Pei Muchan reached out to take the glass and glanced at him.
"I'm glad you can let it go. I was afraid you'd impulsively go and confront someone. Just endure it for a couple more days. We're still on the show, and breaching the contract now would just make the other party happy."
"I'm not a child who has to fight over every little thing," Xu Qingyan turned over and lay back down, took a sip of beer, "I just don't quite understand - is Ji Chen really that petty?"
"It was just a couple of retorts, and that guy spent money to push a hot search against me, the kind that leaves no evidence."
Upon hearing this, Pei Muchan fell silent for a few seconds.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't say that. If anyone should be saying sorry, it should be me." Xu Qingyan waved his hand and lay back on the sofa, squinting at the light above."
"Why?"
"Perhaps when I snatched away the phone, my intentions weren't so pure." Xu Qingyan always felt there was something wrong with that gulp of beer, as he couldn't stop talking after just one sip.
"What do you mean?"
"I feel guilty. It wasn't just that I couldn't stand to see Ji Chen harassing you." Xu Qingyan thought it pointless to hide his feelings and decided to spill everything at once.
"I also had my own selfish reasons; I wanted to get closer to you. Looking back, I overstepped, but I couldn't find any other way."
"Thinking about it now, I was too impulsive back then. I never considered whether acting on my own would cause you any trouble."
As she listened to what he said, Pei Muchan's face warmed slightly.
Especially upon hearing "I wanted to get closer to you". Even though she knew he was referring to writing songs, she couldn't help thinking too much about it.
"It's not too much trouble. Ji Chen has always been that way." She lifted the hair from her forehead, tucked it behind her ear, and paused in that position for a while.
"Actually... we could try to get to know each other better."
"Huh?" Xu Qingyan looked at her in surprise, "What do you mean by getting to know each other better?"
He couldn't remember where he had learned the trick that if you're running out of things to talk about with a girl, just keep asking questions. Following her lead, every sentence was a query.
The more you talk, the deeper the conversation gets.
"It means just what it sounds like, to have a relationship that's a bit closer than mere acquaintances." Pei Muchan didn't look at him, took the glass for herself, and blew on it, her long pale fingers loosely encircling the outside of the glass.
"Oh~"
"How did you get to know Ji Chen?" he asked again.
"From the same company, we debuted around the same time; everyone was new." Pei Muchan, a northerner, habitually drew out her tones.
Yet she spoke unhurriedly, like the light rain in March, like willows gently swaying.
"Xingchen Entertainment likes to sign a lot of people at once, then allocate resources bit by bit, and proceed with selection. I knew there was such a person, but we never talked."
"Later, at a party hosted by my father's friend, I discovered he knew my parents. They thought since we were in the same company, we must know each other, but we weren't close."
"He wanted to be with me then, but I didn't agree. The company then set him up with a rock band, and he shot to fame afterward. He changed after that, becoming more and more extreme."
"He always thought I rejected him because he wasn't famous enough. Later, when my contract expired, I left the company and started my own studio."
Hearing this, Xu Qingyan couldn't help but look up and ask,
On the other hand, Pei Muchan wasn't having it any easier. She maintained her composure on the way back to her room. But the moment she locked the door, her body slid down to the floor.
Thinking about his words, "I just want to be closer to you," even though she hadn't touched a drop of liquor, her face started heating up bit by bit.
And she herself said something about being more familiar.
"I really want to die, he must have misunderstood," Pei Muchan sat on the floor, her heart pounding as she took out her phone and checked—fortunately, no new messages had come through.
If he messaged asking if that was what she meant, she might as well jump from the second floor.
.....
The sixth day.
When Xu Qingyan woke up in the morning, his phone showed it was eight o'clock.
He had one hour until the recording. He habitually opened the backend and began replying to messages one by one, mainly to respond to Lin Wanzhou's comforting words. She had sent many messages.
Last night he replied a lot, not expecting her to send more after waking up in the middle of the night.
Anyway, it was quite cute.
But Xu Qingyan was no greenhorn college student, accustomed to the thrills and struggles of society. His psychological resilience was stronger than most, and he wouldn't be affected by such nonsense.
After replying to the messages, he got up to wash up and tidy up the empty cans on the table.
At nine o'clock, as he went downstairs, he glanced at the trending list. The previous hot searches were nowhere to be seen. Even actively searching, the comment section below had completely degenerated.
Unless someone showed their face in a video, holding an ID card and sobbing, the topic wouldn't heat up.
But if someone really dared to do this, chances were that not long after the video was posted, the local police would nab them. Tagged with slander and malicious competition, they would be locked up for years.
As he scrolled, Xu Qingyan's gaze was suddenly drawn to a post. He stopped on the last step of the staircase.
He tapped on the phone, entering a thread titled "He was my classmate, Xu Qingyan never dated in college," and the phone displayed the spinning circle before accessing the thread.
The poster claimed to be Xu Qingyan's classmate, listing many pieces of evidence to prove that he was always busy working part-time during college, never having time for dating.
The post was edited multiple times, starting off with a straightforward listing of evidence. For example, one photo showed him just after finishing a part-time job, walking back to his dorm.
Above was the warm glow of a street lamp, beneath a large area bathed in its yellow light.
Or, he was seen serving dishes to classmates during a kitchen shift, resting at the back door; catching buses and squeezing onto subways on weekends, around late autumn, zipper pulled all the way up.
His face was worn, his temples cool, leaning against the subway seat, dozing off. Perhaps because some questioned the intent of the post, more and more photos started pouring in, from all different time frames.
It was always him alone, carrying a black bag, wearing clothes not the latest fashion, slightly out of date but always clean.
As the post progressed, the perspective became more apparent, and emotions started to seep through the words.
Some also doubted the poster's intentions, claiming various things.
The top two comments with the most likes were: "Is the blogger one of his flings, working so hard to clear his name, how much did you get paid?"
"This is outrageous, pulling hot searches so quickly is one thing, but to have white-washing posts so soon?"
The replies below went on at length, Xu Qingyan didn't bother to read them any further, quickly pocketed his phone, and hurried downstairs. Seeing those photos, he had an idea who might have written the post.
In college, he knew few people, even fewer were girls. But they were all friends. To be able to take so many photos, and to have frequently seen him back then, there was only....