Chapter 16: The Hammer Shattered the Lock Part 1

“It’s fine. As long as the problem gets solved, right? Maybe I really don’t have enough ability to give you peace of mind.” Ji Zhenshi’s expression didn’t change as she pulled her hand back.

She didn’t even glance at Li Yunli. Instead, she kept her head down and muttered, “I just wanted to tell you not to come looking for me at school. It’s Saturday—no classes today—and tomorrow’s Grandma’s birthday, so I’m heading back to my parents’ place.”

With that, Ji Zhenshi walked off without lifting her head, stuffing her earbuds into her ears and shoving one hand in her pocket as she strode away quickly.

She was afraid Li Yunli would show up at school and find nothing, so she’d stuck around just to give her the heads-up.

Stubbornly refusing to look at Li Yunli, yet unable to bear the thought of her making the trip in vain.

Ji Zhenshi curled her lip, suspecting she might have a bit of a split personality.

“Xiao Zhen, don’t go. I just don’t want you under so much pressure. Your main job right now is studying—how could you take on debt like that? Besides, I have a rough idea of how much money you have, and you’ve definitely borrowed a ton.” Li Yunli reacted swiftly this time, her slender white arm blocking Ji Zhenshi’s path as her bright eyes gazed at her.

Ji Zhenshi, are you just bullying me because I can’t speak?

Remembering the past, when had Ji Zhenshi ever stormed off twice in a row without a second thought?

She knew Li Yunli couldn’t call out to stop her, so was this her way of venting?

Blocking the path so firmly, Ji Zhenshi slung her backpack over her shoulder with a thud. “I said I didn’t borrow much. And even if I did, it doesn’t matter now. If you don’t need it, I’ll just pay back my friends.”

“But you’re still mad. If my refusing your help hurt your pride, then I apologize. I’m truly sorry.” Li Yunli instinctively stepped back from the force of the backpack, but her gaze remained fixed on Ji Zhenshi without wavering.

This tantrum from Ji Zhenshi was unprecedented—or rather, ever since Ji Tingjun got out of prison, there had been several times when her sudden moods left Li Yunli at a loss.

It wasn’t the playful bickering of before; this was genuine, irrational anger.

A young girl’s thoughts were growing harder and harder to fathom. Li Yunli felt powerless, with no way to handle Ji Zhenshi. Her usual tactic of yielding seemed to have lost its edge.

“You!” The moment Li Yunli lowered her head in that familiar, predictable way, Ji Zhenshi bristled like a cat with its hackles raised, her emotions surging as she opened her mouth to speak.

But when she looked up and met Li Yunli’s gaze—those eyes brimming with tenderness—her resolve softened against her will.

Scratching her hair, Ji Zhenshi realized that if they kept talking, she might say something truly hurtful. So she braced one hand on the railing and vaulted over it with her long legs.

“I’m not mad! Really, I’m not! I know that in your eyes, I’m just a powerless kid. How could you ever rely on me?”

Her voice faded into the distance, the pain in her words unmistakable.

Perhaps Ji Zhenshi simply couldn’t understand why Li Yunli always refused to try leaning on her—why she habitually put herself on the giving end, bending over backward to accommodate Ji Zhenshi’s feelings even at her own expense.

Ji Zhenshi hated it. She didn’t need Li Yunli’s indulgent tolerance every time, nor did she like her self-sacrificing compromises.

Li Yunli watched helplessly as Ji Zhenshi walked away, a stabbing pain piercing her chest, her heart pounding wildly.

“Xiao Zhen, does this mean you don’t want me anymore?”

She murmured the words in her mind, then felt they were pointless. Want or not—it was she who was rejecting Ji Zhenshi’s help, after all.

She just hadn’t wanted to burden her or add to her stress. Li Yunli hadn’t expected things to spiral like this.

It wasn’t that she didn’t rely on Ji Zhenshi; the issue was already resolved, and she didn’t want her saddled with debt on top of it.

