Chapter 9: Where Else Do You Want to Look?

“Holy shit.”

She’d only said it casually, so why had he actually sent it?!

Wei Qingxuan had always taken her words seriously.

So seriously that someone as rigid as him would break his own rules for her again and again.

The phone screen was still lit.

Unaware, Wen Qi swallowed.

Since when had Wei Qingxuan… gotten that kind of body?

Remembering she was still live-streaming, Wen Qi hurried to lock the screen and suppress her wandering thoughts.

But her hand slipped.

The phone clattered to the floor beneath the desk, screen still glowing.

The livestream instantly exploded.

[77, what happened?!]

[What fell?]

[Did 77 see something scary?!]

****

Flustered, she bent down to grab it, her head spinning, all she could see still that fleeting glimpse of sharp lines and defined muscle.

By the time she picked it up, the screen had gone dark.

She forced a dry laugh at the camera.

“I-It’s nothing. My hand slipped. Let’s continue… where were we?”

Her heart pounded erratically.

She couldn’t calm down.

She grabbed the water cup on the desk and gulped twice.

The icy water slid down her throat, finally pressing down some of the heat.

Yet her peripheral vision kept drifting toward the phone lying on the table.

On that black screen, it was as if Wei Qingxuan’s silhouette still lingered.

Wei Qingxuan must be crazy.

She cursed inwardly.

…Well, maybe she was a little crazy too.

She couldn’t think about it anymore.

Resolutely, she decided to shove the phone into her pocket.

She cleared her throat and reached to set the cup down.

But before it fully touched the table, her elbow knocked the microphone beside her with a dull thud.

The cup’s base hit the table edge.

Before she could react, the cup tipped over with a splash.

Water poured directly onto the phone.

“Damn.”

Wen Qi let out a low cry and, forgetting the livestream entirely, scrambled to grab it.

Cold water soaked through the case.

She wiped frantically at the screen, her fingers slipping across the wet surface.

The screen lit up.

Prominently displayed were the words: “Wei Qingxuan” and “Answer.”

Almost simultaneously, a low, clear voice came through the speaker.

His tone was calm.

What he said made her heart seize.

“I don’t have experience taking photos like this. Why didn’t you reply to my message? Is it because… I didn’t let you see it in person?”

‘Wei Qingxuan, what are you saying?!’

She wanted to scream at him.

But the livestream was still on.

Her temples throbbed.

She forced herself to stay composed.

“You! I’m hanging up.”

She ended the call immediately, terrified he’d say something even more outrageous the next second.

Wen Qi took a deep breath.

Only after bracing herself did she dare look back at the livestream interface.

Clearly, she hadn’t braced enough.

The chat had ignited like a barrel of gunpowder.

It was even more frantic than before, comments flooding the screen.

[See it in person?! What kind of wolf-tiger words are those?!]¹

[A man’s voice! 77, be honest, is that your boyfriend?!]

[That voice is so deep and sexy. Face reveal please!]

[I knew something was up. No way 77 would’ve reacted like that otherwise.]

[77, your breathing is unstable.]

****

Wen Qi held her dripping phone, hating for the first time that her microphone had such excellent pickup.

The livestream was practically building her a boyfriend profile in real time.

She wanted to drag Wei Qingxuan over and beat him up.

But thinking about it again, he hadn’t actually done anything wrong.

And Wen Qi had never been one to blame herself.

After circling through her thoughts, she found no one left to fault.

To maintain what little composure she had left, she could only offer a stiff explanation to the screen.

“It’s not what you think.”

“Just a friend. He likes joking around.”

Clearly, it was useless.

The chat scrolled even faster.

By the end of the stream, the teasing filled the entire screen.

Even Wen Qi was nearly brainwashed into believing she had a mysterious boyfriend with a dangerously sexy voice.

She almost couldn’t hold it together.

“Alright, um… that’s it for today. See you next time.”

After showering and letting out a long breath, Wen Qi lay in bed, feeling like the entire day had been surreal.

She suddenly remembered she hadn’t replied to Wei Qingxuan.

Quietly, she opened their chat window, saved the photo, then decisively turned off her phone and went to sleep.

****

The billiards hall ran smoothly.

Wei Qingxuan only needed to check in occasionally.

But because of someone, he’d been going far more often lately.

In the garage, Wei Qingxuan sat astride his motorcycle, casually placing his helmet on the back seat.

His gaze drifted toward the entrance, then quickly away.

Wen Qi walked over yawning, picked up the helmet, put it on, and naturally climbed onto the back seat, grabbing the hem of his black T-shirt.

“Let’s go.”

In the rearview mirror, her indifferent expression reflected back at him.

Wei Qingxuan’s Adam’s apple rolled.

Yesterday, in this very spot, she had said she wanted to see his body.

With his rigid temperament, he had never done something like that before.

His clothes were always neat and proper, let alone showing off his physique in front of someone.

But the words had come from Wen Qi.

And they had shaken him deeply.

If it had been anyone else, he could’ve refused sternly and shot them a look that said “wishful thinking.”

But it was Wen Qi.

And he hesitated.

Wen Qi liked handsome boys with good figures.

He knew that better than anyone.

In middle school, they had been in the same class.

Wen Qi had always been the center of attention.

Plenty of boys had liked her.

Wei Qingxuan had spent most of his time by her side.

When love letters reached her hands, he would always hear her laugh and say,

“Oh, I remember him. He’s on the school basketball team. Pretty good-looking. Didn’t expect his handwriting to be nice too.”

That smile had been blinding.

Those compliments piercing.

Because Wen Qi rarely praised him.

