Starlight Descends - 9

Moonlight

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Meanwhile, next door, three people sat on the sofa, surrounding a dog.

Yu Jiashu sprawled against the backrest, relaxed and casual. He had pulled a book over his face to block the light, eyes closed as he dozed. The German Shepherd curled quietly at his feet, tongue lolling.

The other two exchanged subtle, complicated glances.

Da Bai: "So what's the deal? She doesn't want the dog anymore? Just… dumped it here?"

Zhou Qi: "...No way. Maybe she just left it here to mooch some food?"

Da Bai: "What food do we even have? And did you see how fast she left? Like she couldn't wait to get rid of it. I think she's been putting up with this dog for way too long."

Zhou Qi: "She wouldn't... I mean, the dog's dumb, but it's still hers. She calls it husband, for god's sake. Should we take it back?"

"No, no, no!" Da Bai waved a hand with profound authority. "It's been almost three hours and she hasn't come looking. It's gotta be on purpose. High probability she doesn't want it back. Let your bro keep it."

The bro in question was visibly losing patience. His long fingers gripped the edge of the book and pulled it down, revealing a face caught between exhaustion and irritation.

He glanced at the dog, then said flatly, "And why am I the one keeping it?"

"Shu, drop the act." Da Bai shook his head with a sigh. "Your big bro here has you all figured out. Tell the truth, you've had your eye on her for a long time, haven't you?"

Yu Jiashu: "?"

Zhou Qi: "???"

Da Bai crossed his legs, settling into a lordly lounge, one foot jiggling with knowing ease. "When I was smoking in the study earlier, knowing she was out here and hates the smell, you made me wait a full half hour before coming out. If that's not love, what is?"

"I've never seen you be so considerate toward a girl." Da Bai slapped his thigh. "Confess! Did you already know her? Come clean with your big bro."

Zhou Qi was stunned. His eyes darted between the two men and the dog, mouth falling open.

Yao-mei... hated cigarette smoke?

No fan could possibly know every detail of their idol's preferences, especially when Qi Yao had never hinted at this publicly.

She just didn't smoke herself. On set or at dinners when people lit up around her, she was always composed, betraying not a trace of emotions.

So how did he know?

Had he been secretly...

Zhou Qi frowned, then slapped his thigh. "Yeah, confess!"

Yu Jiashu: "..."

"Not liking cigarette smoke is normal."

He glanced down at the magazine in his hand. By coincidence, it was the issue Qi Yao had shot for her debut.

Her peach blossom eyes curved faintly, serene and striking, the beauty mark at the corner of her right eye lending a delicate charm.

His fingers brushed, almost absently, over that beauty mark on the glossy page. Then he set the magazine neatly back on the table.

"Normal, sure. But for you to know, and to actually care? That's absolutely not normal. And you even made me suffer for it. That's next-level not normal." Da Bai was indignant.

Yu Jiashu cleared his throat. "Fang Qian, Bai Pangpang smoked two cigarettes in the study today."

The woman with big waves and red lipstick immediately poked her head out from the kitchen, eyebrows shooting up. "What?!"

Da Bai: "..."

Before the interrogation could continue, Yu Jiashu reached down, patted the German Shepherd, and stood, leash already in hand.

The dog trotted obediently after him.

The man's posture was tall and straight, his suit pants crisp, his demeanor lazy yet refined.

He pulled open the heavy security door, ignoring the barrage behind him. "I'm returning the dog."

He might as well have had "I can't be bothered with you people" written across his face.

Zhou Qi and the silenced Da Bai exchanged glances, eyes gleaming with unmistakable suspicion.

Something is definitely up. 

Fang Qian, not yet free to deal with the smoker, hurried out of the kitchen, shot Da Bai a vicious glare, and pressed a food container into Yu Jiashu's hand.

"Take this to Yao-mei."

***

The vast living room fell quiet.

Qi Yao rushed to speak before Ye Qingman could react. "I'll go get him right n—"

The words had barely left her mouth when a knock sounded at the door.

Three unhurried, measured knocks, then silence. 

Qi Yao flipped her phone face-down, as if that somehow could mute Ye Qingman's outrage, and hurried to the door.

The man outside had a cool, detached expression. He hadn't changed, still in his white shirt and black trousers, the outfit made him seem aloof and unapproachable. 

But when he spoke, that distance dissolved.

"So..."

Yu Jiashu held the leash loosely, glanced at the dog, then back at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Are you abandoning your husband, or your son?"

Qi Yao: "..."

"No, I just plain forgot."

She took the leash, fingers curling around it. After a pause, she added, "It's not actually my dog. That's why things keep… happening."

Yu Jiashu nodded.

They stood there in silence. One inside, one outside. A dog between them, ears perked, tongue lolling.

Qi Yao, who'd rushed to the door with her empty glass still in hand, hesitated. She shook the glass lightly and, after a moment's wavering, invited him in.

"...Do you want to come in for a bit?"

Qi Yao hadn't moved in much earlier than Zhou Qi.

She had spent the first half of the year buried in two back-to-back productions, with barely any breaks, never even returning to C City. She'd seen this apartment exactly twice: once for a quick viewing, and now.

