Chapter 15
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Chapter 15: Kiss Me
The shoot progressed swiftly. Song Xian was incredibly professional—finding the right angle, snapping a few shots, then handing the camera over to Jiang Liuyi for feedback. Focused on the display screen, her side profile was taut with concentration, her expression serious. Jiang Liuyi stood beside her, and when her gaze caught the look on Song Xian’s face, her heartbeat quickened slightly.
Utterly inexplicable.
She steadied her breath and heard Song Xian ask, “How is it? Are these okay?”
In the photos, Jiang Liuyi sat with casual elegance. Song Xian’s timing and instinct were impeccable—flawless, really. There was nothing to critique. Jiang Liuyi nodded. “They’re good.”
“Then let’s do two more sets and wrap up,” Song Xian said.
She gave a cue to the lighting technician, but no one responded. Jiang Liuyi turned and noticed the technician staring—at Song Xian—unblinking.
Jiang Liuyi followed her gaze. Song Xian was still in that white tank top. It wasn’t revealing, but her figure was too striking—tall, narrow shoulders, a slim waist, and curves that stood out. When she got serious, she became even more captivating.
Jiang Liuyi gave a small cough and called out, “Miss He?”
He Xiaoying rushed over immediately, full of pep. “Yes, Ms. Jiang?”
“Could you help hold the reflector board?”
He Xiaoying didn’t quite get it at first. But then she caught the way the lighting technician was looking at Song Xian—blatant admiration, laid bare. She nodded quickly. “I’ll give it a try.”
Song Xian frowned. “You don’t even know how. What are you trying for?”
He Xiaoying blinked at her dramatically, motioning with her eyes—Your wife is jealous. Song Xian’s brow furrowed deeper. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing! I just want to learn!” He Xiaoying declared. “You’re never too old to pick up a new skill!”
Song Xian: …
She wanted to say, Don’t make things worse, but how could she discourage someone from being eager to learn? He Xiaoying took a spot beside the technician and said, “I’ll hold this. You go out and grab us two milk teas.”
The technician cast one more reluctant glance at Song Xian, only to shrink back when she caught Jiang Liuyi’s cool stare. She lowered her head and stepped aside.
The next two sets went by quickly. Before long, the edited images were up on the computer. Song Xian asked, “Which ones do you like?”
He Xiaoying cut in, “Song Xian, why don’t you two pick your favorites at home tonight? How about we head to the restaurant now?”
Song Xian glanced at her watch—it was a little past six. The dinner was at 7:30, and they’d need time to arrive early and order ahead. She looked toward Jiang Liuyi, who nodded. “Sounds good.”
“Then let’s go.”
Just as Song Xian finished speaking and began packing up her laptop, her wrist was gently caught—by Jiang Liuyi.
“Wait a second.”
She turned to see Jiang Liuyi taking off her shirt and draping it over her shoulders. The fabric was still warm from her body, and when it touched Song Xian’s skin, the warmth spread, soft and intimate.
“Arms up,” Jiang Liuyi said.
Obligingly, Song Xian raised her arms and slipped them into the sleeves. Jiang Liuyi helped adjust the collar for her, smoothing it into place. Song Xian, unused to the gesture, took a half-step back. “I can do it.”
Jiang Liuyi frowned faintly but said nothing.
Once everything was packed, they headed to the Little Loft. It was over half an hour’s drive from the studio. By the time they arrived, two of their colleagues were already seated in the private room. When Jiang Liuyi walked in, they rose to their feet, visibly reserved.
Having spent the entire afternoon with her, He Xiaoying had a new impression of Jiang Liuyi. Though she seemed cold on the surface, her temperament was actually quite decent—come to think of it, not unlike Song Xian’s.
But Song Xian never made people feel distant. Her quietness had a serene quality. Jiang Liuyi, on the other hand, carried a trace of sharpness in her bearing.
So the two colleagues remained silent even after Jiang Liuyi entered. He Xiaoying broke the tension. “Relax, don’t be so stiff. Where’s Wu Ying?”
“She’ll be here in a bit. We wrapped up early.”
He Xiaoying nodded and opened the company group chat, only to see that the two colleagues who were sitting stiffly across from her were, at the same time, frantically messaging the group.
[Holy crap holy crap! I just saw Jiang Liuyi!]
