The others hadn’t even processed what was happening. Why was he pulling out a lighter?

Zhou Yining stubbornly pried his hand away. “No need. I can undo it. I can.”

Her fingers fumbled desperately at the knot, her frustration mounting with each failed attempt. The onlookers exchanged uneasy glances. There was something eerily familiar about this scene, like the last time she’d cried uncontrollably, insisting on untying a knot herself.

Was this girl just… pathologically stubborn?

Ji Dongyang glanced down at her. Despite the cold, fine beads of sweat had formed on her forehead.

His voice was low, insistent. “Let me.”

Large hands enveloped hers, trapping her chilled fingers in his palm. With his other hand, he flicked the lighter open. A tiny flame leaped to life, and in an instant, the tangled threads burned apart, separating cleanly.

Zhou Yining stared blankly at the lighter in his hand before snapping her head up to look at him.

Her expression was one of pure shock then, flickering into something like delight. Her gaze locked onto him, unblinking.

Ji Dongyang frowned under her scrutiny. “What?”

Her eyes burned with intensity as she whispered, “Why… why did you use a lighter?”

Only then did the crew realize Dong-ge had burned the rope!

“Ah, but that was sponsored! We’re supposed to return it.”

Too late now.

Zhou Yining ignored them, repeating her question with laser focus: “Why did you burn it?”

Director Xu, irritated, waved his hand. “Replace it and keep going.”

Ji Dongyang studied her unwavering stare, then glanced at the metal lighter in his hand. A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he pressed it into her palm. “You like it? Keep it.”

Ah Ming: “…”

Dong-ge, that was my birthday gift! Was it really okay to just hand it over to the little witch?!

Zhou Yining looked down at the lighter, stunned. Before she could ask anything else, Ji Dongyang was already swarmed by staff, one adjusting his sleeves, another tying on a new accessory. Someone tugged her away. “Miss Zhou, we’ll get you a replacement.”

She cast one last glance at Ji Dongyang before finally lowering her head.

Behind the monitors, the assistant director muttered, “Zhou Yining seems… off. Like she’s in a daze.”

Director Xu, unfazed, grumbled, “The earlier take was good. Pity about the prop. If we can’t replicate it, we’ll edit it in later.”

To everyone’s surprise, when they resumed filming, Zhou Yining delivered flawlessly. Even Director Xu praised, “This one’s solid.”

—

After wrapping, Zhou Yining sat waiting in her car. The owner of the neighboring vehicle hadn’t arrived yet.

She pulled the lighter from her pocket, thumb tracing the intricate engravings. A flick, and a small flame illuminated the dim interior.

Flick. Snuff. Flick. Snuff.

Over and over.

Suddenly, knuckles rapped against her window.

She turned to see Ah Ming’s face pressed close to the glass, Ji Dongyang standing behind him, brows furrowed as he watched her.

She shut the lighter and rolled down the window.

Ah Ming sighed dramatically. “Miss Zhou, playing with fire alone in a car is dangerous. I almost thought you were planning to…”

That was a limited-edition lighter! He wanted it back, but what kind of man demanded a returned gift? He could only stare longingly.

Zhou Yining snapped out of her trance and shot back, “You’re the one with a death wish!”

Ah Ming shrugged, glancing at Ji Dongyang, whose calm gaze slid past him to land on Zhou Yining. Without a word, he turned. “Let’s go.”

It was unclear if the order was for Ah Ming or her, but Zhou Yining decided it was definitely for her. He looked at her last!

Grinning, she started her engine and followed.

A Ming watched the SUV tailing them and then another car behind it. “Dong-ge, looks like paparazzi are on our trail. The little witch is right behind us. What if they spot her car?”

Ji Dongyang’s fame made him a constant target. Ah Ming, despite his usual goofiness, was a pro at evasion. “Lose them,” Ji Dongyang ordered.

Ah Ming accelerated, weaving through traffic. But Zhou Yining’s driving skills were terrifyingly sharp; she matched every move. He could shake the paparazzi, but not her. Two cars sticking close would only raise suspicion. Reluctantly, he called her.

