Chapter 152 Chapter 152

This "mysterious boyfriend" was currently sitting in first class on a flight to Los Angeles, scrolling through online comments on his phone. "Sir, would you like an after-dinner drink? Red wine, brandy, or whiskey?" the flight attendant asked, holding a silver tray.

She walked slowly to her seat, squatted down, and asked. Quan Zhilong took off his headphones and nodded politely, "Brandy, please." The stewardess poured it for him gently and placed it on the small table in front of his seat.

The glass shone an amber hue under the dim light. He held the stem of the glass, swaying the liquid before his thoughts returned to his phone.

The website forum had memorized his preferences long ago, and whenever he opened it, it would continuously push him Lia Kim-related scandals. The one he was reading was called: "Spotted on the streets of New York, Lia Kim

Kim walks side by side with a mysterious man. The content is a blurry photo of a man with his back that he has seen hundreds of times, accompanied by a small guess. In fact, he recognized the so-called mysterious man at a glance. He was just the sound engineer that his girlfriend had recently worked with. Even so,

He still felt a pang of resentment. He'd been on tour all year, and they'd only seen each other a handful of times. As his girlfriend's career flourished, the rumors about her became increasingly outrageous—from musicians to DJs to even Uber drivers.

He wasn't there. I don't know if it was some kind of mystical thing, but the more he acted, the less information leaked out. It was probably because they didn't see each other often enough. He felt quite resentful. The comments below were quite diverse:

"I can't really see anything in the photo kkk" "Who is the mysterious man? He looks like a staff member." "Even if he is a sound engineer... the picture of them walking side by side is too ambiguous TT"

"She's been active in New York a lot now, isn't it normal for her to have foreign colleagues around her?" "I think she's more compatible with Haim" "Didn't they say she and Calvin

Is Harris dating? They seem like a good match, more reliable than Korean male celebrities. "Honestly, with her current fame, isn't it easy for her to find a man?"

"Doesn't anyone remember that she had a scandal with GD before? No one mentions it anymore." He was stunned, and subconsciously clicked "like" with his finger. Then he saw the next one: "With GD? kkk that was denied a long time ago, right?

Now, only the old fans know about it. He clearly didn't deny it. Quan Zhilong glanced at the account named "gdlove" with hatred. "He himself has never denied it." Thinking this in his mind,

I couldn't help but reply to this one. The next second, I realized what I was doing, and it felt a bit absurd. Being apart for a long time always makes people feel uneasy, even him.

However, the huge gap between the sweetness during their meeting and the emptiness after their separation was beyond his expectations, not to mention her semi-detachment from YG and these ridiculous rumors. See, even netizens felt that this relationship had no authenticity.

His mood fluctuated, sometimes confident, sometimes anxious. The custom-made jewelry remained locked in the safe, never seeing the light of day. Only after finally arranging this trip did he retrieve the emerald ring.

Yongpei was very worried at the time, but not only did he not make any move, but new rumors kept coming out of Lia's side - soon, the fact that he proposed was forgotten by everyone.

Quan Zhilong took a sip of brandy and absentmindedly read the comments for a while. Suddenly, a message popped up on his phone: lllikejiyong liked your comment.

He simply clicked on the message list, and on the account named peace0818, a smiling cat wearing sunglasses appeared vividly.

He'd been using this account for a long time, never even changing his profile picture. Since he rarely posted comments, his message list was mostly filled with notifications from the forum system.

The only conversation he'd ever had was with a fan who liked to post analysis of Bigbang songs. His eyes fixed on the lemon tree avatar, and with a sudden impulse, he clicked on the homepage.

The other person had long since stopped updating, posting only about his first album. This discovery deepened his frustration. Why? Had she stopped following him? Or was it because she preferred his older style?

Two completely unrelated things suddenly hit him on the same painful point - why was he liked by others, and how long would this likeness last? For the past few months, this question has been haunting his mind like a ghost.

This trip to Los Angeles was a trip he had insisted on making, but considering his nearly tight schedule, it was a bit of a stretch: two flights of over ten hours each, for a mere two nights' stay.

