Chapter 18: Sharp-Tongued

“I want to sleep here.” Ji Zhenshi lazily opened her eyes, only to close them again after a couple of seconds, her voice coming out muffled.

“How can you sleep standing up? Are you really that drunk and confused? Come back to my place, okay?” Li Yunli sought Ji Zhenshi’s opinion.

Ji Zhenshi kept her eyes closed and said nothing, but the arm around Li Yunli’s neck tightened a little, leaving both of them short of breath.

They fit together seamlessly, impossible to separate.

“Then I’ll leave the cake with Grandma Liu and ask her to pass on our thanks tomorrow. Let’s head back.” Li Yunli supported the limp Ji Zhenshi with one arm while awkwardly signing to her with the other.

Li Yunli definitely wouldn’t feel right leaving a drunk Ji Zhenshi here—no one would take care of her—and she doubted Ji Zhenshi would just settle down and sleep on her own anyway.

When Ji Zhenshi got drunk, she tended to act out, throwing something like a drunken fit.

Ji Zhenshi didn’t catch the signs. Instead, she suddenly looked up. “Your heart’s beating so fast. Am I too heavy?”

Li Yunli paused for a moment, her face flushing even deeper. “No, Xiao Zhen isn’t heavy at all.”

“Then why?” Drunk Ji Zhenshi showed signs of unleashing her talent for unreasonable nagging, her expression dead serious as if determined to get to the bottom of it.

Just how much had she drunk to get like this!

It almost felt like she was bullying Li Yunli.

Li Yunli gave a gentle smile, more than anything, and raised her hand to sign an explanation. But she lowered it again, unsure where to even begin.

Didn’t Ji Zhenshi realize how strange their position was?

The next second, Ji Zhenshi clutched her chest with utmost seriousness. “Huh? My heart’s racing too.”

“Xiao Zhen, you should be holding the left side.” Li Yunli took Ji Zhenshi’s hand and moved it.

Who on earth checked their heartbeat on the right side of their chest?

Ji Zhenshi’s expression had been so solemn earlier that she’d nearly fooled Li Yunli too.

“Oh, my heart really is pounding. Sister A-Yun, want to feel it?” Ji Zhenshi buried her face in Li Yunli’s neck once more.

Truth be told, the moment she’d spotted Li Yunli earlier, all the grievances from the past couple of days had found an outlet. Curling into Li Yunli’s arms made her want to cry—it felt like her rock had arrived, letting her show her vulnerable side without restraint.

Damn it, her eyes were watering again.

Li Yunli figured her signs had gone completely unnoticed; Ji Zhenshi was just talking to herself.

With a silent sigh, Li Yunli struggled to help Ji Zhenshi into the car. Once she was settled, Li Yunli turned to drop the cake off at Grandma Liu’s.

Unbeknownst to her, after she shut the car door, Ji Zhenshi pressed a hand to her heart and murmured earnestly to herself, “My heart really is racing—because I like you.”

Li Yunli, you have no idea that wasn’t a joke.

You don’t know either that I’m actually a despicable person, taking advantage of your soft heart and kindness, greedily trying to keep you forever.

Gazing longingly out the window at Li Yunli’s retreating figure, Ji Zhenshi’s reddened eyes glimmered with faint starlight.

That back view made her look so pounceable.

Li Yunli, the mortal fantasy Li Yunli—Ji Zhenshi’s fantasy Li Yunli.

“Hm?” Li Yunli raised an eyebrow at Ji Zhenshi, who was draped over the window. Though her eyes were hazy, Good Child blinked obediently, like an adorable, docile kitten begging to be petted.

“You’re such a good girl, Xiao Zhen.” Li Yunli’s eyes curved with amusement.

Ji Zhenshi lifted her gaze lazily. There was no sound, but somehow she could sense the affectionate tone in Li Yunli’s signs.

It had to be one of fondness.

Imagining things in Li Yunli’s presence felt romantic—full of fantasy, and thus intensely intimate.

“Mmm, I’m good.”

She hummed ambiguously. Perhaps because of the alcohol, Ji Zhenshi’s usually clear, crisp voice came out husky and low.

Being alone always led to overthinking. The memory of yesterday surfaced in her mind, and her mood plummeted.

She resembled a beast greatly wronged, trapped in a cage with no escape.

Ji Zhenshi’s listless expression made Li Yunli’s smile fade in an instant. Chastened, she withdrew her hand from where it had been about to stroke Ji Zhenshi’s head and returned to the driver’s seat.

After a few seconds of silence, Li Yunli couldn’t hold back. “Are you in a bad mood because you fought with your parents again? Or are you still mad at me?”

For as long as she could remember, every time Ji Zhenshi came home and ran into Lady Yang Ying, it cast a chill over this normally sunny girl.

