I Swear I Don’t Want to Be Everyone’s Favorite - Chapter 64

Ning Huan wasn’t actually very familiar with Jiang Luoyue. Her only impressions of her came from the variety show Hate Me. At first, she didn’t pay much attention to the CP pairing. Although she didn’t go along with the popular opinion that Jiang Luoyue was “unpopular but loved to ride on others’ coattails,” she didn’t have a particularly favorable impression of her either.

It wasn’t until some time ago, when Ning Huan accidentally entered Ning Fuguang’s study, that her perspective changed. She discovered that Ning Fuguang, who usually kept everything minimalistic and never bothered with meaningless decorations, had not only put up a poster of Jiang Luoyue’s drama still on the wall but had also changed her computer wallpaper to a fan-made artwork of the two of them.

Ning Huan instantly switched sides and, driven by a desire to see the drama unfold, joined the “Luoyue Fuguang” CP supertopic.

Only a very small number of people knew her true identity. The moment they heard that the two were going to celebrate Ning Huan’s birthday, they went wild.

Ning Huan had been dawdling upstairs, hesitating about whether or not to start a livestream. Little did she expect that the moment she turned it on, she would capture such a monumental scene. She was both thrilled and astonished, and then, unsurprisingly

She was doomed.

“Phone confiscated. All smart devices are limited to half an hour of use per week.”

Ning Fuguang “snatched” the phone from Ning Huan’s hand. She found a sealed bag from somewhere and, in front of the camera and Ning Huan’s utterly defeated expression, tossed the phone into it as if discarding trash.

After sealing it unhurriedly, she turned her gaze to Jiang Luoyue behind the camera.

A few minutes had passed, and Jiang Luoyue had already composed herself, at least on the surface. If not for her slightly reddened eyes, which showed signs of crying, Ning Fuguang might have thought everything that had just happened was a dream.

In the brief moment Ning Fuguang was lost in thought, Ning Huan quietly tried to defend herself. But knowing she was in the wrong, her defense only revolved around the time limit.

“Half an hour is way too short! It’s not even enough to finish one game.”

Ning Fuguang replied, “Prisoners are only allowed ten minutes of phone calls per month.”

Ning Huan: “…” All she did was start a livestream! Why was she being compared to a prisoner?

But Ning Huan knew that Ning Fuguang never went back on her word. Rather than arguing, it was better to act obediently later, and the matter would blow over.

With a sigh, the “prisoner” trudged upstairs, looking back every few steps. Only then did Ning Fuguang and Jiang Luoyue finally appear together on camera.

The moment the two appeared side by side, the screen, which had been flooded with “hahaha” comments, went silent, replaced by gasps and screams. The topic of “why did they suddenly hug?” was brought up again.

“We’re just friends.” Jiang Luoyue remained silent, seemingly struggling to find the right words, so Ning Fuguang spoke for her. “The mood was right, so we hugged. It’s perfectly normal.”

[Why don’t you say kissing when the mood is right is also normal? Go on, kiss already!]

[Ahhh, I just finished watching the replay and laughed so hard I flopped like a fish! I wonder how upset Xiang Fan and the others will be when they see this!]

[Getting upset over a hug? Isn’t that a bit too fragile?]

[Parentheses: It was Jiang Luoyue who initiated the hug. End parentheses.]

[So, if no one had interrupted just now, would they have kissed?]

The last question was buried in the sea of comments and quickly swept away, but Ning Fuguang saw it. She instinctively imagined what might have happened next but quickly dismissed the thought.

What was done was done. Thinking too much about it would only make her feel regretful and might even shorten Ning Huan’s half-hour of device time to an even more insane fifteen minutes.

This held no benefit for Ning Fuguang, so she couldn’t be bothered to do it.

A hug hardly counted as substantial evidence it wasn’t as if they had filmed a confession scene. No matter how frenzied the barrage of comments became, they would gradually settle down in a few minutes.

Ning Fuguang looked at Jiang Luoyue. “Anything else to say?”

But Jiang Luoyue didn’t speak. She was still staring at the barrage, lost in thought, her mind wandering to who knows where.

It wasn’t until Ning Fuguang took the phone from her hand and ended the live stream that she abruptly snapped out of it.

Their eyes met, and Jiang Luoyue’s gaze was filled with uncertainty. The first thing she said was,

“Am I dreaming?”

Ning Fuguang didn’t answer directly. Instead, she reached out and touched Jiang Luoyue’s forehead to check her temperature, then naturally pinched her cheek.