But he needed this kind of confirmation—phone calls, video calls... none of that was enough. Only a face-to-face encounter could truly make him feel that he was still loved. * Quan Zhilong stood in the courtyard for a while.

The night dew was heavy, and he quietly looked at the house in front of him - it was like a one-to-one replica of an American courtyard on TV, with the automatic sprinkler on the lawn making a rhythmic "click, click" sound at night.

The sprinkler spun across the grass, its water jets reflecting a fine mist under the dim light, like a thin layer of gauze. Occasionally, a breeze blew, splashing water droplets into the air, bringing a cool sensation to his face, making him wince.

He had originally planned to stay in a hotel for one night, but after a while on the plane, he couldn't help but change his plans. The windows on the second floor were tightly covered with curtains, with only a ray of light coming through one of them.

Lia should be inside. He hadn't responded to her question yet, so she was probably still waiting for news from him. His eyes drifted to the lemon tree in the corner. Lemon trees were rare in Seoul.

A few bright-yellow fruits hung from the branches like tiny bulbs, making them look familiar. This was where she grew up. He bent down, picked up a small stone, and threw it at the lighted window.

He waited quietly for a moment, his breath dispersing into a white mist in the cold air. For a moment, the image of him handsomely waving at her when she opened the window upon hearing the noise didn't materialize. There was no movement behind the curtains, as if no one was there at all.

"..." Quan Zhilong hesitated for a moment, and began to wonder if he had found the wrong place. The lemon tree that had seemed so familiar suddenly became less familiar.

He frowned, picked up his phone, and once again flipped through the address she'd sent him, confirming the number. It was right. Wasn't it that window? Finally, he sighed and dutifully pressed the dial button. ...

Lia was lying in bed. It was nearly three in the morning, and her parents had already gone to bed. Today was New Year's Eve.

She had just flown back from New York that day. Quan Zhilong's schedule had been adjusted repeatedly, and he was finally able to fly here today for a three-day vacation. Because he would arrive in the early morning, they agreed to rest in the hotel for the night and wait for her to pick him up tomorrow.

But after sending a single message upon landing, there had been no further news. She stared at the screen, waiting and waiting, feeling a little annoyed. If only she had known, she would have gone straight to pick him up.

She spent most of the year in New York, returning home only a handful of times. This bedroom was even less frequently used, its familiar furnishings barely altered: the desk she'd used since childhood still sat by the window, a few faded art posters pinned to the walls.

Compared to myself, constantly being propelled forward, this space seemed frozen in place. Outside the window, it was quiet, the only sound being the wind rustling through the palm leaves, and the occasional low honking of a car on the distant highway.

Gradually, the sound of an engine approached, then died away. Around New Year's Eve, many teenagers in the neighborhood would sneak out to party, she thought. "Click—" There was a soft sound on the glass, and then silence returned.

She glanced up, not noticing anything unusual, and returned her gaze to the screen. The chat interface remained frozen on the message she'd sent, "Have you arrived at the hotel?" Suddenly, her phone vibrated. She sat up abruptly and answered, "Why are you calling so late?"

"Are you asleep?" "Of course not." There was a hint of complaint in his tone, "Oppa hasn't replied to my messages."

During the time she hadn't received the message, she had already imagined several possible scenarios, including getting lost at the airport and being hijacked by the hotel driver. People's imaginations are always more active at night.

Quan Zhilong chuckled: "Miyang, I'm here." She thought he was talking about the hotel and nodded: "Then go to bed early, I'll pick you up tomorrow morning." He was a little helpless. "I'm downstairs, look down."

Lia was startled, her heart beating rapidly. She ran barefoot to the bedside, opened the curtains and looked out—under the dim courtyard light on the lawn, he was standing there, looking up at her with a smile.

Wrapped in a thick coat, he raised his other hand slightly and waved to her. "Long time no see, girlfriend," he said silently. His heart was about to jump out of his chest.

She suddenly recalled the daydreams she'd had as a girl—but the thrill of the real scene was far more intense than the dream itself. It was a strange feeling. It was like two completely unrelated worlds overlapping at this moment.

She had never felt so clearly that they were closer than anyone else. She practically skipped down the stairs and threw herself into his arms. "Welcome home," she said.

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