Chapter 880 - 879: You Are My Heart, You Are My Liver

Chen Song has been living comfortably lately. When she’s in a good mood, her talent as a top agent comes back, but somehow, she also picked up the habit of rambling on.

Just the phrase "warm milk," and she let her imagination run wild, thinking of everything from getting married to not getting married but being pregnant, marrying without pregnancy, not marrying and being pregnant but not telling her and getting caught by paparazzi...

She considered all the possibilities and took a look at how top agents in the entertainment industry handle such tricky news.

Mu Qiu was left speechless, repeatedly assuring her that there’ll only be marriage followed by pregnancy, and she’ll definitely inform her in advance.

After making the promise, she sat back and poked Cheng Zhirang’s waist, glaring at him.

She initially wanted to pinch him but felt it wasn’t appropriate since his colleagues were in the car.

Cheng Zhirang smiled at her, neither speaking nor dodging, letting her vent her frustration.

They got home around noon; Mu Qiu went upstairs to unpack, and Cheng Zhirang made simple shrimp wontons in the kitchen. They were sent by someone from the industry, quite a lot of them. Mu Qiu liked them, so he brought them here.

This meal was simple, done in ten minutes. He carried the bowl and called out, "Qiuqiu, come down for wonton."

Mu Qiu appeared at the staircase, phone pressed to her ear, "Just a minute, I’m on a call."

It was Qing Rong’s call.

These days are his book signing events, and due to a show and some other reasons, she couldn’t make it. Anyway, those two books were signed last time when Cheng Zhirang took them for signatures.

Unexpectedly, he called to ask if she would attend.

"Didn’t I ask Cheng Zhirang to take the books for signatures? I’m not going. Qing Rong, it’s not like this is your only book signing event. I’ll look at my schedule next time, should be able to attend."

Qing Rong laughed on the other end, lazy and indifferent, "Just casually letting someone bring a book for a signature and not coming? Last year you promised me differently, Mu Xiaohua."

Mu Qiu replied bluntly, "Come on, with our current relationship, should I eagerly run to your book signing event? My brain isn’t that addled."

"What’s our relationship? An open relationship, what’s stopping him from letting you come?"

"Hey, we’re not the married woman to a dark villain and first love scenario. Don’t say anything about him; it’s my decision not to go. As for the reasons, don’t pretend to be stupid; anyone with half a brain can understand."

Qing Rong: "So your promise to attend my book signing was just you joking around?"

"Back then we were netizens, friends. Ask yourself, are you treating me just like an ordinary netizen, an ordinary friend now? Right after silly rumors spread, and then show up to cheer you on—I don’t want to end up on entertainment headlines again."

There’s a muffled voice on the other end, but it’s unclear. Probably Qing Rong covering the phone to talk to someone.

After two seconds, his intensely teasing voice came back: "You’re calm. Got yourself a boyfriend and decisively drowned my little flame of love. But I can’t let go and had to try knocking into the post again."

Mu Qiu curled her lips, sitting on the small balcony, all thoughts on Cheng Zhirang and those delicious shrimp wontons.

"You talk very differently than when we were just online friends—playful and teasing. So let’s sort this out. May I boldly ask, when did you start liking me?"

The straightforward question took Qing Rong a moment to answer, "I’ve had a good impression from the start, especially after our first meeting. You wore that leather pink dress, just perfectly matched my taste."

"How interesting. That dress was chosen by Cheng Zhirang. If it matched your taste perfectly, you should go like Cheng Zhirang."

Qing Rong almost couldn’t speak, laughed out of anger.

"Who’s going to like him?!"

"You don’t like him? That’s fine; I do. You don’t genuinely like me; you just find our chats pleasant, my attire appealing. That’s just a one-time thing; love at first sight usually is just lust at first sight. I don’t want to juggle two relationships or keep a backup, and I trust you’re not that kind of person. Of course, if you are, then let’s pretend I said nothing; we’re probably no longer friends."

She said it casually, as if joking, but every word was true.

"Haha, the person who wrote market share and np novels is now a 1v1 supporter. Fine, won’t meddle in your romance again—it was my wishful thinking. But let me say one more thing: you claim my fleeting glance was lust, but didn’t you have lust for Cheng Zhirang too? No need to point fingers."

"...I really can’t argue with that."

Qing Rong: "...Listening to you is infuriating! I’m hanging up!"

He ended the call abruptly.

Mu Qiu touched her nose, put the phone down and went downstairs to eat.

Cheng Zhirang was there, reading a script at the dining table, both bowls of shrimp wonton ready.

"All done? Eat up. I also warmed up an eel rice ball for you; it’s in the microwave."

He didn’t seem curious about who she spoke to, but just sitting there saying those two sentences, he exuded the regal aura of a queen...ugh.

She decided to confess proactively.

"Qing Rong called just now asking if I’d attend his book signing event; I said I won’t go."

Cheng Zhirang brought out the rice ball and sat down again, "Then what?"

"Then, before he could say anything, I told him proactively, you are my heart, my liver, my three-quarters. I’m staying home to have sweet, honeyed romance with you, too busy to go anywhere."

"..."

He was stunned by her sudden cheesy words, his hand shaking as he ate the wonton.

Confronted by such direct verbal affection, what could he...

Cheng Zhirang looked down, smiled, and fed her a wonton with the spoon, "Alright, I know your love for me. Eat up."

Mu Qiu joyfully ate, biting into the eel rice ball, her mood untouched.

The afternoon indeed had the two curled up at home in romantic bliss, sprawled on the small balcony sofa, each doing their own thing, occasionally kissing, chatting when they were tired, snacking.

Cheng Zhirang had a wide knowledge base; Mu Qiu could start any conversation with him, and he picked up seamlessly without any perfunctory replies.

The long afternoon passed; they even rested head to head for a bit. When the sun wasn’t as hot anymore, Cheng Zhirang took her out for a bit of basketball.

She always missed the basket. Cheng Zhirang lifted her for the shots. Watching him score three-pointers, she wanted in, too. He taught her, but she still couldn’t get it. Turning, she threw the basketball at him.

Cheng Zhirang didn’t mind, spun the ball on his finger, coaxed her back; they ran around in the little yard until they were drenched in sweat. After drinking some water back inside, they weren’t in a rush to clean up; somehow they ended up tangled in kisses as the basketball rolled off to the corner of the living room.

Mu Qiu loved this feeling, matching her every romantic fantasy, giving her joy and comfort, so she replied with enthusiasm.

Love is so sweet; even the sunset outside the window no longer symbolizes desolation but transforms into a sugary sweet existence like an orange candy.