The two of them were practically glued together, and the heat between them kept rising.
Yet, He Yunxing remained completely unruffled. His gaze was lazy and unbothered, as if this posture was the most natural thing in the world.
Bian Li froze for two seconds before reacting like she had been scalded. She pushed against his shoulders, trying to get up, but in her panic, she moved clumsily. He Yunxing shifted slightly—perhaps unintentionally, perhaps not—and Bian Li, who had barely lifted herself halfway, lost her balance and fell again.
Back to square one.
Only this time, she landed even harder, the force pressing down in a way that made her acutely aware of the position she was in.
A low groan escaped He Yunxing’s lips.
Their eyes met. Bian Li’s face flushed at record speed, the embarrassment burning through her skin even in the dim lighting.
Her bright almond-shaped eyes, now carrying a hint of frustration, glared at him.
The seats around them were mostly empty, and no one else seemed to notice. But the two of them were making a scene of their own.
Ning Xuechu, who had been watching from the start, was completely stunned. He swallowed but found himself unable to say anything for a long time.
Bian Li bit her lip. The close contact left her limbs weak, her whole body feeling like jelly. If there were a hole in the ground right now, she would bury herself in it like an ostrich.
She had no intention of staying a second longer. The moment she broke free, she jumped up and away from him.
Before leaving, her breath still uneven, she suddenly recalled the words He Yunxing had whispered in her ear earlier.
“Throwing yourself into my arms, huh—do you like me?”
In his dreams.
Suppressing the burst of chaos in her chest, she took a deep breath, lowered her head, and before leaving, stomped down on his foot with force.
In He Yunxing’s perception, it was more of a light tap than a real kick. Instead of pain, the action sent an odd amusement through him—like the teasing flick of a cat’s tail.
Ning Xuechu was about to call after her. “Fei—” But before he could finish the word, he was forcefully cut off.
Watching Bian Li’s retreating figure as she fled in embarrassment, Ning Xuechu couldn’t help but feel a little emotional.
He turned to He Xuyi. “Did you trip her just now?”
He Xuyi, expression unreadable, shook his head immediately. “Nothing to do with me.”
Hearing this, Ning Xuechu clicked his tongue twice. So He Xuyi didn’t do it. That only left one other suspect.
He turned to He Yunxing, his voice filled with admiration. “Damn, boss, you’re so fucking coquettish. I really admire you.”
This had definitely been premeditated.
He Yunxing had been watching Gemini closely ever since the rehearsal began. Normally, at concerts and award shows, he never looked this serious when sitting among the artist section.
Still leaning lazily, one arm propping up his face, He Yunxing looked down slightly, his expression unreadable in the dim light.
Half his face was hidden in the shadows, but the curve of his lips betrayed a barely-there smirk.
Clearly, he was in a good mood.
At Ning Xuechu’s words, He Yunxing didn’t react much. He merely lifted his eyelids slightly, giving the vaguest of nods—silent, unreadable, yet undeniably deliberate.
That small acknowledgment sent Ning Xuechu into an even greater frenzy, like a hormonal teenage boy seeing his favorite idol up close.
“You nodded? You actually nodded?” In the past, whenever the topic of Bian Li came up, He Yunxing was tighter-lipped than a government secret. But now he actually nodded? That was practically a confession.
Everything Ning Xuechu had suspected was being confirmed in real time.
He Yunxing, ignoring his excitement, casually pulled out his phone. His long fingers swiped across the screen as he muttered, “You can talk louder if you want.”
Ning Xuechu, realizing his own volume, instinctively lowered his voice. Still, he sounded gossipy. “But being coquettish is one thing. Whether she pays attention to you is another. Didn’t you see how mad Fei Fei was when she ran off?”
This thought comforted him.
Bian Li was truly worthy of being the little sister he admired. When facing a guy of He Yunxing’s level, the correct response wasn’t to cry, beg, or spiral into self-pity. It was to run as far as possible.
