She debuted after having a child with a celestial being.

Back in her room, Liu Yifei closed the door, leaned against it, and stood there with her eyes closed for a long time.

The warmth of the kiss still lingered on my lips.

It's not the forehead, it's not the cheek, it's the lips.

And just like that, the two of them couldn't help but start slapping each other?

She raised her hand and gently touched her lower lip with her fingertips.

I'm actually a little unsatisfied?

She threw herself onto the bed, buried her face in the pillow, and unconsciously kicked the blankets twice with her legs.

Oh my goodness.

I, Liu Yifei, have finally met my match.

She turned over and stared at the crystal chandelier on the ceiling.

The light shines through the crystal facets, breaking into tiny spots, like Han Dong breaking down the last notes of her voice into individual musical notes in a recording studio.

When that brat's hand slipped under her clothes, his palm pressed against the few inches of skin on her waist, it felt as hot as a branding iron.

She had pressed down on his wrist at the time, but now, looking back, she regrets it.

It's not that I regret holding him down, it's that I regret not letting him stay a little longer.

She turned over, rolled the blanket into a long strip, and hugged it to her arms.

What's going on? I have this urge to just go along with him. We've already kissed and hugged, so what's the big deal?

Besides, we're all adults.

I'm not a college student anymore.

Besides, didn't you want to have children?

Now this dream can come true!

No, Liu Yifei, wake up! You're five years older than him, you're the older sister, how can you get carried away before him?

But that kiss, that hug, that hand that slipped under her clothes—every frame replayed before my eyes, like the sound engineer pushing her breathing into the monitor speakers, layer upon layer.

Frustrated, she pulled the blanket over her face and muttered "You brat!" before laughing at herself.

She sat up and looked at herself in the makeup mirror.

She was without makeup, her hair was messy, and her cheeks were still flushed.

She reached out and touched her face, her fingertips sliding from her cheekbone to her jawline, and suddenly smiled at herself in the mirror.

The phrase "a young girl in love" startled her when it popped into her head.

She debuted at fifteen, became a legend at eighteen, was called a fairy sister at twenty, and was called box office poison at thirty. There was never a place for the phrase "young girl in love" in between.

Her parents divorced when she was five, and her mother raised her alone, traveling from Wuhan to New York, from New York to Beijing, and from Beijing to Hollywood, always on the move.

While other teenagers were secretly writing love letters, she was suspended by wires.

While other students were dating in college, she was memorizing English lines on set.

By the time she finally stopped to look at herself, the entire internet was already calling her box office poison.

To put it bluntly, her romantic history consisted of only one relationship in name only. The official announcement of the relationship with that person was a mutually beneficial public relations operation from beginning to end. After the relationship ended, she breathed a sigh of relief and felt that she no longer needed to pretend.

But now, sitting on this bed, touching her burning cheeks in front of the mirror, she suddenly realized that it wasn't love at all.

Today, at this moment, this is it.

My heart will race, my face will turn red, and after being kissed, I'll hide in my room, bury my face in the pillow, and kick off the covers.

She needs to talk to someone, otherwise she won't be able to sleep tonight.

I picked up my phone and scrolled to Shuchang's WeChat.

The conversation between the two stopped last week—Shu Chang asked when the new song would be released, and she said soon.

Liu Yifei typed a few words, then deleted them, then typed them again, and finally sent only three words: "Are you asleep?"

Shu Chang replied instantly: "No. Why aren't you asleep yet at this hour?"

"I can't sleep."

"Something on your mind?"

Liu Yifei lay on her side in bed, staring at the screen. She typed "yes" and deleted it, then typed "no" and deleted it again, finally typing "hmm." Then she added, "Something happened today."

Shu Chang responded with a series of question marks, asking what happened and whether it was that person who did it.

Liu Yifei held her phone up to her face and typed several versions before finally finishing.

"He kissed me. This time it wasn't the kind that happens in the parking lot. It was a serious kiss. He even—he even put his hand inside."

Shu Chang responded with five exclamation marks, and then pressed her to tell her how she responded and whether she pushed him away.

Liu Yifei pulled the blanket up to her chin, hesitating for a long time before replying: "I—I responded. I hugged him. Then he put his hand inside. I held it back—but not because I didn't want to. It was because it was too fast, I was scared."

Shu Chang sent a voice message, her voice carrying the languidness and excitement unique to late at night, saying, "Congratulations, Qianqian—this is true love."

To be precise, this was the first time someone had captured her heart, allowing her to rediscover the joy of girlhood.