Ji Zhenshi stayed quiet, head down as she fumbled with the seatbelt in the back, clicking it shut after several clumsy tries.

Her vision blurred in the haze, and she wasn’t even sure herself. The alcohol amplified her restrained emotions—she wasn’t mad at Li Yunli, nor had she fought with her parents.

Was it that high-quality-looking man who’d appeared by Li Yunli’s side, or Lady Yang Ying’s endless disparagement in her ear?

Watching Ji Zhenshi’s focused frown, Li Yunli swallowed the strange sourness in her chest and forced a smile to soothe her. “Xiao Zhen, why don’t you rest for a bit? We’ll be there soon.”

Sulking or not, the drunken Ji Zhenshi still followed Li Yunli back to the coffee shop without hesitation.

Drunk or sober, she chose Li Yunli unreservedly.

Li Yunli drove steadily, and Ji Zhenshi, woozy from the alcohol, actually dozed off in the back seat. In her haze, nightmares ensnared her thoughts.

She could never grasp that person’s hand.

They were so close, so clear—within reach.

She jolted awake. Her strong left hand shot out and seized the slender white wrist, meeting the gentle woman’s gaze.

“Nightmare?” Li Yunli looked at her with concern.

Her hand pinned, Li Yunli’s lips formed two words: “I’m here.”

No sound, but in her daze, Ji Zhenshi swore she heard it.

Snapping back to reality, she looked down at her hand, red from the pressure, and saw Li Yunli’s turning pale from lack of circulation.

The images overlapped—the unreachable grasp in her dream now firmly in reality.

She quickly released Li Yunli’s hand and rubbed her brow. “Sorry, I fell asleep and had a nightmare. That’s why.”

“It’s fine. I was just going to wake you—we’re here. It’s better to sleep upstairs.” Li Yunli explained first, then cradled her reddened hand.

She’d only hesitated briefly over whether to rouse the sleeping Ji Zhenshi.

The little one’s grip was incredibly strong—that sudden stab of pain had been hard to bear. If she could make a sound, she might have cried out.

What kind of nightmare did you have, Xiao Zhen?

Ji Zhenshi nodded. The alcohol numbed her body fiercely; her rationality frayed at the edges.

She pushed open the car door, her legs still unsteady, and let out a long breath. “Shouldn’t have drunk so much.”

They’d just been chatting when she downed several bottles without realizing, plus a few sips of Grandma’s homemade rice wine brewed for months.

Rice wine!

It hit her— she’d fallen victim to a rice wine ambush!

“Lesson learned. Be careful even at gatherings with friends—getting drunk is dangerous and miserable.” Li Yunli steadied Ji Zhenshi, unable to resist pursing her lips at the girl’s persistently furrowed brow.

She held Ji Zhenshi’s waist securely, inwardly marveling at this little one who didn’t need milk to build strength. She looked so slender she might topple in a breeze, but Li Yunli’s fingertips felt the taut muscles beneath her clothes.

Slenderness and power weren’t mutually exclusive, and Ji Zhenshi had both.

Leaning on that familiar shoulder, Ji Zhenshi grumbled, “Has my tolerance gone down? Just a few bottles, and my head feels heavier and heavier—like I’m drunk or something.”

She’d sooner suspect Grandma’s authentic, months-brewed sour rice wine than her own limits.

She wiggled her five distinct fingers in front of her eyes, then held them out to Li Yunli. “Five bottles. I really only had five.”

Li Yunli caught Ji Zhenshi’s hand and laboriously guided the limp girl upstairs.

It was a real workout—Ji Zhenshi put her full weight on her, leaving Li Yunli gasping, her chest heaving.

All she could focus on was getting Ji Zhenshi up there.

No one responding to her was par for the course; even sober, Ji Zhenshi was the only one who “talked” when they were together.

Ji Zhenshi leaned on the wall and climbed the stairs step by step. In the familiar room, she obediently flopped onto the bed the moment she entered, burying her face in Li Yunli’s pillow.

“Sister A-Yun.” She murmured, nearly addicted to the familiar scent.

“Mmm.” Li Yunli responded silently, gazing fondly at the insensate girl on the bed. She lifted the blanket to make her more comfortable.

But the sluggish Ji Zhenshi suddenly opened her eyes. Those beautiful eyes fixed on Li Yunli before she slid off the bed and knelt on the floor by the edge. “Sorry, Sister A-Yun. I forgot I haven’t changed out of these clothes.”

She remembered Li Yunli’s love of cleanliness—no way would she climb into bed reeking of alcohol.

She didn’t want to be disliked.

“It’s okay, Xiao Zhen. Lie down first. I’ll help you wash your face, and then you can sleep.” Li Yunli’s heart ached terribly. She bent to lift Ji Zhenshi back up.

