Song Meiqi froze, her gaze sweeping over the coffee table where papers, empty cup noodles, and soft drink bottles lay scattered across the floor, the once neat living room now a chaotic mess.
She had forgotten just how messy it was when she'd rushed out earlier to buy a couple of beers.
She turned around with a flustered smile, a warm flush creeping up her cheeks. Letting out a small, embarrassed laugh, she stammered, "Ah… it's not usually this messy."
Without waiting for a reply, she hurried to gather the scattered papers, stacking them neatly on the table before quickly tidying the rest of the living room. Only when everything looked halfway decent did she gesture toward the couch.
"Please, have a seat," she said, her voice laced with gentle warmth.
Even as she scrambled to tidy up, Zi Rui watched her with an unreadable expression, and the silence made Meiqi's pulse quicken with unease.
He sat down on the couch, back straight, carrying an air of elegance despite the casual sportswear he wore.
Meiqi's gaze lingered on him for a moment, thinking how someone who seemed like a noble prince—untouchable and distant—was still willing to help her and let her tend to the wound she had given him. With that thought, she turned away to fetch the medical kit.
Wang Zi Rui's gaze drifted to the papers she had just stacked, recognizing the faded notes and markings of music sheets. His eyes flickered—nostalgia tightening in his chest. It had been a long time since he'd last seen one.
Then, a hazy image of his mother surfaced in his mind—blurred at the edges, like a memory fading with time. Yet before the surge of emotion could overtake him, the sound of Meiqi's footsteps pulled him back. He shifted his gaze away from the papers, burying the memories deep and slipping the mask back on—just as he always had.
Meiqi walked over and set the medical kit on the table before kneeling in front of him, closing the distance until she could clearly see the wound. The faint scent of her shampoo drifted between them.
Zi Rui's gaze stayed fixed on her, silent and unreadable, as she opened the box and drew out a cotton swab dipped in medicine. Under the warm apartment light, her round eyes—dark as a midnight sky—held him captive.
Meiqi hesitated, then slowly reached up to remove his glasses. He didn't stop her; his gaze lingered, steady and unwavering, and she felt an inexplicable warmth rise to her cheeks, leaving her flustered without knowing why.
"It might sting a little," she said softly, her gentle voice tinged with concern. She then brushed the cotton swab over his wound, her hands steady in the lingering silence.
Afterwards, she blew gently on the wound, the warm air brushing against Zi Rui and catching him off guard. His eyes flickered, his hand curling into a fist, a brief flash of surprise crossing his features.
Meiqi was caught by his warm, golden eyes, holding his gaze until realization flushed her cheeks. She looked away, embarrassed.
Zi Rui finally shifted his gaze away as well, the air thick with awkward tension. Meiqi took the bandage and gently pressed it over his wound, breaking the silence. "Let me pay for your glasses, Mr. Wang," she said softly.
Yet Zi Rui replied, "It's fine," his voice calm, distant, and firm. Without another word, he rose, every movement precise, as if his business here were already complete. Meiqi stood as well.
"I've tightened the security around the building, so you can feel at ease," he added, his tone measured, before turning and leaving without waiting for her to say a word.
Meiqi stood frozen, caught between surprise and a strange, lingering awe.
The next morning, Meiqi plunged into rehearsal, with the concert fast approaching.
Meiqi poured all her energy into the performance, refusing to let the stalker situation distract her. She gripped the microphone, fingers tightening as she and the other members moved in sync, the band playing steadily behind them. The rhythm pulsed through the room, driving their movements and sharpening their focus.
After a while, the girls decided to take a break. Meiqi headed toward the restroom, and as she rounded a corner on her way out, she accidentally bumped into someone, sending his belongings tumbling to the floor.
She crouched down to help him gather his things, her face wearing an apologetic expression as she stammered, "Sorry… sorry…"
The man, equally flustered, bent down to pick up the scattered items and said quickly, "No, it's okay."
Meiqi spotted his phone lying on the ground and reached for it, but froze when she saw the screen already lit with a chat message. The avatar was familiar—the same one the stalker fan had used to message her. A poodle, the very breed she liked. Her heart skipped a beat as the pieces clicked together, and a chill ran down her spine.
Their eyes met for a fleeting moment before he snatched his phone and bolted. Meiqi sprang to her feet and gave chase, but after rounding a corner, he had vanished, leaving only her racing heartbeat behind.
Shock and fear churned in her chest as she suspected the man might be an employee of Stars Entertainment, yet beneath it all, a spark of determination burned—she wasn't about to let him slip away so easily.