"Damn, did you really say that to her?" Ye Qihan was so startled he nearly drove the car into the moat. "It's fucking impossible to imagine the scene of someone like you confessing to a woman."
He was Fu Shijin! That Fu Shijin who countless socialites and ladies rushed after yet always kept respectfully at a distance!
"So what was her reaction?" His imagination ran wild, sketching scenarios. "Did she jump into your arms crying tears of joy, shouting 'I'm the MR'? Or..."
Fu Shijin sighed slightly, "Your imagination is too rich."
"What? You just let her leave like that," the voice on the other end overflowed with frustration, as if lamenting his waste of potential. "Just how long do you plan to slowly boil this frog?"
"I once sent her an email," Fu Shijin's eyes flickered with loneliness. "Right after she agreed to collaborate with me. I told her I hoped we could meet..."
"And then?" Ye Qihan couldn't wait to know what happened next.
"And then," a light, dismissive laugh came through. "She just vanished."
After a long silence, Fu Shijin sighed, "I wonder if I pushed her too hard. Perhaps she doesn't..."
Perhaps she doesn't feel about me what I feel about her. Perhaps she will never know there's a man who once liked her so deeply - absurdly and simply - based only on her voice, without ever meeting face to face.
So, this time, I can only take it slow. I can only wait, before she decides to escape again, or before I am certain I could find her even if she disappears once more.
After hanging up, Fu Shijin rested his hands behind his head on the bed, gazing at the full moon outside the window lost in thought. Remembering something, he picked up his phone and lit the screen.
Though he had assistants managing it, the upper right corner of Weibo still showed many new followers, private messages, and comments. He dismissed each of the "x" notifications beside them, then typed into the search bar: Youhao Xiangxiang.
That was the name, wasn't it? A bit strange, though.
He recalled earlier when she blushed saying she liked MR, her phone had lit up suddenly. With keen eyesight, he saw a notification pop on the screen: "Youhao Xiangxiang, you have three new private messages."
Fu Shijin clicked into the Weibo page named "Youhao Xiangxiang." Seeing the profile picture, he smiled slightly. It had to be her.
He scrolled through her posts one by one.
In the northwest corner Mei Qing Pavilion, Mei Mengran was also browsing Weibo while thinking about what the old lady had said.
"Ranran, listen to Grandmother. Once you become Mrs. Fu, why bother working so hard? You can just relax and wait to enjoy your blessings!"
Someone who was once a distant dream had suddenly appeared in reach. That kind of shock and joy was like water shattering a precious vase - every shard and every sliver of pain confirmed the reality.
The old lady was her great benefactor in life, someone who undoubtedly had her best interests at heart. Of this, Mei Mengran never doubted.
Speaking of which, they indeed had a bond. The old lady was originally betrothed to Mei Mengran's grandfather as a child, the two growing up together innocent and close. Later, she managed to join the Mei family as a maid, somehow had great luck and became the Mei family Old Master's successive wife, while the old engagement was dissolved by her father's efforts.
Mei Mengran's grandfather, having neither money nor influence, could only accept it in the end. Fatefully, he was also a passionate soul.
Mengran. Meng Ran. Dream of Zhao Ran. Zhao Ran was precisely the current Mei family old lady.
Just when everyone thought there would be no more intersection in this lifetime, the Shen family later met with misfortune. On his deathbed, the old man entrusted his orphaned granddaughter. Recalling childhood ties and the name "Meng Ran," the old lady took in this orphaned girl, who lost her father and was cruelly abandoned by her birth mother, raising her under her son Mei Qingyuan's name and cherishing her like a real granddaughter.
Thinking of this, Mei Mengran couldn't help but sob quietly.
"I must get that man!" she vowed secretly in her heart.
Then she tapped open her phone again and posted a new Weibo update.
Mei Mengran mrv: So happy sitting at home drinking tea and chatting with my male god tonight!
Soon, fans commented:
Running Little Cutesy: The couch is mine!
I Want a Cute Nickname: Does this mean meeting the parents? Congratulations to my goddess finally getting her wish!
Slight Thorniness: Haha, you psychologically dark folks better buzz off. Who cares whether he follows you? They're sweet together privately! MR goddess I love you!
Mr's Little Sweetheart: Waaah [broken heart] Even though my male god was snatched, who made you my most beloved MR? I wish our male god and goddess lifelong happiness!
Seeing the screen full of blessings aimed at her and Fu Shijin, Mei Mengran's smile deepened. She thought gleefully, "Let's see how you avoid me this time."
On the other end, Fu Shijin had just scrolled to a new post from "Youhao Xiangxiang": "Suddenly realize I still need a lot more courage to..."
He was pondering what it meant when the notification bar flooded with many , comments, and private messages. Opening them, he frowned slightly.
