My Aloof Rival Seems to Like Me - Chapter 1

The whistling wind outside the window carried the characteristic briny dampness of seawater, making the deep blue curtains snap and flutter loudly. The chill that swept in drifted through the room, yet it did nothing to alleviate the dry heat radiating from Song Jin’s body.

The bangs on Song Jin’s forehead were dampened by a light sweat. Her dazzling blonde hair, illuminated by the moonlight, was rimmed with silver, swaying rhythmically with the movements of her body.

The delicate texture of skin under her fingers, the scent of hair lingering in the air after being warmed by body heat, the constantly accelerating heartbeat in her chest—even the slight stinging sensation from the scratching of fingernails behind her—it was all incomparably real.

It wasn’t enough; it was far from enough.

An invisible force within her body led Song Jin to lower her head slightly, seeking the thin lips of the woman who was biting down hard, unwilling to make a sound. The fragrance amplified as the distance between them closed—

Snap—

A clear snap of fingers suddenly echoed in her ear, and the ambiguity of the dream instantly receded like a tide. Song Jin, startled by the abrupt change, snapped her eyes open, her chest heaving violently with uneven breaths.

For a moment, she was disoriented by her current surroundings and couldn’t help but raise a hand to cover her eyes against the light.

Hiss, just one step away.

“What did you dream about this time?”

A familiar voice rang out directly in front of her. Song Jin glanced at the speaker through the gaps in her fingers, her voice raspy from having just woken up: “Summer night, seaside villa, sofa… she and I were using our styles from a few years ago, just finished a performance…”

Song Jin paused for a moment after speaking, then remembered something and added: “This time, I was on top.”

The other person nodded. The keyboard emitted varying “crunching snow” sounds as they typed. When the search engine faithfully popped up the relevant results, Song Jin saw Fang Xin’s brow furrow as if she were about to facepalm and laugh bitterly the next second.

“I told you, I really can dream about fanfiction of me and her,” Song Jin sighed, finally regaining her composure and propping her upper body up from the recliner.

She had explained it to Fang Xin several times early on, but the other woman had looked at her with a gaze full of “concerned care” the whole time. In a fit of frustration, Song Jin simply let Fang Xin hypnotize her to prove that everything she said was true.

“No, you really haven’t—”

“I really haven’t read this one,” Song Jin said decisively.

Are you kidding? How crazy would she have to be to go online and search for fanfiction about herself and her rival?!

Since last month, Song Jin had started fitfully dreaming about content related to her rival.

In these dreams, the two of them had different identities and styles every time, with different stories set in different eras.

The only constant was that at the end of every story, the two of them would do things that made one’s face flush and ears heat up.

Once or twice was mental pollution. Three or four times made Song Jin wonder if her desire to surpass her rival had turned into some kind of neurosis, to the point where she was even imagining “surpassing” her in her dreams.

At first, Song Jin thought she just had a run-of-the-mill delusion, until she accidentally caught her little assistant sneakily reading fanfiction of her and her rival, pushing this “accident” to a height it didn’t belong to.

She remembered it was a sunset. Song Jin, having finished a day of promotions, dragged her exhausted body into the van. Glancing up unintentionally, she caught the lewd smile of her assistant, Xiao Du, in full view.

The thought of playing a prank popped into Song Jin’s head. She crept up silently, intending to give her a fright, but with just that one glance, she saw a scene she would never forget for the rest of her life.

On the webpage, black text on a white background was neatly arranged. The author used the most delicate brushstrokes to describe the reactions of the two characters in the heat of passion.

The kissing alone took up at least three pages.

But to be fair, the author wrote very well; it felt incredibly atmospheric.

If only the characters inside didn’t share the same names as her and her rival.

And if only the content wasn’t exactly the same as what she had dreamed about the night before last.