Helplessly watching the retreating figure that never looked back, Li Yunli stood rooted to the spot, frustration weighing heavy on her chest.

She could handle rude demands from customers with poise and firmly refuse to marry Ji Tingjun while keeping her financial independence. But with Ji Zhenshi, she was truly helpless.

…

Ji Zhenshi trudged all the way to the bus stop, glancing back but seeing no familiar silhouette.

Irritated, she yanked off her earbuds and leaned against the bus stop sign.

Fine rain had soaked into her thin clothes along the way, chilling her shoulders. A gust of wind made her shiver uncontrollably.

Why did it suddenly feel so cold?

Was Li Yunli still standing there in the rain? Getting wet and then hit by the wind could easily make her catch a chill.

“Ji Zhenshi, are you some kind of masochist?” she muttered to herself, inwardly cursing her own weakness. They’d just parted on bad terms, and here she was worrying about Li Yunli again.

A wave of exhaustion hit her. She’d rushed back from out of town straight to the coffee shop, spent half the day dealing with drama, and now her chest felt stuffed with pent-up frustration, nearly killing her with anger.

Ji Zhenshi was glad her temper wasn’t that explosive; otherwise, she really might have pissed herself to death.

She slowly closed her eyes. In her mind, Li Yunli’s hurt expression as she left surfaced—along with the uncontrollable rage that had boiled up when that suited man offered to help her.

All her bad temper ended up dumped on Li Yunli alone, but Ji Zhenshi couldn’t control it. She was terrified of seeing Li Yunli accept help from another man.

Whether it was just fear of her having someone else to rely on—or something deeper—she couldn’t say.

It just felt like her unique affection was being poached by someone else.

“Zhenshi, you’re back? No classes today? It’s been a while since we’ve seen you around, kiddo.”

“Isn’t that the Ji family’s daughter? Long time no see. Been busy lately?”

Back in the familiar alley, a neighbor recognized her. Ji Zhenshi gave a polite smile. “Hello, Grandma Liu. No classes on Saturday. I’ve been tied up with competitions lately, so I haven’t had much time to come back. Getting dinner ready?”

“Yep, just some greens tonight. You’ve gotten skinny, haven’t you? Look at you—no meat on those bones. Young folks shouldn’t be dieting all the time. My granddaughter’s the same, skin and bones and still skipping meals to lose weight.” Grandma Liu’s eyesight wasn’t great, so she leaned in close.

Truth be told, she couldn’t really tell if Ji Zhenshi had slimmed down—it was just a way to keep the conversation going, with her usual bit of nagging.

Ji Zhenshi touched her chin and chuckled softly. “Nah, this is just my natural build.”

“You still need to eat well out there. Hey… you’re back today. Oh, right—tomorrow’s your grandma’s birthday, isn’t it?” Grandma Liu had watched Ji Zhenshi grow up. She chatted often with Yang Ying and knew Ji Zhenshi had a famously rebellious streak, but a quick bit of neighborly gossip was harmless.

Mainly, Ji Zhenshi didn’t match the wild, unruly image Yang Ying painted. She was polite, greeted people in passing, had good grades from childhood, got into a solid university—and her personality was just strikingly bold.

Everyone in the courtyard had a positive impression of Ji Zhenshi. They’d watched her grow up and knew her true character; Yang Ying’s gripes couldn’t sway that.

Ji Zhenshi had planned a quick greeting before heading in, but the mention of Grandma made her pause mid-step. “Yeah. No matter how busy, I have to come back for that. Grandma Liu, you’re home all the time and see her often—how’s she been lately?”

Her grandma frequently chatted with these peers to pass the time, so asking them felt more reliable.

Better than quizzing Yang Ying, who was always off playing mahjong and never home. Ji Zhenshi trusted these unrelated neighbors more.

