Can't Hide My Love for You - Chapter 23

“Ha… ha,” Cheng Yixin laughed awkwardly. “When did you follow me? My phone didn’t even show a notification.”

In truth, because her interactions and new followers were so numerous, the notifications were constantly popping up; Cheng Yixin had long ago turned off those specific alerts to maintain her sanity.

“I’ve been following you for a while,” Chi Yi said. She had no intention of letting the subject drop. Feigning ignorance, she pointed at a post. “What is this ‘Yi-Men-Xin-Si’?”

“Isn’t The Legend of the Bright Moon currently airing? The company arranged for me and Yu Siyang to generate some buzz—that’s our couple name.” Cheng Yixin paused, wanting to end the topic as quickly as possible. “It’s not important. I haven’t even looked at that Super Talk. Once the show is over, the CP heat will die down anyway.”

Chi Yi let out a soft “Oh,” but said nothing more.

“Didn’t we say we were going to the supermarket?” Cheng Yixin, afraid of being interrogated further, urged, “Let’s go!”

She pulled Chi Yi out of the lounge, but a sudden thought struck her: Wait, I didn’t do anything wrong. Why am I acting so guilty?

As the elevator doors opened on a lower floor, they came face-to-face with Feng Xinlan and her secretary. It appeared they were on their way out. Facing the biggest boss of her agency—who also happened to be Chi Yi’s aunt—Cheng Yixin felt the instant dread of a lowly employee.

“Auntie,” Chi Yi greeted her warmly.

Feng Xinlan acknowledged her with a hum, then looked at Cheng Yixin. Not knowing the exact nature of their relationship, she smiled and asked, “What are you two doing here? Aren’t you going down?”

“Yes, President Feng,” Cheng Yixin replied, forcing a smile as she stepped inside. In the confined space of the elevator, she felt completely overwhelmed by President Feng’s oppressive aura, wishing she could bury her head in the sand like an ostrich.

However, President Feng seemed quite interested in her.

“Yixin, you have a new drama out, don’t you?”

“Yes, President Feng. It’s called The Legend of the Bright Moon, airing on Orange TV.”

“Mhm. I saw the episode of Happy Saturday you were on. I didn’t realize you and Yi-yi knew each other.”

Noticing Cheng Yixin’s tension, Chi Yi naturally took over the conversation. “We met at Siqi’s birthday party. It hasn’t been long.”

Feng Xinlan shifted her focus back to Chi Yi. “When are you coming home for dinner? Your grandfather has been nagging me about you.”

Chi Yi thought for a moment. “This weekend.”

President Feng immediately signaled her secretary, Siwen, to add the family dinner to Chi Yi’s schedule. Her efficiency was legendary—decisive and swift. Cheng Yixin marveled silently at her power.

When they finally exited the elevator, Cheng Yixin let out a long breath. The scent of freedom.

“Auntie is a very good person. Why were you so nervous?” Chi Yi teased her once they were safely in the car.

“Because she’s your aunt, not mine,” Cheng Yixin countered. “President Feng is exactly like my elementary school language teacher. It’s terrifying.”

“Is she really that similar?”

“I don’t mean her looks,” Cheng Yixin clarified. “It’s that aura. You know? That ‘commanding without speaking’ kind of pressure.”

Chi Yi smiled. “You’ll get used to it once you spend more time with her.”

Cheng Yixin didn’t dare respond to that. If President Feng ever found out about her relationship with her niece… the image was too much to contemplate.

The Maybach pulled into the plaza. As they walked toward the South Entrance—where the foot traffic was lighter—Chi Yi noticed Cheng Yixin wasn’t wearing a disguise.

“Aren’t you going to wear a mask?”

“I won’t bother,” Cheng Yixin replied. She figured standing next to a beauty like Chi Yi would attract eyes anyway, so a mask wouldn’t make a difference. Besides, most fans she encountered in public were respectful, only asking for a photo or taking one from afar.

She teased, “On President Chi’s turf, I shouldn’t be chased down by a mob, right?”

Chi Yi laughed. “If they chase you, just run. If you can’t run anymore, I’ll carry you on my back.”

“I think I can manage.” Cheng Yixin looked down at her black-and-white sneakers. They were newer than most of her shoes and felt very supportive. “These are comfortable. The shock absorption is good for running.”

Her gaze drifted to the exterior wall of Future City. The back entrance was even more minimalist than the front. The front at least had a giant TV screen; the back had nothing but the logo.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” she said, pointing at the wall. “Every other mall is covered in ads. Why doesn’t Future City have any?”

“Because ad space is expensive. Very few brands can afford it,” Chi Yi joked.

Cheng Yixin cupped her hand to her ear. “Let me hear just how expensive.”

“Billed by the second. More than ten times the price of other malls.”

Cheng Yixin looked shocked. It was common knowledge that ads were more expensive in high-traffic areas, but ten times the market rate? She suspected Chi Yi was pulling her leg.

