Chapter 25

Posted by onee-chan, Released on March 7, 2025

So how could he tell that she couldn’t wait?

Bian Li curled her lips and, with a thought, immediately threw an emoji package his way. It was a panda head righteously extending a hand, making a “stop” gesture.

[Fei Fei Eats Pear]: Stop, stop, I can’t be more coquettish than you.jpg

[X.]: ?

Bian Li mulled it over and made a decision.

She might as well return the jacket now.

The New Year’s Eve stage would be packed—too many people, too many eyes. Backstage, there would be cameras from all angles, and major fan clubs would be visiting the studio. It would be nearly impossible to find a chance to see him.

Handing over the jacket at that time? Not realistic.

[Fei Fei Eats Pear]: How about this? I’ll return your jacket now. Just meet me on the balcony, and I’ll hand it over to you.

[X.]: I’m asleep.

Bian Li stared at the message.

If he was asleep, how was he still replying?

He Yunxing… seemed to have some kind of brain problem right now.

Clearly, he was rejecting her.

But wasn’t he the one who just asked her to go to his room?

Bian Li was suddenly curious about the whole balcony situation.

The platforms of their rooms were on the same level, separated by a low railing. A single step could easily get her across.

But just as her excitement started to rise, it fizzled out just as quickly.

[Fei Fei Eats Pear]: Sigh… Goodnight?

[X.]: Goodnight.

She stared at the screen for a while, then let out two soft hums, not bothering to reply.

Bian Li closed her eyes.

For some reason, tonight felt warm and sweet.

—

After a short break, the day before New Year’s Eve arrived.

Bian Li, along with her two sisters and the entire team, spent half the day warming up in the practice room.

Never expect an artist to be free and easy at the start of the new year’s social scene.

If such a thing existed, it could only be described as utterly obscure—so obscure it practically reached the core of the earth.

Unlike previous online live broadcasts on streaming platforms, the sharp rise in Gemini’s popularity over the past year had secured them a prime opportunity—a satellite broadcast.

The gap between satellite stations and network platforms was obvious.

Satellite TV meant massive traffic, a wide audience, and an instant boost in popularity. To cater to modern viewing habits, the network even launched a special mobile app for live streaming alongside TV broadcasts. This ensured both high TV ratings and strong online engagement, keeping night-owl netizens hooked.

In contrast, network platforms were on a completely different level—limited traffic, niche audiences, and minimal reach.

Honestly, if not for dedicated fans, no one would even be watching.

Idol culture in China was still developing, and business capabilities among groups varied greatly.

Most girl groups only got invited to niche streaming platforms for the New Year’s Eve stage—just enough exposure to show their faces, perform a single song, and call it a night.

But this time, Gemini was assigned to Kiwi TV.

To say they were thrilled would be an understatement.

Kiwi TV was the most-watched satellite station in the country. Its variety shows were viral, its dramas topped charts, and its national recognition was unmatched.

Every year, its New Year’s Eve stage ranked first in ratings and fan engagement.

Forget the station’s own prestige—the sheer star power of its invited guests was enough to prove its dominance.

For years, Kiwi TV had only invited two top-tier boy groups as guest performers. A girl group hadn’t set foot on that stage in ages.

It was an unspoken truth in the industry—girl groups didn’t hold the same weight in terms of popularity and strength.

But in recent years, new stars had been on the rise. Major entertainment companies had spotted the gap and poured resources into training powerful girl groups. The results were undeniable.

Yi Qian Entertainment had been late to the game, but their investment had paid off.

The moment news of Gemini’s participation hit the internet, it exploded.

Fans were ecstatic. Passersby were confused. And the rest? Watching with curiosity.

This surge in attention made one thing clear—Gemini was a success.

The future was unpredictable, but their current momentum made one thing certain: mediocrity was not in their path.

No girl group had ever reached this point before.

Bian Li held onto that belief and trained even harder.

A chance like this—a stage this big—had to be seized with both hands.

After Gemini’s company training and integration, their schedule became relentless. Apart from the first half of the day dedicated to practice, the rest of the day—and the entire night—offered no real chance to rest.

Kiwi TV had chosen a massive indoor stadium in City Z for the New Year’s Eve stage. With such a large-scale event and an extensive lineup of celebrities, the live broadcast’s requirements were naturally demanding.

Mistakes weren’t an option, so all performers had to rehearse a day in advance to ensure they’d be fully prepared for the actual live broadcast. The rehearsal order followed a strict hierarchy—big names with tight schedules or high status went first.

Gemini, not fitting either category, was scheduled toward the end of the lineup. Their turn wouldn’t come until the early hours of the morning.

Bian Li knew how to keep herself entertained. After all, spending both New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day inside a stadium meant she had to find ways to pass the time.

Luckily, the organizers were generous enough to provide full high-speed Wi-Fi coverage. Bian Li curled up in the exclusive lounge, scrolling through Weibo every now and then.

Meanwhile, Ruan Xiangyi and Ying Xuelai were resting with their eyes closed, wrapped in thin blankets.

Da Xiong, after running through the rehearsal schedule and checking their in-ear monitors for any issues, finally had a moment to talk.

“Other groups took on collaborative performances, but I turned them down for you guys at the end of the year, thinking you’d be too exhausted,” he said. “Now I feel like I was being too naïve. You all still seem way too idle.”

Bian Li sighed dramatically and activated “zombie mode”. “Big Bear, what do you know? I’m actually so tired, but I just can’t sleep. My eyelids are heavy, my body is exhausted… but my phone is just too fun. What can I do?”

She had a way with words, always ready with an excuse.

Da Xiong chuckled. “It’s just because this is your official debut. Mr. Shen took over the company, and the new boss is more lenient. Back then, you couldn’t even touch your phone case.”

