Chapter 31
Slightly Sweet You（01）
Chapter 31
It was night—a night destined to be another sleepless one for Mu He. Her mind kept turning over the question she had asked Xi Heng: “Are you… also one of the common people?” What exactly did his response in Russian mean?
At that moment, he had been so close, almost whispering in her ear. Mu He could sense the atmosphere growing ambiguous—though it was possible it was all in her imagination. Perhaps he was teasing her on purpose?
But she hadn’t understood a single word. No matter how she pressed him afterward, he refused to tell her.
It was utterly maddening.
After counting nine hundred and ninety-nine sheep without falling asleep, Mu He decided: she had to learn Russian. She absolutely could not let language be a barrier between them!
In fact, there was a Russian phrase she had wanted to learn for a long time. Unlocking her phone, she searched: Russian “I love you.”
Like a lovesick young girl, she hid under her blanket, softly pronouncing the transliteration she had found online: “Ya lyu-blyu te-bya…”
Over and over, tirelessly.
Audrey Hepburn had said: “I certainly won’t try to reach for the moon; I want the moon to come to me.”
Xi Heng said: “Usually, they’re the ones who pursue.”
Zhong Li Fei said: “Give it a try, Yang Yang.”
As a girl, Mu He naturally hoped her beloved would come to her—but this was Xi Heng.
If she could eventually reach the moon, even if it meant piercing clouds and stars, enduring countless hardships, what would it matter?
She had lived twenty-two years and only liked this one man.
Like a seed dormant for years, awakened by the gentle spring breeze, taking root, sprouting, breaking through the soil, growing in the wind, each branch blossomed with pure, joyful flowers.
Mu He was once again troubled: how should she pursue him?
She had absolutely no experience in this area.
Moreover, she was at a peak in her career—would her company even allow her to be in a relationship?
The engagement arranged by Xi Heng’s elders was also a major problem.
She had to think it through carefully.
On the 29th, celebrities invited to the Strawberry Channel New Year’s Eve Gala arrived in A City one after another. The airport was packed with fans from every direction, a scene unprecedented, even attracting security personnel.
Mu He’s last rehearsal was scheduled for the following afternoon. She wasn’t idle at the moment—she was in the company’s music classroom reviewing and filling in gaps with her teacher. Though she wasn’t a professional singer and the requirements couldn’t be too high, this was her first appearance on such a grand occasion. Moreover, Evening in the Suburbs of Moscow held a special meaning for her. She only wished to perform flawlessly, with a clear conscience.
Ye Xi took some time to come by and went over the program flow with Mu He again, informing her: “We just received notice. Your red carpet segment has been canceled.”
Before Mu He could speak, Tan Mian exclaimed: “What? How could this happen?!”
Could it be that someone pulled strings behind the scenes to take the spot?
Haha, lacking true talent, relying on family money to create an illusion of fame, yet thinking they can compete fairly? Only sneaky tactics, huh?
Tan Mian rolled up her sleeves, looking ready to confront someone: “This is a direct slap to Xing Yu’s face.”
This time, she really jumped to conclusions.
Ye Xi didn’t intend to hide it from Mu He, pointing to the ceiling and lowering her voice: “It’s a decision from above.”
Alright, Tan Mian obediently shut her mouth.
Mu He didn’t have a deep attachment to the red carpet. She had even worried that wearing that thin dress there would leave her shivering, so hearing the company’s arrangement, she secretly breathed a sigh of relief. No need to freeze.
Tan Mian, however, saw it differently. The red carpet! So many actresses fought tooth and nail to get there, and now it’s canceled. But as just a small assistant, what could she do?
She turned to comfort Mu He: “Yang Yang, it’s just the red carpet. If we don’t go, we don’t go. Our gorgeous dresses can be saved for a big surprise!”
Mu He smiled, poking her puffed-up face.
Tan Mian pouted: “Alright, alright. Contentment brings happiness.”
Thus, on the afternoon of the 31st, Mu He stayed in her private lounge. On the big screen, the red carpet footage played. Sitting next to her, Tan Mian tore open a pack of chips, crunching noisily, occasionally commenting:
So-and-so’s chest nearly popped out, so-and-so wore a see-through outfit in winter, so-and-so walked in ten-centimeter heels—aren’t they afraid of falling?
“Whoa!”
Tan Mian exclaimed: “My mouth can’t be this sharp, right?”
That actress in heels, whether by accident or on purpose, really did fall while turning, exposing herself. Reporters in the media area were like wolves spotting fresh meat, snapping photos frenetically.
Tan Mian widened her eyes, assessing the reaction, and thinking about her own studio’s methods: “Definitely publicity stunt.”
