“No, you didn’t.”
Li Mengjue never expected the problem to lie here.
“Friends who haven’t seen each other for a long time simply drifting apart… it’s a very normal thing. It’s not because you did something wrong.”
“Impossible.” Ruan Qingxiao was exceptionally stubborn on this point. “If I liked you that much, how could I go such a long time without seeing you?”
Li Mengjue: “…”
Because we weren’t actually close!
Ruan Qingxiao pointed at her phone, offering another piece of evidence. “And we haven’t ‘never’ met. We’ve run into each other at different events several times, but we barely spoke a word to each other.”
Photos, videos, and fan analyses all served to prove the fact that they were strangers. The truth was obvious—at least to anyone else.
Li Mengjue sighed and decided to be honest. “Alright, the truth is we weren’t friends at all. We’ve never even had a conversation. I just happened to find you unconscious on the side of the road…”
Ruan Qingxiao’s face turned pale. Her eyes welled up, and she looked like she was about to shatter.
“Are you even unwilling to acknowledge me as a friend now? I must have done something truly terrible.”
“…” Li Mengjue shut her mouth.
Ruan Qingxiao lowered her head, her hands clutching the bedsheets so hard they wrinkled. She looked utterly despondent, tears dripping silently onto the back of her hands.
Li Mengjue opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again.
“I’m sorry,” Ruan Qingxiao said miserably. “I can’t even remember what awful thing I did. It’s only natural that you hate me…”
Li Mengjue felt like she was the one shattering—what kind of miraculous logic leads to this conclusion?
She felt a sudden urge to call the doctor back to check the heiress’s brain one more time. But she suspected that the moment she stood up to leave, Miss Ruan would faint from the sheer grief of believing she had been cast away.
Ruan Qingxiao cried silently, not lifting her head. She gripped the blanket, trying to stop the tears, hiding her face so she wouldn’t look too pathetic. If Li Mengjue hadn’t been watching her closely, she might not even have noticed she was crying.
Li Mengjue felt her conscience twinge. She would have preferred it if the Young Miss was acting to toy with her, but she knew Ruan Qingxiao wasn’t that kind of person. She also began to understand why this amnesiac version of Ruan was so pained and anxious.
Her memory was a blank. The only person she felt she could trust treated her with cold detachment. Any initial care seemed to stem only from basic good manners. Ruan Qingxiao had convinced herself she must have done something wrong to make the person she loved so much push her away. The worst part was that she didn’t remember the “mistake,” so she didn’t even know how to begin making amends.
All her terror came from the unknown.
And the premise of all of this was that Ruan Qingxiao truly, deeply, and unconditionally loved Li Mengjue. To Li Mengjue, this premise was more unbelievable than a collision between Mars and Earth. But it was a secret confirmed by Assistant Zheng—Ruan had been her “super fan” since before her debut. Based on her behavior post-amnesia, she was more like a devoted cult follower.
For a moment, Li Mengjue thought about the “original plot.” But she quickly snapped back to the present.
“You really didn’t do anything wrong,” Li Mengjue was forced to say. “It’s just—”
As she spoke, she handed the tissues from the nightstand to Ruan Qingxiao. Ruan froze for a second before reaching out to take them. She wiped her eyes and finally looked up. Her eyes were red-rimmed and more watery than usual.
If one didn’t look closely, it was hard to tell she had been crying; her eyes just lacked their usual sharp brilliance, replaced by a misty vulnerability. Li Mengjue realized then that Ruan Qingxiao actually had a very “pity-inducing” face. It was just that her usual high-and-mighty persona acted like a suit of thorns, hiding the fragile interior.
Ruan blinked, a teardrop caught on her lashes like a butterfly on a petal. Beyond her anxiety, there was a profound focus—as if for a long time, she had been silently watching this person, waiting for a judgment.
“—You like me,” Li Mengjue said, as if suddenly realizing the gravity of it.
Ruan Qingxiao’s eyes flickered away. Even though she had thought the word “like” a thousand times, hearing it come out of Li Mengjue’s mouth made her incredibly shy. Her ears turned pink.
“Fine…” Li Mengjue muttered to herself, thinking about the upcoming drama and the months they would have to spend together.
Ruan didn’t hear the muttering; her brain was stuck on the word “like.” Looking back at Li Mengjue, she seemed to have a flash of inspiration about the “bad thing” she must have done.
“Actually, the truth is you’ve had a crush on me for a long time, and in a moment of impulse, you confessed to me,” Li Mengjue lied, drawing from the plots of youth romance dramas to create a plausible reason for their “estrangement.”
A confession was enough. A rejected confession leading to an awkward end to a friendship was perfectly logical. Adult boundaries and “saving face” should have ended the conversation right there.
But Ruan Qingxiao clearly didn’t want it to end there.
“Was it many years ago?” Ruan asked.
“Yes,” Li Mengjue replied instinctively.
A second later, she realized she had made a mistake.
Ruan followed up immediately: “Then why was I found outside your apartment complex? Yunhe said I came to City A by myself.”
Li Mengjue: “…” Good question. I’d love to know the answer too.
Ruan Qingxiao deduced the answer for herself: “I came to find you. That means I haven’t given up.”
The years of avoidance were just her trying to let go. But in the end, she realized she couldn’t. Then, a chance to collaborate appeared, and she couldn’t hold back anymore. She decided to go for broke. That’s why she came to City A alone. That’s why Li Mengjue was being so distant despite caring for her—it was the awkwardness of an unresolved romantic confession.
Ruan felt a sudden sense of clarity, and a spark of secret joy blossomed in her heart. Maybe… maybe Sister Li didn’t actually hate her. Her eyes began to light up.
Li Mengjue fell into a stunned silence—the logic was practically foolproof.
“Right, right, right,” Li Mengjue said, basically giving up. “Actually, you called me to confess again right before your accident. I don’t know what happened after that, but since it happened on my turf, I’ll take responsibility.”
“Sister Li.” Ruan Qingxiao looked like she was wagging an invisible tail, her face full of anticipation.
“Responsibility for looking after you until you’re discharged,” Li Mengjue added.
Ruan Qingxiao: “…Oh.”
The tail drooped instantly.
Li Mengjue forced herself to ignore it. Now that her spirits were somewhat restored, Ruan started staring at her again, occasionally looking away sheepishly before stealing another glance with her peripheral vision. The fear of having done something wrong had transformed into the bashful nervousness of a girl in love.
“Um…” Ruan Qingxiao spoke up hesitantly.
“…” Li Mengjue shifted her gaze. This shy, blushing Ruan was… refreshing. Setting aside the “icy bomb” of the past, this version of the heiress was like a thin-skinned young girl facing her crush.
Before her face could catch fire, Ruan Qingxiao finally asked:
“The answer… what was it?”
Li Mengjue looked confused. “What?”
Ruan Qingxiao lowered her head, her face turning even redder. “I like you, so I confessed. So… what was the answer?”
“—Did you say yes?