Chapter 8: The Dinner That Wasn’t a Date (But Definitely Was)

Gu Yan took her to a street food stall.

Not a restaurant. Not a private dining room. A cart on a busy corner, with plastic stools and a uncle who fried noodles in a wok so hot it glowed.

“This is your idea of dinner?” Shi Xi asked, sitting on a stool that wobbled dangerously.

“You’re a fake heiress pretending to be a nobody,” Gu Yan said, handing her a pair of chopsticks. “This is where nobodies eat. Also, the noodles are incredible.”

They ate in silence for a while. The night market buzzed around them—students, families, a man selling pirated DVDs. Shi Xi felt, for the first time since waking up in this world, almost normal.

“Why did you hire me?” she asked.

Gu Yan swirled his noodles. “Because you’re hiding something. I like secrets.”

“That’s not a reason.”

“It’s my only reason.” He looked at her, and for a moment, the sharpness in his eyes softened. “Also, you can act. Really act. Not like these manufactured idols. You have… weight.”

Her throat tightened. No one had said that to her since her retirement. Since before she died.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

He reached across the table and wiped a smear of sauce from her chin with his thumb. The touch was brief, electric.

[DING! Gu Yan’s interest level: 60%. Romance subplot intensifying.]

Shut up, she thought. This isn’t a romance.

But her heart was racing, and Gu Yan was smiling that small, private smile again, and she knew she was in trouble.