Chapter 138

138: “You’re Allowed to Sleep With Him.”

So, yeah. Apparently, I was dating Xiao Rong now.

At least, according to the media.

I didn’t plant the story. My agent didn’t either—she swore on her Chanel lipstick. It was just… gossip. Dumb, relentless gossip. The kind that sprouts like mushrooms after a rainstorm—mysterious and everywhere.

Truth is, I’d met Xiao Rong exactly twice. Once, when I slipped and fell in the world’s most humiliating pratfall. And once more after filming started, when he stopped by to say hi to the screenwriter. That’s it. Two hellos. Zero romantic sparks. Yet somehow, the headlines made it sound like we were sneaking around like forbidden lovers.

Worse, they dragged up some grainy old hotel photo where Xiao Rong had been spotted, and—guess what—I just happened to be in the background. I wasn’t even famous back then, so no one cared. But now that I’d gained a bit of traction? Boom. Conspiracy theories. Secret relationships. Whispers about how the filming location at Lingyuan was “convenient” for our supposed love affair.

I wanted to scream. But my agent? She was unbothered. “Relax,” she said. “It’s Xiao Rong. Dating rumors with him are a PR jackpot.”

Easy for her to say. He wasn’t avoiding her like the plague.

And his fans? Oh, bless them. They were so starved for updates after his retirement that they were basically living in the comment sections of his friends’ posts. Begging. Pleading. Just for a new pic. One blurry shot of him on set and they practically held a nationwide celebration.

So yeah, no one tore me apart. Not this time. Not when dating him might mean more photos. Not when I was their only breadcrumb trail to their long-lost idol.

Which, frankly, made me feel even worse.

I wasn’t even close to someone like Xiao Rong. He was charming and gorgeous and sunny in that infuriating, effortless way. And now I had to see him again.

Third meeting. On set. With a giant green tree python.

The script had us cross paths with a runaway snake—an actual pet python that ends up threatening my character and a parrot. A predator-prey crisis, played out in technicolor.

Lingyuan supplied all the animal actors, of course. And for this scene, they didn’t go with their Instagram-famous snowstorm python or the sleek golden one. No, they picked a green tree python. Two meters long. Emerald scales. The kind of cold beauty that made your skin crawl.

When they wheeled it out in its transparent box, my scalp prickled like I’d been electrocuted.

“They fed it already,” the director said. “It’s really chill.”

Sure. Chill. As in: the last thing I’d be if that thing got loose.

And just when I was forcing myself not to run away screaming… he showed up.

Xiao Rong.

The director lit up. “Here to see the screenwriter again?”

“No,” Xiao Rong said. “I’m here to see the python.”

Um. What?

The keeper laughed. “He and Xiao Qing get along really well. She loves him. Always slithers over when he visits.”

Great. Now the snake liked him too.

The keeper didn’t say this part out loud, but I could tell: it hadn’t always been sunshine and roses. Xiao Rong had probably been terrified at first, just like a normal person. But he’d worked through it. Bit by bit. Until he could cradle that thing like a teddy bear.

And now, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he did just that—cradled Xiao Qing with both arms and whispered, “Careful.”

I hovered nearby, sweating bullets.

The keeper invited me to get familiar with Xiao Qing’s scent. “Just a light touch,” he said. “Start with the head.”

I reached out. My fingers inched forward.

And just before they touched, Xiao Rong pulled his hand back. Not even close enough for contact. Just… enough to say, No thanks.

Mortifying.

He definitely saw the news. And he didn’t like it. He didn’t like me.

I flushed scarlet.

And then, out of nowhere, the keeper chuckled. “Surprising. Birds don’t like you, but Xiao Qing seems to. She’s real gentle.”

I blinked. Looked at the python. She was gentle. Relaxed, even. Her body coiled slowly, her head rising to meet my palm like a sleepy cat.

Weirdly enough, she wasn’t scary anymore.

Xiao Rong stared at us, open-mouthed.

