Chapter 47

Chapter: A Secret Crush Sees the Light

“Is it Shen Yi?”

Qin Sang tested his reaction. Aside from Shen Yi, who already knew, she couldn’t think of anyone else who might have told Xie Yunchen about her feelings.

“Shen Yi?”

Xie Yunchen’s reaction didn’t seem fake—he paused slightly, only a moment of confusion.

So it wasn’t him.

Qin Sang pressed her lips together, her heart uneasy.

She’d thought it was Shen Yi who’d revealed her secret, since he and Xie Yunchen were close. It would’ve been normal for something to slip out during their conversations.

Xie Yunchen quickly worked out the connection. He let out a faint, self-deprecating laugh. “I see.”

So Shen Yi knew.

No wonder that night, Shen Yi had said out of the blue: “God Xie, you know I’ve always admired you. But you’re really cold about some things. If anyone ever genuinely falls for you, they’re pretty unlucky.”

“Why think so far ahead, look so far into the future? Sometimes it’s good to stop and enjoy the view right in front of you, isn’t it?”

Shen Yi saw things clearly.

That was why he’d reminded him not to miss the person before him.

Only Qin Sang still couldn’t figure it out. “When did you find out? That my feelings for you weren’t pure?”

She didn’t mind Xie Yunchen knowing about her past. What she couldn’t understand was how he’d found out.

Or had he known from the very beginning, watching her like a clown, soberly observing as she made up all sorts of excuses just to get close to him?

“Sang Sang—” His voice was gentle, his gaze deep as he looked at her, as if he could see right through her thoughts. He was silent for a moment before speaking. “It’s not what you think.”

“At first, I didn’t know.”

He hadn’t known what that reunion that night meant to her. Hadn’t known how much effort it had taken for her to stay composed, to act like nothing was wrong, to exchange a few casual words with him.

Every single interaction with him required immense courage from her—as if dragging her hidden past out again and again for public execution.

“Then how did you—”

Qin Sang was baffled, still unable to understand.

She’d been resisting, self-loathing, and yet unable to stop herself.

She’d always felt that even a brief moment of his attention was like winning the lottery—a stroke of luck she could never ask for again.

“Sang Sang—” Xie Yunchen’s expression was clear, his tone carrying a hint of helplessness and bitterness. “Do you remember that night on Mid-Autumn Festival? You told me you really liked that mint candy, but later, you searched everywhere and could never find a replacement.”

She remembered. That night, she simply couldn’t bear to see him so forlorn. After all, he was someone she’d deeply loved—she always wished him well.

She understood that Zhou Yihong had his own difficulties too, but he’d never considered that perhaps Xie Yunchen hadn’t had it as easy as he thought either.

So she’d pulled out that mint candy.

The candy she’d only ever dared to hide away before.

“You knew I liked that mint candy. You knew the flavor I loved.”

“Before that, I wasn’t sure if you had feelings for me, or if it was just friendship between old classmates.”

He’d been surprised that Qin Sang knew such small details about him so clearly.

He’d vaguely sensed something unusual, but that was all.

Xie Yunchen’s voice was hoarse. “Even now—before today—I didn’t dare be certain whether your feelings for me were just a crush, or something deeper.”

Until he heard her speak about her past with his own ears.

Only then did he learn that during the years he’d never noticed, there was someone who’d loved him deeply, chasing after his shadow, step by step, just to get a little closer.

Springs and summers overlapped, seasons turned. Through the cracks of time, how many autumns, winters, springs, and summers had she endured—how many cycles of the seasons—no one knew.

The secret she’d hidden wasn’t love—it was having loved.

She’d admitted with her own mouth that she’d loved him, and for many years.

She’d also said with her own mouth that she planned to forget, planned to give up.

In that moment, his chest felt tight, followed by a spreading, swelling ache—an emotion so intense and so foreign.

He’d never believed in fate, but at that moment, he was inexplicably grateful.

Before she could completely forget him, he still had a chance to win her back.

Qin Sang stayed silent, her mind actually blank, thinking of nothing.

Suddenly, as if a lightbulb went off, she snapped back to reality.

“So that’s how it is.”

So she herself had given it away—because her feelings were so blatant, so unconcealed.

Xie Yunchen was sharp and perceptive. He’d probably seen the signs long ago.

Qin Sang could only sigh. “So my acting skills have deteriorated this badly. Such a simple role, and I still messed it up.”

She’d been so self-assured, convinced she’d hidden it well and no one would ever notice. She never imagined her feelings had already been laid bare.

“Then did you—” Qin Sang desperately wanted to know. “Did you fall for me because of that? When you confessed, was it out of pity? Or out of being moved?”