These few paragraphs were still too advanced for Song Jin. Her mouth twitched; she opened it several times but didn’t know what to say. Du Bing also noticed her presence at this time, turning her neck inch by inch, the embarrassment on her face no less than Song Jin’s:

“That, uh… if I said it jumped out from an advertisement, would you believe me, Sis?”

Song Jin tilted her head, her eyes smiling into two slits: “What do you think?”

But she didn’t make things difficult for the girl in the end. To verify the suspicion in her heart, Song Jin even asked Du Bing to recommend a few others. Du Bing thought she also enjoyed this hobby and excitedly shared several so-called “holy grails of the fandom” with Song Jin.

She clicked through the links one by one and, sure enough, saw several pieces of content so familiar she wished she could forget them entirely.

The fact that she was dreaming about fanfiction of herself and her rival was truly too bizarre. After thinking it over, Song Jin finally decided to take the opportunity of filming in a neighboring city to talk to a psychologist she trusted.

Fang Xin turned the computer screen toward Song Jin, her surprised expression not fading in the slightest: “No, look closer. Is it really exactly the same as what you dreamed?”

Song Jin rolled her eyes at her and didn’t even look at the screen, reciting from memory: “She called me at least nine times, five of which were my full name, and twice she called me ‘Jiejie’ (Sister).”

“When you woke me up, I almost kissed her again. Before that, we had kissed four times. I used my tongue twice, and once she bit me because I didn’t control my strength.”

“And—”

“Stop! Stop right there!” Fang Xin’s face was flushed red. Song Jin had the nerve to say these details, but she didn’t have the skin to listen to them.

She took several deep breaths in a row, and finally, feeling it wasn’t enough, slapped her face with both hands to try and cool herself down.

In all her time working, this was the first time Fang Xin questioned her own professional ability.

She originally thought Song Jin was under too much pressure from work recently and was projecting things she saw during the day into her dreams. But seeing Song Jin’s adamant attitude, Fang Xin was momentarily unsure.

She switched the leg she was crossing, and after a moment of silence, asked back: “Is it possible that you actually have seen these fanfictions, but you just don’t remember?”

Song Jin gave an exaggerated “Ha!”, her apricot eyes scanning her from top to bottom: “We’ve been friends for so many years, and this is what you think of me?”

Fang Xin waved her hands helplessly and offered another solution: “How about I help you contact my mentor?”

“No way!” Song Jin almost jumped off the bed.

She had specifically come to Fang Xin because she didn’t want more people to know about this. After all, both she and Wen Yu were public figures, and their relationship was awkward. If this accidentally leaked out, she could already guess how the other’s fans would scold her.

Song Jin imagined the sharp wording and the bizarre angles the fans would use to attack her and couldn’t help but shrink her neck.

“Then I—”

Buzz— Buzz—

The tense atmosphere was instantly broken. The phone alarm she had left at the head of the bed went off. For the first time today, a ripple of emotion appeared on Song Jin’s indifferent face.

She hurriedly got out of bed and shoved her feet into her shoes. “Damn it, it’s already this late. I’ll be late if I don’t leave now. I’ll make another appointment with you next time.”

With that, Song Jin threw on the coat she had taken off when entering and prepared to fly out.

“Song Jin!”

Fang Xin suddenly called out to her.

Song Jin’s footsteps paused, and she turned back with some confusion.

“Don’t always put too much pressure on yourself,” Fang Xin pressed her brow, trying to smooth out the worry in her heart. “Take a break occasionally. No one is chasing you from behind.”

“Nonsense, there are plenty of people who want to ‘chase’ me, okay?”

Fang Xin: “…”

Was that what she meant?!

Song Jin found her half-dead expression a bit funny and stopped teasing her. “I get it, and I’ll be careful. I feel much better after dumping all this stuff I’ve been holding back onto you. Thanks for the hard work!”

After saying goodbye, she hurried away.

The van downstairs had been on standby for a long time. Almost the second Song Jin fastened her seatbelt, it took off like an unleashed dog toward the destination.

