too.”

“Wen Fengyue said the same thing, so I’ll assume you both agree!” Jing Ziqing’s eyes suddenly sparkled. “Then let’s hurry up with the filming these next few days and strive to finish the first ten episodes within this week!”

…A week?

Sensing a commotion, Wen Fengyue stepped out of the dressing room just in time to hear Jing Ziqing’s words. She and Jiao Qingyin simultaneously cast identical glares at the director.

“Wh-What?” Jing Ziqing suddenly felt guilty, but still tried to act tough. “Why make me look like a capitalist? I’m not the producer, I only own a small portion of the shares in Satellite!”

Jiao Qingyin’s tone was calm: “Today, with the assistance of the AI and multiple sets filming at once, we only finished half an episode’s worth of scenes.”

“So I hope everyone will stay for the night shift…”

“I hold the largest investment share of Satellite, Director Jing. Think carefully before you decide.”

Jing Ziqing shut up. Jiao Qingyin gave a kind smile and pushed Wen Fengyue back into the dressing room.

The sky had darkened. The twilight dressing room held only the two of them. With Jiao Qingyin sitting beside her, Wen Fengyue’s movements in removing her makeup became stiff. She removed her makeup while peeking at Jiao Qingyin through the mirror, until the person who was fiddling with her device suddenly looked up, their gazes colliding.

Wen Fengyue wanted to look away, but the experience of catching a glimpse of the other’s thoughts earlier that day allowed her restless heart to steady slightly. She forced herself to remain still.

In the mirror, Jiao Qingyin’s eyes curved into a smile at her.

Wen Fengyue fled in a panic, pulling her gaze back in embarrassment.

“I installed a bread-baking program for the housekeeping robot. Once we get home, we can have dinner immediately,” Jiao Qingyin said in a pleasant mood. “Do you like chocolate flavor?”

Even though her face was still burning and she didn’t even know what chocolate was, Wen Fengyue still answered every question: “I’ve never had it, but I’ll definitely like any bread flavor you choose.”

The answer was so cute that it prompted Jiao Qingyin to use the System Store for the second time in her life, buying a whole pack of chocolate with points.

She pretended to reach into her pocket, then held out both hands as fists in front of Wen Fengyue. “Guess which hand has the chocolate?”

Wen Fengyue froze. This was a game she had often seen her foster parents play with her younger sister when she was a child. They would let the greedy sister guess which hand held a candy; if she guessed right, the candy was her reward.

Wen Fengyue had once desperately wanted to participate in this game. But the only time she was allowed to join, the candy she guessed correctly was given directly to her sister by the foster parents.

“Your sister is still small, you should know to give in to her.”

She had refused, but under her sister’s loud crying and her foster parents’ sharp reprimands, she eventually lowered her head. However, after the sister took the candy from her hand, she didn’t eat it. Instead, she peeled the wrapper and threw the sparkling candy onto the ground.

Wen Fengyue still remembered that the girl, wearing pristine white leather shoes, screamed and cried while stomping the candy into dust-covered shards. Once she had stomped enough, she pushed Wen Fengyue forcefully: “Go away! You stole my candy! You want to steal my Mommy and Daddy too!”

The foster parents didn’t blame the sister; instead, they heartfully embraced their daughter, constantly promising they only loved her.

Standing to the side, Wen Fengyue watched the candy on the floor and the loving family before her. The last bit of expectation she had for that family was crushed along with the candy. She remembered the day she was adopted; the couple had held her hand and promised they would love her forever, saying they would always be a family.

How did she believe them so blindly back then?

A tug on her cheek pulled Wen Fengyue back to reality. Seeing her snap out of it, Jiao Qingyin retracted her hand and reclined her fists. “Left or right?”

This was Jiao’s first time playing such an innocent game with someone else, and her eyes shimmered with light.

Wen Fengyue’s gaze was vacant, her heart filled with an overwhelming tension—so tense that a bit of sweat appeared on the tip of her nose. Her eyes moved back and forth between Jiao Qingyin’s hands. She couldn’t make a decision, her body growing tighter; she had never been so desperate to answer a question correctly.

Jiao Qingyin sensed something was wrong. But when she tried to put her hands down to check on Wen Fengyue, the other misunderstood the action, thinking her hesitation had caused displeasure. She hurriedly blurted out: “Right hand!”

