014 No matter how fair she is, can she match my legs—long, slender, and beautiful?

“Here.”

Yan Li had just left the stables and arrived near the small grove when he saw Qin Lan waving at him repeatedly.

Since the last time they met, Qin Lan had changed her outfit again.

Her hair was tied in a ponytail, sparkling earrings adorned her ears, she wore a beige off-shoulder T-shirt, paired with a blue denim mini skirt. Her long, slender legs, perfectly proportioned, caught the sunlight in a way that was hard to look away from.

Yan Li had to admit, his previous comparison between Qin Lan and Dong Xuan’s figures had been rather hasty.

Dong Xuan did have some advantages in physique, but when it came to legs, Yan Lan clearly had the upper hand.

In fact, Dong Xuan was a bit taller than Qin Lan, but the leg-to-body ratio and aesthetic appeal favored Qin Lan by a noticeable margin.

Noticing Yan Li’s somewhat distracted gaze, Qin Lan let out a triumphant little hum.

Got you stunned, didn’t I?

Hah! No matter how fair your ex-girlfriend is, does she have legs as long, slender, and beautiful as mine?!

“Looking for me?”

Qin Lan’s legs were indeed captivating, and Yan Li enjoyed the view, but staring too long would be impolite.

The best approach was to engage her in conversation to divert her attention, while subtly sneaking glances—both satisfying his eyes and maintaining decorum.

“Can’t I look for you when there’s nothing urgent?”

At the mention of this, Qin Lan couldn’t help but grind her teeth; her voice grew a little stiff.

The last time they met, she set aside the matter of fate and destiny. She had invited Yan Li to dinner, and they had a pleasant conversation. When Yan Li learned she was being harassed by a suitor, he even offered to help intimidate him.

She had thought their relationship might change after that.

After all, she was a stunning beauty, and having shown some interest, this meant something unspoken between young singles.

If Yan Li had any intention, he would have at least called or texted her daily, or asked her out to make a move.

But Yan Li’s approach was the opposite. After a few days, they had only one phone call—a call she initiated.

Initially, Qin Lan thought maybe Yan Li was busy with his schedule and simply had no time.

But when she inquired, she found out that although he was busy, it wasn’t so busy that he couldn’t meet or call her. He just didn’t have time for her; yet, he went to the stables quite often.

What’s so special about those horses?

Qin Lan gritted her teeth, mentally scolding Yan Li profusely.

In truth, despite the “fate” excuse, Qin Lan and Yan Li had only met a few times.

Even with a good impression, it was more about fondness and mild attraction, perhaps some hormonal daydreaming—not genuine love or deep affection.

Qin Lan had her pride. She wasn’t a woman who would chase after anyone, especially someone like Yan Li with high standards.

If fate wasn’t on their side, then so be it.

Yet, despite this, Qin Lan felt a bit stifled and uncomfortable. She had deliberately dressed up to meet Yan Li, partly to show off.

To make him regret having no eye for beauty!

Of course, if Yan Li realized his mistake, sincerely apologized, and lowered himself to appease her, Qin Lan might have considered giving him another chance.

But it was clear Yan Li had no such intention. In fact, his reason for coming today was mainly to ask Qin Lan for a favor.

“Of course I can look for you when there’s nothing urgent. Actually, I do have something I want to ask you to help with.”

Yan Li’s words shattered Qin Lan’s last glimmer of hope. She wanted to roll her eyes and walk away but stopped herself after a moment’s thought.

To be fair, Yan Li had never shown any ambiguous behavior. It was her imagination running wild, overlooking his true intentions.

Perhaps he had simply regarded her as a friend all along.

Yan Li treated her as a friend, even offering to step in against her suitor. She called him, and he immediately came, assuming she needed help.

Now that he actually had a favor to ask, it would be unreasonable and unfriendly to throw a tantrum over baseless suspicions.

After a mental struggle, Qin Lan convinced herself and softened her tone considerably.

“Alright, what help do you need?”

“No rush. I can’t have you help for free. Let’s eat first. It’s on me.”

Yan Li understood the principle of feeding the horse to make it run. When he rode his dragon horse, he even fed it carrots and apples. Asking Qin Lan for help, he couldn’t just ask for nothing in return.

“Fine, do you have enough money? I’m picky about where I eat.”

Hearing Yan Li offer to treat her, Qin Lan’s mood improved slightly, and she began to prepare herself.

She was willing to help, but the knot in her heart hadn’t fully loosened. She planned to use this favor to vent some frustration on Yan Li.

“Whatever you want to eat, just order.”

Yan Li was generous. When asking for help, one must be ready to pay up. No matter what, he could afford a meal.

“Such generosity. Then I won’t hold back.”

Though Qin Lan loudly proclaimed she’d be demanding, she still chose the same restaurant they’d been to before, just adding two extra hearty dishes and upgrading the drinks.

“This is your version of not holding back?”

Yan Li watched Qin Lan bustling about washing cups and plates, feeling a bit helpless.

With her earlier lion’s roar, he’d thought they’d be going to a fancy city hotel for abalone and lobster, and he was almost resigned to eating the crew’s boxed meals thereafter.

“I’m not stupid,” Qin Lan snorted. “How much can you really spend in Hengdian? If you want to splurge, you’d better wait until we’re back in Beijing. Consider this meal your interest. When we’re back, I’ll treat you properly.”

“No problem.”

Yan Li could tell she was tough on the outside but soft inside. Even if she treated him to a few more meals back in Beijing, it was unlikely to reach four figures.

“Alright, what favor do you need from me?”

Curious, Qin Lan asked. Yan Li smiled warmly, helping her with the food and pouring wine.

“No rush. We’ll talk after we finish eating.”

His approach made Qin Lan feel uneasy—she didn’t want to get herself involved just for a meal. She set down her chopsticks.

“Come on, tell me. I’ll eat after you finish.”

Yan Li looked a little embarrassed. “Actually, it’s nothing big. There’s a scene I’m not quite sure about, so I wanted you to help me rehearse, get a feel for it.”

“Oh, it’s just that.”

Qin Lan relaxed. This sounded like no big deal.

From their last chat, she knew this was Yan Li’s first time playing a prominent role. It was normal for him to feel inexperienced and uncertain.

Qin Lan had gone through similar experiences, even working hard privately on the set of “My Fair Princess 3,” often rehearsing with familiar people. She understood Yan Li’s mindset.

“Sure, I’ll help you. I’ll make it crystal clear for you.”

Qin Lan took charge, adopting the mentor’s role.

In truth, she had only acted in two or three shows, mostly minor roles, while Yan Li had spent a year in various productions and training at the Beijing Film Academy. It was hard to say who had more experience.

But since he was asking for help, she played along, even letting him call her “sis,” smiling as she continued to serve the dishes.

“Thank you, really appreciate it.”

After finishing the meal, they returned to the grove, finding a secluded spot free from disturbance—perfect for rehearsal.

Yan Li handed Qin Lan the script to familiarize herself. She flipped through it briefly.

In less than a minute, Qin Lan looked up at Yan Li five times, her expression shifting from confident to confused, ending with a bitter, speechless look.

“Is it too late for me to regret coming?”

Yan Li shook his head politely. Jokingly, he said, “We already ate. You’re not running away now…”