My Aloof Rival Seems to Like Me - Chapter 6

The aftermath of the situation was Song Jin herself spending a long time explaining things to people.

She didn’t know what Wen Yu was thinking; it was as if her mouth was sealed shut, unable to even squeeze out a fart. She didn’t seem to care about her own reputation at all and didn’t know how to come over and help. In the end, the two of them finished the shoot under the subtle gazes of the crowd.

After finishing her scenes, Song Jin wasn’t in a hurry to leave. She waited until everyone had cleared out before daring to run over and chat with Li Hang—most people in the crew didn’t know about their relationship.

Moreover, both of them were usually busy with work. If it weren’t for this collaboration opportunity, who knows how much longer they would have had to wait to meet.

Li Hang stood at the table packing her bag. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Song Jin scurrying toward her. She praised: “You performed well tonight; that grappling set just now was cool as hell!”

“Of course, look who I am,” Song Jin said cockily, not mentioning at all that she had practiced that set of movements for over a week.

After confirming that nothing was missing, Li Hang pulled the zipper shut and slung the silver leather bag over her shoulder. She tilted her head slightly, signaling Song Jin to follow her: “Wanna get together at my place tonight? While we’re at it, tell me about you and Wen Yu.”

“Huh? What’s there to talk about?” Hearing that name, Song Jin’s gaze flickered away, clearly not wanting to bring it up.

Li Hang rolled her eyes at her: “There’s plenty to talk about. Yesterday you said you hated her, today you’re all pressed up against her, tsk tsk tsk—”

“I never said that, don’t you go framing me.”

Song Jin gave her arm a light swat, which was promptly swatted away by the other: “Close enough. Anyway, it sounded like you were avoiding the plague, but looking at it today, the relationship between you two isn’t that stiff.”

It was even a bit ambiguous.

Song Jin thought for a moment and forced out a smile: “This… is hard to explain.”

Li Hang’s home was in the suburbs, a new house bought before the New Year; she had moved in less than two weeks ago. Before setting off, she bundled Song Jin up tightly from head to toe before daring to stuff her into the passenger seat.

The blue Mini was like a walking gas cylinder, weaving through the traffic all the way to the destination.

The moment the two arrived home, Li Hang tossed her bag aside and scurried to the counter to pick out a bottle of vodka.

“Yo, Director Li isn’t afraid of getting drunk and messing up business?” Song Jin raised an eyebrow, though her actions were honest; after washing her hands, she went over to help her mix the drinks.

“Please, with our tolerance, no matter how much we drink, it won’t mess anything up,” Li Hang laughed. She took other ingredients out of the fridge and handed them to Song Jin, then spread her hands, standing to the side to watch Song Jin’s performance.

When Song Jin had nothing to do, she liked to have a drink. Later, she even went to learn bartending; her movements were so skillful that if she retired from the industry, she could easily transition into a bartender position.

She first took off the plain rings on her index and middle fingers and placed them aside, then rolled her sleeves up to her elbows, revealing forearms with smooth muscle lines. Her well-defined fingers gripped the English shaker, shaking it up and down with such speed that only afterimages could be seen.

Li Hang glanced at Song Jin’s hands, then looked down at her own primary-schooler fingers, letting out a sigh of indignant frustration.

“Why does my dear subject frown?” Song Jin spared a moment to talk to her.

“Your Majesty, can you share a segment of your fingers with me?” Li Hang’s gaze was blank, having lost all strength and means. “I’m truly fed up. Why didn’t God look carefully at the attributes before distributing fingers?! Why didn’t He give them to someone in need?!”

Li Hang liked girls, but she had only told Song Jin besides people in the circle; she kept it strictly hidden from other friends and relatives.

Song Jin chuckled: “How do you know I don’t need them?”

“You don’t even look for a partner; it’s simply a waste of natural resources!”

“Please, I’m a celebrity. It’s already hard enough to build a career; where would I have the time for all this love and romance stuff? Besides, haven’t I just not met anyone suitable?”

“How do you know if someone is suitable if you don’t interact with them?” Li Hang leaned her head toward Song Jin, squinting at her. “The ones I recommended during the last party—you didn’t like a single one of them.”

