Peninsula: I'm the Top Streamer

Chapter 670 Relying on Rambling

With everything settled for now, the music show performance officially begins.

The stage lights suddenly went out.

After a moment of deathly silence, the drumbeats began, and the spotlight, like a sharp sword, pierced through the darkness, precisely fixing on four figures in the center of the stage.

The intro to Pink Venom tears through the air.

Kwon Hyun-hyuk hid in the shadows of the back audience seats, his gaze piercing through the surging pink crowd and waving glow sticks below the stage, locking firmly onto the center of the stage.

Kim Jisoo shone brightly on stage.

There's not much to say. Blackpink's comeback promotions were minimal, followed by overseas stages.

They have never paid much attention to the Korean domestic stage.

But precisely because of this, due to the rarity of the stage, it has garnered much attention and popularity among fans.

There's not much to say about the stage itself; Kwon Heonhyuk watched the whole thing.

As the final powerful note faded on stage, the dazzling lights dimmed instantly, leaving behind a sea of ​​glow sticks and deafening calls for an encore.

With tired but still radiant smiles, the four members of Blackpink quickly walked off the stage surrounded by fans, keeping their enthusiasm outside the heavy curtain behind them.

The noise from backstage was overwhelming.

Kim Jisoo lagged slightly behind, wiping the thin layer of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand while subconsciously scanning the crowded backstage passageway with her eyes.

Staff members hurried by pushing equipment carts, familiar artist teams greeted each other, and assistants anxiously rushed forward to offer water and wipe away sweat...

Noisy yet orderly.

However, that familiar tall figure was not in sight.

The smile on her face faded slightly.

"What are you looking for?" Jennie's slightly hoarse voice rang in her ears, carrying the relaxation of a performance and a hint of insight. She followed Jisoo's gaze and scanned the area, then understood.

"Oh~" Lisa noticed too, and leaned closer in to whisper, "Where is he?"

Kim Jisoo immediately looked away.

“Ani,” she said in a calm tone, even with a touch of her usual teasing tone toward the members.

"He probably left a long time ago. He's so busy filming, who knows?"

That's what she said, but she knew perfectly well where Quan Xuanhe had gone.

It was almost inevitable that this man would go to see Zhao Meiyan.

The performance was over, so he naturally had no reason to stay there any longer.

Even though she knew he agreed to visit her on set to congratulate her, once the brief visit was over, his focus would inevitably return to the person he needed to make amends to and comfort.

She understands the logic, but...

She glanced again at the empty entrance to the passage, and a small sense of resentment, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, tickled her.

She was the one who invited him, but when he left, she didn't even say goodbye...

No, not even a shadow can be seen?

Ah.

“Let’s go,” Kim Jisoo took a deep breath, suppressing the last bit of turbulent emotions, and stood up first. She straightened her slightly disheveled stage outfit, regaining the radiant look of Blackpink’s visual center, and her tone returned to its usual crispness.

"Let's go back and remove our makeup? I'm exhausted."

The agents and assistants immediately surrounded them, guiding them to leave the backstage area quickly and discreetly along a pre-planned path before more attention could be drawn to them.

This man…
...

...

...

Zhao Meiyan dragged her heavy steps toward the security door leading to the underground parking lot.

The hustle and bustle of the CJ ENM center's backstage area was shut out by the heavy doors, while the cool air and faint smell of gasoline from the private parking lot greeted visitors.

The exhaustion that followed the recording felt like a tightness that had gripped her nerves all day.

As she rummaged through her delicate little bag, she walked toward the area where her nanny van was usually parked, guided by muscle memory, with her assistant following beside her.

However, as she turned past a row of neatly parked cars, her steps involuntarily paused for a moment.

At the edge of the horizon, beside the nanny van, stood a familiar figure.

It is Quan Xuanhe.

He really was waiting for her here.

The tender, tearful moment in the stairwell that afternoon, and his deep, earnest promise, flooded back into my mind like a tidal wave, washing away the lingering fatigue and the last trace of doubt.

