4: Chapter 4 Lies and Accomplices

The air in the living room seemed to be sucked out instantly.

Leng Qingxuan, who had been rolling on the sofa and laughing like a silly roe deer just a second ago, was now like a plaster statue with the pause button pressed.

She stared at the lit-up phone screen on the coffee table, her pupils contracting slightly. The word "Mother" displayed there wasn't a call of affection, but more like a summons from the abyss.

Huang Mao keenly sensed her abnormality.

If Leng Qingxuan had been vivid and lively just now, then now, the "human" vitality about her was rapidly peeling away.

She was trying to put back on the shell named "perfect campus belle," even though that shell had already developed several cracks from her indulgence just moments ago.

"Are you going to answer?" Huang Mao lowered his voice, as if afraid of disturbing something fragile.

Leng Qingxuan didn't speak, only nodding mechanically.

She took a deep breath, sat up straight, tidied her slightly messy hoodie collar, and even subconsciously pressed her legs together, striking a standard ladylike pose.

This series of stress responses etched into her bones made Huang Mao's brow furrow slightly.

To what extent must she have been disciplined to show such reverence toward a lifeless object like a phone?

Her finger trembled as it swiped across the answer button.

Leng Qingxuan pressed the speakerphone.

"Qingxuan."

A woman's voice came from the other end of the line.

The voice was extremely pleasant—warm and elegant. The pronunciation of every word was as standard as an anchor for Xinwen Lianbo. The speed was neither fast nor slow, and the tone had no fluctuation at all, as steady as a flatline on an EKG.

Huang Mao felt a tingle on his scalp.

There was no anger in the voice, no anxiety, not even a hint of emotional fluctuation.

It was like some high-precision AI-synthesized voice—perfect, yet exuding a suffocating sense of inhumanity.

Like a pseudo-human, it triggered the uncanny valley effect.

"Good evening, Mother." Leng Qingxuan's voice had changed too. The soft, slightly otaku-ish tone from before had vanished, replaced by a cold, submissive quality, and... deep fear.

"It's so late, and you're not home yet?" The voice on the other end remained steady.

"Yes, Mother."

"Have you had dinner?"

"I have."

"Did you practice the piano today?"

"...I did."

A lie.

Huang Mao looked at Leng Qingxuan. Her hands were tightly clutching the hem of her clothes, her knuckles turning white from the exertion. She was lying, and doing so in such a high-pressure environment.

Silence on the other end for two seconds.

In those two seconds, the living room was so quiet that only Leng Qingxuan's slightly hurried breathing could be heard.

"Where are you?"

Two simple words, like a heavy hammer blow.

The previous questions were just routine build-up; this was the real interrogation.

Leng Qingxuan's body shuddered violently.

She opened her mouth, seemingly out of habit wanting to report a reasonable location that met her mother's expectations, like the "school piano room" or the "library."

But she looked around—unfamiliar ceiling, unfamiliar furniture, and a boy staring at her.

If the lie were exposed now, the consequences would be unimaginable. But if she told the truth...

Huang Mao watched her.

The usually aloof ice goddess was now as fragile as a thin sheet of paper.

Her eyes were filled with struggle, panic, and a hint of bewilderment. She was like a lost child standing at a crossroads, not knowing which way to go, where a single wrong step meant a bottomless abyss.

She'll probably give in, he thought.

Huang Mao sighed inwardly.

Given the level of control in such a family, she might just break down, give the address, and wait for a car to be sent to pick her up, returning to being a canary in a cage.

However.

Leng Qingxuan didn't speak.

She suddenly turned her head and looked at Huang Mao.

In those eyes, mist gathered, carrying a signal for help that bordered on despair.

Save me.

Though she didn't say a word, Huang Mao understood.

The next second, Leng Qingxuan made an extremely bold move.

She reached out her finger, tapped "Mute" on the screen, and then quickly extended her right hand, palm up in front of Huang Mao, her fingertips still trembling violently.

Huang Mao was stunned.

What does this mean? Does she want something?

Before he could react, Leng Qingxuan's voice, thick with tears, rang out very softly: "Hand... lend me a hand."

Lend a hand?

Though completely confused, Huang Mao's body reacted faster than his brain, and he handed over his left hand.

