Can I choose not to answer?”
Qiao Mengdi picked up her phone, stunned by the sheer volume of new messages and missed calls.
A few days ago, while preparing for the engagement banquet, Lin Lifeng had repeatedly confirmed with her before booking the hotel: “Are you really not inviting a single friend?”
“No,” she had replied curtly.
“Why are you still acting out at a time like this? People live for their reputation. If you don’t invite your friends, do you even plan on seeing them again? As someone who’s been there, let me give you a piece of advice: a person can’t live without friends. Managing relationships is a huge part of life! For something like an engagement, you should invite your best friends so everyone can celebrate together.”
“Do you think I’m happy?”
The original owner’s friends hadn’t attended the engagement banquet. Seeing this sudden influx of calls and messages, Qiao Mengdi figured there was only one possibility: the invited reporters had published their pieces, and the world now knew she was engaged.
However, upon opening WeChat, she realized everyone was talking about something else: the incident at the Jinlu Hotel rooftop where Yi Hongzhou caught her as she fainted.
What! Top of the trending charts? Even this?!
Well, it made sense. Yi Hongzhou was, after all, a top-tier superstar.
So much had happened today that she had completely forgotten about that particular incident. The shocks just kept coming, one after another.
It took her two or three hours to process the messages and the chaos unfolding on Weibo.
While many people were attacking her, the situation hadn’t devolved into full-blown cyberbullying, largely because Yi Hongzhou had stepped in quickly to shift the narrative. Still, his Weibo post made her feel uneasy.
Watching the videos circulating online, Qiao Mengdi noticed that her faint looked quite “natural.” Her silhouette was even prettier than she’d imagined; she really did suit bold, vibrant colors.
After scrolling through comments for a while, she lost patience. She ignored every single private message on Weibo—including those from the original owner’s friends—let alone the strangers. To avoid further disturbance, she simply disabled her private messaging feature.
Returning to her homepage, she noticed her follower count had exploded to over 250,000 in just one afternoon. If she remembered correctly, it had been barely over 10,000 a few days ago. The “Power of the Top Tier” was truly terrifying.
In her past life, Qiao Mengdi might have been thrilled. But things were different now. She was genuinely worried Yi Hongzhou was making a move on her; his repost was a clear sign he had begun his “operation.”
“The unexpected incident today caused everyone worry. My apologies.”
She posted this to her Moments with a bowing emoji, then shared the same message on Weibo.
The comments on her Moments exploded instantly. People asked why she’d disappeared, why she wasn’t answering calls, and some sharp-eyed individuals asked about the ring on her left hand…
Annoyed, Qiao Mengdi pulled out a photo she had taken on the rooftop of the Jinlu Hotel. At the time, Yao Chiyue had held her hand out in the sunlight, and Qiao Mengdi had snapped a few photos. She had expected Yao Chiyue to stop her, but surprisingly, she had been quite cooperative.
Picking the best angle, she posted again before the news could break elsewhere: “Got engaged today. Been too busy preparing for this to keep in touch. Sorry, everyone.”
After posting, she remembered the laundry in the washing machine and tossed her phone aside.
By the time she finished hanging up the old lady’s clothes and returned to her phone, there was another mountain of messages and a dozen missed calls. She ignored them all.
The likes and comments on her engagement post were already several pages long. It seemed the original owner had been quite popular. Everyone noticed her partner was a woman, but no one seemed shocked; same-sex marriage had been legal for a long time.
Qiao Mengdi remained indifferent to the blessings—until she saw that Yao Chiyue had liked the post.
She stared at it for a long time. So even a busy CEO scrolls through Moments?
Exhausted, she removed her makeup and took a shower. It wasn’t even 9:00 PM, but she was already in bed.
The day’s events replayed in her mind. Throughout the day—aside from a flash of irritation before meeting Yi Hongzhou—Yao Chiyue had been graceful, elegant, and practically perfect. Seeing her so composed, Qiao Mengdi couldn’t help but feel that after marriage, Yao Chiyue would likely play the role of a “perfect partner,” treating her with polite respect.
But that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted love. She hadn’t truly loved anyone yet, nor had she been deeply loved. She wanted to experience that.
She stared blankly at the ceiling.
Later, she checked Weibo again. Her followers had surpassed 250,000. The original owner used to share daily life snippets and had recently finished a serialized picture book story. Qiao Mengdi found the story interesting—a girl traveling with a black cat, meeting various people and hearing their stories. The art style was warm and the story healing.
Some fans in the comments were already asking when the next book would start. Interestingly, the novel hadn’t mentioned the original owner’s Weibo.
As it happened, Qiao Mengdi also loved creating picture books. Before her transmigration, she had been working toward becoming a professional illustrator. Since she wasn’t skilled at much else, she decided she would pursue this path again after the wedding if she had the time.
With that resolution, drowsiness finally took over. Despite sleeping during the day, she was still drained from the stress of the engagement.
Then, Qiao Mengyang called.
“Why are you back at the old lady’s house?” he asked. “Did Dad ask you to pick me up again?” “No. I have something to ask you.” “Go ahead, I’m listening.” “Have you… fallen for that older sister?”
Qiao Mengdi froze. “Is that important? Can I choose not to answer?” “You don’t need to say anything more,” Qiao Mengyang replied.
Click.
Is it that obvious? she wondered. If my brother can see it, Yao Chiyue probably knows too.
Fine. Let her know. So what if I like her? It’s not a crime.
Sorry, “Original Owner,” she thought. I didn’t mean to slap your face like this.
Someone like Yao Chiyue was hard for anyone to resist, let alone someone like her who was already attracted to women. But the more she tried to comfort herself, the more annoyed she felt. Having a crush on someone who didn’t like you back felt foolish once it was pointed out by others.
If Yao Chiyue knows, what will she do? Especially since Yi Hongzhou is trying to compete for me… what will she do then?
“Ugh, this is so frustrating!” she groaned. “One is a super beauty, the other is a top-tier star, and they’re going to fight over me!”
The sheer absurdity of the thought made her brain feel scrambled, yet it eased the pressure of the day.
Just then, another call came in. Expecting another friend, she looked at the screen. It was Yao Chiyue.
But the phone only rang twice before cutting off.
Did she press it by mistake? Qiao Mengdi wondered. Should I call back? What would I even say? Asking if she misdialed seems awkward.
She could ask if something was wrong, or about the meeting with Sister Weiwei, or—if she was feeling bold—ask what she thought of the photo in her Moments. There were plenty of excuses.
But she just sat there, staring at the missed call notification.
I want to call back. I definitely cannot call back.
“Damn this pride,” she muttered. She found herself making a bet with herself: would Yao Chiyue call again?
Logic: Wake up! Emotion: No way!