Song Jin’s movement of mashing the lime paused. She frowned as she recalled: “Are you talking about the one who blew smoke rings in my face? Or the one who wanted to snatch the Pocky out of my mouth?”

Li Hang stumbled, the expression on her face becoming a bit strained: “What do you mean blowing smoke rings?! That was a smoke kiss! That’s flirting, okay?! And I can’t even be bothered to talk about that broken Pocky of yours—how can a person be so protective of their food?”

“Don’t. That one puff almost triggered my rhinitis. And what’s wrong with me loving biscuit sticks? It’s such a great invention.”

What’s more, she was someone who valued looks. Although the friends Li Hang brought along were quite good-looking, Song Jin, who had been in the circle for a long time, hadn’t she seen all kinds of great beauties? After some comparison, she was even less interested in those people.

Song Jin shook her head helplessly, poured the liquid from the shaker into a chilled glass, and added fresh mint leaves for garnish. Mission accomplished.

“So, you and that Wen Yu…”

“Shhh—” Song Jin narrowed her eyes, cutting off Li Hang’s words. “Just drink your liquor.”

“Are you two really okay?” Li Hang took the glass, her eyes darting up and down. “I was originally worried you wouldn’t get along, but turns out you’re quite on track. Before I even said anything about ‘selling the yuri’ (marketing a lesbian ship), you’ve already stuck yourself to the predecessor.”

“Selling yuri?” Song Jin looked down at her, somewhat confused.

Li Hang nodded as if it were only natural: “Yeah. Relying solely on the popularity of the original work isn’t enough for promotion. If you two don’t play up a CP (couple), what am I supposed to sell?”

Hearing this, Song Jin’s frown deepened: “Have you mentioned this to her yet?”

“I have, and she even agreed,” Li Hang said.

Song Jin drank her liquor gloomily: “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

“It’s pretty early right now; it’s only the second day of work.” Li Hang leaned in and bumped her shoulder. “Sell it well. Whether I can make a fortune or not depends entirely on you two.”

Song Jin didn’t speak. She took one sip of the drink after another, finally suppressing the inexplicably rising irritability.

The drink soon hit the bottom. She tilted her neck and finished it clean, then slammed the glass down. The crisp sound of glass hitting glass pulled Li Hang’s attention back.

“Can we… not sell it?”

“Why?” Li Hang was a bit puzzled.

“It’s very awkward.”

“What’s there to be awkward about?” Li Hang looked at her strangely. “Two straight girls standing together, holding hands, and having a meal. I haven’t even asked you to kiss. Just being in the same frame can raise the heat while standing still—why wouldn’t you want that?”

“I…” Song Jin swallowed. She wanted to tell her about her experiences over the last few days, but she was afraid the other would take her for a lunatic. However, faced with Li Hang’s questioning, she couldn’t give a reasonable explanation. After hesitating for a long time, she finally said with a look of extreme discomfort: “You might not believe me if I say it…”

“Just say it. Even if you say you dated Wen Yu and broke up, I’ll believe you.” Li Hang clearly hadn’t realized the severity of the problem; the smile on her face was so silly it could blow bubbles.

Seeing that her good friend trusted her so much, Song Jin let go of her reservations and said seriously: “Recently, I keep dreaming about fanfiction of me and her.”

“?”

She saw a gold-bordered question mark pop up over Li Hang’s head.

“What kind of fanfiction?”

“Is it the kind of fanfiction I’m thinking of?”

“Is it the kind of inverted-mirror fanfiction?”

“Is it the kind of fanfiction from those websites that support English-Chinese translation, have piles of tags, start with an ‘OOC apology,’ and where I used to love importing .txt files into my MP4 during school?”

Li Hang realized it suddenly, her mouth hanging open like she was about to drink O-Pa fruit milk: “No wonder your face was as red as if you’d drunk fake liquor that day—it turns out you really were shy?!”

As Li Hang spoke, she leaned closer to Song Jin, her eyes widening even more. She stared intently at the expression on Song Jin’s face, trying to find a flaw, but the other was truly sincere; her gaze was so firm that she seemed to be telling nothing but the truth.