Song Jin propped her chin up, looking at the scenery outside the window. Her left hand rested naturally on the seat armrest, her fingertips tapping aimlessly on the beige aniline leather as she reflected on her recent experiences.

Why was she dreaming about these things?

Could she dream about any fanfiction as long as it existed?

And…

Would Wen Yu also dream about these things?

She was startled by the thought. She looked up and saw a white SUV through the car window.

The rear window of that car was lowered by a third. Although it had privacy film, Song Jin could still recognize those familiar eyes through the gap.

After all, the owner of those eyes had just appeared in her dream.

Suddenly, the person on the other side seemed to feel something and turned to look at her. The moment their eyes met, Song Jin’s first reaction was to duck. Only after ducking did she remember that her car also had film; the other side couldn’t possibly see her.

Her movement was a bit large, prompting her assistant to lean over: “What’s wrong?”

Song Jin instinctively turned her head to look at her, but when she turned back to look for Wen Yu, the white SUV had already merged into the traffic and disappeared.

Song Jin blinked hard and exhaled. “Nothing. I saw a ghost.”

Song Jin’s luck was good today; she hit green lights all the way and arrived at the destination right on time.

She had become an idol because she liked it, but in the last two years, she had developed an interest in acting. So, she enrolled in classes and put her whole heart into honing her skills.

After successfully completing several supporting roles, Song Jin finally landed her first lead script.

Breaking Dawn was adapted from a popular “dual female lead” novel of the same name. During its serialization, it sparked widespread discussion and became a hit due to its bizarre cases and reflections on society.

After completion, the rights were bought by the well-known director Li Hang. When news of the adaptation broke, it caused a significant stir.

Song Jin was lucky; her appearance and temperament fit one of the leads perfectly. Combined with her hard work—reading the original novel no less than five times and writing a thick stack of character notes—she successfully passed the audition.

Thinking about how she was about to elevate her career through this role, the smile on Song Jin’s face hadn’t faded—until the moment she pushed open the studio door and saw Wen Yu sitting on the sofa studying the script.

Aha, looks like I haven’t woken up yet.

Song Jin froze with a fake smile and took half a step back, slamming the studio door shut, attempting to “refresh” away the person she shouldn’t be seeing. Her assistant pushed the door back open with a confused look: “Sis, you’re being so weird today.”

Song Jin gave a dry laugh and forced herself to walk in, muttering to herself, “Why is Wen Yu here?”

The sharp-eared Du Bing happened to hear her and asked in confusion, “She’s the other female lead. Didn’t you know, Sis?”

The other female lead?

Song Jin’s brain short-circuited. That simple sentence brought a shock no less than catching the two of them in fanfiction.

She suddenly didn’t want to act anymore.

On the way to the dressing room, she inevitably had to pass Wen Yu. Song Jin originally wanted to pretend she didn’t see her, but Wen Yu actually looked up from her script and glanced at her.

Although the two were rivals online, in reality, they were essentially strangers who had only seen each other from afar at a few red carpets. If her attitude was bad and the surrounding staff spread the word…

Thinking this, Song Jin put on her professional “business smile” and extended her right hand to Wen Yu: “Hello, Miss Wen. I’ve heard so much about you. My name is Song Jin. Please look after me from now on.”

The other woman had no expression on her face; she just followed the social cue and reached out to respond.

Wen Yu’s fingers were slender and long, her nails trimmed round and showing a healthy pink.

Her hands are so cold.

That was the first thought that popped into Song Jin’s head. She didn’t know what nerve she had tripped, but she instinctively gave them a light squeeze.

Wen Yu was visibly stunned for a moment. She indifferently pulled her hand back and “bestowed” a single, laconic “Mm” upon her before going back to studying her script.

Mm…

Mm?!

She couldn’t even be bothered to pretend?

Song Jin silently pulled her hand back. Now, she really didn’t want to act anymore.

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