After listening to the voice message, Liu Yifei bit her lip and sent a voice message back, asking what "return" meant.

How can you talk like that? She's just a young girl, okay?

Shu Chang then sent a voice message, laughing and saying that she was indeed a young girl, the one who kicked her legs in bed for the first time since her debut at the age of fifteen, and added a comment—"How is your kissing skill, little brother?"

Liu Yifei buried her face in the pillow for several seconds before replying in a muffled voice message: "It's okay. No—it's good. No—I don't know, my mind was blank at the time."

Shu Chang smiled very gently on the other end of the microphone and said that it's right to have a blank mind; if your mind isn't blank, that's acting.

Liu Yifei recalled that soft yet unsettling touch, her voice slightly nasal as she said she was terrified and her hands were shaking.

Shu Chang gently told her that a racing heart and sweaty palms are signs of being moved.

Fearing while simultaneously drawing closer—that's what it means to be ensnared.

She asked Sisi what she planned to do.

Liu Yifei paused for a moment and said she didn't know.

Shu Chang then said she didn't know.

There's no need to rush to define it with labels like "siblings" or "girlfriend." Just ask yourself if you want to continue.

If he reaches out again, don't rush to press down on him.

If you're worried, just tell him to take it slow; he's willing to wait anyway.

"So, Miss Sissi, admit it—you've fallen for her."

Liu Yifei did not deny it.

She turned over and looked out the window at the ground lights on the lawn in the backyard. The warm yellow halo of light shone quietly in the night, like a hand giving her a thumbs-up from the other side of the soundproof glass in a recording studio.

Yes, it seems we've really fallen for it.

An hour later, she sent another message from her heart, saying that she had deliberately changed into her pajamas and walked around in front of him in the living room, but he didn't come to hug her.

She asked him if he couldn't understand the hint, and wondered if he should put on his cooler pajamas and go for another walk.

As soon as she sent the message, she blushed. When she pressed the back of her hand to her cheek, her fingertips were burning hot. Only one thought remained in her mind: Oh my god, is this still me, Liu Yifei?

Shu Chang responded with a long string of laughter, saying, "Princess Sissi, you're no longer the fairy sister. The fairy sister doesn't care whether she's dressed cool enough or not."

This is called a young girl in love; congratulations on returning to eighteen years old.

Liu Yifei placed her phone face down on the bedside table and stared at the ceiling, her heart pounding as if she had just run fifty meters.

Yes, she finally admitted it. It's not that she doesn't want to be in a relationship; it's that she hasn't met the person who makes her want to be in a relationship.

Now she's met him, and he just happens to be a brat five years younger than her.

Aaaaaaahhhhh? What do I do, what do I do, what do I do?

More than an hour ago, she deliberately pushed open the bedroom door and walked into the living room.

She changed into a silk slip dress, covered it with a loose knitted cardigan, let her hair down over her shoulders, and walked barefoot on the floor.

Xiao He sat on the sofa, organizing the track files for his new song on his laptop. The screen light shone on his face as his fingers slid across the touchpad. He looked up when he saw her come out.

"Sis, still not asleep?"

"Hmm, I can't sleep. What are you doing?"

"I'm reorganizing the tracks. Lao Zhou suggested moving the chorus harmony to the last measure of the verse, and I'm working on it."

She said "oh," walked over to him and stood next to him for a few seconds, pretending to look at the waveform of the audio track on the screen, her hair brushing against the back of his hand.

He turned his head and continued dragging the audio track.

That's just how my little brother is; once he gets into work mode, he's incredibly dedicated.

How hateful, how hateful! Even I, Liu Yifei, have met this day.

She went back to her room.

The door closed, and I leaned against it, a strange feeling welling up inside me.

Why didn't he come over and hug her? Just over an hour ago, he dared to put his hand inside her clothes in the kitchen. How come he's become such a good little brother now?

She looked down at her silk nightgown and cardigan—was she not dressed warmly enough?

Should I take off my cardigan, wear a slip dress, and go for a walk outside?

No, that would be too obvious.

She grabbed the hem of her nightgown and pulled it down a little, then pulled it a little more.

Good heavens, is this really me, Liu Yifei? Staying up late at night plotting how to seduce my younger brother.

No, he's my brother, but why didn't I remember he was my brother when he kissed me just now?

Looking at her still-flushed face in the mirror, her heart felt like it was being soaked in warm water, warm and itchy, yet powerless.

When she said she "couldn't sleep," she actually hoped he would stand up and pull her into his arms, but he didn't. What an idiot.