After speaking, he waited for a response, but He Yunxing remained silent.
Huh?
Not excited enough?
Confused, Ning Xuechu leaned over and caught a glimpse of He Yunxing’s phone screen.
Though the brightness was low, it wasn’t hard to see what was on display.
A photo album.
As He Yunxing scrolled, frame after frame of images slid past.
The protagonist in each photo was focused on the same person—
Bian Li.
Ning Xuechu could hardly recognize himself after the endless shocks he had experienced today. He was even more puzzled and surprised to uncover this unknown side of He Yunxing.
“Am I blind? Why don’t you go sign up for Tokyo Women’s Magazine? You look like a pervert.” He leaned forward, attempting to get a better look at the clarity of the photos He Yunxing had secretly taken, only to be blocked.
He Yunxing slowly closed the album app and turned to him sideways. “What are you doing?”
“You’re asking me? I should be the one asking you—what exactly are you doing?” Ning Xuechu snorted heavily.
He Yunxing didn’t seem surprised. His knuckles moved slightly as he tapped at his phone screen, his actions unreadable.
“You’re truly something else,” Ning Xuechu huffed. “Even if you ignore me, I still have to remind you—Fei Fei won’t buy into your tricks.” He shook his arms dramatically, making a solemn conclusion.
He Yunxing seemed to give the statement some serious thought. Then, in an unusual move, he responded quickly, “What do you mean?”
Ning Xuechu, unaccustomed to not being ignored, instantly perked up like a puppy getting its fur smoothed, his temper improving. “You have to coax and pamper her. How can you bully a little girl like that?”
That trip just now, the teasing—it was too much.
Bian Li had been so shy and embarrassed she nearly slapped He Yunxing in the face, yet he looked like he was enjoying it.
Even though Ning Xuechu had tried to hold back, he still found his boss a bit pitiful.
After thinking for a moment, he leaned forward and whispered a few words into He Yunxing’s ear.
Standing beside them, He Xuyi sneered, “Ning Xuechu, with your mediocre skills, how could anyone take you seriously?”
Ning Xuechu grinned. “You believed me last time, didn’t you? Don’t blame me if you fail.”
—
As Ruan Xiangyi dug through the details, Bian Li kept getting distracted, her thoughts slipping away.
“What’s wrong with you? Why are you so hot?” Ruan Xiangyi glanced at Bian Li’s red face, puzzled.
Under normal training intensity, she shouldn’t be this exhausted.
Hearing this, Bian Li’s face burned even hotter.
She was utterly helpless—her blood was practically flowing in reverse, every cell in her body clamoring and dancing.
They kept reminding her of what had just happened.
Forcing herself to suppress the chaotic emotions surging inside, Bian Li took a deep breath and feigned calmness. “Ah, I’m fine, don’t worry about me, Ruan Ruan. Keep talking.”
Ruan Xiangyi pinched her cheek, still skeptical. “Just hold on a little longer. After New Year’s Eve, you should get a break.”
Bian Li nodded absentmindedly, but her thoughts had already drifted away.
She and He Yunxing had been so close just now—closer than ever before.
She could even feel the faint tension of his lean muscles, the strength in his legs, his broad shoulders, the warmth of his breath skimming both sides of her face—so close, so intimate.
Her mind was in complete chaos. Her face burned as though a storm had ignited beneath her skin, glowing red like a lantern.
Forcing herself to snap out of it, Bian Li grabbed Ruan Xiangyi and Ying Xuelai’s hands—one in each of hers—and looked at them pitifully.
“Please… pinch me… oooohhh, I feel so uncomfortable…”
Ruan Xiangyi was stunned. Even Ying Xuelai, who was usually indifferent, raised an eyebrow, a flicker of suspicion in her gaze.
Bian Li groaned in frustration. “Just treat me like a lunatic…”
—
After He Yunxing’s antics, the uncertainty in Bian Li’s heart had only grown stronger.
