Chapter 44

*The Moon Runs to Me*
The layout of Qin Sang’s home was unusual. It was a four-story house, but not just theirs alone; it was a two-family building joined together. White walls, black tiles, sloping roof—after all these years, green moss had grown on the exterior.
The courtyard gate was left open most of the time. Their neighbor next door often worked late shifts and came home at odd hours; there was no real need to close it.
Qin’s bedroom was on the second floor. The building wasn’t tall; at the moment, only that floor had a small lamp lit. She stood under it. By the moonlight she could see the man leaning against his car in the distance. The night couldn’t hide his tall, clear figure.
He was looking at her, eyes full of quiet laughter.
Qin felt a sudden impulse. Her palm grew damp around the phone. Her voice trembled slightly. “If you can catch me, I’ll give you those points back.”
She’d once filmed an action movie. To prepare, she had practiced with the stunt instructors again and again—how to move cleanly, how to land from a jump without hurting herself. She’d been mildly afraid of heights, but for the film, she’d forced herself to overcome it.
Now she was sitting on the narrow window ledge. Her heart was racing and she didn’t know why. It wasn’t fear.
Her fingertips pressed into the window frame. The metal edge dug into her skin, paling the tips of her fingers, but she didn’t care. She only watched him as he stepped out from the shadows, coming closer through the night.
Qin drew a deep breath, braced herself—
And jumped from the low second floor.
She didn’t know whether she was just overly confident, or simply reckless and ignorant. Either way, her leap startled him.
Fortunately, he caught her this time.
“That was dangerous,” Xie Yuncheng said, disapproving. “You really dared to do it.”
“Isn’t it because you’re here?” Qin wasn’t afraid at all. Her eyes curved into a grin. “I knew you’d catch me. And I’ve trained. This height is nothing to me.”
She wasn’t bragging. Back when she filmed that action movie, without any wires, she’d jumped from the fifth floor. The cost had been heavy. The explosion scene had been too risky; when she jumped her angle was off and she’d fractured her lower leg, spending more than half a month in the hospital.
The building they lived in had been subject to housing regulations—self-built houses could be no more than four stories, and the height of each floor was limited. So although it was the second floor, it wasn’t really that high.
“Blame yourself,” Qin added with a smile, shifting responsibility. “Who told you to stay here in the middle of the night? It clouded my judgment. Nothing I can do about it.”
His cool gaze fell on her bright features. His Adam’s apple moved. His voice was low and hoarse. His hand at her waist tightened, holding her closer. “So… does Sang-sang mind being a foolish ruler once?”
His pupils were a light amber, yet at that moment they looked deep and dark, as if something were stirring there. Under the moonlight, his usually proper face took on a dangerously seductive edge.
Qin’s mouth went dry. Nervously, she pressed her lips together and instinctively gripped his shirt. She didn’t push him away. She let that warm breath draw closer.
Suddenly, a dog barked in the distance, followed by a curse. “What are you barking at? Nearly scared me to death. Useless mutt—I walk by here every day and you still don’t recognize me?”
Qin lowered her head against his chest, voice muffled. “That’s probably our neighbor, Uncle Liu, coming home from his shift. He’s Granny Sun’s nephew-in-law.”
In other words, gossip ran in the family—nosy, through and through.
Xie Yuncheng couldn’t help a wry smile. “Seems this foolish ruler isn’t meant to be.”
Qin couldn’t hold back a small laugh. She didn’t know if it counted as schadenfreude or if she just genuinely thought it was funny. She pulled back a little, looked up at him, and said, fighting a smile, “We can’t sleep anyway. Why don’t we elope?”
Her eyes shone, full of endless energy and mischief. She said whatever came to mind—impulsive, passionate, never seeming to tire of it.
It was too easy for that exuberant vitality to pull him in. He lowered his eyes and looked at her gently. “Alright.”
Next door was another row house. Their big dog, “Big Liu,” was an Alaskan—huge, usually chained up in the yard as a guard dog, only let out for walks.
“Big Liu” had just been scolded and now lay listlessly on the ground. Qin glanced into the yard, then turned and held a finger to her lips at Xie Yuncheng, hunching down and tiptoeing forward. He cooperated without complaint.
Suddenly, “Big Liu” snapped to attention. It lifted its head, saw the two figures in the night, and leaped up, barking wildly and straining at the chain until it rattled loudly.
