The money was recovered, and Yuan Li cried, her tears making her look like a weeping pear blossom. Li Fangfang took the money and sighed in relief. She didn’t say much more and apologized to Tian Shuyun, “I’m sorry, I wronged you.”

Tian Shuyun shook her head. Normally, she would have made a sarcastic comment, but to her surprise, it was Qin Yao who cleared her name. Just today, she had spoken ill of Qin Yao to Li Fangfang, saying she’d get fat again soon. Now she felt awkward and guilty.

Without Qin Yao’s help, Tian Shuyun would have been labeled a thief and could never clear her name.

This felt like a “narrow escape” to Tian Shuyun.

Tian Shuyun glared at Yuan Li and said she would report the incident to the authorities. But Li Fangfang, now soft-hearted, intervened, “Xiao Li made a mistake. Let’s give her a chance.”

Tian Shuyun huffed, then turned to Qin Yao and said sincerely, “Thank you. I really owe you one today.”

Qin Yao shook her head. “It’s enough to uncover the truth. The person who made the mistake should bear the responsibility. No one should be wronged.”

Qin Yao walked out, and at the door, Gu Cheng, who had been wearing a mask, witnessed the entire scene. The other girls didn’t recognize him, and the two of them left the building.

Gu Cheng recognized Tian Shuyun from the ship. He was surprised, “You’re still a ‘Qin Qing Tian^[1]“秦青天” (Qin Qing Tian) is a playful way of calling someone a “righteous judge” or “just person.” The term “青天” (Qing Tian) literally means … Continue reading’?”

“Aren’t you?” Qin Yao asked curiously.

Gu Cheng crossed his arms. “I’m not the type to join in on drama or be overly compassionate.”

Qin Yao laughed. “Then how did we meet?”

“Commander Gu, tell me, why do some little brothers love to stir things up? Throwing chalk pieces everywhere… No, not just throwing, but hitting the mark every time.”

Gu Cheng: “…”

“Before I came to the island, I met a very kind-hearted little brother who helped me carry my luggage during a rainstorm.”

The two of them walked to the bottom of the building. By now, night had fallen, and the world was veiled in a hazy gray mist. Mischievous clouds hid the moon’s eyes, allowing countless stars to emerge, seemingly arguing in the sky.

Qin Yao chuckled and commented playfully as she tilted her head to look at the heavens. The stars flickered in turns, as though they were engaged in a lively debate, each blink a point made in argument.

The particularly bright star to the north was undoubtedly the best debater.

Gu Cheng exhaled a warm breath and murmured to himself in a puzzled tone, “Why are some girls so shameless?”

“Being ten years younger, yet still calling yourself ‘big sister’.” Gu Cheng remarked, removing his hat and mask. His beautiful eyes curved into clean crescent shapes as he smiled, the soft hollows beneath them adding a youthful charm. “Sister, don’t you think you’re getting old? People dislike dating someone too old.”

“There’s a whole generational gap between us.”

His words, spoken in a playful tone, felt like bubbles bouncing into the air. Qin Yao instinctively covered her ears. If she had her smartphone with her, she might have considered dialing the police at this moment.

He sounded so flamboyant—too flamboyant, like a “male version” of a quirky tone she couldn’t quite place.

“Commander Gu, do you have baggage, or do you not?” she teased.

This man was a natural performer. Once they stepped into the darkness, he let himself go completely. Qin Yao suspected he had been repressing himself for too long, and now, when given the chance, he was letting loose more than anyone.

It was maddening. Qin Yao found herself lamenting her own ears, her own tastes. Why did she actually like this flamboyant tone? Why did she even want to hear more of it?

As she drifted into her thoughts, Qin Yao recalled the male performers in Beijing opera. Their raspy, alluring singing could captivate hearts, even hers.

Gu Cheng interrupted her musings. “You think I’m just joking with you?”

Qin Yao shook her head, thinking, This is what they call a generational gap, little brother Gu.

The two of them strolled hand in hand through the darkness. Gu Cheng felt a wave of happiness welling up inside him. Holding her hand and gazing at the stars reminded him of the nights they once spent on a ship, watching the stars together.

“They say couples should stargaze together,” he mused.

Gu Cheng had read countless poems about stars and the moon to come up with a few romantic lines of his own. But despite the storm of emotions within him now, he couldn’t summon the inspiration for a poetic outburst.

He swung Qin Yao’s hand lightly and gestured toward the sky. “Say something to match the scene.”

After a brief pause, Qin Yao teased him. “How about this: ‘We watch the stars argue in the sky together’?”

Gu Cheng: “…”

“Look over there,” she continued, her tone vivid and animated, her words brimming with humor. “That star is twinkling so fiercely—it must be slamming its fist on the table. And that one, it’s stopped twinkling. Do you think it’s feeling guilty now?”

Her lively description, spoken with a smile, was so engaging that it drew anyone into the moment.

Gu Cheng raised his brows. “You—”

The sea breeze gently brushed past the military harbor’s glowing night lights, rustled the slumbering banana leaves, and finally caressed their faces. Above them, the starry sky shimmered, forming a galaxy of light.

The stars overhead painted a dreamy picture. Gu Cheng had dreamt of scenes like this many times before, but this time he knew it wasn’t a dream. Standing beside him was a living, breathing person.

He hadn’t seen Qin Yao often, and their moments alone together were even rarer. They barely knew each other.

