Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
Before going upstairs, Bo Yan had been clutching his phone.
After a moment of thought, he tapped to unlock it. He looked at the screen for a while, then opened WeChat, and pulled up the conversation with her.
In fact, Xia Siyu had sent him over a hundred messages, most of which were voice notes:
“Bo Yan, you jerk, a complete jerk!”
“Bo Yan, can’t you control your damn fans? What have I done to you, eaten your family’s rice? -—0h wait, that’s wrong, I did eat your family’s rice. Can’t you leash your dog? Always letting it run wild?”
“Haha, it’s okay, let them curse. After all, they’ve cursed my whole family, but isn’t my family you? What a drama, family fighting family.”
Bo Yan, holding his phone, wasn’t particularly moved by Xia Siyu’s last message saying “Husband, say something,” but the word “family” made him pause for a long while, his usually cold eyes softening slightly.
The elevator ‘dinged’ as it arrived at the floor. Bo Yan looked up, withdrawing the warmth from his eyes. As the door opened, he was about to put his phone back in his pocket when his finger accidentally touched her voice message. Then, Xia Siyu’s raucous voice instantly floated out: “Bo Yan, you bastard…”
Bo Yan’s eyes flashed with rare panic. He quickly turned off the phone and stuffed it into his pocket. As he stepped out, his gaze regained composure, pretending as though nothing had happened, he entered, changed his shoes.
Xia Siyu’s high heels were still kicked off haphazardly. He hesitated for a moment, then bent down to tidy her shoes and placed them beside his own leather shoes.
By the entryway, there was a suitcase—it must belong to her.
The room was dark and still, with the curtains undrawn, exposing the multitude of lights from outside pouring through the window.
And just upon entering, he smelled a strong scent of alcohol.
Bo Yan frowned, initially suspecting she might be sleeping in the bathtub again, but it turned out she was drunk. Did she not know she had to start shooting tomorrow, that she was joining the cast? Even disregarding how bad
it was to be drunk, she had a propensity to swell up; her face would definitely be puffy for tomorrow’s shoot.
He extended his hand, about to turn on the light when he noticed some movement on the sofa.
He withdrew his hand and walked further in, towards the sofa.
On the sofa, Xia Siyu was resting. She lay there quietly, covered with a blanket.
Bo Yan’s eyes swept over and saw a notebook on the table beside her, which he assumed was the script he had given her last time. Just as he was about to pick it up and put it away, he saw it was a schedule for a reality show.
Bo Yan set the schedule aside. Just as he was about to stand up and leave, the person on the sofa stirred.
Xia Siyu liked to drink, but her tolerance was poor—half a bottle of red wine and she was down. She must have been sleep-talking now, shifting into a more comfortable position, but as she moved, the thin blanket fell to the floor.
Bo Yan looked on for a moment, but in the end, he bent down, picked up the blanket, and gently covered her with it.
No sooner had he covered her with the blanket than the slight noise seemed to disturb the person in deep slumber. She slowly opened her eyes.
By chance, she found herself face to face with Bo Yan, who had just covered her with the blanket.
Bo Yan paused, not expecting her to suddenly wake up at this time. His eyes flickered to avoid hers, “l didn’t…
Unexpectedly, Xia Siyu let out a soft grunt: “Jerk.”
Bo Yan’s gaze instantly turned cold, and he was about to reply when Xia Siyu murmured again, “Why did you come so late?”