"Snap."

Leng Qingxuan grabbed his wrist.

Her hand was very cold, her palm covered in cold sweat, gripping so tightly that her nails almost dug into Huang Mao's flesh.

That level of force wasn't like holding hands; it was more like a drowning person clutching a piece of driftwood.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if drawing some kind of energy from Huang Mao's pulse.

Three seconds later, she opened her eyes.

The panic in her eyes was forcibly suppressed, replaced by a "burn-the-boats" kind of determination.

She unmuted the phone.

"Mother," Leng Qingxuan's voice carried a faint tremble, but more than that, an unprecedented firmness, "I'm at a friend's house."

"Friend?" The voice on the other end finally had a hint of fluctuation, albeit extremely faint. "Male or female?"

"Female."

Leng Qingxuan looked at Huang Mao, the pressure of her grip increasing. "A classmate I just met at university, also... also a literature major. I want to stay at her place for a while."

"Stay for a while?" The voice on the other end rose slightly. "Qingxuan, we have a driver at home, a nanny, and the best soundproof piano room. I don't think you need to bother others."

"It's not a bother."

Leng Qingxuan's speaking speed increased, as if she were reciting lines prepared long ago, but Huang Mao knew this was all her improvisation.

"The school has a group project recently, and we need to spend a long time working together. Besides, I want to experience group living; it will help with my... my social skills."

Huang Mao raised an eyebrow.

The excuse she made up was full of holes, but to be able to say this much under these circumstances was already an extraordinary performance.

"Give her the phone."

Leng Qingxuan's breath hitched.

"What?"

"Give the phone to your friend." Her mother's voice left no room for doubt. "I want to check the environment and thank her for taking care of you while I'm at it."

It's over.

Leng Qingxuan's face instantly turned pale.

Huang Mao was a grown man; the moment he spoke, even if he just coughed once, this clumsy lie would instantly collapse.

What would await her then would definitely be a devastating blow.

Huang Mao frowned, preparing to take out his phone to search for a "voice changer app," or simply suggest hanging up by pretending the signal was bad.

But he felt his wrist tighten.

Leng Qingxuan didn't hand over the phone.

Her hand slid down Huang Mao's wrist, finally interlocking tightly with his palm. Fingers entwined, palms pressed together.

It was a close contact with no gaps.

She gritted her teeth and directly interrupted her mother: "She's in the shower."

"Qingxuan?"

"Mother, I'm already twenty."

Leng Qingxuan spoke into the phone, her voice suddenly rising a notch, carrying a burst of long-suppressed emotion. "Do I not even have basic judgment in your eyes? Am I bound to bring shame to the family?"

"I just want to... finish my studies properly in a slightly more relaxed place."

"Please... at least give me a little trust."

"I have never let you down."

After saying this, she seemed to have exhausted all her strength, slumped onto the sofa, only the hand gripping Huang Mao still refusing to let go.

A long silence fell on the other end of the line.

This silence was even more nerve-wracking than the interrogation just now.

Every second was stretched into a century.

Huang Mao could even feel the skin on the back of his hand being pierced by her nails. But he didn't move or make a sound, just let her hold on.

This wasn't just a hand; it was her only support at this moment.

An unknown amount of time passed—perhaps a minute, perhaps an hour.

Finally, a voice came from the other end.

"Mind your manners."

At that moment, Huang Mao clearly felt Leng Qingxuan's hand shudder violently.

"Don't trouble others. Sleep early and wake early. You must not neglect the piano." Her mother's voice was still flat, as if reading a verdict. "Send me your location. I'll have someone send some gifts over this weekend. Since you're staying at someone's house, etiquette must be observed."

"...I understand."

"Rest early."

"Beep—beep—beep—"

The call disconnected.

The dial tone echoed in the living room, sounding particularly piercing.

Leng Qingxuan maintained the posture of holding the phone, motionless. After several seconds, she let out a long breath.

"Phew..."

This breath was extremely long, as if she were exhaling all the pent-up frustration accumulated over twenty years.

"I... I survived..." she murmured to herself, her voice as weak as if she had just finished a marathon.

Huang Mao looked at her, didn't say anything, just moved his left hand.

