Can't Hide My Love for You - Chapter 12

By the time the movie ended, night had fallen. In the distance, neon lights flickered on the facades of skyscrapers. When Cheng Yixin went to settle the bill, she was informed that Chi Yi had already paid.

“Cheng-laoshi, please wait a moment,” a staff member said, stepping out from behind the counter with a paper bag. “President Chi said it would be cold tonight and asked me to hand this coat over to you.”

Cheng Yixin pulled the garment from the bag; it was the white blazer Chi Yi had been wearing earlier. “Alright, thank you.”

She slipped the blazer on. The small, stray blanket now had a home inside the paper bag as she stepped out of the private cinema. A faint, elegant fragrance lingered around her. Cheng Yixin instinctively lowered her head to sniff it, momentarily forgetting she was wearing a mask, which made the scent tantalizingly out of reach.

She didn’t tell Chi Yi she had finished the movie until she got home. Chi Yi was likely busy; she replied with a rare, brief “Mm,” and nothing more.

Li Wenjing was once again nagging her to practice singing in her spare time. Looking at the message, Cheng Yixin put her phone down with a look of utter exhaustion and picked up the lyrics sheet marked with Cantonese phonetic notations. She wasn’t slow when it came to learning, but her lack of interest in this particular song made her progress sluggish. After three lessons, her music teacher looked at her as if he’d seen a ghost.

After staring at the lyrics for a while, her mind began to wander. She finally set the paper down and picked up her phone instead. As she nibbled on the cookies Chi Yi had given her, she scrolled through Weibo. Suddenly, her brow furrowed—she saw her own name at the bottom of the trending searches.

It started with an anonymous post from someone claiming to be an industry insider. They had dropped dozens of “bombshells,” ranging from A-list actors’ secret marriages to low-tier starlets being kept by wealthy benefactors. Despite a lack of concrete evidence, netizens were reposting it feverishly, and people began trying to match the rumors to specific celebrities.

The “tea” pinned on Cheng Yixin claimed she flew abroad regularly for plastic surgery, that her rise to fame after years of obscurity was due to “capital backing,” and that she shared an “unspeakable relationship” with a certain tycoon.

As the subject of the rumors, Cheng Yixin found them laughably absurd.

The surgery rumors stemmed from a time she had her wisdom teeth pulled; a marketing account had spun her swollen face into “failed plastic surgery.” As for the tycoon, it was utter nonsense, though she couldn’t rule out someone deliberately muddying the waters. Without evidence, the agency wouldn’t intervene; in their eyes, this was just another form of exposure.

A WeChat notification popped up—it was from Chi Yi. She had indeed been busy earlier, having just finished a dinner with suppliers.

Cheng Yixin stared at the message for a long time, her mind spinning through a thousand thoughts. Finally, she took a screenshot of the “black material” about herself on Weibo and sent it to Chi Yi.

She watched the top of the chat box. Chi Yi’s name changed to “Typing…” then back to her name, then “Typing…” again. It seemed the other woman didn’t know what to make of the screenshot and was hesitating on how to respond.

[Cheng Yixin]: Have you ever searched for me online? I have quite a lot of “black material.”

This time, Chi Yi replied quickly.

[Chi Yi]: I have eyes. I don’t need to learn about you through the mouths of others.

Cheng Yixin’s expression softened. A ripple of warmth spread through her heart.

She stood up and walked out the door. The night breeze brushed against her cheeks, slightly cool. There was a set of garden furniture in the yard; she pulled out a chair and sat down, feeling the icy touch of the iron seat.

The moon was exceptionally round tonight. Cheng Yixin blinked at it twice before initiating a voice call to Chi Yi.

The call was picked up almost instantly. Once connected, Cheng Yixin found herself at a loss for words; she just wanted to hear Chi Yi’s voice. They sat in a silence that felt surprisingly comfortable.

“What are you doing?” Cheng Yixin asked.

“Just leaving the restaurant, heading back.”

She heard the sound of a car door closing, and the background noise became quiet.

“Oh~” Cheng Yixin hugged one arm as she heard Chi Yi ask: “Are the cookies finished?”

“I brought one box back.” Cheng Yixin thought for a moment, then added: “Your blazer and blanket are at my place too.”

She paused for a second before extending an invitation: “Do you want to come see my new house?”

Since Cheng Yixin had just moved into the Junshan District today and hadn’t memorized the route yet, she shared her real-time location and waited for Chi Yi to find her.

While waiting, she looked around. Junshan was a high-end neighborhood with a beautiful artificial lake in the center. The strict security meant she didn’t have to worry about paparazzi sneaking in. Directly opposite her was another two-story villa, currently shrouded in darkness. It seemed she and her neighbor across the street were the only residents in this immediate area.