Was it because he’d sensed her feelings, knowing she’d harbored a crush for so many years? Was he touched by her blind pursuit, and confessed to fulfill her wish?

Did he truly like her as a person, or was he simply moved by her feelings, acting on a momentary impulse?

Love born from being moved or pity—that wasn’t love. That was just a superior being’s faint compassion for an ant.

Qin Sang almost admired herself at this moment. She could actually maintain a shred of rationality and clarity in such chaos, and still have the composure to question how much of his feelings were genuine.

She really wasn’t that smart—otherwise, why hadn’t she learned to “forget” after all this time? She couldn’t even hide her tracks properly, getting caught so easily.

“You’re right—” Qin Sang truly didn’t mind him knowing about her past. But she did mind where his initial intentions came from. “I once had a crush on you, and even now, that feeling hasn’t faded one bit. I’m just an ordinary, mundane person. So I don’t want you to think I’m special just because of that past crush.”

“I like you, but I want us to be equals. At least right now, I want the response I’m getting to come from genuine feeling, not mixed with other considerations.”

Why had she hidden her feelings? Why hadn’t she let anyone catch even a glimpse?

At seventeen, Qin Sang hid because of inferiority and cowardice. She felt she wasn’t good enough for Xie Yunchen, and believed it could never happen anyway. So why risk becoming the butt of everyone’s jokes for an uncertain future?

Now, at twenty-seven, Qin Sang’s reasoning was simple: she wanted equality. She liked him—had always liked him—so she wanted a love that was equal.

A secret crush is a one-person show, so she never needed his response—she was the sole lead. Wailing, collapsing, going mad—it was all just a dream. Wake up, and no one knows. Life goes on as usual.

Her feelings had always been quiet. They’d never affected anyone else, never caused him a moment’s trouble.

So even if people are ranked high and low—

She might be humble and lowly, but her love was not.

All she longed for was his response, hoping that one day his gaze would linger on her.

She had never—not once—begged for even a shred of his affection.

She knew how exceptional Xie Yunchen was.

So she’d kept working hard, silently climbing higher.

She wanted to rise higher, stand in a more visible place.

Because she hoped—because she was waiting—

That someday, she could stand before him with complete ease, even if just as a former classmate, and say “long time no see.”

But she’d waited too long. So long that she was exhausted.

So long that she realized there were many others she wanted to cherish.

So she’d decided to let herself go.

The reunion was an accident.

She had to admit—she really couldn’t let go.

She was constantly pulled by his emotions, doing all kinds of irrational things. But she never groveled, never begged him for any pity or sympathy.

So this last step—she would wait for him to take it.

She’d been so sure that every decision he made was serious.

But now she couldn’t help questioning—how much of that “seriousness” came from genuine feeling?

“Do you really like me?”

“Or are you just moved by this secret crush? Do you want to make it up to me, acting on a reckless impulse?”

Ten years of unrequited love—even an ordinary person would find it hard to handle. That kind of feeling was simply too heavy.

Maybe they’d be moved, maybe they’d make an impulsive decision.

Qin Sang’s gaze was clear. She looked quietly into his eyes.

She was waiting for his answer.

She wanted a definitive answer.

“Sang Sang, you think too highly of me.”

“I’m not as good as you imagine. I’m not as—” He paused, the corner of his mouth lifting in self-mockery. “—not as warm-hearted as you think.”

Zhou Wanqing had called him cold and ungrateful. Thinking back now, she was right.

Three years as classmates, and he could no longer even remember who was in his class, what they were called, or what they looked like.

She wasn’t the exception.

But right now, he felt regret.

Why hadn’t she become the exception?

He’d vaguely sensed his own hidden emotional shifts, and had never suppressed them, nor would he deny—he was drawn to her.

When had it started?

At the Huitai conference?

Or earlier—that time she’d fled from the corridor, looking utterly flustered yet strikingly radiant, like the glow of sunset—gentle without being blinding, just barely sweeping across a desolate abyss.

“I’m not lying to you. Every word I’ve said to you is sincere, and comes from the heart.”

That night on Mid-Autumn Festival, after they’d parted—

He’d stood for a long time beneath the billboard with her face on it.

She was famous.

Radiant, dazzling, brilliant.

It seemed like her image was everywhere in this city, on every corner.

Countless times in the past, he’d passed by her, but he’d never once paid attention to who she was.

Until that night, he suddenly realized—

So she’d always been here.

So she’d existed in every corner of his world, filling every gap.

“Sang Sang—” Emotion brewed in Xie Yunchen’s faint brows and eyes, a bitter, thin smile on his lips. “I only regret that I had so many chances to get to know you, and I missed every single one. If I had the chance to do it all over again—I only wish I’d been the one to fall first.”