“I’m kidding,” Chi Yi laughed. “I just didn’t think it was necessary. Future City focuses on the customer’s comfort. Most people don’t like looking at ads, so I’d rather use the space for something meaningful.”

While that was true, there were indeed brands willing to pay ten times the price; Chi Yi simply hadn’t accepted them.

They headed into Yixin Supermarket. It was the evening rush, filled with retirees buying groceries and parents with children. At the meat section, Yixin noticed a sign: Fresh meat does not stay overnight. 30% off after 8:00 PM.

“What do you do with the leftover meat when the store closes?” Cheng Yixin asked. She had seen similar signs in other supermarkets where plenty of meat went unsold.

“The leftovers are given to sanitation workers,” Chi Yi explained. “But usually, there isn’t much left.”

“Oh,” Cheng Yixin smiled. “I thought you’d just freeze it.”

“Why would you think that?”

“It’s labeled ‘fresh meat.’ If you freeze it overnight, you could sell it as frozen meat for a profit. That’s better than giving it away for free.”

Chi Yi was caught between laughter and tears. “You really are a clever little thing.”

“No, no,” Cheng Yixin wagged a finger. “I’m just looking at the problem from the perspective of a capitalist.”

After browsing the snacks, Cheng Yixin spotted a massive chocolate ball wrapped in gold foil, sitting on a black-and-gold stand with a beautiful bow.

“I’ve never seen a chocolate this big!” she exclaimed, picking it up. “Is it one solid ball?”

“Uh…” This stumped President Chi. “I don’t know. Let me see.”

They both held a ball, checking for information, but found nothing but the weight.

“It must be one giant piece,” Cheng Yixin said uncertainly. “But it feels too light to be solid.”

Chi Yi pondered. “There’s probably a plastic shell inside filled with small chocolates. Maybe six of them.”

“Six? This brand is expensive. I bet there are only four.”

They couldn’t agree, so they decided to buy one to find out. “I bet there are four! Definitely four,” Cheng Yixin said. “Loser pays for the chocolate.”

Outside, the chauffeur-driven Maybach had been replaced by Chi Yi’s personal Volvo. Siwen and the driver—those two “lightbulbs”—were nowhere to be seen.

Cheng Yixin pulled the chocolate from the bag. “Remind me, what was your guess?”

“Six.”

Being impatient, Cheng Yixin accidentally pulled the bow into a tight knot. Chi Yi finally reached over. “Let me.”

With long, clean fingers and perfectly manicured nails, Chi Yi patiently untied the knot and handed it back. Cheng Yixin tore away the gold foil.

The result was unexpected. It was one single, massive chocolate shell, its surface bumpy with hazelnuts.

“Oh, it is one piece,” Cheng Yixin said, surprised. “This is huge.”

“Maybe there’s something inside,” Chi Yi suggested.

They cracked it open. It was completely hollow. No filling, no smaller chocolates. Neither of them had won the bet. They looked at each other and burst into laughter. They took a bite—it was mediocre, not nearly as good as the brand’s filled chocolates.

“Not that great. A bit overpriced,” Cheng Yixin said politely.

“I agree,” Chi Yi nodded. “I’ll have it removed from the shelves.”

It was dark now, and the plaza was bustling. Chi Yi didn’t start the car immediately. “Where to now? Are you hungry?”

“Starving.” Cheng Yixin wanted to find a place to eat, but she hadn’t told her assistant, Xiao Yu, to cancel her dinner delivery. She called Xiao Yu, only to find out she hadn’t ordered anything, assuming Cheng Yixin and Chi Yi would eat together on their “date.”

“Let’s get dinner then,” Chi Yi said. “To make up for the disappointment of the chocolate ball.”

“What do you want to eat?” Cheng Yixin asked. She wanted to avoid another high-end Western place where she’d leave hungry, so she threw the choice to Chi Yi.

“How about hot pot? There’s a place nearby within walking distance.”

Cheng Yixin’s eyes lit up. She hadn’t had hot pot in ages. They found an old-fashioned hot pot restaurant with traditional Chinese decor and private booths separated by screens. The smell of the spices made Cheng Yixin feel right at home.

“I bet this place is good,” she said.

“How can you tell before tasting it?” Chi Yi asked.

“The smell. The base is aromatic; they probably fry their own spices.” Cheng Yixin paused. “My family owns a hot pot restaurant. My earliest memories are of my dad frying the base in the yard. You could smell it from miles away. Most places use pre-made bases now.”

“I’ve seen documentaries on it,” Chi Yi said. “It’s hard work. But handmade bases are much more refined than factory ones.”

“Exactly!” Cheng Yixin’s talkative side took over. “And the base has to sit for over ten hours before use. My dad has to fry a new batch every other day. He has back problems now from all the bending.”

She continued, “I told them to retire and rest now that I’m working, but they won’t listen. They say it’s boring to do nothing, and they’re so close with the neighbors who eat there.”