Standing by the fence of the opposite villa, she peered inside. The neighbor had planted many flowers—red, yellow, purple, pink, and blue. She didn’t recognize the species, but they looked like carnations, their full buds spilling over the fence. If this were a public area, it would surely be a “viral” photo spot.

She could faintly hear the sound of water—the splashing of fish tails. She imagined her neighbor was likely an elderly retiree with the time and patience to tend to a garden and fish.

Feeling the chill, she went back inside. She took Chi Yi’s blazer from the sofa and folded it neatly.

Then, a realization hit her. Chi Yi had been wearing a short crop top under this blazer. If she had left the blazer with Cheng Yixin, did she go down to the car wearing just the top? The top wasn’t overly revealing, but the thought of strangers’ eyes on Chi Yi made Cheng Yixin’s fingers tighten, wrinkling the white fabric.

Ding-dong—

The doorbell rang. Cheng Yixin went to open it. Chi Yi stood at the door, and Cheng Yixin’s eyes immediately dropped to check her outfit.

She was still wearing the same trousers, but she had changed into a silk blouse with a draped bow at the neckline—casual yet elegant. Everything that should be covered was covered. Cheng Yixin’s furrowed brow smoothed out instantly.

“Why that expression?” Chi Yi asked, amused by her changing face.

“It’s nothing,” Cheng Yixin said. “Was it hard to find this place?”

“Not at all.” Chi Yi rubbed her nose. She had been shocked to hear the name of the district, and even more so when she arrived. “You might not believe this… but I live right across from you.”

“??!” Cheng Yixin’s eyes widened. She reflexively looked at the white villa across the street. “That one? What are the odds?!”

“It must be a very special kind of fate.”

Suddenly, Cheng Yixin was more curious about Chi Yi’s house than her own. The house she had assumed belonged to a retiree was actually Chi Yi’s.

The tour shifted locations. Chi Yi pushed open the unlocked gate to her courtyard. The garden was exquisitely designed with endless flowers and a pebbled path leading past a small pond. Cheng Yixin stopped by the pond, leaning over the railing to look at the water. Under the moonlight, she could see shadows moving beneath the surface.

“You have fish?” she asked with interest.

Seeing her curiosity, Chi Yi took a container of fish food from a nearby shelf and handed it to her. Cheng Yixin scattered a handful, and the fish scrambled to the surface, mouths agape.

“What kind of fish are these?”

“Mostly koi, goldfish, arowana, and some other ornamental species.”

Cheng Yixin gave a rather unromantic sigh. “Not a single one you can eat, huh?”

“…” A speechless look crossed Chi Yi’s face. After a moment, she replied with a hint of resignation, “If you want to eat them, you can toss a few edible ones in to raise.”

“No, that’s alright.”

After looking at the fish, they reached the front door. Chi Yi expertly unlocked it with her fingerprint. With a beep, the door opened. She turned to Cheng Yixin and suddenly said, “1223.”

“Huh?” Cheng Yixin was confused.

“1223,” Chi Yi repeated. “The digital passcode for the door.”

Cheng Yixin hadn’t intended to ask for the code, but Chi Yi had offered it freely. Surprised, she joked, “I didn’t ask. Aren’t you afraid I’ll clear out your house?”

Chi Yi smiled. “Then you might as well focus your attention on me. I’m worth much more than the things inside.”

Cheng Yixin laughed. That was probably true.

“1223… that sounds like a birthday. Is it yours?”

Chi Yi’s brow twitched imperceptibly as she gave a quiet “Mm.” She pulled a pair of disposable slippers from the back of the shoe cabinet, indicating that guests were rare here. “I didn’t expect you to come over today. Next time, I’ll prepare a comfortable pair of slippers for you.”

“It’s fine.” Cheng Yixin remembered her plan to break up; there likely wouldn’t be a next time.

The living room was minimalist yet cozy, featuring a large collection cabinet filled with fine wines. Cheng Yixin was curious about Chi Yi’s life, but she kept her gaze polite.

“Feel free to look around. I’ll get you a glass of water,” Chi Yi said, heading for the kitchen.

Cheng Yixin walked over to the cabinet. Behind the glass were rare, aged wines. Her gaze moved to a photo frame on the TV stand. It was a picture of a young couple holding a little girl—perhaps a few years old—with pretty braids. One could see Chi Yi’s features in the parents’ faces.

Hearing footsteps, Cheng Yixin turned. “Is the child in the photo you and your parents?”

“Yes.” Chi Yi handed her the water.

“Why are there only photos from when you were little?” Cheng Yixin asked casually.

“They passed away when I was eight.”

She had stepped right into a landmine.