Zhao Meiyan's taut shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly at this moment. An indescribable warm current, mixed with a slight stinging sensation in her nose, quietly washed over her heart.

As if sensing the gaze upon him, Kwon Hyun-hyuk stopped swiping the screen and looked up.

Kwon Hyun-hyuk put away his phone, straightened up, and a gentle smile naturally appeared on his face. His gaze was focused, clearly reflecting her slowly approaching figure.

Zhao Meiyan quickened her pace, her footsteps tapping urgently on the ground, and soon arrived at the car.

"Is it over?" Quan Xuanhe spoke first, his tone as casual as a casual greeting after get off work.

"Mmm." Zhao Meiyan nodded, her voice slightly nasal.

She didn't ask him how he managed to get here without so many people, nor did she ask how long he had been waiting.

Seeing him here, all the turmoil temporarily lost its power.

"You've worked hard," Quan Xuanhe said softly, while his other arm naturally and with irresistible force wrapped around her waist, pulling her into his embrace.

The parking lot was empty, with only the occasional sounds of engines starting and stopping in the distance, and few people around.

This wasn't exactly a private hug, but it did temporarily shield them from the ever-present scrutinizing gazes from backstage.

The assistant, standing not far away, glanced warily to the left and right.

Zhao Meiyan subconsciously raised her hand to his chest, a symbolic push that was barely forceful.

She buried her face in the warmth of his neck and took a deep breath of his cool, comforting scent.

That familiar embrace carried a powerful force, easily dispelling the lingering chill and slight stiffness in her body.

"Get in the car first?" Quan Xuanhe lowered his head, gently rubbing his chin against the top of her soft hair, and asked.

“…Okay.” Zhao Meiyan’s voice was muffled in his arms, a little unclear, with a hint of coquettish dependence.

Isn't this exactly what she wanted? Otherwise, why would she endure so much?

Kwon Hyun-hyuk turned sideways and opened the car door, using one hand to protect her from hitting her head on the roof; his actions were considerate and efficient.

He released his hands from her waist, but did not immediately pull away. Instead, with a soothing gesture, he gently touched the area below her collarbone—a habitual little action that only they understood.

Zhao Meiyan obediently sat down, the soft leather seat enveloping her with his scent.

The van's engine emitted a steady, low growl as it weaved through the quiet streets of Seoul late at night.

The lights inside the carriage were off, with only the ever-changing light and shadow cast on their faces by the flowing neon lights of the city outside the window.

Zhao Meiyan curled up in the comfortable chair, leaning against Quan Xuanhe, as if drawing a sense of calm from him.

The brief hug in the parking lot just now was like a powerful soothing balm, temporarily dispelling the turmoil backstage and the fatigue of the whole day.

She simply closed her eyes, letting his warm palm gently and soothingly stroke her arm or shoulder.

The air was filled with silence, but it wasn't suffocating; instead, it had a sense of tranquility.

The driver tactfully drove the car in a familiar direction, toward Quan Xuanhe's residence.

The car drove into the underground parking lot of the residential complex and came to a stop.

Quan Xuanhe said in a low voice, "We've arrived."

He got out of the car first, walked around to Zhao Meiyan's side, opened the car door for her, and then naturally reached out his hand.

Zhao Meiyan placed her hand in his palm and used his strength to get out of the car.

The elevator ascended. In the enclosed space, only the soft breathing of the two people could be heard.

Zhao Meiyan looked up at Quan Xuanhe beside her.

The lingering resentment and fear she felt, along with a nameless bitterness caused by Kim Jisoo, were now replaced by a heavy weariness and a longing for his protection. The elevator arrived at the floor, emitting a soft notification sound.

"Ding--"

Kwon Hyun-hyuk stepped out of the elevator first, arrived at his front door, and unlocked it with his fingerprint.

The door opened, and the familiar entryway light turned on, casting a warm yellow glow that gently illuminated the space in front of the door.

