First Kiss Diary - Chapter 46

The lock at the bridge edge clicked into place with a crisp sound.

Ji Ning pulled the key out from beneath and dropped it into the box, which showed only a small hole on one side.

The lanterns of the night spread like a sea; the keys had been dropped somewhere unknown, and the sounds were indistinct.

After finishing a day of shooting, she returned to the hotel at eleven in the evening.

As usual, Song Yu was already waiting for her in the room.

Honestly, Song Yu was really committed: while Ji Ning moved between hotels for the schedule, Song Yu could also pick up his suitcase and accompany her as they wandered through much of the country.

In Song Yu’s words, anyway every time she rides in her car there’s also a pick-up and drop-off service—might as well live there for free. Song Yu’s school schedule was lax to the extreme; she had someone cover her classes, handed in homework on time, and hardly had any trouble, plus she didn’t have to go back to her own place to listen to noise every day.

Ji Ning bought a bottle of yogurt endorsed by Ji Shiyan and took it back; the tangled thoughts were smoothed out by the wind, and she felt light again.

The previous times they held hands hadn’t seemed as formal as this one. Ji Ning sat on the edge of the bed, turning her hand over and staring at her fingers.

Song Yu listened as she recounted today’s date itinerary, clipping her nails while offering her opinions.

“You hit the jackpot,” Song Yu blew on her fingertips and said in a very casual tone, “you’re holding the hand that once gripped his family jewels.”

“……”??

Ji Ning came to her senses after a few seconds, suddenly choked and didn’t know what to say.

She shook the bedsheet, unable to stop the back of her neck from feeling a little hot. “What kind of messy stuff are you thinking about every day?”

“What kind of mess is this? A person who’s lecherous—can that even be called a person?! And I didn’t even say this myself, I saw it on Weibo,” Song Yu clicked her tongue. “Just because of that alone, I have to go to Ruan Ming gege’s handshake event.”

Ji Ning heard the familiar name and felt a bit wistful. “You actually can be obsessed with an artist for more than a month.”

“Almost two months, okay? It really deserves a proper celebration, even though he’s not my only love,” Song Yu said, striking a pose as she handed her phone to Ji Ning. “Look.”

Ji Ning looked down. What Song Yu had handed him was a promotional Weibo post about Ruan Ming: a fountain pen brand had posted a copy of a love poem Ruan Ming had handwritten as a fan perk.

“Can you tell? It’s the two-month anniversary love letter Ruan Ming wrote to me.”

Ji Ning said sincerely, “I can’t.”

“……”

Ji Ning scrolled a bit and found that a brand Ji Shiyan collaborated with had also released a new ring featuring a heart motif.

She returned the compliment to Song Yu: “Can you tell? This is the engagement ring Ji Shiyan designed for me.”

As a fangirl, you must at least have the basic competitive spirit — when it comes to your idol, you can’t lose.

Song Yu shook her head so hard she almost knocked her earring off. “You can’t tell.”

She thought for a moment and said, “Let me see that love letter one more time.”

After reading the hand-copied love poem by Ruan Ming again, Ji Ning said, “It’s obvious—this poem was written by Ruan Ming for you. The very first character is ‘赠’ (to give), and ‘give’ sounds like your surname. So he’s confessing to you. Happy two-month anniversary.”

Song Yu’s head spun with happiness; she shook it and sighed, “You’re so damn right!”

She pointed at the ring on Ji Ning’s phone and quickly corrected herself: “When did you and Ji Shiyan say your wedding date was supposed to be?”

Too real.

“Not decided yet. I’ll tell you when it’s set.”

The two of them collapsed onto the bed and started laughing; Ji Ning felt much relieved. She saw on the homepage someone had shared a sweet clip from a Korean drama, clicked it and it was the male lead fixing the female lead’s hair — and she absentmindedly tapped Ji Shiyan’s profile.

After finishing with him she didn’t forget to go back to the main page to check, afraid she’d switched to the wrong account again.

Last time she wasn’t sure what happened: she was browsing idol-related stuff on her alt account, switching back and forth, and somehow her responses had mysteriously gone out from her main account. Luckily nothing went wrong.

After posting on Weibo, Ji Ning went to take a shower, completely unaware that three minutes later what she had posted would enter the male lead’s line of sight.

The first time he read it, he didn’t quite understand what Ji Ning was trying to express.