Yet a single love letter from someone else could earn her praise.

If he could, Wei Qingxuan would write a book as thick as a dictionary and place it in front of her, just to wait for her compliment.

But most likely, the moment she realized it was a love letter, she wouldn’t even read it.

She’d probably ask,

“Hey, are you crazy?”

He could imagine that scenario because of something that had happened at the start of middle school.

As adolescence bloomed, curiosity about romance spread through the class.

Since Wen Qi and Wei Qingxuan went to and from school together every day, rumors quickly circulated.

When Wen Qi heard them, she grabbed the corner of his school uniform jacket in an alley after school.

She didn’t pull hard, because she knew he would stop.

“Hey, do you like me?” she asked, staring at him.

“Answer seriously.”

Her crisp voice left him dazed.

“I…”

He had wanted to admit it.

But when he saw her slightly furrowed brow, he changed his answer.

“No. I don’t.”

More than liking her or not, he just wanted to stay by her side.

At his answer, her brows immediately relaxed.

Her eyes curved like crescents, relief flashing across her face.

She patted his shoulder.

“See? They’re just spreading nonsense.”

Wei Qingxuan nodded stiffly.

“Mm.”

Recently, though, she had praised his face.

He couldn’t tell how much of it was sincere.

She loved joking, saying outrageous things.

And she was fickle.

It troubled him.

But he was also addicted to it.

That unpredictable quality about her, never knowing her next move, easily captivated him.

A month after the love letter incident, Wen Qi went to watch him play basketball.

But her gaze stayed fixed on the opposing team.

He noticed the boy who had written her the letter was on that team.

On the court, Wei Qingxuan played so aggressively that the guy was left gasping for air.

Someone from the other team muttered,

“What’s with him today? Playing like he’s insane.”

When he returned to Wen Qi, her eyes were still on the opposing side.

He probed carefully.

“You like him that much?”

“Who?” she asked.

He pointed to the breathless boy.

“Him. You said he was handsome. Said his handwriting was nice.”

Wen Qi had long forgotten.

“Did I?”

Watching how the boy had been overwhelmed by Wei Qingxuan’s relentless style, she frowned.

“Maybe I misjudged. If you hadn’t mentioned it, I’d have forgotten he existed.”

Wei Qingxuan pressed his lips together.

Her forgetting didn’t make him happy.

Her praise was always fleeting.

It could vanish as easily as smoke.

Yet even with all her fickleness, she had consistently not liked him.

That made him even less happy.

“Then who were you looking at?” he asked.

“Their team captain,” Wen Qi replied.

“He’s pretty eye-catching. I think he has abs. When he lifted his shirt to wipe sweat just now-”

He couldn’t listen anymore.

He stood, covered her eyes, and pulled her away from the court, offering a convenient excuse.

“Let’s go. If we’re late, Aunt Li will worry about you.”

She seemed to like good bodies.

But she had never asked to see his.

Yesterday had been the first time.

But mostly because she wanted him to stop controlling who she looked at.

She had been certain he wouldn’t actually show her.

After all, whenever she so much as brushed against him, he would blush and quickly step away, rigidly telling her not to get too close.

Yet he had sent it.

After taking hundreds of photos, he had picked one he thought looked decent and sent it.

As for why it was decent…

Probably because he guessed she might prefer that kind.

But she hadn’t replied last night.

She’d hung up quickly.

And this morning, when she saw him, she’d still acted perfectly calm.

Had the photo not sent?

Or had she not seen it?

If she had seen it, how could she so naturally grab his shirt, speaking as casually as if discussing the weather?

Or… did she simply not like it?

His gaze darkened.

“What kind do you like?” he asked.

Wen Qi was half-asleep.

She’d gone to bed late.

Caught off guard, she replied,

“What do you mean, what kind?”

Wei Qingxuan pressed his lips together.

After a moment, he decided to ask something else first.

“Why didn’t you reply to my message yesterday? You hung up on my call too.”

Despite her drowsiness, the moment he mentioned it, her irritation from last night surged back.

“You’ve got the nerve to bring that up. Do you even know it was all because of you-”

That morning, when she’d opened her inbox, the private messages asking about her “boyfriend” were endless.

But she wasn’t about to tell him about her account.

She shifted her wording.

“It was because of you. My phone got soaked.”

Wei Qingxuan couldn’t connect the two events.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he said.

Then his voice slowed.

In a flash of thought, he wondered…

Had she drenched her phone because seeing his photo made her uncomfortable?

“You really didn’t like that photo?”

Wen Qi fell silent.

The photo was still in her gallery.

Alright, she’d looked at it several times before sleeping.

She’d even noticed a faint scar along his side waist, stretching toward his abs.

She wondered what it would feel like to touch.

‘!!!’

Wait.

Oh my God.

What was she thinking?

Eye candy and verbal teasing were one thing.

Was she actually considering hands-on curiosity too?

The thought startled her.

She must still be half-asleep.

She needed to crush that idea immediately.

Without hesitation, she said,

“Right. I didn’t like it.”

As if any delay would let that dangerous thought linger and tease her heart.

Hearing the agitation in her voice, Wei Qingxuan asked at once,

“Then what kind do you like?”

He meant to reassure her.

But somehow, it came out differently to Wen Qi.

Unbelievable.

How had Wei Qingxuan’s stubborn seriousness landed here of all places?

Wen Qi took a deep breath, rested her forehead against his back, and snapped irritably,

“I like the live version.”

****

¹ “Wolf-tiger words” (虎狼之词) is Chinese internet slang referring to bold or sexually suggestive remarks.