Hearing the commotion, someone came out swearing. “Stupid dog, what are you barking at *now*? It’s the middle of the night—let people sleep!”
Seeing how frenzied the dog was, the man followed its line of sight and looked up. All he could make out were two sneaky shadows—the darkness hid them too well.
“Hey!” he shouted. “You two over there—what are you doing?”
Qin stiffened, but she reacted quickly. Hearing footsteps come closer, she immediately grabbed Xie Yuncheng’s hand. “We’ve been spotted. Run!”
At first she dragged him. But soon her strength gave out, and that warm, broad hand returned the grip—holding hers and taking the lead.
The voice behind them grew distant.
Old-town Ningjiang at dawn was very quiet. Besides the dim streetlights lighting the way for late-returning travelers, there wasn’t another soul in sight.
Hand in hand, they slipped through the alleys like fish in a river—tails flicking, slipping away bold and unhurried.
She had never imagined she’d one day do something this crazy.
She didn’t know how far they ran. Only when she was completely out of breath did they stop. She leaned against a wall, panting. Xie Yuncheng, on the other hand, looked almost unchanged, save for slightly quicker breathing—no sign of fatigue.
What on earth did this man eat growing up? His physical strength seemed better than hers, and she’d spent years working out and filming on sets.
“Feeling better?” he asked, somehow producing a bottle of water. Qin stared at him.
Her suspicious stare made him laugh. “I bought it when we passed the convenience store.”
She took the water and drank a sip, finally getting her breath back.
They’d run quite far. At first they’d only wanted to dodge trouble. Then they just… couldn’t stop.
“Where do we go next?” he asked.
Qin’s gaze drifted. She felt a little embarrassed. She’d dragged him out on impulse and hadn’t thought that far ahead. At this hour, the old town was silent. Besides convenience stores and hotels, everything was closed.
“How about…” she tried, “we get a room?”
His brow lifted. “Are you sure?”
The moment she said it, she regretted it. The suggestion was definitely dangerous. A man and a woman going to “get a room” in the middle of the night sounded loaded. She quickly shook her head. “Forget it. Not really appropriate.”
“Xiao Yan is probably asleep too. It wouldn’t be right to bother her at this hour.”
Now she truly felt troubled. Acting on impulse had serious consequences.
And even if they did try to get a room, she couldn’t. She hadn’t brought her ID, and she’d left her phone on the windowsill.
“How about…” Qin laughed. “We just wander the streets and make do for the night.”
Xie Yuncheng still had the mood to joke. “Our first night after “eloping,” and we’re already homeless?”
“Can’t be helped. My abilities are limited.” Qin rolled with it. “You’re the one who impulsively followed me. You’ll just have to accept your fate. If I’m eating gruel and rough food in the future, so are you.”
“Mm.” He seemed to think it over seriously, as if evaluating the feasibility of her plan. After a moment, his clear features relaxed and his eyes rippled with a faint smile. “Then Sang-sang is willing to marry me?”
The leap in topic was dizzying.
Qin froze. Even her eyes went blank.
She’d never let herself think that far. To her, that scene was pure fantasy.
She’d never dared hope for a future with him.
But right now, it felt as if, just for a moment, she could see that once-distant future right in front of her.
What had once been far out of reach—
felt suddenly within arm’s length.
Her eyes stung. She only wanted to cry—simply, purely—for her long-awaited wish finally coming true.
Wen Shuyu had been right. Meeting again among thousands was no easy thing. A reunion after long years apart was its own kind of incredible romance.
Qin forcibly pressed down the rising heat, deliberately steering away. “Maybe you should focus on how to become full-time first.”
She reminded him on purpose, emphasizing each word. “Intern boyfriend.”
Xie pretended to sigh. “Looks like becoming official is still a long way off.”
“It’s not *that* far.” Qin held up her hand, measuring a tiny gap. “Your chances of making it are pretty good. At least—you earned a few points tonight.”
She had to admit, she’d been incredibly reckless tonight—more impulsive and feverish than she’d ever been.
Maybe it was because the moon had been too beautiful. When she’d seen him waiting under her window, her heart had taken flight.
“Really?” His tone was mild. He suddenly leaned in, naturally wrapping an arm around hers and drawing her into his embrace. Lowering his head, he looked down at her with eyes steeped in warmth. “Sang-sang, can I finish what got interrupted earlier?”
“Sang-sang,” he said, “I want to kiss you.”