During their time apart, Gu Cheng couldn’t stop himself from longing for her. He used fleeting memories of her to imagine what she was like. In his dreams, she was beautiful, gazing at him aboard the ship, her eyes reflecting a starry sky.

But that was the dream Qin Yao. The real Qin Yao would point to the night sky and say:

“The stars above us are arguing.”

Her words were far from poetic, yet he found them irresistibly adorable.

The Qin Yao in his dreams was a stiff shadow puppet, a forgery frozen in a picture frame.

“What do you mean, ‘you’?” Qin Yao tilted her head to ask, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Compared to her earlier righteous indignation, her current conversation with Gu Cheng felt utterly trivial.

In truth, despite watching countless dramas and reading countless romance novels, she had never experienced a “real” relationship.

In college, a talented suitor had pursued her for years. Qin Yao agreed to date him, but there was no sweetness of love between them. Their relationship was polite and distant. He treated her like a goddess, believing “a fairy doesn’t drink water, pass gas, or use the toilet.” He looked at her in astonishment when she haggled with vendors over a few cents.

His attitude turned her into the “queen of elegance” despite her initial lack of pretensions.

But things were different with Gu Cheng. From their first meeting, she had already claimed the title of “comedy master.”

Pretensions? What pretensions?   

She didn’t ask, but deep down, she wondered why Gu Cheng had fallen for her. On that day aboard the ship, he seemed to dislike her, yet later his favorability soared. A kiss had even raised his fondness to new heights.

Qin Yao didn’t know the criteria behind this “favorability system.” To avoid bias, she stopped checking the so-called “favorability” unless someone was “difficult to distinguish between friend and foe” to her.

Her remark about stars arguing in the sky was, in a way, a reflection of her own turbulent heart.

Her emotions surged with a thousand different feelings. Love, she realized, was like a guessing game. She wondered why Gu Cheng liked her and pondered her own feelings for him.

When they were apart, she felt no longing and believed she could let go easily. But when they met again, her affection for him resurfaced uncontrollably. At the same time, she disliked his reactions and didn’t want to see him. Yet when he approached her again, she couldn’t help but respond.

Her emotions became a rollercoaster ride.

Which feelings were real? Which were false?

Her liking and dislike for him felt like a seesaw in a park—up and down, sometimes liking him, sometimes disliking him.

If she were to summarize her first failed love experience, Qin Yao once believed that there was no such thing as true love in this world. What people called “love” was merely a kind of imagination.

When someone matches your ideal image, you grow fond of them. But when you get to know them and realize they don’t meet your expectations, the illusion shatters.

— So, what exactly did this stinky little brother imagine her to be?

Qin Yao raised her hand and wiped Gu Cheng’s cheek, but she resisted her curiosity and decided to brush it aside.

She wasn’t sure how much Gu Cheng truly liked her. However, staying by his side, she could feel the warmth of his affection, which seemed to be above eighty percent.

That favorability might be increasing, or it might start to fade.

And when it’s all gone, he might stop liking her altogether.

Frustrating.

A man’s infatuation can be expressed, but a woman’s obsession cannot be revealed.

Qin Yao didn’t want to be the one drowning in the mire.

As her thoughts tangled in a chaotic mess, everything suddenly went dark. The wind that brushed against her moments ago disappeared, and in the next instant, the man beside her pulled her into his embrace.

This embrace made her feel like a helpless razor clam buried deep in the sand, suddenly dug out by a firm hand, leaving her nowhere to hide.

Qin Yao quipped, “Dating you feels like smelling seafood all the time.”

Gu Cheng froze. His brows furrowed as he tilted his head to sniff his shoulder. He didn’t catch any fishy scent. Spending days by the sea, wasn’t it normal to have a hint of ocean smell? Or was his nose failing him?

Was Qin Yao complaining that he stinks?

Commander Gu’s handsome face darkened immediately. If it were about his age, he could still try to act younger in private. But if she disliked the smell of the sea on him, what was he supposed to do? Start using scented balm or perfumed laundry detergent?

Men with a flowery fragrance were no real men.

A real man should smell of sweat, not seafood. Should he come to see her drenched in sweat next time?

Gu Cheng tightened his embrace around the woman in his arms. The good mood he had when he pulled her into his arms vanished in an instant. This picky and eccentric chubby girl didn’t mind his bad temper, but she minded his smell?

Annoyed, he pressed her head firmly against his neck. “Get used to the sea smell faster by inhaling more of it.”

Qin Yao gasped, “It’s even stronger now!”

“What seafood smell?!” Gu Cheng retorted grumpily, intending to nip her cheek in frustration. However, he accidentally caught a whiff of her scent—a sweet, milky fragrance like candy.

“Me.” Qin Yao, shorter than him, was pressed tightly against his neck as if she was being forced to “hang herself.”

At this point, if she wasn’t the razor clam, who else was?

Gu Cheng paused.

“Have you ever gone clamming at the beach? I feel like a poor little clam you’ve dug out from the sand.” Qin Yao struggled to push him away but couldn’t budge him at all. She really was like a helpless clam, entirely at his mercy.

“Commander Gu, can you smell the seafood on me? It’s fresh.”

Gu Cheng chuckled. “But I didn’t sprinkle any salt.”

When fishing for razor clams in the sea usually involved sprinkling salt near the breathing holes, though most people didn’t eat them often.

A smile spread uncontrollably across Gu Cheng’s face. His earlier bad mood lifted instantly as if propelled by a rocket. So, she wasn’t complaining about his smell after all.

He was overjoyed.