Leng Qingxuan finally realized.

She looked down at her hand interlocked with Huang Mao's. Their palms were pressed tightly together, and because of the excessive force, they were even a bit flushed and red.

This posture... was a bit excessively intimate.

"Ah!"

As if she had been burned, she suddenly threw off Huang Mao's hand and shrank into the corner of the sofa.

Her originally pale cheeks instantly flushed, turning so red they almost looked like they were bleeding.

"S-Sorry! I didn't mean it! I was just... I was just too nervous, my mind went blank, and I just subconsciously..." She explained incoherently, her eyes not daring to look at Huang Mao at all.

This was the first time!

The first time holding a boy's hand, and it was under these circumstances, and she had been the one to initiate the grab!

If her former suitors knew about this, they'd probably all want to kill themselves by running into a block of tofu.

Huang Mao looked at the several crescent-shaped nail marks on the back of his hand, some even oozing a bit of blood.

He sighed helplessly and flexed his wrist. "It's fine. But Classmate Leng, with your grip strength... if you didn't practice piano, you'd probably be a natural at rock climbing."

"Sorry..." Leng Qingxuan buried her head in her knees, her voice muffled like an ostrich, "Did I hurt you?"

"It's okay, it's not broken."

Huang Mao stood up, went to the water dispenser to get two cups of water, and handed her one. "Drink some water to calm your nerves."

Leng Qingxuan took the cup and sipped it, the warm liquid flowing down her throat finally making that bone-chilling cold recede a bit.

"So..."

Huang Mao leaned against the back of the sofa and looked at her. "From now on, you're officially stationed at this 'stronghold'?"

Leng Qingxuan put down the cup and looked up.

Those eyes were still red, carrying a bit of lingering fear, but when she looked at Huang Mao, there was an added sense of total trust.

"Yes." She nodded vigorously. "Sorry to trouble you, Mr. Landlord. I'll be very obedient and definitely won't cause you any trouble. You can just treat me like an invisible person, or... or like an extra figurine in the house?"

Seeing her cautious manner, terrified of being kicked out, the slight annoyance Huang Mao felt from being scratched completely vanished.

"No need to be so nervous."

Huang Mao waved his hand. "There aren't that many rules at my place. Slump however you want to slump. That 'hungry ghost' look you had while eating noodles earlier was quite good; it made the meal look appetizing."

"Pfft." Leng Qingxuan couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Was I really that exaggerated?"

"Yes, quite."

The atmosphere finally relaxed.

Leng Qingxuan hugged her knees and looked at Huang Mao, her eyes flickering slightly.

At that moment just now, when her mother's voice bore down like a mountain, only this man's hand was warm and steady.

That kind of sense of security was something she had never experienced before.

Since she had already lied, since they were already "accomplices," did that mean... even if she made a slightly more excessive request, he would agree?

"Um..."

Leng Qingxuan bit her lip, a plotline she had seen in a manga a few days ago suddenly popping into her head—the female protagonist, trembling from fear of a thunderstorm, pleading with the male lead...

As if possessed by some impulse, she asked, "Huang Mao, do you have... any of those really big plushies here? Or can you just..."

"Plushies?" Huang Mao was taken aback. "No, I don't play with those."

"Then..." Leng Qingxuan's face was as red as an apple, her gaze drifting. "Since there aren't any plushies and I'm a little scared, could you..."

As she spoke, she suddenly snapped out of it and shook her head vigorously.

"Then could you tell me where the bathroom is! I want to go take a shower!"

As if to hide her embarrassment, she stood up abruptly. "I'm covered in cold sweat; it feels awful."

"The bathroom is on the second floor, first door on the left. Body wash and shampoo are on the shelf." Huang Mao pointed upstairs. "By the way, even though it's just the two of us, for everyone's sake, remember to lock the door."

"Nag! I know!"

Blushing, Leng Qingxuan dashed upstairs as if escaping.

Watching her flustered back disappear around the corner of the stairs, Huang Mao shook his head and sat back down on the sofa.

"Was she... looking for a hug just now?"

Quiet returned to the living room.

But this silence was different from the deathly stillness before; a faint girlish fragrance seemed to linger in the air.