Sure enough, #XXXFallsOnRedCarpet# quickly trended.
Actresses used every trick to shine on the red carpet, dressing in colors almost like a rainbow. Yet the most noticeable were their shivering bodies in the cold, with reddened ears, hands, and knees…
Beauty comes at a cost.
Tan Mian felt reassured: staying in the lounge was much better—warm, food and drinks available, no suffering.
Mu He received a message back from Xi Heng: “Nervous?”
Holding her phone, she looked down and replied: “A little.”
It would be better if he were there in person.
Then she thought, maybe she would be even more nervous if he were.
“Will you watch my performance?”
After two minutes with no reply, Mu He exited the chat, and casually collected an egg in Ant Manor. Just then, the lounge door opened. Strawberry Channel’s special reporter Wei Wei, along with a cameraman, appeared: “Hello, we’re here for a surprise interview.”
A real surprise.
Mu He hadn’t received notice or prepared. Fortunately, she reacted well and returned a poised smile.
The cameraman noticed something interesting, aiming the camera at Mu He’s phone. The screen displayed the Ant Manor page, with a plump, festively-dressed little chicken blinking its eyes…
Before long, on trending topics dominated by red carpet coverage, a quirky post appeared: #WhatMuHeIsDoingInTheBackstageLounge#—
“Hahaha, too cute! Everyone else is busy on the red carpet, and she’s collecting eggs in Ant Manor!”
“I want to be that little chicken, raised in her manor.”
“I want to be that egg, trembling whenever her delicate fingers touch me.”
“Speed warning for drivers above!”
…
Even passersby were attracted by the video, laughing and leaving comments that they would set up a small stool and wait for her performance on Strawberry Channel, boosting ratings!
Mu He’s program was scheduled mid-show. After finishing styling and changing into her gown, she quietly sat on the sofa, murmuring the Russian lyrics.
A little later, staff came to notify her to prepare for the stage. Mu He exhaled deeply, touched the double-headed eagle ring on her left middle finger, feeling as if he were by her side. She looked back at Tan Mian and gave an “OK” hand gesture.
The host began announcing: “Next, let’s welcome Mu He to perform—Evening in the Suburbs of Moscow.”
The previous act was performed by a grandmaster of music, singing By the Shores of Lake Baikal. The deep blue stage effect had yet to fade. As the new melody began, a blue silhouette slowly appeared in the audience’s view.
Mu He glided through the light and shadow, graceful in posture, her gown flowing like a mountain breeze, moonlight, snow, and rippling streams.
She seemed like a beautiful woman walking from the shores of Lake Baikal, clear and mysterious.
The thousand paper cranes supporting her momentarily froze, then raised light boards and waved glow sticks, screaming her name: “Mu He! Mu Yang Yang! You’re so beautiful! A fairy descended!”
Stage lighting gradually shifted from blue to nostalgic warm orange, like the horizon at sunset, sunlight on water, bathed in rosy glow.
Mu He smiled, waving at them. Instinctively touching her in-ear monitor, she entered the rhythm accurately, softly singing: “In the midnight garden, all is quiet…”
The audience was drawn into the scene by her voice. Some older viewers were reminded of their youth, eyes glistening with tears.
Midway through the song, the cameraman focused on Mu He’s hand holding the microphone: pale fingers, striking black ring with sharp design, black and white contrast perfectly complementing each other.
The audience in front of the screen, including Huo Si Heng, saw it too. He raised his brows in slight surprise, then showed a meaningful smile. Did she understand the significance of that ring?
Did she know what wearing it meant?
Not only Mu He, even Huo Si Wen didn’t know, but he was certain: the ring was definitely the handiwork of Fourth Uncle.
The live streaming site’s comments were buzzing about it:
“Miss’s ring looks so cool!”
“Because she’s singing a famous Soviet song, she specifically wore a double-headed eagle ring—so thoughtful!”
“Am I the only one who thinks that’s not a double-headed eagle, but a black eagle and a white crane sharing one body?”
This comment quickly got drowned out in the torrent of other comments.
Mu He walked to the center of the stage, orange lights reflecting her delicate and beautiful face, her eyes full of light: “Чtoжtыmnлarcmotpnwьnckoca……”
Whether live or on TV, the audience went wild. Some stood and applauded, the thousand paper cranes shouted hoarsely, and the comments covered over half the screen.
“Oh my god, she’s singing in Russian! Goosebumps all over!”
“The key is her pronunciation is so accurate!”
“What kind of celestial singer is this? My ears are about to give birth!”
“I can’t even—kneeling right now!”