[I can’t breathe—someone get here, fast!]
[Why are you all so slow?! Her aura is insane, I can’t take it!]
[Total queen energy, right? I’m on my way, goddess!]
The messages were flying up the screen like wildfire. Setting her phone down, He Xiaoying asked Song Xian, “Should we go ahead and order?”
Song Xian nodded. She handed the menu to He Xiaoying, who—trembling slightly—passed it to the two colleagues. They, equally nervous, handed it on to Jiang Liuyi.
Jiang Liuyi wasn’t familiar with everyone’s preferences, so she deferred to the others. The two colleagues uploaded the menu to the group chat and, based on everyone’s preferences, selected seven or eight dishes before handing it back to Jiang Liuyi. After making a few additions of her own, she turned to Song Xian and asked, “Is this okay?”
Song Xian glanced over. “Looks good.”
The two colleagues, phones clutched in hand, whispered, “She’s so considerate with Song Xian. So sweet.”
Everyone else in the group chat was itching with curiosity. Yuan Hong was too. She’d just wrapped up a company meeting that had run late—otherwise, she would’ve arrived early at the Little Loft. As she got out of the car, several colleagues were arriving at the same time and greeted her.
Wu Ying chimed in, “He Xiaoying said Jiang Liuyi’s actually really nice. Looks like we’ll definitely get that autograph later.”
“I don’t dare. I’m still nervous.”
“You coward.”
Yuan Hong laughed and teased as she led the group inside. In the private room, four people were already seated. Jiang Liuyi and Song Xian were leaning in close, quietly talking about something. Yuan Hong walked straight up to Jiang Liuyi and extended her hand. “Ms. Jiang.”
When she looked up, Song Xian offered an introduction. “This is our editor-in-chief.”
Jiang Liuyi shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Song Xian proceeded to introduce her to everyone else one by one. The others eagerly gathered around Jiang Liuyi, each hoping for a handshake. What was supposed to be a casual dinner was starting to feel like a fan meet-and-greet. Yuan Hong clapped her hands. “Alright, alright, let’s not be too stiff tonight. This is just a get-together. And since Ms. Jiang is married to Song Xian, that makes her one of us here at Man Tong. Don’t you all agree?”
The others burst into laughter and agreed with cheerful teasing. Song Xian remained composed as always, her expression calm and unreadable. Jiang Liuyi glanced sideways at her and, for a moment, the lively din around them didn’t feel so overwhelming.
Once they were seated again, Yuan Hong took the seat on Jiang Liuyi’s other side. She said to the group, “Actually, I saw Ms. Jiang perform once—two years ago.”
Jiang Liuyi tilted her head slightly. Yuan Hong continued, “You were on stage. I was in the audience.”
Wu Ying reached out dramatically. “Then technically I’ve seen her too. She was on TV. I was… not.”
Everyone burst into laughter, and the atmosphere lightened instantly. Before long, the dishes began arriving. He Xiaoying had even ordered a bottle of red wine. Song Xian initially declined, planning to drive later, but He Xiaoying insisted, “That won’t do. You two are the stars tonight. I’ll call a driver for you afterward.”
Song Xian had no choice but to pour herself half a glass.
Her tolerance clearly wasn’t as high as Jiang Liuyi’s. Just a little was enough to bring a flush to her cheeks—soft, rosy warmth rising under her skin. Yet her eyes remained strikingly clear, making it hard to tell whether she was actually tipsy or just looked it.
After Yuan Hong toasted them, Director Ye followed suit. “A toast to both of you. Wishing you a long and happy marriage!”
It was a sincere blessing. Though she hadn’t been fond of Song Xian at first, now she wanted their marriage to succeed more than anyone else at the magazine—to last, and to last well.
Song Xian raised her glass and clinked it gently. “Thank you.”
“Me too, me too!” Wu Ying jumped up. “A toast to my goddess and to Song Xian!”
She laughed as she said it. “Can I make a small request?”
Jiang Liuyi asked, “What is it?”
Everyone chimed in at once. “An autograph!”
Jiang Liuyi couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright.”
Wu Ying, not missing a beat, immediately pulled out a postcard. “I’m afraid I’ll forget once I’ve had more to drink. Can you sign it now?”