Did she want him to take on that kind of drama?

It wasn’t until he clicked into the comments and saw one of her friends had posted a photo of a hair tie, and then tagged him, that he finally understood.

She wanted him to tie up her hair?

But he didn’t seem to have that skill; the only thing he was comparatively good at in life was tying shoelaces.

Oh well, the man told himself in self-convincing fashion—it’s all just tying things; the principles behind securing hair and tying shoelaces should be more or less the same.

He’d try it next time.

///

After finishing the variety show, Ji Ning’s daily life was once again reduced to just filming.

“First Kiss” was entering its final countdown; the fandom on the super-topic grew day by day. Now when she casually scrolled through Weibo posts unrelated to the entertainment world, it was common to see users with dual Ji avatars in the comments.

The couple-shipping fans weren’t half-hearted fans; they ran their own anti-smear accounts and defended two artists at once, with supporters checking in every day. They also performed well when the duo announced new endorsements or showcased purchasing power, never favoring one artist over the other—engagement metrics were always active.

But retweeting for Ji Shiyan was a bit easier, because Ji Shiyan’s Weibo was mainly used to promote work; the platform’s atmosphere wasn’t great, so when he occasionally posted photos or text he’d choose other apps.

Since the show was about to end, the shipper fans organized a more ceremonial charity event as a kind of memento before the program finished airing.

They went to the mountain region in the name of Shuang Ji, teaching many children about topics that are “embarrassing to mention” in books and showing them how to protect themselves.

That charity event even broke out of its small circle; many bystanders below had a very favorable impression, and some said, “If the fans are so gentle and attentive, the two idols must be very kind people too.”

Ji Ning’s Super Topic began to stabilize in the top seven of the charts; the fans’ fighting spirit could actually rival that of many popular male idols.

How things will develop from here she could not predict, but everything had indeed become clearer.

It was at that moment that she received a second invitation to “Rapid Combustion.”

For a national variety show like that, they either invite people with strong variety-show personalities or hot idols. Being invited a second time within one season was itself a recognition of her.

Previously she had participated with Ji Shiyan; she didn’t know whether it was the Kissing First show’s production decision or Ji Shiyan’s own star power, but this time she realized the producers had come for her.

When Nono told her about it, she asked, “Did Ji Shiyan go up alone?”

“The producers said they invited him, but they didn’t get him. He doesn’t seem to like appearing solo on shows; it’s hard to book him for single-guest programs—didn’t you notice?”

Nono said, “But even if they had invited him, he wouldn’t be on the same episode as you. Wouldn’t that be redundant? You’re appearing solo this time; I think the producers liked your topic and your variety-show instincts. It also shows you’re smart, doesn’t it?”

This show sometimes has incredibly brain-bending segments; without some intelligence your mind just can’t keep up. And when it gets wild, it messes with the guests too. In the industry it’s something artists both love and hate.

“Was I not cast that day?”

“No way, take a break — I even adjusted the recording schedule just for you. Aren’t you touched?” Nono said, sounding proud. “A national variety show rearranged its times for you — that’s the kind of treatment only a mega-star gets. What a face-saver.”

Ji Ning suddenly remembered something and added, “Oh, right. After this show is over, find me a dance instructor, will you?”

“What are you doing?”

“Folk dance,” Ji Ning said. “Isn’t there a lot of action choreography in ‘Phantom Cure’? Learning some dance will make the fighting look more graceful. Also some sanda—there’s a sequence where a woman disguises herself as a man, and the action needs to have more power, otherwise it won’t look good.”

Nono tapped the notebook, intending to persuade her. Before joining the cast of “Phantom Healing” she hardly had any downtime, and now two new study tasks were added — she was going to exhaust herself. Besides, the production would certainly arrange the appropriate stunt instructors; she didn’t need to worry so much.

But when it came down to it she didn’t say it aloud—after all, the very reason she had come this far and earned recognition from many in the industry was precisely that earnest, responsible attitude.

Nono wrote it down and said, “I’ll find a few teachers then and send you the videos. You pick which ones you want.”

“Okay.”

///

A week later, the penultimate episode of “First Kiss Diary” arrived on schedule.

That day Ji Ning woke up a little late and missed making him breakfast; when she reached the makeup room she found something placed on her seat.

Their shoots were very improvisational; sometimes there wasn’t enough time to do styling together, so they split into two groups, finished separately, and went straight to set, while other times when schedules matched and there was an extra room, they’d do hair and makeup together.