She had actually wanted to do this for a long time but never found the right opportunity. As she pinched, she kindly helped Jiang Luoyue recall: “No. I confessed to you earlier, and you didn’t agree. You even laughed at me.”

Truthfully, Jiang Luoyue didn’t like having her face touched, it gave her a sense of helplessness, as if she were being molded and manipulated. But Ning Fuguang pinched her cheek, then gently brushed her fingertips over Jiang Luoyue’s flushed face, the gesture shifting from playful to ambiguous. Jiang Luoyue pressed her lips together but still allowed the other’s “audacity.”

“I didn’t laugh at you,” Jiang Luoyue said. “Don’t twist my words.”

Ning Fuguang nodded. “Alright. My mistake.”

She admitted fault so quickly that Jiang Luoyue’s prepared retort instantly became useless.

Ning Fuguang finally withdrew her hand and stood up. “Let’s go.”

Jiang Luoyue suddenly couldn’t keep up. “Go where?”

“Continue our one-day couple date.” Ning Fuguang slipped her hands into her coat pockets, her posture upright and her tone relaxed, with no trace of the tension she had shown just minutes earlier when baring her heart. “Or do you want to meet my mom and settle everything in one go today? I sent her a message earlier, she won’t be back until evening at the earliest.”

Jiang Luoyue: “…”

Watching Ning Fuguang act so decisively, leaving no room for her to think, made Jiang Luoyue reflect on whether her own ability to handle things was too weak or if Ning Fuguang had somehow paused time and experienced things she hadn’t.

Otherwise, how could she explain going from talking about a confession one second to discussing their mission the next?

Jiang Luoyue didn’t understand, but she still stumbled along, following behind Ning Fuguang.

After leaving the Ning residence, she had to admit that Ning Fuguang was right.

Away from that intimate and warm environment, the chill of the wind gradually calmed Jiang Luoyue down. Memories she had deliberately or unintentionally suppressed or forgotten resurfaced, but this time, she could finally carefully analyze the words the other had once spoken.

For instance, Ning Fuguang saying she liked her.

And for instance, the two movies Ning Fuguang had mentioned.

Ever since learning that the invitation to the play had been funded and extended by Ning Fuguang, Jiang Luoyue had been distracted. For a moment, she had suspected the other was lying, but soon, countless corresponding memories thoroughly crushed that last possibility of escape.

The rejection email she had personally sent, the blurred figure she hadn’t clearly seen through tear-filled eyes, the fleeting glances that had slipped past, the suddenly greenlit variety show that persistently invited her to join.

Once or twice might have been a coincidence, but across two lifetimes, every time it unfolded the same way. Jiang Luoyue could no longer speak, only listening silently and intently to Ning Fuguang’s account.

Although Ning Fuguang was reluctant to elaborate on her efforts, those few words were enough for Jiang Luoyue to construct a vast kingdom of fantasies in her heart.

It felt like a long, magnificent dream through Ning Fuguang’s words, she glimpsed another possible life that could have belonged to “Jiang Luoyue.”

Yet, she had made the worst choices, missing each one of those possibilities. In the end, the two who should have crossed paths could only meet once at a banquet, hurried and distant.

After a long daze, Jiang Luoyue felt sorrowful.

But her sorrow wasn’t because she hadn’t received Ning Fuguang’s help or the dazzling life she could have had.

It was because she had missed and wasted so much of the love that was meant only for her.

Only when the car started did Jiang Luoyue say, “Thank you.”

Ning Fuguang didn’t ask why, nor did she respond. She simply kept her eyes on the road.

Jiang Luoyue added, “Actually, the ending of that movie isn’t as good as you imagined.”

Ning Fuguang finally glanced at her, but Jiang Luoyue suddenly fell silent. The car grew quiet, with only the wind rushing through the window, as if silently testing each other’s patience.

In the end, Ning Fuguang raised the white flag: “How bad is it?”

Jiang Luoyue smiled triumphantly, recalling vivid scenes from her memory. “The lead actor discovered on set that he was afraid of heights. He hesitated for a long time but never boarded the plane. The screenwriter had to rewrite the script last minute, the protagonist stood on the ground, watching his friends test the flight, and in a daze, he saw a younger version of himself.”

Given the technology of that era, even if they could have edited someone into the film, the result would have been clumsy and likely become a “classic joke in film history.” But Ning Fuguang had never seen any such photos over the years, which meant the movie was shot live.

Suddenly having the ending spoiled, Ning Fuguang felt a complex mix of emotions. She couldn’t tell if Jiang Luoyue was simply toying with her feelings by revealing the plot or using the ending as a metaphor.