Jiang Liuyi took the pen and postcard, signing with a few swift strokes. Her handwriting was graceful and strong, clean and confident. Wu Ying cradled the signed card and grinned like a fool. “Just like you—so beautiful!”
The others looked over with hopeful eyes, and Jiang Liuyi ended up signing for each of them.
With nothing left to stress about, everyone drank a little more and let loose. The conversation drifted here and there, and inevitably someone brought up Meixiu—grudges old and new flared up, and the complaints came pouring out. Song Xian sat quietly beside them, listening. From time to time, she raised her glass and took a sip.
He Xiaoying said, “But honestly, the reason we even got to feature Ms. Jiang this time is all thanks to Song Xian. Chief Editor, you really should give her a raise!”
Yuan Hong, more than a little tipsy by now, nodded as they egged her on. “Raise, raise, raise! If this issue hits number one, everyone gets a raise!”
He Xiaoying clapped her hands and laughed. Song Xian glanced around, a little distracted. Jiang Liuyi asked, “What is it?”
Song Xian looked up. “I want to use the bathroom.”
Her eyes were bright, calm, but her cheeks were flushed. Jiang Liuyi didn’t feel comfortable letting her go alone. “I’ll go with you.”
Song Xian nodded obediently. “Okay.”
The two of them stepped out of the private room. As the door opened, a gust of cool air swept in, sobering Jiang Liuyi slightly. She walked Song Xian to the restroom and paused at the door. “Do you want me to come in with you?”
Song Xian shook her head and walked into the restroom alone. Jiang Liuyi remained outside, rinsing her hands. A short while later, Song Xian emerged. With unhurried ease, she stepped up beside Jiang Liuyi, pumped some soap, washed her hands, dried them thoroughly, and only then said, “Let’s go back.”
Jiang Liuyi had walked a few steps ahead before turning around. “Are you drunk?”
Song Xian paused for a few seconds. “No.”
Jiang Liuyi turned her gaze away and walked back with her to the private room. Inside, the atmosphere had already relaxed—no trace of the earlier stiffness remained. Once Song Xian sat down, Yuan Hong asked, “You didn’t drink too much, right?”
Song Xian shook her head. “I didn’t.”
Yuan Hong was visibly relieved. Then, turning to Jiang Liuyi, she apologized, “Sorry, they can get a little rowdy.”
They were all young women, and a few were clearly fans of Jiang Liuyi. Plus, with this issue likely to top the sales chart, emotions were running high—it was hard not to get a little carried away.
Jiang Liuyi replied, “It’s fine.”
Yuan Hong added, “Then I’ll leave Song Xian in your care.”
Jiang Liuyi turned her head and saw Song Xian secretly sipping from her wine glass again. She took the glass away. Song Xian looked faintly displeased, but said nothing, simply sitting quietly as the others chatted around her. Jiang Liuyi, ever observant, noticed a strand of hair had fallen onto Song Xian’s collar, brushing against her neck—it must have been tickling. Song Xian was scratching at the spot, and the skin there had already turned red.
Quickly, Jiang Liuyi caught her wrist. Song Xian turned, just in time to see her lower her head and pluck the hair gently from her collar. Concerned there might be more, Jiang Liuyi carefully checked the neckline of her shirt. The two were close—very close. Jiang Liuyi’s breath landed softly against Song Xian’s neck. Instinctively, Song Xian leaned back slightly, creating distance between them.
Watching the moment unfold, Jiang Liuyi was suddenly reminded of the photoshoot earlier—how it had felt when she helped Song Xian put on her shirt.
She called out, “Song Xian.”
Song Xian’s hand was still caught in Jiang Liuyi’s grasp. She tried to pull away but couldn’t. Looking at her, puzzled, she asked, “What is it?”
Jiang Liuyi wetted her lips. “I just wanted to say… you don’t have to be so shy when we’re out.”
Song Xian blinked. “Shy?” She refuted, “I’m not shy.”
Liar.
Jiang Liuyi raised the hand she was holding, gaze lingering on Song Xian’s wine-flushed cheeks. A smile tugged at her lips. “You’re not?”
“I’m not,” Song Xian insisted, firm and sure.
Then, as if compelled by something beyond reason, Jiang Liuyi said, “Then kiss me.”