“Maybe she doesn’t have professional singer skills, but her emotions are full, her voice clear and bright, so ethereal.”
“Not only is she beautiful, but she sings this well. Did you save the galaxy in your past life?”
“Wuwuwu, my headphones don’t deserve Mu Teacher’s heavenly voice!”
“New here, do we kneel directly?”
…
Without a doubt, it was an audiovisual feast. Only when the host’s voice came did the audience realize the song was over, and thunderous applause erupted.
The topic #MuHeRussian# shot straight to the top of trending, and in less than half an hour, the video had over 200 million views.
Mu He became the hot topic across the entire internet, attracting everyone’s attention, with praise pouring in.
She herself returned to the lounge quietly, put on her down jacket, transformed into a little fan, and sneaked over to the lounge of the teacher who had performed By the Shores of Lake Baikal, asking him for an autograph.
The stronger a person, the gentler they often are. The teacher was past forty, temperament warm like jade, speech and manner always giving a feeling of spring breeze. He even complimented Mu He a couple of times, saying her vocal conditions were good and her emotional expression handled well.
Holding the autograph, Mu He left his lounge, her ears red with embarrassment.
Next, she took two more interviews, and only then could she finally rest. Even in the TV station, her mind had already flown far away.
She wanted to celebrate the New Year with Xi Heng.
This thought was extremely strong.
Before the gala ended, Mu He left early, citing feeling unwell. She arrived home at 11:40 p.m., having specially brought a bottle of champagne, found two glasses in the kitchen, intending to seize this rare opportunity to break Xi Heng’s “no-alcohol pact.”
He had said before, if successful, he would give her a reward.
Could she shamelessly ask him to be her boyfriend?
No matter, break it first and deal later.
Mu He led Xi Heng to the panoramic floor-to-ceiling window. Mist hovered over West Xi River under the moonlight, adding a touch of mystery. She sat cross-legged on a cashmere rug, a round low wooden table in front of her, coat off, wearing only a white dress. Black stockings outlined her slender legs, large wavy hair fell over her shoulders, makeup still delicate, black eyes, snowy skin, red lips.
Pure and sexy at once.
She tilted the bottle slightly, asking him: “Drink?”
Huo Si Heng firmly refused.
The expected answer.
Mu He opened the cork, poured herself half a glass. Pale yellow liquid flowed along the glass, foam rising from the bottom, rich aroma filling her nose. To look good on camera, she had only eaten half a bowl of white fungus and lotus seed soup for dinner, and was a bit thirsty, so she drank it quickly in a few sips.
Flavor lingered on her lips, warmth in her belly, cheeks flushed.
Not bad at all.
Just as she was about to pour the third glass, the New Year countdown began. Crowds gathered along both banks of the West Xi River. Even if she couldn’t see their faces clearly, she felt their excitement and joy. She counted down with them: “Eight… three, two, one.”
She looked at the man opposite her, smiling sweetly: “Xi Heng, Happy New Year.”
Huo Si Heng saw her gaze was dazed, clearly drunk.
No, she really was drunk.
Mu He noticed his face doubled, closed her eyes tightly, opened them again. Not only did the double vision not disappear, but her thoughts were drawn into chaos, nearly impossible to think. She pouted, complaining: “Don’t move, you’re making my head spin.”
Huo Si Heng couldn’t help but smile: “Yang Yang.”
He deliberately lowered his voice, slowed his pace, teasing her: “Do you know, in Moscow, if a man and a woman drink from the same glass, what they will do?”
“…What?”
Huo Si Heng leaned forward, crossing the small round table, close to her: “They will kiss.”
“Bang bang bang!”
The West Xi River was not a government-designated fireworks site, but further away, to celebrate the New Year’s arrival, bursts of fireworks still soared into the night sky, competing with moonlight and stars in the most beautiful instant of life.
Mu He stared at that handsome face, sometimes blurred, sometimes clear, eyes filled with fireworks blooming, as if seeing the distant moon rushing toward her.
At this moment, she completely lost the ability to think, only repeating his words: “Kiss.”
Huo Si Heng picked up the glass she had drunk from, long fingers lightly pinching the base, slightly swaying it, then lowered his head to sip, Adam’s apple moving. The wine entered his stomach.
The twenty-eight-year vow of no alcohol was broken for her at this moment.
He was clearly not drunk, yet the corners of his eyes and brows hinted at spring’s warmth. Impossible to imagine, the usually aloof and noble man could have such… such a yearning look.
Mu He’s face flushed red as well. The air was filled with an intimate tension wrapping around her. Weak all over, succumbing to temptation, she reached out, cupped his face, and pressed her lips to his.