And yet, something had also begun to surface—something that had long been buried, finally sprouting, growing upward toward the light.
Her premonition had never felt so strong.
After rehearsal, she typed that scalding hot name into the search bar.
As one of the most famous figures in the industry, He Yunxing was considered a role model—his record clean, with no ambiguous scandals.
But that was just him. He was naturally too lazy to entertain any.
He never followed industry rules or frameworks.
He didn’t like socializing, and it showed—he kept an almost absurd distance from female artists. The same went for male artists.
One key difference from traditional idols was that he never spoke sweet words, never let fans intrude on his private life, and, most of the time, never took anyone seriously.
If he were just an ordinary idol, he would have been long abandoned by those self-proclaimed god-tier fans—left in the dust, forgotten.
But the fervor of his fanbase, the sheer magnitude of his influence, once again proved that it wasn’t about the person but the phenomenon itself. He Yunxing was a miracle in the industry—the exception to every rule, the impossibility made possible, a god that people worshiped and envied in equal measure.
Bian Li scrolled through endless comments about him, her mind echoing with the seemingly sincere words He Yunxing had said to her.
Her hands lifted to her cheeks, and once again, she was lost in her own emotions.
Because she was constantly preoccupied with other thoughts, she found herself feeling inexplicably guilty, and whenever she crossed paths with He Yunxing backstage, she would instinctively avoid him.
Not to mention avoiding eye contact—Bian Li would bolt at the first sign of trouble, running faster than a startled rabbit the moment she spotted him.
She was furious with herself. After all, he was the one who provoked her first—so why was she the one dodging now?
But when you’re busy, thoughts and feelings rise and fall like the tide, leaving only the faintest traces behind.
The rehearsals had lasted the entire night, and Bian Li had been with her team the whole time, not even getting a chance to rest.
Even a single moment to catch her breath felt like a luxury.
Since they had rushed overnight, everyone was on high alert, the three girls completely focused, unwilling to let their guard down.
When the live performances ended successfully, Bian Li finally let out a sigh of relief.
There was still some time left before midnight, and the next segment was an interaction between the hosts and the audience.
Each artist took turns stepping onto the stage before eventually gathering together, waiting for the clock on the big screen to tick down to the new year.
As a newly debuted idol group, Gemini knew their place. Compared to the industry’s long-established veterans, their status was still low, so they sensibly positioned themselves toward the back row.
The three girls huddled together, leaning on each other, waiting for the minutes to slip by.
A new year, a fresh start—everyone’s faces carried some trace of expectation.
Three minutes left until midnight.
Bian Li, restless, took a step to the side toward the large electronic screen displaying the countdown in bright colors. The numbers ticked down precisely to the second.
As soon as she turned her head, she felt a slight tug on her twin ponytails.
Bian Li blinked and looked up—her hair was being played with again.
He Yunxing hooked the ends of her ponytails between his fingers, gently twirling them into a loop. His voice was low, teasing. “Why are you avoiding me again? Am I that scary?”
Bian Li pursed her lips. “…Don’t touch my hair.”
She still hadn’t settled the score with him for last night’s rehearsal.
He Yunxing obediently let go, his lips curving into a quiet laugh.
Bian Li had seen him smile many times, but never like this.
Against the dazzling colors of the backdrop, he tilted his head slightly, looking at her with that smile.
From the big screen, the countdown echoed through the venue.
Sound waves rippled through the air, the music rising and falling.
The entire stage was alive with celebration—the cheers of the crowd, the warm well-wishes floating in waves. Artists hugged each other in greeting for the new year, joy spilling into every corner.
And amidst it all, He Yunxing leaned in, his voice a whisper just for her.
Low and husky, like the wind weaving through deep forests and vast oceans, carrying the weight of mountains and the fleeting touch of sand—
“Happy New Year.”
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