New messages kept sprouting like wild grass in spring. Before exiting the page, Fu Shijin swept a casual glance at the follower count: 0.
A few seconds later, the legions of followers vigilantly watching Fu Shijin's Weibo were shocked to discover his follower count had changed from 0 to 1!
Falling Ink Blooms: Oh my heavens! Am I seeing things?
Pineapple Sauce: In…my…lifetime! Crying from emotion! [crying][crying][crying]
Autumn Fishy: My male god's sole follow is named "Youhao Xiangxiang" (what the heck)
Under the Weibo post, tears flowed like a river. Some enthusiastic fans began clicking into "Youhao Xiangxiang"'s Weibo page, scrutinizing all her posts, followers, and fans from beginning to end, again and again!
So Handsome No Friends: Mother! I discovered something huge! This "Youhao Xiangxiang" actually mutually follows my queen Yu Sheng! Stunned.jpg
Hair Like Snow: Ahhhh! What kind of person is this "Youhao Xiangxiang"? I found not only did Queen follow her, even the Mei Group's official Weibo follows her too [face bewildered]
Chang'an Moonlight: Am I the only one who noticed "Youhao Xiangxiang" isn't following our male god? My male god is unrequited? So heartbreaking [broken heart]
Tang Yaoyao: Why is no one speculating this could be Mei Mengran MR's alt account? Her surname is Mei after all, perhaps Mei Group is her family's. Plus she literally just met her male god's family, the timing is just too coincidental. Never realized my goddess was also such a low-key rich second generation. Love her even more now!
The appearance of this comment sent joint fans of Fu Shijin and Mei Mengran into uncontrollable excitement. But soon, someone emerged to refute this possibility.
Uncle, We Don't Date: Based on my observation, "Youhao Xiangxiang"'s Weibo posts are all about wellness and daily life. She probably isn't an industry insider. Also, did everyone notice she posts using very ordinary Android phones, while Mei Mengran MR generally uses a 6s or iPad.
By the next morning, discussions about who "Youhao Xiangxiang" might be on Weibo were still ablaze, yet the actual subject in question remained utterly oblivious.
"Yeah!" Mei Ran sighed. "Posted a Weibo last night, but before I could check the comments, my phone ran out of battery and died."
Holding the receiver, she said, "When I woke up this morning and checked my bag, I realized I forgot my charger. What kind of luck do I have?"
Yu Sheng laughed, "You dummy, why not borrow one from someone?"
"I wanted to," Mei Ran shifted to a more comfortable position on the sofa. "But you know what? Even Zhou Shen uses the latest Apple 6s these days. What else could I do?"
Laughter came through from the other side. "Who told you not to keep up with trends? I offered to give you a Plus last time and you refused. Regret it now?"
Mei Ran: "..."
"When are you returning to A City?"
Mei Ran thought for a moment. "Booked train tickets for one PM tomorrow."
"Why not fly?"
"August is when hibiscus flowers bloom! Riding the train with flowers accompanying you all the way is so lovely!"
Yu Sheng: "I want to go with you too. Remember that Four Seasons train we rode in Canada? Miss it!" She recalled something. "I ran into that psycho again... I mean, that guy I threw a check in his face! Do you know who he is? My manager told me he's actually the CEO of Tianxing Entertainment!"
"What?" Mei Ran exclaimed, "And you two made a bet?"
"Yeah!" Yu Sheng said. "He said if I can win the championship on 'The Good Singer of China,' he won't hold our past grudges and can even grant me one reasonable request. Little punk, I'm definitely going to win!"
"Not necessarily," Mei Ran tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ears. "Based on my understanding of you, the more confident you are about something, the more it tends to backfire."
"Mei...Xiang...Xiang!" Roaring came from the other end. "Official notice: You've been blocked by me, three-day period!"
Listening to the busy tone that followed, Mei Ran was torn between laughter and tears.
She placed the receiver back, preparing to go see if anyone needed help. But as she turned, her gaze locked onto a tall, slender figure.
The man stood casually relaxed behind the sofa, his deep eyes looking at her with a faint, teasing smile.
How long had he been standing there?
Her lounging on the sofa with her legs propped up earlier... he couldn't have seen that, right?
Mei Ran immediately straightened her posture, her fair face showing faint embarrassment and traces of blush.
"Dr. Mei."
Since he knew her father personally, this form of address now seemed a bit distant.
"Just call me Mei Ran."
"Alright," Fu Shijin nodded. "Ranran."
Something rich and warm seemed to be brewing in the air, stirring every thread of Mei Ran's spirit. She looked up dazedly and saw within the depths of the man's eyes, as if entire galaxies of starlight were folded, shining brilliantly.
Summoning every ounce of effort to maintain her nearly collapsing rationality, all she could manage was a conditioned reflex to tell him, "The game room, right? I'll... take you... there."