Chi Yi smiled. “If I were a regular there, I’d want a restaurant that good to stay open forever, too.”

When the pot arrived, they had a split “Yuan Yang” style—tomato broth for Chi Yi and a spicy red oil broth for Cheng Yixin. As they ate, Cheng Yixin shared more stories about her childhood, her parents, and their stray dog named “Dahuang.” She was radiant while talking about her family.

“You really grew up surrounded by love,” Chi Yi said softly.

Cheng Yixin froze. She suddenly remembered that Chi Yi’s parents were gone. She felt like she was flaunting her happiness without considering the other’s feelings. Her smile faltered. “…Not really.”

“Did I say something wrong?” Chi Yi noticed the shift immediately.

“No. I just…” Cheng Yixin hesitated. “Do you actually want to hear this? Sometimes I get carried away.”

“I want to hear it,” Chi Yi insisted. “I’m happy you’re sharing your story with me. It makes me feel closer to you.”

“Are you just humoring me?”

Chi Yi put down her chopsticks and looked at her seriously. “After my parents passed, I lived with my grandparents. My uncle, aunt, and their families treated me very well. I want our conversations to be relaxed. You don’t need to walk on eggshells.”

Cheng Yixin felt a weight lift from her chest. “You really are… very mature.”

Chi Yi tilted her head. “Am I getting closer to Professor Cheng’s ‘ideal type’?”

Cheng Yixin smirked. “Didn’t President Chi say one shouldn’t use an ‘ideal type’ as a reference for dating?”

“Oh, right~” They shared a laugh.

By the time they finished, it was 8:00 PM. As they walked back to the car, Cheng Yixin realized why Chi Yi had only planned one activity. A movie would have rushed their dinner. This way, they could take their time.

“Your next movie invite won’t be in the afternoon again, will it?” Cheng Yixin asked.

“Professor Cheng is very smart.”

“But I won’t have time in the afternoons lately. Director Chen Sheng gave me an audition opportunity, and my manager wants me to prepare.”

“It’s okay. I can wait.”

On the ride home, Cheng Yixin opened Weibo to check the news. In her Super Talk, she found photos of her and Chi Yi at the supermarket, taken by passersby. They looked very natural together.

However, a “CP fan” had reposted the photos to the “Yixin Yiyi” Super Talk, tagging them both. [@YixinYiyi_Forever: AHHH! Look how well they match! Black and white couple outfits!! I’m dying!!]

Cheng Yixin clicked on Chi Yi’s profile. Her follower count had grown slightly. Her top post—a repost about a charity foundation from months ago—now had over a hundred comments.

Cheng Yixin’s brow furrowed. She clicked on the comments, and her blood began to boil.

[@BraindeadFan1: Brother Huang has a hand injury, he shouldn’t have been carrying anyone anyway. If the show made him do it and they fell, how is that his fault? Who do you think you are?] [@LiHuangFanClub: Our Huang-ge is so hardworking, does he deserve to be scolded just because he has a good temper? You’re sick!] [@HopelessX: Doing charity? Probably doing it to ease a guilty conscience from all the bad things she does in private. Laughable.] [@SelfRighteousStan: Stay locked away with that plastic surgery addict Cheng Yixin. Stay away from our A-Huang!]

The comments were vile. Cheng Yixin checked Li Huang’s Weibo and saw his latest post: [@LiHuang: Thank you for the concern. Regarding the incident, it was my fault for falling while carrying Yixin. Miss Chi was only acting out of concern for Yixin. I will work harder on my fitness! Thank you, Miss Chi, for the kind reminder~]

He had attached the “leaked” video of Chi Yi calling him a “puny weakling.” Despite his polite words, it was clearly meant to trigger his fans to attack her.

“Why the long face?” Chi Yi asked, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. “Did you see something upsetting?”

Cheng Yixin flipped her phone over. “Nothing.” She realized Chi Yi likely didn’t know about the online storm. “Don’t look at Weibo tonight.”

“Why?”

“Don’t ask questions,” Cheng Yixin said firmly. “Just promise me.”

“Okay.”

As soon as she got home and closed the door, Cheng Yixin called her manager, Li Wenjing.

“Sister!” she shouted as soon as it connected. “I need to tell you something. When Chi Yi came to my recording, she had a run-in with Li Huang. He’s targeting her online now. I need the PR team to handle this.”

“You’re involved?!” Li Wenjing yelled.

“Not yet. But Li Huang is sending his fans to harass Chi Yi.”

Li Wenjing’s voice cooled. “Yixin, listen to me. Our PR team is here to serve you. We don’t have extra resources for outsiders. It’s expensive and time-consuming…” (She didn’t get to finish her thought—that Chi Yi’s background meant she didn’t need their help anyway.)

Cheng Yixin interrupted her, her tone fierce and protective. “Is he only bullying her because her Weibo has no fans? If you don’t help, I’ll repost it myself. I’ll let my ninety million followers tear him apart!”

Li Wenjing: “…………”