Chapter 37: Just How Many People Does She Truly Love

On the other side, Lu Xingjian and Ji Rutang sat together on the sofa. Ji Rutang overheard Lu Yuanyi asking about Gu Shiyan, and chuckled, “That’s not just a girlfriend—she’s probably his wife, haha.”

Lu Yuanyi finally glanced over at Luo Xing, sizing her up. “Never seen her before. Whose family is she from?”

Lu Xingjian shook his head beside her. “Probably from the North City.”

“North City?” Lu Yuanyi took a drag of her cigarette and exhaled slowly, her voice tinged with discontent. “Why does she keep staring at my man? Hm? Young Master Gu?”

Her slender eyes slanted toward Gu Shiyan.

Gu Shiyan leaned back lazily, his tone languid, “Let her stare—it’s not like I’ll lose a piece of flesh.”

The song ended, and Qi Zhi put down his instrument and walked down the steps.

He passed by Luo Xing.

Luo Xing looked at him—he was even more attractive than on screen, tall, broad-shouldered, with a narrow waist.

Yet Luo Xing could tell he wasn’t happy. It was as if, with no cameras around, he simply couldn’t smile.

Gu Shiyan glanced at Luo Xing, a thin haze of smoke drifting between them.

He pressed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table.

A bespectacled boy nearby noticed Gu Shiyan put his cigarette out and paused in surprise. “Brother Yan, is the smoke no good?”

Ji Rutang flicked a cigarette out of his pack. “Here, try mine.”

Gu Shiyan took the whole pack.

Ji Rutang protested, “At least leave me one, bro.”

Gu Shiyan tucked the pack behind himself, clearly unwilling to share.

“Sit here,” Gu Shiyan nodded at Luo Xing, indicating the seat beside him.

Luo Xing walked over, tempted to ask about Qi Zhi.

But after all, she had no real connection to him.

Sitting next to Gu Shiyan, Luo Xing noticed Ji Rutang and Lu Xingjian’s group giving her odd looks.

“What are you staring at me for?” She touched her face.

Ji Rutang only smiled, saying nothing.

But inwardly, he understood—Gu Shiyan never used to stub out his smokes halfway at gatherings like these, nor would he collect the cigarettes. Clearly, it was only because of this girl that he’d stopped smoking.

Ji Rutang eyed Gu Shiyan intently. “You’re serious this time.”

Gu Shiyan looked back at him. “Serious about what?”

Ji Rutang glanced at Luo Xing. “Would you like a drink?”

Luo Xing was about to answer when a cup suddenly appeared before her, the straw pressed directly to her lips. “Just drink your water,” came the instruction.

Luo Xing took her water bottle. “I want something else.”

Lu Yuanyi laughed from the side. “You really did fetch that for your girlfriend, Gu Shiyan. Since when did you become such a romantic?”

Luo Xing looked toward Lu Yuanyi. At that moment, Qi Zhi crouched beside her to light her cigarette.

The tall man looked distinctly uncomfortable in a crouch, one knee pressed to the floor.

A sudden pang struck Luo Xing—someone she only ever saw on her phone was now here, reduced to crouching on the floor to light a cigarette.

If Yun Cai knew, if Qi Zhi’s other fans knew…

No—they would never know, for nothing here would ever be revealed.

The man who stood above all, with millions of fans, was nothing more than a rich person’s plaything.

Luo Xing bit down on her straw, her eyes growing red.

She suddenly felt she shouldn’t have come.

Gu Shiyan leaned forward, blocking her view. “What drink do you want?”

Luo Xing silently shook her head.

She had wanted to ask Qi Zhi for his autograph.

But now, she dared not reveal she was a fan.

He would only feel more humiliated.

Lu Yuanyi had been watching Luo Xing all along, a sly smile curling her lips.

Her bright red stiletto pressed into Qi Zhi’s bent knee, the thin heel digging in.

“It’s your birthday today—what do you want?” Her voice was slow and languid, void of any sincerity, as if she were talking to a toy.

Luo Xing gripped her water cup tightly, her sharp teeth nearly tearing the straw apart.

“Miss Lu, you know what I want,” Qi Zhi’s voice was nothing like what Luo Xing heard from him in movies.

It was rough with fatigue, utterly devoid of spirit.

Lu Yuanyi tapped her forehead, exhaling a white plume of smoke into the air.

“Gu Shiyan, is your girlfriend one of his fans?” Her teasing voice rang out.

The moment the words left her lips, Qi Zhi, crouched on the floor, visibly trembled, a certain fragility flashing through his eyes.

Luo Xing’s nose burned with the threat of tears.

No one dared interrupt.

Gu Shiyan withdrew his gaze from Luo Xing, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to mask the turmoil within.

He leaned back and let out a cold laugh. “Sister Yi, you’re overthinking it.”

Luo Xing knew Gu Shiyan was helping her.

She forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat.

She did not admit being Qi Zhi’s fan.

“Shy, are you? Want Qi Zhi to sign something for you?” Lu Yuanyi glanced at Qi Zhi on the floor. “Not bad—Gu Shiyan’s girlfriends are all your fans.”

Luo Xing had been watching Qi Zhi the moment she entered; it was too late to deny anything now.

Lu Yuanyi nudged him with her heel. “Go peel an orange for her.”

Luo Xing abruptly stood up, jaw clenched. “No need.”

Next to her, Gu Shiyan still held the strap of her water bottle.

The tender pink ribbon looped around his fingertips.

He twirled it absently.

Luo Xing glared at him.

Gu Shiyan chuckled under his breath, turning to Lu Yuanyi. “You place too much importance on him. You think every girl who walks in here is his fan? My girlfriend doesn’t eat oranges peeled by someone else.”

Qi Zhi remained crouched, eyes lowered, messy hair falling across his forehead like a pitiful stray dog.

Luo Xing knew she must not admit it.

If Qi Zhi saw his fan witness such humiliation, she could not imagine the hurt it would cause him.

She slowly sat down.

But Lu Yuanyi refused to let go, her gaze at Qi Zhi full of mocking amusement. “You tell us—can you recognize your own fans?”

As she spoke, her heel pressed down harder.

She was forcing Qi Zhi.

Luo Xing pressed her hand into Gu Shiyan’s palm.

Their palms, separated only by the thin strap, burned from the heat.

Gu Shiyan’s eyelids trembled; his gaze fell to their joined hands.

That look, seemingly indifferent, was full of deep feeling.

But when he looked up, his eyes were once again clear. His lips parted slightly. “Luo Xing…”

She had taken his hand for Qi Zhi’s sake.

That day, even in the face of danger, she hadn’t asked him for help.

But now, just because she couldn’t stand seeing Qi Zhi bullied?

Then what was he to her? Was he merely a shield so she could protect her idol?

Why should he be?

Nervous sweat beaded in Luo Xing’s palm. She didn’t understand why Qi Zhi would let himself be bullied like this.

But she truly couldn’t bear to watch—the usually cheerful, devoted, fan-friendly Qi Zhi was now like a puppet, trampled underfoot.

Her fingers moved slightly, slipping something into Gu Shiyan’s hand.

He glanced down and saw Luo Xing had placed a black card in his palm.

The brief flash of confusion in his eyes went unnoticed.

For Qi Zhi’s sake, Luo Xing was offering him the old man’s card as a trade.

First Shen Que, then the woman at the dessert shop, and now Qi Zhi.

Heh. Just how many people did she like?