Was Jiang Luoyue trying to say that the things the young protagonist in Ning Fuguang’s eyes had missed were actually experiences Jiang Luoyue had lived through? That her regrets were merely misunderstandings, or something else?

In the past, when Ning Fuguang couldn’t find an answer, she would calm down and ponder alone. This method had always been effective when analyzing others, but when applied to Jiang Luoyue, although the success rate was decent, there were still moments of misjudgment.

Unconsciously, she pulled over to the side of the road.

Jiang Luoyue was still scrolling through her phone. “I should have saved some stills from the movie.”

Seeing her earnest expression, Ning Fuguang called out, “Jiang Luoyue.”

Jiang Luoyue looked up.

Her eyes were no longer red. Teasing Ning Fuguang had brought a faint smile to her face, but after meeting her gaze, she grew nervous and uneasy, pressing her lips together as if determined to bite them until they swelled.

“I know what I said earlier was too rushed.” Under her gaze, Ning Fuguang gradually regained her composure and said calmly, “I’m not forcing you to give me an answer or make a choice right now. There’s no need for you to rush.”

She didn’t want to pressure Jiang Luoyue. If she had truly intended to use such methods, she might as well have told Jiang Luoyue everything from the start. Then, like in those novels, she could have illegally confined her, taken her home, and locked her away, not allowing her to leave until she gave a definite answer.

Why go through the trouble of embarrassing herself on screen, only to end up sitting together in this poorly heated car, discussing such a life-altering matter?

“If you don’t want to think carefully, then don’t. Things are fine as they are now.”

Ning Fuguang spoke earnestly, but Jiang Luoyue didn’t share that sense of urgency. Instead, she interrupted, “Ning Fuguang, thank you.”

Her words gradually slowed, her voice fading into the cold wind at some point.

Ning Fuguang watched Jiang Luoyue, waiting for the inevitable bad answer.

But what Jiang Luoyue said wasn’t a rejection it was:

“I need time to think.”

Jiang Luoyue was grateful for everything Ning Fuguang had done that was beyond doubt.

But did Jiang Luoyue like Ning Fuguang? Could she give Ning Fuguang what she wanted? Jiang Luoyue didn’t know the answer. She needed a long time to think it over.

Perhaps, in the end, she still wouldn’t have a definite answer, but at the very least, she wanted to try to no longer ignore Ning Fuguang’s affection but to seriously consider it as a pursuit.

Just thinking this made Jiang Luoyue recall Yu Jingtang.

If she had ignored the affections of Ning Fuguang and Xiang Fan because they were being cryptic and never spoke of their feelings, then her disregard for Yu Jingtang was purely intentional, born of guilt.

Thinking back, Yu Jingtang had confessed many times, yet every time, Jiang Luoyue had brushed it off with a joke, never truly responding.

She inwardly criticized Ning Fuguang and the others for their “insincerity,” but her own attitude toward Yu Jingtang was no different.

Just as Jiang Luoyue was about to sink into self-reproach and drift off into her thoughts, Ning Fuguang suddenly leaned in.

Remembering the last time, Jiang Luoyue thought she was just unbuckling the seatbelt again and didn’t react, staring blankly as the face drew closer, until a warm pair of lips touched her cheek. Only then did she snap back to reality: “You”

Before she could finish, Ning Fuguang cut her off: “Who were you thinking about?”

“Who made you so distracted while answering me?”

“Fu Yunqing? Xiang Fan? Or Yu Jingtang?”

Fingertips suddenly pinched Jiang Luoyue’s face, but this time it wasn’t a playful gesture they gripped her chin.

It wasn’t forceful; she could have easily pulled away, but Jiang Luoyue seemed dazed, staring blankly at Ning Fuguang.

Then, the other woman tilted her face and kissed her right cheek as well, squinting to observe for a few seconds before kissing her again, finally releasing her with satisfaction.

Jiang Luoyue could almost imagine her inner monologue That last kiss wasn’t symmetrical; let’s do it again.

Only after driving for ten minutes, with Jiang Luoyue in the passenger seat not moving a muscle, like a little fish resigned to its fate on the cutting board did Ning Fuguang ask with a smile, “Are you angry?”

If she hadn’t called out, it might have been fine, but now Jiang Luoyue could see three faint lipstick marks on her cheeks in the rearview mirror.

Jiang Luoyue took a deep breath, a wave of intense helplessness washing over her, finally condensing into words that were hard to define as either resentment or embarrassment: “Ning Fuguang, I hate you.”

Ning Fuguang replied with an “Mm,” as calm as ever: “I feel the opposite.”

Jiang Luoyue: “…”

She hated Ning Fuguang!