He stepped aside to let Zhao Meiyan go first.

The moment Zhao Meiyan stepped across the threshold, it was as if she had shed a heavy layer of armor, or as if she had finally reached the side of a ship in a safe harbor after a raging storm.

The physical heaviness and mental tension reached a breaking point at this moment, and I could no longer bear it.

She didn't even bother to change her shoes; she simply closed the door gently behind her and leaned softly into Quan Xuanhe's arms.

The resilience that MC Zhao Meiyan had been forcing herself to maintain completely vanished, leaving only a deep sense of powerlessness and vulnerability.

"tired……"

She pressed her forehead against his firm chest, wrapped her arms around his waist, and spoke in a muffled voice, filled with deep weariness, as if each soft syllable had exhausted all her strength.

Physical fatigue is one aspect, but mental fatigue is even more significant.

Facing Quan Xuanhe at this moment, she felt completely at ease.

Quan Xuanhe immediately tightened his arms, holding her firmly in his embrace, letting her full weight fall on him.

He could feel her body trembling slightly and her weariness.

The embrace in the stairwell that afternoon felt like a rehearsal; now, in their own private space, this dependence felt even more complete and reassuring.

"Ok, I know."

Kwon Hyun-hyuk lowered his head and gently stroked the top of her head with his chin.

The afternoon's promise was now being fulfilled, and he carefully guided her, making her more comfortable.

"Go take a hot shower and relax?"

He suggested in a low voice, his fingertips unconsciously pressing lightly on the back of her neck, where it was somewhat stiff from long-term tension.

Zhao Meiyan snuggled gently against him, savoring the warmth and sense of security, as if leaving him even for a moment would plunge her back into the icy sea.

After several seconds, she managed a weak "...Mm".

Kwon Hyun-hyuk found her some soft slippers and put them on for her. He didn't offer any empty words of comfort, but silently conveyed his message through his actions.

He led her to the sofa in the living room and helped her sit down. "Wait a moment, I'll go get you some water."

As he spoke, he turned and walked toward the bathroom, leaving Zhao Meiyan sinking into the soft sofa, watching his tall figure disappear behind the frosted glass door of the bathroom, and listening to the sound of running water coming from inside.

The sound of rushing water is like a lullaby, gradually relaxing your tense nerves.

A short while later, Quan Xuanhe came out, still carrying the warm, humid air and steam from the bathroom.

"Okay, the water temperature is just right."

The lights were dimmed, and the hot water in the bathtub steamed up, blurring the outline of the frosted glass and also the noise from the outside world and all the unpleasantness of the afternoon.

This small space, belonging only to him and her, became the only reality tonight.

The moment she stepped into the steamy bathroom, Kwon Hyun-hyuk gently closed the bathroom door.

His voice came through the door and the sound of water clearly, carrying a comforting power.

"Go ahead and relax. I'm here."

The warm water, carrying a faint citrus scent, washed away the fatigue accumulated backstage, the saltiness of tears, and the chaotic emotions that had been tangled up all day.

Zhao Meiyan walked out wrapped in a large, soft bath towel, water droplets still dripping from the ends of her hair, her cheeks flushed pink from the steam, looking like a languid cat that had been soaked in water.

Only a warm yellow wall lamp was on in the living room, and Quan Xuanhe was already leaning against the headboard of the bedroom, waiting for her.

Seeing her emerge soaking wet, he put down his phone and asked gently, "Feeling better now?"

"Hmm..." Zhao Meiyan responded vaguely, lazily walked to the bedside, lifted a corner of the quilt and crawled in.

The softness of the bed and the dry scent of sunshine instantly enveloped her.

Almost instinctively, as if seeking a sense of security, she pressed her entire body against Quan Xuanhe's open embrace, burying herself in his arms.

His arms were strong and reassuring, and the steady, powerful heartbeat emanating from his chest through her clothes pounded against her relaxed nerves, making her feel as if she were melting into the warmth of the moment.