Jiao Qingyin paused for a moment, then turned her right hand palm-up and opened it.

She didn’t deliberately slow the movement, but Wen Fengyue held her breath, feeling as though she had waited for this moment for a long, long time. The shadows of her childhood mixed with her current thoughts, pulling her heart higher and higher until—

“Correct!” Jiao Qingyin’s tone was bouncy. She smilingly stuffed the chocolate into Wen Fengyue’s hand. “Quick, taste it.”

Wen Fengyue looked at her palm. There lay a small, exquisitely wrapped square. Dark paper was printed with a gold pattern she had never seen before; it looked far more enticing than the candy in her childhood memory.

Feeling as though she were in the clouds, she clumsily unwrapped the paper and took out the block of dark chocolate. A distinctive fragrance wafted out, but Wen Fengyue hesitated. “I…”

Jiao Qingyin leaned over the vanity mirror, blinking as if waiting for her to continue. The moment Wen Fengyue met her eyes, she forgot what she wanted to say. To avoid looking too pathetic, she steeled her heart and put the chocolate into her mouth.

A bittersweet taste with a hint of milk immediately spread through her oral cavity. As the chocolate melted, Wen Fengyue belatedly realized that she had indeed received a candy of her own—it wasn’t an illusion, nor was it stolen.

“How is it?”

Wen Fengyue’s response was a bit slow: “I’ve never had it before… It’s very special, very delicious.”

In Wen Fengyue’s view, the taste of the chocolate itself was a seven, but because it was a gift from Jiao Qingyin, it was a ten. And since Jiao Qingyin smiled while watching her eat it, it scored a hundred.

Wen Fengyue felt the chocolate melting bit by bit on her tongue, and her facial muscles softened. She ate the chocolate in silence. Once the last trace of flavor vanished, she pursed her lips and asked the question that had been circling her mind:

“If I had chosen the left hand, would I have been unable to eat it?”

Upon hearing this, Jiao Qingyin held out her still-closed left hand. In her palm was a chocolate with a different colored wrapper. “If you chose the left hand, it would just be a different flavor.”

Both were chocolate; the difference was one had dried blueberries and the other had milk. No matter which hand she chose, Wen Fengyue wouldn’t have been disappointed.

Wen Fengyue dazed. Would the chocolate in the left hand be even more delicious than the right? If she had chosen both hands back then—

Upon realizing her own thought, her face paled. She had clearly received a candy, yet she still wanted another; she knew deep down that if she got the second one, she would want a third. Realizing the greedy side of her personality, Wen Fengyue clenched her fists, her breathing becoming hurried.

Jiao Qingyin waited for a while but didn’t see the usually “greedy” puppy ask for the other piece. Just as she was wondering why, her device rang.

It was a call from her mother in this world. Jiao Qingyin instinctively glanced at Wen Fengyue. Seeing her lost in thought, she said, “I’ll be right back,” and walked out of the dressing room.

The original Jiao had previously told the company she wanted to step over Wen Fengyue to rise to the top. For the sake of her mother, the company agreed and arranged for them to co-star in Satellite, designing a marketing plan to “suck blood” (parasitize fame)… Jiao Qingyin didn’t intend to let Wen Fengyue know about this.

When Jiao Qingyin had contacted the company earlier to change Wen Fengyue’s schedule, she hadn’t spoken to the mother. This was the first time since her transmigration that she faced direct communication with her. She entered the lounge next to the dressing room, stood with her back against the door, and answered the call.

“What kind of tricks are you playing lately?”

The original owner’s mother was Lin Chu, a career-oriented strongwoman. Her personality was cold and fierce, very unapproachable. Combined with the fact that she had the original owner by accident, her attitude toward the rebellious daughter had always been poor. Lin Chu’s conduct was considered upright; she despised underhanded tricks, which led the scheming and sinister original owner to be very resistant to contacting her. This mother and daughter basically wouldn’t say a word to each other for a month, which greatly facilitated Jiao Qingyin’s role-play.

In front of family, the original Jiao didn’t even bother to pretend. So Jiao Qingyin pulled a cynical smile. “What business is it of yours?”