Zhou Yining answered, amused. “What’s up?”

Ah Ming pleaded, “There are paparazzi behind you. Let’s split up, or they might…”

She cut him off. “You go ahead.”

Ah Ming brightened. “Great! Only two of Dong-ge’s addresses haven’t been leaked yet. We’re counting on you!”

Ji Dongyang frowned, watching through the rearview as Zhou Yining’s SUV swerved, blocking the paparazzi like a predator toying with prey. Even without seeing her face, he could imagine her smug, defiant smirk.

As Ji Dongyang’s car vanished into the night, Zhou Yining slowed, letting the paparazzi zoom past. One yelled, “Damn rich brats!”

She almost rolled down the window to retort, but held back. Better not risk being recognized.

—

Back in the garage, his car still hadn’t returned.

She waited until Ah Ming finally pulled in.

Zhou Yining stepped out, leaning against her door as Ji Dongyang approached. She pouted. “You’re slow.”

He arched a brow. “Need something?”

She bounced in front of him, grinning up. “Yeah. Something super important.”

He walked past her toward the elevator, unfazed. “Then say it.”

She trailed behind him, silent until the doors opened on his floor.

Ding

She darted ahead, blocking his path.

The lighter reappeared in her palm, her eyes earnest. Ji Dongyang didn’t understand her obsession with it, but he was curious now.

“Earlier,” she pressed, “why did you burn it?”

Again.

He frowned. “If you can’t untie something, you cut or burn it. Isn’t that normal?”

(Though, given the choice between scissors and a lighter, most men would pick fire.)

Her face fell. “Oh.”

Then, hope flickered again. “No… special habits? Like, have you done it before?”

Ji Dongyang’s frown deepened before he chuckled. “I don’t have special habits.”

“Oh.”

She deflated. He stepped around her. “Go home.”

—

Alone on her couch, Zhou Yining hugged her knees, face buried.

Sigh.

For a second, she’d thought Ji Dongyang was him.

Disappointing. But also… a relief.

It had been so long. Back then, she’d been a mess. He hadn’t said much, but he’d stayed by her. He had been quiet, and he had kept her company for a long time.

After a moment, she lifted her head. She wasn’t one to linger in memory. She always looked forward.

—

Ji Dongyang was halfway to bed when the doorbell rang.

Pausing, he turned back.

Zhou Yining stood outside, clad only in a cropped crimson top, no jacket. The exposed sliver of her waist was pale, delicate, almost too slender.

He eyed her. “Here to drink again?”

She tilted her head. “You didn’t touch the liquor I left here, right?”

He gestured toward the glass cabinet. “Take it back.”

She retrieved the bottle, then spun to face him. “Drink with me.”

He refused instantly until she mumbled, “I feel like crying.”

“…”

Victorious, she sprawled on his sofa, downing liquor like a seasoned drinker.

“You sure you won’t join?” she teased.

Ji Dongyang leaned against the armrest. “No.”

“I’m cold.”

Grudgingly, he fetched her a hoodie.

Zhou Yining slipped it on, grinning. His fifth piece of clothing. How big was his wardrobe? As a top-tier actor, he probably had endless outfits. This’ll take a while.

Before she could strategize, the bottle vanished from her grip.

Ji Dongyang set it aside and hauled her up. “Enough. Go home.”

Barefoot, she stumbled, her toes brushing his.

The contact was soft, fleeting. He stiffened, pushing her away. “Leave.”

This girl took an inch and stole a mile. Today’s leniency had already crossed his lines again.

This couldn’t continue.

She sulked. “I wasn’t finished.”

His expression frosted over. “Then drink slowly. I’m going to bed.”

Always sleeping. In the car, on set, at home—any spare moment, he was asleep.

When she didn’t budge, he turned away.

“Wait!”

Suddenly, she was darting forward, bare feet padding across the floor, and throwing her arms around him.

—

INK HUB: What do you think she’s really after? Theories in the comments!