The floor plan was identical to the unit across the hall, a nearly two hundred square meters flat. The living room was done in a minimalist Nordic style, soft cream tones dominating the space.

A marble-textured breakfast bar curved around half the dining area. Beside it stood a wine cabinet filled to the brim, bottles arranged in a gradient from deep amber to clear glass. It was a setup that spoke of both use and taste. A treadmill sat tucked into a corner.

At a glance, Yu Jiashu could sense the soft, lived-in warmth woven into the details of her home.

"Qi Yao! Did you bring a strange man home?!"

A female voice suddenly burst from the phone lying face-down on the bar counter.

"I heard that, aaahhh! Turn me over right now! I need to see what kind of man could make you abandon your best friend!"

"How can you be so casual about this? What about your ten-year White Moonlight?!"

Qi Yao's heart lurched. Her temples throbbed. She lunged for the phone, flipping it over and ending the call in one desperate motion.

Her scalp prickled as she clutched the phone and turned to gauge his reaction.

Yu Jiashu's eyebrow lifted slightly. There was the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. His fingers tapped twice against the food container, the crisp sound cutting through the air.

...So he had heard.

And he wasn't even pretending otherwise.

"Have a seat," Qi Yao said, swallowing her panic, forcing calm into her voice.

Never had she imagined the first guest in her new home would be him, not Ye Qingman, not Qiao Nian, but him.

Perhaps because they weren't close, Yu Jiashu didn't tease her.

His expression settled back into its usual lazy detachment as he dropped onto the fabric sofa in a loose slouch, the cushions dipping slightly under his weight.

"From Fang Qian," he said, sliding the food container toward her.

Qi Yao opened it to find freshly made strawberry daifuku—plump, white, still soft and warm, dusted with a light coating of glutinous rice flour.

"Thank you," Qi Yao said.

"There are egg tarts in the oven," she added, checking the time. "They should be ready in about ten minutes. Could you take some back with you?"

It was nearly ten, too late for a proper neighborly visit with all the inevitable pleasantries and polite refusals. It would be troublesome.

Yu Jiashu gave a vague nod.

Qi Yao pressed her lips together, fingers curling slightly. "Can I get you something to drink?"

She was still crouched beside the coffee table, having just opened the container.

Her slender figure folded there, light chestnut hair falling in a smooth cascade. Her back straight, her neck long and elegant. Relaxed, effortlessly beautiful.

From where he sat, Yu Jiashu could see her profile clearly—the delicate slope of her nose, her long dark lashes fluttering like butterfly wings about to take flight.

Her peach blossom eyes were soft, a deep, gentle brown.

He suddenly recalled Da Bai's earlier question: were all celebrities naturally confident from childhood?

No, he thought. Not all of them.

But she had grown into herself. That was enough.

Yu Jiashu looked up at her, pausing briefly. For some reason, the words “anything's fine” on the tip of his tongue came out differently.

"Moonshine."

The air stilled.

Qi Yao paused. "...Are you sure?"

It was a strong whiskey. And besides—

Yu Jiashu didn't answer. He only looked at her, one eyebrow slightly raised. The message was clear: unwilling to share?

She lowered her gaze and stood, her expression tightening slightly as she moved behind the bar.

She did have two bottles of Moonshine. A sweet North American whiskey, high in proof but not rare enough to begrudge.

But the more common name for this drink was "Moonlight Wine"…

...as in the moonlight of a White Moonlight.

Qi Yao opened the fridge, letting the cold air wash over her face, and fought to clear her mind of stray thoughts. She didn't want to dwell on why he had specifically chosen that drink.

Reading too much into things is a dangerous game.

Clear liquid filled the glass, its intoxicating fragrance blooming softly. Ice cubes clinked against the sides with a crisp sound.

"Thanks."

Yu Jiashu reached out to take it.

He didn't particularly want to go home, nor return next door to face another round of interrogation. But he also didn't want to make things awkward for her. He had planned to exchange a few words and leave.

Then his gaze caught on the documents spread across the coffee table.

"You're researching Fengxing?" he asked, one eyebrow lifting.

Qi Yao was caught off guard. "Ah." She nodded. "Yes. I'm preparing to pitch for their endorsement."

Yu Jiashu looked momentarily surprised, the corner of his mouth tilting upward. "Are you allowed to tell me that?"

Each year, when Fengxing launched a new product line, countless artists competed for the endorsement. It was one of the few brands that didn't prioritize current popularity rankings.

Fengxing also kept its candidate list confidential, protecting artists' privacy. All the public ever saw was the final victor.

So no matter their status, before results were announced, no one would openly admit they were in the running.

If even standard brand deals could fall through before being finalized, let alone a process as unpredictable as this one.

"I guess," Qi Yao said, unconcerned. "I have done my best. Nothing to be embarrassed about."

Fair enough.

Yu Jiashu nodded.

His gaze drifted past her, landing on a specific item buried beneath the stack of documents. A gilt-edged cover, colors still vivid, carefully preserved.

"So why are you reading a report on Jingfan Tech?"

He asked quietly, eyes still lowered.

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