Lin Chu’s already furrowed brow tightened further into a “川” shape. She suppressed her rage, staring at Jiao Qingyin on the screen. “Jiao Qingyin, watch your attitude.”

Jiao Qingyin had no parents; she had never experienced familial love. Now, having an elder scolding her by name made her feel awkward yet faintly sad. She met Lin Chu’s gaze; the woman looked domineering, but the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and neck showed she was no longer young.

And in reality, she would never reach the day her hair turned white—

Soon, a car accident would leave Lin Chu in a life-threatening condition. She originally had a chance to live, but because the original owner delayed signing the consent form for bionic limb implantation, she would die on the operating table.

“Jiao Qingyin, where is your upbringing when facing your mother!”

Jiao Qingyin snapped back to reality and asked with a sneer: “What have you ever taught me? Say what you have to say, quickly.”

Lin Chu couldn’t stand this attitude. Not wanting to waste time arguing, she hung up directly. Jiao Qingyin stared at the black screen for a moment. The door she was leaning against moved slightly.

Sensing something, she opened the door with lightning speed and caught the person’s hand before they could flee. Caught red-handed, Wen Fengyue immediately lowered her head. “…I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.” After saying that, she added at high speed: “Don’t be sad.”

Jiao Qingyin was dazed for a moment before realizing the other thought she had argued with her mother and was comforting her. Wen Fengyue’s face still had water on it; she had clearly rushed over after a quick makeup removal. Her eyes were red—perhaps from the eyeshadow not being cleaned properly.

“I’m not sad,” Jiao Qingyin said.

Wen Fengyue clearly didn’t believe her. She gripped Jiao’s hand back to show her support, but touched something hard. Seeing she was discovered, Jiao Qingyin stopped teasing her and stuffed the chocolate over. “This one is for you too.”

Wen Fengyue stiffened slightly. “But I didn’t guess right.”

“You don’t want it?”

“…I do.”

Seeing the smile in Jiao Qingyin’s eyes, Wen Fengyue no longer hesitated and followed her heart to take the chocolate. However, in the movement, she seemed to glimpse a mark resembling a tooth bite on Jiao Qingyin’s thumb web. But she soon forgot about it in the taste of the blueberry chocolate.

“Which flavor do you like more?” Jiao Qingyin asked, leaning against the door frame.

Wen Fengyue answered without thinking: “I like both.” After a pause, she spoke indistinctly: “I also have…”

Her voice was too low; Jiao Qingyin didn’t hear the second half and tugged her sleeve, signaling her to repeat it.

Wen Fengyue exhaled. By now, the chocolate in her mouth had mostly melted; the sweet scent of blueberry diffused between them with her breath. She pulled two candies from her pocket. Through the transparent wrappers, Jiao Qingyin guessed they were mint-flavored.

“They aren’t as good as the chocolate you gave me… but I want you to taste…” Before Wen Fengyue finished, Jiao Qingyin peeled one and popped it into her mouth.

The cold taste stimulated her taste buds, immediately bringing a connection to Jiao’s mind. “It’s a bit like that cigarette you smoked the day we met.”

Her secret hit, Wen Fengyue rubbed the floor with the sole of her shoe, her expression awkward, but she admitted honestly: “Mm. They are candies that imitate particle cigarettes. I usually eat them when I want to smoke but can’t.”

“You like mint?”

“…Mint is the cheapest.”

Wen Fengyue was acting like a dazed fool, completely unaware that this was a perfect opportunity to act pitiful and play for sympathy. Her blue-green eyes were clean; they held nothing but Jiao Qingyin.

While her mouth was icy cold, Jiao Qingyin felt like she was biting into the other’s burning heart. This caused her to curl a hint of an ambiguous smile.

Wen Fengyue’s heart rate instantly accelerated. Then, Jiao Qingyin wrapped an arm around her neck, spun her around, and gave a gentle push. She fell back onto the sofa by the lounge door.

Jiao Qingyin pinched Wen’s cheek, which was slightly puffed out because the chocolate hadn’t fully melted, and said in a low, intimate voice:

“Then… Teacher Wen, do you want to taste some mint-flavored chocolate?”

Wen Fengyue’s eyes slowly widened.

Their lips met. The icy mint candy and the blueberry chocolate merged together, gradually becoming indistinguishable from one another.