The keeper muttered, “Didn’t they say she was the nemesis of bird trainers in her past life? Maybe she was a snake…”

Then, suddenly, yank. Xiao Rong tugged Xiao Qing down with both hands, forcing her head away from my touch.

“Be careful,” he said, all fake-smile and clenched teeth. “Tree python bites hurt.”

Oh. He was jealous.

We started filming.

The scene flew by. Xiao Qing behaved like a pro. Honestly, she out-acted half the cast. And the parrot? Nailed its cues like it went to Juilliard.

In the final shot, I had to help carry Xiao Qing back to the zoo. As I held her, I noticed Xiao Rong glaring. His eyes said you traitor. His mouth said nothing.

My arms tightened slightly around the python, more from nerves than anything.

Xiao Rong: “Why is she hugging it so tightly?”

The director: “Is she?”

Xiao Rong: “Yes! It’s not good for the snake! There’s research! Science!”

The director: “…CUT!”

The second the shoot ended, I asked, “Can I take a photo with her?”

The keeper nodded. But just as the assistant raised the phone, Xiao Rong swooped in, grabbed Xiao Qing, and unwrapped her from my arms like I was an over-clingy toddler.

“She’s done,” he said. “She needs to eat.”

Just like that, she was gone.

I stood there, arms empty, brain fried. My assistant patted me on the back. “He’s just upset. You know. Fired. Retired. Burned out. It’s not you.”

I sighed. “I know.”

But still—was anyone going to call out the grown man acting like a jealous six-year-old?

…

Back at the enclosure, Xiao Rong scolded Xiao Qing like a petty boyfriend.

“She hugged you. You didn’t move. You liked it, didn’t you?”

Xiao Qing: blink blink. (Snake version of “What?”)

Bai Suzhen, ever the peacekeeper, slid down the tree. “Xiao Qing, that wasn’t very considerate…”

Xiao Qing snapped, “Fine! Next time I’ll scare her to death!”

Xiao Rong, slightly horrified, “I didn’t say that—!”

Then Xiao Qing, ever dramatic, whipped out a hidden phone with her tail. “What’s this?!”

Blurry photo. Headline: SHOCKING! Meng Qiqi and Xiao Rong—On-Set Romance?!

They’d circled us. Of course they had.

Xiao Qing wailed, “I feel so green!!”

Bai Suzhen: “…Aren’t you always green?”

Meanwhile, Meng Qiqi’s Weibo post was already viral:

“I think I know why birds hate me.”
(Photo: her smiling, cradling a giant python)

Comments:

“Zodiac plot twist—she’s actually a snake!”
“She’s switching species like outfits.”

Duan Jiazhe, who was tagged in the post, saw the chaos unfold and muttered, “Well… at least there are no more snake scenes.”

That day, he dropped off fifty parrots at the exhibit like a frazzled dad leaving kids at kindergarten. When he came back, the zoo staff handed him a giant seal pillow.

He carried it to Lu Ya’s room.

Lu Ya blinked at the oversized plush, then pointed at his own bird-shaped pillow. “?”

“It’s the product department’s fault!” Duan Jiazhe swore.

Lu Ya narrowed his eyes. “I want a big one too.”

“No one wants to buy a massive bird pillow,” Duan Jiazhe said.

Wrong move.

Because Lu Ya instantly transformed. Feathers flared, body expanded until he nearly filled the room, trapping Duan Jiazhe against the wall.

“You said ‘big,’” Lu Ya rumbled. “Want to see more?”

Duan Jiazhe was practically inhaling bird fluff. “Nope! You win!”

Eventually, Lu Ya shrank to the size of a motorcycle. Duan Jiazhe circled him like he was inspecting furniture.

“This size is perfect,” he said.

A minute later, Duan Jiazhe curled up inside Lu Ya’s feathery wings like a cozy human burrito.

“If you do this every day,” he said blissfully, “I’ll let you sleep with me every night.”

Lu Ya: “…”

(And people said snakes were dangerous.)