She No Longer Loves (17)

This blatantly evasive remark sent Ning Moqing into deep thought.

An Xiaowei was so embarrassed she could practically dig up a beachside villa with her toes, but the crux of the matter was...

"I like men."

Ning Moqing’s words poured cold water over An Xiaowei’s head.

If there was one phrase to describe An Xiaowei right now, it would be—shattered ice popsicle.

"Ahem, I know. I also like men," An Xiaowei said, uttering a blatant lie.

But how could she possibly like men? She wasn’t gay.

"You like women," Ning Moqing said, fixing her gaze on An Xiaowei. Her cool, clear eyes held a trace of certainty, instantly exposing An Xiaowei’s flimsy deception.

An Xiaowei: "..."

"Don’t tell my sister about this," An Xiaowei forced out.

An Wan wasn’t hot-tempered, but she was a nag. Right now, An Xiaowei wasn’t the Monkey King, and she had no desire to listen to a sutra-spouting master.

"Mm, I know. I’m not the type to meddle," Ning Moqing replied, lowering her eyes. Without another word, she drove An Xiaowei home.

"Earlier, I was just testing you. I didn’t expect you to actually admit it," Ning Moqing suddenly remarked as she unlocked the door.

An Xiaowei: "???"

What the hell!

This woman had no sense of honor, daring to trick an innocent, sunshine girl like her.

She ought to be dragged out and beheaded.

An Xiaowei felt her fragile heart had suffered a devastating blow. She would never love again.

As soon as they stepped inside, Ning Moqing fetched a bottle of milk from the fridge for her.

"I’ll heat it up for you. Xu Ya is a bad influence. If you insist on going to bars with her, she’ll only lead you astray. If you get corrupted, your sister will be disappointed, and I’ll be blamed. In that case, I’d also lose my..."

"Stop!" An Xiaowei hastily gestured.

Ning Moqing lifted her gaze. Her lips were as delicate as flower petals, and the overhead light cast a soft, ethereal glow over her, making her seem almost otherworldly.

An Xiaowei quickly averted her eyes.

"Enough lecturing. I won’t go, alright?"

So controlling. Next time, she’d go anyway.

An Xiaowei’s rebellious streak was incurable.

Ning Moqing shot her a look, as if seeing right through her thoughts. She closed the fridge, sat on the sofa, and turned on the TV.

"Good that Xiaowei understands. I’d hate to have to discipline you."

An Xiaowei: "..."

At a loss for where to look, An Xiaowei’s eyes wandered to Ning Moqing’s legs—slender and far more attractive than An Wan’s. Then her gaze drifted to her feet, the translucent nails shimmering faintly under the light.

"Where are you looking?" Ning Moqing asked.

"At your feet," An Xiaowei blurted out.

Ning Moqing let out a soft hum but didn’t comment further. After all, Xiaowei’s gaze held nothing but admiration—no ulterior motives.

Still, she draped a blanket over her legs and reclined on the sofa.

"Go wash off your makeup. It’s late—time for bed."

An Xiaowei: "..."

She checked the time. The sun had barely set. Ning Moqing really had the sleep schedule of an old woman.

Not daring to openly defy her, An Xiaowei muttered under her breath instead.

"I won’t sleep, I won’t sleep, I won’t sleep."

To her shock, Ning Moqing suddenly sat up and lightly tapped her forehead with a slender finger.

"What did you say?"

"I said I won’t sleep," An Xiaowei retorted, fearless as ever.

Ning Moqing paused, then closed the fashion magazine in her hands.

"Then... how about we go grab a bite to eat?"

At the mention of food, An Xiaowei’s throat tightened. Years of rough living had weathered her soul. If anything could comfort her now, one meal wouldn’t cut it.

She’d need at least two.

"I want hotpot."

Petite as she was, An Xiaowei had high standards.

If one didn’t indulge in hotpot while they had the means, life would lose all meaning. What if, in her next transmigration novel, she ended up dirt poor?

What if she died right after crossing over?!

Ugh!

What terrible luck.

"Fine, hotpot it is. But it’s late—don’t overeat," Ning Moqing agreed without protest. A single hotpot meal was nothing—she could afford a hundred.

In this life, she lacked many things, but money wasn’t one of them.

"Yay!" The mention of hotpot instantly revitalized An Xiaowei.

Before they left, however, Ning Moqing pinned her down and... did that.

And by that, of course, she meant applying medicine.

Humming a tune, An Xiaowei followed Ning Moqing out for hotpot. But when Ning Moqing listened closely to the song...

"Two Tigers."

Well sung. Please never sing it again.

Yet what An Xiaowei never expected was that this outing would lead to an unfortunate coincidence.

They ran into the male lead.

And his childhood sweetheart—Jiaojiao-chan.

The moment Yan Chen spotted An Xiaowei, he panicked and glanced at Li Jiaojiao, quickly pulling his hand back. Li Jiaojiao was displeased but hid it well.

Ning Moqing’s gaze locked onto Yan Chen. He wanted to leave, but their food had already been ordered, and it was too late to switch tables.

"Xiaowei, did you see that?" Ning Moqing’s tone was grave.

"See what? What’s there to see?" An Xiaowei played dumb.

But inwardly, she cursed. Ning Moqing had met Yan Chen before. If she took a photo and showed An Wan, Li Jiaojiao and Yan Chen’s little affair would be ruined.

The green hat she’d painstakingly woven hadn’t even had time to shine yet. If it got nipped in the bud, An Xiaowei swore she’d drink the northwest wind to death.

"They just look alike, right? I don’t think it’s that giegie. That guy is totally devoted to my sister—though she’s not that into him anyway. The entertainment industry is full of handsome men," An Xiaowei deliberately said in a mocking tone.

Ning Moqing fell silent, about to glance at Yan Chen again, when An Xiaowei grabbed her hand.

"Moqing-jie, I want an orange."

The way her big eyes blinked melted Ning Moqing’s heart instantly.

"I’ll get you one," Ning Moqing said, standing up at once.

Once Ning Moqing was gone, An Xiaowei turned to Li Jiaojiao and Yan Chen.

"You two look great together. Wishing you a long and happy relationship~," she said with a sweet smile.

Yan Chen’s expression darkened. That damn girl had ruined his plans one too many times.

This hotpot outing with Li Jiaojiao was meant to repay a favor—and to make up for how he’d wronged her. Lately, Jiaojiao had been so docile and understanding, never clinging to him like before.

It made him itch with temptation. Earlier, when Jiaojiao had dozed off and her head accidentally rested on his shoulder...

For a fleeting moment, he’d wanted to kiss her.