Ji Zhenshi didn’t budge. Raising her eyes slightly revealed the glimpse of cleavage at Li Yunli’s chest, igniting a fire in her that threatened to rage out of control.

Ji Zhenshi stiffly averted her gaze. “Let me catch my breath, then I’ll shower and change. I’m not drunk. I’m perfectly clear-headed.”

They shared the same female form—whatever she had, Li Yunli did too. And while Li Yunli’s figure wasn’t overwhelmingly curvaceous, only she stirred something different in Ji Zhenshi.

“Drunks never admit they’re drunk. You can’t even stand—how do you plan to shower?” Li Yunli’s reproachful gaze fell on Ji Zhenshi, oblivious to how alluring her posture looked from the girl’s perspective.

She already unsettled Ji Zhenshi; this only stirred uncontrollable waves within her.

Sister A-Yun, don’t tease me like this.

Ji Zhenshi shook her head and sat cross-legged by the bed. “I’m really not drunk.”

Determined not to rise or even glance up, Ji Zhenshi left Li Yunli unable to budge her. Helpless, Li Yunli conceded with a nod.

“Okay, not drunk. Ji Zhenshi has great tolerance—how could she be?”

In the end, Li Yunli left the room and returned with a towel and a glass of water.

—Honey water. Drink some.

No signs this time; she stuck a note to the glass for Ji Zhenshi to read.

Ji Zhenshi seemed on the verge of sleep, so Li Yunli tilted her chin up to make her drink.

But as she lifted Ji Zhenshi’s chin, the girl’s eyes reddened at the corners, gazing up pitifully. “Sister A-Yun, I want a hug.”

She felt so wronged—thinking of her locked room, dust-covered awards, rejected violin. With Li Yunli gone these past days, she’d endured so much and just wanted to hide in her arms.

Li Yunli was always the last candy in her pocket.

“Hm?” Li Yunli was surprised by Ji Zhenshi’s emotional volatility tonight—one of the rare times she seemed so complex and inscrutable.

Second time, maybe, for such sudden vulnerability.

“I want a hug.” Ji Zhenshi spread her arms, her eyes burning with longing and possessiveness toward Li Yunli.

Unable to read Ji Zhenshi’s inner turmoil, Li Yunli wondered if leaving her alone had unleashed this barely restrained grievance or something more.

This was Li Yunli—whenever Ji Zhenshi felt wronged, she sought her arms for comfort, no matter how angry she’d been.

You have no idea, Li Yunli—they always bully me.

Faced with Ji Zhenshi’s insistent demand, Li Yunli paused but set down her items and pulled her up to sit on the bed’s edge. “Okay, hug away however you want, Xiao Zhen. Just don’t cry.”

A full, hundred-percent embrace, nestling completely into Ji Zhenshi’s arms.

Patting her back, Li Yunli’s own eyes secretly reddened.

How could someone so sunny and confident suffer like this every time she came home?

“I’m not crying.” Even buried in Li Yunli’s arms, Ji Zhenshi quibbled pointlessly.

Li Yunli nodded, not arguing over whether tears had fallen.

Ji Zhenshi wouldn’t tell her the details, but Li Yunli could guess. No matter the disappointments, a mother’s rejection always cut like a blade, inching across the heart.

It hurt Ji Zhenshi—hurt her deeply.

“Sister.” Tears pooling, Ji Zhenshi clung to Li Yunli’s shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with me studying violin, right? Nothing wrong with loving it, right? Standing on stage, lost in the music, basking in the spotlight—I’m not wrong, am I?”

She sounded like a child desperate for validation, choking as she signed to Li Yunli.

“No, you’re not wrong. Don’t mind them—do what you want. And you’ve always done just that, and done it well, haven’t you?” Li Yunli signed earnestly.

Lady Yang Ying really was an unqualified mother.

Only Li Yunli had the right to say that—only someone who truly cherished Ji Zhenshi could judge.

Eyes red, Ji Zhenshi stared silently at Li Yunli for several minutes before bursting into tears. “Waaah, I knew I wasn’t wrong!”

Kneeling again, she cried without any composure, hands gripping Li Yunli’s knees, tears streaming from her dazed eyes—heart-wrenching yet oddly amusing.

“…”

Helpless at Ji Zhenshi kneeling once more, Li Yunli couldn’t pull her up. So she simply sat on the bed’s edge, waiting patiently for the storm to pass.

Smoothing Ji Zhenshi’s disheveled bangs, Li Yunli glanced down at the faint red mark peeking from the snowy white skin at her chest. She cleared her throat awkwardly and tugged her clothes closed tightly.

She knew Ji Zhenshi got teary and rowdy when drunk, but biting? That was a first.

“Sharp-tongued Ji Zhenshi.” Li Yunli blushed and bit her lip.