Li Hang took half a step back and clicked her tongue in evaluation: “Thoughts by day, dreams by night. You actually want to do it with her, don’t you?”

“No, I’m not that perverted.”

“Then you want to have a love-hate relationship with her!”

“…Is there anything else in your brain?” Song Jin shrunk her neck and said decisively, “Let’s put it this way: normal interaction and working together on set is fine, but outside the scenes, whenever I get too close to her, I always think of the dream content… So, as for selling yuri, just forget it. I would literally die of awkwardness.”

This time, it was Li Hang who stopped speaking.

A lonely expression appeared on her face, and she took a sip of liquor with her head down. Just when Song Jin thought she had accidentally swallowed a “muting pill,” she finally said slowly: “Think about it again…”

“I really can’t.”

“Don’t do this—if we’re missing the CP-marketing link, the subsequent plans will all be thrown into chaos. I don’t want to have to rearrange everything, ahhh—”

Looking at her friend’s collapsing, pathetic state, Song Jin let out a “tsk” and said impatiently: “Fine, fine, fine—but let’s get this straight, I can’t guarantee how the subsequent effects will turn out.”

“Deal!” Li Hang chuckled.

The head felt heavy, but the body was soft and limp, unable to muster any strength. In a daze, Song Jin vaguely realized she had entered the dreamscape again. Concentrating all her strength into her facial muscles, she tried hard to open her eyes and managed to open a slit.

Everything after that became logical and smooth; the eyelids that were pried open were like a box with the lock removed, opening naturally once the constraints were gone. Song Jin wasn’t in a hurry to survey her surroundings; instead, she tried moving her arms. As expected, she could move.

She looked down at her attire: a bright yellow round-collar robe with a black-and-gold belt tied around it, and two matching leather bracers bound to her forearms. Reaching for the back of her head, she indeed felt a high ponytail tied up, and the volume of hair felt quite substantial.

Song Jin looked at the peach forest around her while stretching her muscles, her brain also spinning rapidly without rest.

What is it today? An emperor on a secret inspection? Or filming?

Before she could reach a conclusion, she faintly heard the whistling sound of something cutting through the air, seemingly not far from her.

Relying on her intuition, Song Jin walked toward the source of the sound. Finally, after passing several peach trees, she pushed aside the peach branches blocking her view and saw a figure wielding a sword under a tree.

Cleaving, parrying, hooking, stabbing, blocking—Wen Yu’s movements were beautiful and sharp. With blossoms falling in profusion, she stepped upon the peach petals scattered across the ground, dancing with the long sword in her hand. Her red hemline fluttered with her movements, and the wind she generated lifted the peach-red petals from the ground only to let them fall again.

Song Jin watched, somewhat mesmerized.

The reason was simple: Song Jin had played a swordsman before, but no matter how she posed with the sword, it never felt right. It looked fluid enough, but it lacked a sense of power; it had a kind of limp, listless quality.

In short, it didn’t look real.

But the state “Wen Yu” was in now was exactly what she had pursued back then.

Song Jin stood in place and watched for a while longer. The more she watched, the more bitter she felt:

Why is Wen Yu so powerful even in dreams?

Why didn’t anyone write an OP setting for her?

If she stole the techniques now, would she still remember them when she woke up tomorrow morning?

As her thoughts drifted further and further, Song Jin spaced out for a good while. When she came back to her senses, Wen Yu had already danced her way right in front of her.

Seeing the long sword swinging toward her with the force of breaking the air, Song Jin’s pupils dilated sharply, and she instinctively wanted to dodge backward. But that sharp sword, glinting with a cold light, gave her no chance to escape at all. Just when she thought she was about to be slashed to death by Wen Yu—

Wen Yu turned the blade, deftly flicking down a branch bearing flower buds. The branch rested steadily across the tip of the sword, held out before Song Jin’s eyes.

Song Jin looked up at her, somewhat confused.

She saw a faint smile blossom on Wen Yu’s face, her voice clear and gentle: “Jiangnan has nothing to offer but this; I send you a branch of spring. Senior Sister, we meet again.”

Oh, quite cultured.

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