Ji Ning sat down in his seat and pointed at the brown paper bag. “Whose stuff is this?”

“Eat early,” the man said, hands clasped together. “I made the rice rolls.”

The girl stared at the bag, momentarily stunned.

This was… reverse support? Her idol returning her support?

Ji Ning opened the lid, poured the sauce over it, broke the chopsticks and took a bite.

It tastes great.

I didn’t expect her idol not only to have godlike traffic and looks, but also to be skilled in cooking.

After breakfast and finishing her hair and makeup, the man had his hands tucked in his coat pockets and said lightly, “Let’s go shopping.”

“Shopping?”

“Don’t like it?” He raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t girls generally fond of shopping?”

He realized he hadn’t taken her shopping yet, and with the cold weather outside she could easily get chapped from the cold, so after thinking it over for a moment he came up with the idea.

Also let her relax a little.

Ji Ning smiled, “Of course I like it—who doesn’t like shopping?”

She was genuinely pleased with the arrangement; even her eyes brightened.

“Buy whatever you want. I’ll pay today.”

Although she knew her idol was genuinely wealthy, Ji Ning still didn’t buy anything too expensive. It was inevitable—the mall, situated in the city center, could be summed up in four words: extravagantly luxurious.

Anything she stared at for more than five seconds, a man would appear by her side: “If you like it, buy it.”

So she kept her gaze tightly under control, not letting it drift toward useless things.

Following the principle that it’s better to boost sales for his own endorsers than for others, Ji Ning browsed a few stores he represented.

This man is a treasure from head to toe: one face has signed endorsements for men’s skincare, women’s skincare, and women’s cosmetics; his clothing endorsements number as many as five, spanning both high-end and ready-to-wear lines; and his shoe endorsements need no further comment—brands would rather risk overlap than pull out, which speaks volumes about his commercial value.

They ran into Ji Shiyan’s friends who had teamed up to hang out after spending the morning shopping and having lunch.

The mall had already been cleared out; his friends waved to Ji Shiyan through the glass doors. Ji Ning was weighing whether she should step away for a bit when the man courteously introduced her to his friends.

That introduction left her momentarily dazed.

He was willing to introduce her to his friends without any hesitation or concealment, as if it carried a hint of acknowledgment.

His friends were easy to get along with too; if they weren’t, they probably wouldn’t be his friends. Ji Ning was soon on familiar terms with everyone.

Thinking it would be boring for the two of them to keep shopping, they changed the afternoon plans at the last minute and decided to play a game with his friends instead.

Including the two Jis, four guys and four girls, it was just the right number for a good game.

They drew lots to form groups of two men and two women; Ji Ning and Ji Shiyan ended up in opposing teams.

The game was like “tear the name tag”: a balloon was tied behind each person, and if the enemy popped your balloon you were out — the last ones remaining would win.

Not long after the game started, Ji Ning was holding her balloon and scouting the arena when someone ambushed her from the side. Luckily she reacted quickly, grabbed the balloon and started running.

The one who ambushed her was Zhao Jing, a member of Ji Shiyan’s team, his male friend.

Although Ji Ning ran fast, she was soon cornered by Zhao Jing. Just as Zhao Jing grabbed her intending to pinch her balloon, Ji Shiyan somehow appeared.

The man was quick-eyed and quick-handed; seeing Zhao Jing pressing close to Ji Ning, he instinctively went over and grabbed Zhao Jing’s hand.

Zhao Jing stared blankly as he realized who it was. “Big bro, aren’t I on your team?!!”

Ji Ning timed his jump perfectly; as he sprang out of the blind spot his hand brushed against a balloon. He didn’t see whose it was, only that it belonged to the enemy—so with a push he popped it.

Streamers burst out of the balloon, and the scene of someone being eliminated still carried a sense of ceremony.

Ji Shiyan didn’t react, still holding Zhao Jing’s hand, and looked toward Ji Ning, who was stepping back with a smile.

The girl brought two fingers together and gave him a mock salute, grinning, “First blood, thanks.”

He turned back; Zhao Jing behind him wore an expression that said “you’re hopeless,” staring at him speechlessly.

“Could you maybe care about your girlfriend a little more, Ji Shiyan?!!!”

Author’s Note: Salt: Yes, I can

Don’t say it—it’s worth it