Quan Xuanhe naturally pulled her closer, his chin gently resting on the top of her head, inhaling the scent of the same shower gel he wore.

Only the soft breathing of the two people remained in the room.

The silence lasted for a moment.

Zhao Meiyan nestled against his chest, her fingers unconsciously clutching a patch of fabric at the front of his shirt. A small, sleepy, and lingeringly aggrieved voice rang out, muffled, like a soliloquy, or perhaps a private whisper:
"You were really... awful today..."

Quan Xuanhe didn't speak, but tightened his arms around her, his fingers running through her freshly dried, fluffy, soft hair, gently massaging her scalp.

This was his silent reassurance, and also the most effective response, letting her know that he was listening attentively to every word she said.

"I wasn't prepared at all... watching you and her walk over... it was like..."

Zhao Meiyan's voice was even lower, with a barely perceptible sob.

"It's like watching some kind of TV drama, the kind I don't like... her eyes..."

She paused, as if recalling that scene, and shifted uncomfortably in his arms, her fingers clenching tighter.

Quan Xuanhe tightened his grip on her arm and gently patted her back.

"...I feel so panicked and upset..."

She just walked right past me...

She continued muttering to herself, her tone filled with lingering fear and deep resentment.

"I felt like everyone was staring at me, and all I wanted to do was crawl into a hole and disappear."

"Do you know that my hands were shaking when I touched up my makeup later...?"

"I'm sorry, Miyeon."

I apologized this afternoon, and saying it again now still needs to carry weight and warmth.

"It's my fault. I never expected to run into you. And I never imagined... that I would embarrass you so much in that situation." He lowered his head and kissed the top of her head.

"I promise there won't be a next time."

"Hmph...it'd better not be..."

Zhao Meiyan sniffed, as if his apology had slightly eased her grievances, but her stubborn accusations had not stopped.

“You came to visit the set…she must be so proud of herself…and you let her drag you around like that…leaving me all alone there…you have no idea how embarrassed and upset I was…”

Her voice gradually grew sleepy, and the little bit of grievance and helplessness slowly turned into deeper fatigue in the safe, warm embrace and under the reassuring caresses and pats.

The intense emotions experienced during the day receded like the tide, leaving behind only a deep weariness.

"Don't make me do that again..." Zhao Meiyan's voice grew softer and softer, tinged with sleepiness, like the last murmur of a dream.

"Yes, I know." Quan Xuanhe responded softly, feeling the person in his arms becoming more and more relaxed, and their breathing becoming slow and long.

He stopped speaking and moving, maintaining the embracing posture, quietly feeling it.

Even in her sleep, Zhao Meiyan still tightly hugged his waist, burying her face deeply in his chest, as if it were her only safe haven.

Her fingers were still gripping the front of his pajamas, the unconscious force revealing a stubborn sense of possession and dependence.

Even in his sleep, his tense body language never fully relaxed, as if afraid that if he let go, this hard-won peace would slip away again.

Quan Xuanhe lowered his head and, in the dim light of the wall lamp, watched as her slightly furrowed brows, which had been furrowed in her sleep, seemed to slowly relax, leaving only tranquility.

He sighed silently, his eyes filled with complex emotions. In the end, he simply adjusted his position carefully to make her more comfortable, then completely relaxed, his cheek gently pressed against the top of her head, feeling her warm breath brush against his neck.

Quan Xuanhe didn't turn off the light, letting the dim yellow light envelop the two of them.

This small light acts like a barrier, temporarily isolating them from the outside world's disturbances and the tangled web of relationships between them.

Only this embrace is real; it is the tenderness she sought and the warmth he gave her.

The night was still long, and she, nestled in his arms, clung tightly to the temporary peace that belonged to her, and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

Quan Xuanhe closed his eyes, feeling the real weight and warmth in his arms, letting this rare moment of tranquility, which belonged only to him and her, flow by slowly.

(End of this chapter)