Bian Li hummed in agreement, then turned to ask, “But when are we starting? I feel like I’ve been waiting so long I might just wither away.”

Da Xiong glanced at the clock and shook his head. “It’s still too early, my little aunt. Learn from the others—they’re all quiet and resting. Why don’t you take a nap? By the time you wake up, it’ll be just about time for rehearsal. Isn’t that a great idea?”

Bian Li hesitated. “But I just can’t sleep.”

The moment she finished speaking, the frustration in her eyes flickered away, replaced by something brighter.

“Oh, right! Big Bear, if I needed you to deliver something for me, would you?” she asked, her voice light and casual.

Da Xiong eyed her suspiciously. “What is it? And who are you giving it to?”

Under his sharp, defensive gaze, Bian Li hesitated.

A certain figure suddenly surfaced in her mind—You Shu, a member of a boy band she had once been grouped with on a variety show.

Back then, after the show, he had given her some food. Da Xiong caught wind of it and gave the poor guy such an intense lecture that he left completely baffled.

Thinking about it now, it was actually hilarious.

Forget it. If Da Xiong found out she was trying to return He Yunxing’s coat, he’d definitely punish her just for the sake of Brother Li.

Keeping her expression natural, Bian Li blinked innocently. “Oh, I was just asking if I could go to the bathroom?”

Da Xiong slumped into a chair beside him, his sturdy frame slightly hunched. With all the work recently, he was exhausted too.

He waved his hand lazily. “Do you really need my permission for something like that? You’re yapping like a little kid. Go, but don’t take too long.”

Bian Li nodded and peeked at him furtively. Seeing that Da Xiong wasn’t paying attention, she stood up swiftly, reached into the bag beside her, pulled out a black handbag, and quietly slipped out.

The corridor was bustling with staff of all kinds, but there were no stars in sight.

Bian Li made her way to the restroom, deliberately choosing a secluded spot. It was quieter here, shielded by a large potted plant—a perfect place to ensure privacy. After confirming that no one was around, she quickly shared her location with He Yunxing.

[Fei Fei Eats Pear]: I brought your coat. I’m here—check the location sharing. Can you come over? (Quietly, oh~)

He Yunxing replied almost instantly, his usual concise style shining through—

“Okay, wait for me.”

Seeing his response, Bian Li hugged the handbag to her chest and settled into her little corner behind the potted plant, waiting patiently.

Before long, boredom crept in, and she began playing with the floor tiles beneath her.

The tiles were painted in a mix of bold, unconventional colors—chaotic yet strangely artistic. She was just wondering why the gymnasium had such an eccentric design when she noticed a pair of black military boots stepping onto the colorful floor. The stark contrast was striking, almost surreal.

Above the boots were two long, straight legs clad in slim-fitting black trousers tucked into the boots, making the figure appear even taller and more imposing.

Then, her gaze traveled upward.

He Yunxing was dressed in a military-style uniform—the old aristocracy of Slyak’s ceremonial attire. It had a regal palace aesthetic, meticulously tailored with crisp right-angled shoulders that emphasized his sharp silhouette.

A sudden, inexplicable tightness settled in Bian Li’s chest. For a fleeting moment, she felt breathless at the sight before her—arrogant, domineering, heroic.

Her previous fleeting thoughts of attraction felt like mere child’s play compared to the overwhelming sensation crashing over her now.

She remained frozen in place.

He Yunxing raised a brow slightly, his voice crisp and clear. “Have you been waiting long?”

Bian Li snapped back to reality. “Oh… not long. You got here really fast.”

He Yunxing’s lips curved into a meaningful smirk. “I’m fast?”

Before Bian Li could decipher his words, a hushed argument drifted from the other side of the potted plant. Though the man and woman tried to keep their voices down, the tension between them was unmistakable.

The voices grew closer.

Bian Li’s heart nearly leaped into her throat. Without thinking, she grabbed He Yunxing and pulled him into the small corner with her.

Now, they were standing face-to-face—so close that if she tilted her head slightly and he lowered his, their cheeks would graze against each other.

The proximity was suffocating.

Bian Li could feel the faint warmth of He Yunxing’s breath against her lashes. It carried a familiar, subtle scent, stirring something in her memory.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, a chuckle rumbled from above her head. “Where’s my coat?”

Bian Li gestured toward the bag in her arms with her chin, whispering, “Here.”

He Yunxing reached out and took the handbag, just as he was about to say something when the argument beyond the potted plant took a sudden turn.

The hushed bickering had dissolved into something else—breathless, messy, uncontrollable.

Wild mandarin ducks.

Clearly, the couple thought they had found a secluded spot, and now they were getting lost in each other without realizing there were silent spectators just a few feet away.

He Yunxing stiffened for a second before glancing down.

Bian Li’s head was lowered, the soft pink hue creeping from the base of her neck to her cheeks. Even the curve of her bent neckline hinted at her shyness.

It was… unexpectedly cute.

Neither of them moved until the pair outside finally left.

He Yunxing reached out and patted her head lightly. “I’m leaving.”

Bian Li still didn’t look up. “…I washed the clothes, so you can wear them directly.”

A pair of cool fingers hooked under her chin, applying just enough pressure to tilt her face up.

He Yunxing’s gaze met hers. “Give me a good performance later.”

Then, just as quickly as it had come, the touch disappeared, as if it had never happened.

Bian Li stood there, watching his figure disappear around the corner before slowly raising a hand to touch the spot he had just held.

—

He Yunxing returned to the lounge, taking his time.

“Where’d you go? Took you long enough.” Ning Xuechu picked up a bottle of mineral water and took a long gulp before glancing at him lazily.

Then, as if by habit, he reached out toward the bag He Yunxing was carrying—