“Sigh, it’s just one of those unavoidable things. Your grandma’s not doing great—keeps forgetting stuff. She’s always muttering about when Xiao Zhen will come visit, worrying if you’re eating well at school, if you’ll be back on the weekend. At that age, it’s normal.”

Ji Zhenshi’s grandma was showing early signs of dementia, sometimes forgetting even her own son and grandsons. But deep down, she remembered her Xiao Zhen, always talking about when her little girl would return.

Ji Zhenshi gripped her backpack strap tighter, silent for a moment before saying, “Got it. Thanks, Grandma Liu. I’ll head in now—you go ahead with what you’re doing.”

“Sure.”

She walked down the alley to the familiar spot and pushed open the heavy security door into the courtyard.

The Ji family home resembled a small courtyard house: one room per person, central living area, modest in size. Usually, it was just her parents and grandma living there.

Oh…

Ji Tingjun was probably mooching off them without a job, too.

A motorcycle sat in the yard—clearly his, upgraded from his old ghost-fire bike.

Invariably gotten by wheedling money from their parents in front of Yang Ying.

Ji Zhenshi shot the bike a disdainful look. Thinking of his brazen demand for money from Li Yunli made her want to kick it.

What nerve.

With a cold snort, she ignored it and walked past.

The yard was lush with vines and fruit trees, a small patch of veggies well-tended—clearly Grandma’s handiwork.

She plucked a ripe red cherry tomato, wiped it on her clothes, and popped it in her mouth, calling out before even entering her room, “Grandma, I’m home.”

The tomato wasn’t enough; her hand wandered to the grapevine, snagging two unripe grapes that made her grimace at the sourness.

Not ripe yet, and she’d picked them anyway.

“Grandma, these grapes are so sour.” Managing her expression, Ji Zhenshi stepped into the living room and bumped straight into disheveled Ji Tingjun.

Their eyes met, mutual hostility plain as day.

Ji Tingjun yawned, sizing her up. Still fuming from hitting a wall with Li Yunli, he sneered, “Well, if it isn’t our little family traitor, the big shot. Even busybodies remember they have a home? Thought you’d never set foot in this door again.”

His voice grated. Ji Zhenshi flicked her eyes at him and brushed past without a word.

She had nothing to say to Ji Tingjun. Talking more would just piss her off in the end; she wasn’t about to suffer that.

Plus, he’d just rolled out of bed at three in the afternoon. With habits like his, mooching endlessly—Ji Zhenshi had no idea where Yang Ying got the confidence that her son would turn into some great success.

“Ji Zhenshi, I’m talking to you—are you deaf? You really think your wings have hardened?” Ji Tingjun wouldn’t let it go.

He’d hit a wall with Li Yunli, and when he messaged her again after getting home, she’d blocked him.

That left a bitter taste he couldn’t swallow. If she hadn’t agreed to the two hundred thousand, he’d have stormed over that morning.

He needed cash now, and her offer had him thrilled.

Besides, he thought Li Yunli was just a mute. Without her looks, he wouldn’t have even considered marrying her.

“You’re so boring. Nearly thirty and proudly leeching off your parents. Please, Mr. Ji—harden those wings already, or it’s just pathetic.” Ji Zhenshi smirked mockingly.

Ji Tingjun shrugged it off, thinking of the two hundred thousand coming his way, actually feeling pretty good. “Oh? And the one cozying up to that mute cares about what people think? Ji Zhenshi, haven’t you noticed? We’re alike, us siblings—we don’t give a damn about others’ opinions.”

The madder Ji Zhenshi got, the funnier it was to him—especially since she couldn’t change that Li Yunli still owed two hundred thousand to cancel a marriage bought for six back then.

“Could you stop calling her a mute?” Ji Zhenshi ground out.

“Isn’t she one?” Ji Tingjun replied matter-of-factly.

“Idiot.” Her mood was already foul; she only held back seeing Grandma watching TV in her room.