Chapter 52: Manager Li Is Way Too Submissive

“She actually agreed to have dinner with you? She doesn’t seem like the type to make friends easily. What on earth did you two talk about for her to set up another meal right on your first meeting?” Ji Zhenshi stuffed a spoonful of rice into her mouth. Only after emerging from the warm haven of Li Yunli’s embrace did she belatedly register that crucial point.

Tang Xien had actually agreed to dine with Li Yunli?

Had they really never met before?

“You two haven’t crossed paths before, have you?” Ji Zhenshi asked suddenly.

She truly found it baffling. Tang Xien wasn’t someone who’d accept an invitation from just anybody—let alone from a total stranger with no connection.

At those words, Li Yunli’s expression stiffened. She lifted her gaze toward Ji Zhenshi.

The girl was earnestly digging into her meal, her left hand idly toying with Li Yunli’s fingers in hers. It seemed like nothing more than a casual question.

Steadying her nerves, Li Yunli replied calmly, “Actually, it’s because of Xiao Zhen. I could sense that although she doesn’t seem approachable, she’s someone driven by the same passion for the violin as you. You’re kindred spirits. A true artist like her probably values fellow travelers most, so she doesn’t mind a little overlap with your life.”

“So she’s not as standoffish as she appears?”

Li Yunli glanced sideways at Ji Zhenshi wolfing down her food in big bites.

For some inexplicable reason, the same dishes seemed to taste even better when they reached her mouth. Watching her eat inexplicably lifted Li Yunli’s spirits.

The explanation failed to strike a chord with Ji Zhenshi, who pouted. “She couldn’t care less about overlapping with my life. She’s an odd one—no need for socializing, no need for friends. Her rare outings are solely for violin connections. I even butted heads with her once when I pried too much into her business. I spend almost every day with her, so I know her far better than Sister A-Yun does.”

Why call Tang Xien odd?

Ji Zhenshi had never met anyone who could loop a single track thousands of times. Outside work, she always had headphones on, and those were invariably playing “Annie’s Wonderland.” Ji Zhenshi knew it had surpassed ten thousand plays because she’d accidentally glimpsed Tang Xien’s phone once.

A few hundred loops would bore anyone to death, yet she never tired of it?

“You really think you know her well?” Li Yunli asked.

“No, I don’t really know her either—just better than Sister A-Yun does. She’s got ‘story’ written all over her, which makes her peculiar. Probably no one truly gets her, but you can’t deny she’s an excellent teacher—a violin artist, even.” Ji Zhenshi offered a candid assessment of Tang Xien.

In her eyes, Tang Xien was perfect for collaboration, not friendship.

Li Yunli unscrewed a bottle and passed it to Ji Zhenshi, mulling things over in silence for a moment. “Xiao Zhen, everyone harbors secrets. Some people are wired not to lay themselves bare. You need to understand that. Don’t label her strange just because you don’t know what she’s endured.”

Tang Xien didn’t strike her as the therapy type, and neither was she. No one would believe it, but hadn’t they both gone?

Without sharing the same perspective, true empathy was impossible.

“Oh, okay. I just thought what she told Sister A-Yun sounded different, that’s all.” Ji Zhenshi murmured her agreement, sensing the mood turn heavy. She steered away from the topic. “Sister A-Yun, why not stick around this afternoon? We can head back to the coffee shop together. Tonight, I want to sleep with you.”

She bit down hard on the last three words, her eyes on Li Yunli sparkling with unmistakable suggestiveness.

At last, she could wrap her arms around her fragrant, soft sister again. She’d been longing for this forever.

Li Yunli, still immersed in her own thoughts, simply gave a gentle nod.

Not wanting to keep her waiting any longer, Ji Zhenshi set down her chopsticks and picked up her violin once more. She ran through the accompaniment pieces again and again.

Truth be told, she was already very familiar with them. But Tang Xien demanded extra practice—no slip-ups allowed onstage. Only perfect mastery would let her weave in her personal flair seamlessly, leaving room for true expression.

Perched on a high stool, Ji Zhenshi played on and on, while Li Yunli sat nearby watching her. Hours passed without a hint of boredom.

“Sister A-Yun, aren’t you bored?” A bit worried that Li Yunli might tire of waiting, Ji Zhenshi fished a tablet from her bag. “I’ll need just a little longer—it’ll be quick. You could binge a drama in the meantime.”

“No need. Watching Xiao Zhen is plenty.” Li Yunli smiled tenderly.

The months of pent-up longing finally melted away that day.

So this was Xiao Zhen practicing. Those brief onstage minutes demanded endless offstage prep. Her poise onstage was forged from sweat.

“Fine, if you’re watching me, how about I sing you a song instead? Call it intermission.” Ji Zhenshi set aside the violin, grabbed the guitar from the corner, settled in front of the microphone, and tweaked the sound system.

“Sister A-Yun, what do you want to hear?” Ji Zhenshi winked at her, deliberately dropping her voice to a husky timbre.

She strummed the guitar strings casually, exuding total confidence.

No way—could this girl play guitar too?

Li Yunli watched, the corners of her lips lifting. “I like anything you sing.”

“Maybe you’ve heard a song called ‘Encounter’? Its chorus nails how I’ve been feeling lately, so I’ll sing it for you.”

The thought popped into Ji Zhenshi’s head unbidden—she’d heard it that morning and pulled up the sheet music on her phone.

She cleared her throat and found her pitch.

“We took the long way around just to meet—I know your worth better than anyone.”

They’d circled around before falling in love, and Ji Zhenshi had always cherished Li Yunli above all. She’d clasp her hand and stay together forever.

Sixteen-year-old Ji Zhenshi, savor this fluttering heartbeat. Because twenty-two-year-old you made it happen.

The girl who once hummed tunes against Li Yunli’s chest had blossomed into a graceful young woman. Now cradling the guitar, she boldly laid her heart bare once more, threading sweet nothings straight into Li Yunli’s pounding pulse.

Li Yunli couldn’t pinpoint when her heart had first stirred, but Ji Zhenshi remembered every moment: late nights quietly studying beside her at the desk, stolen glimpses of her practice sessions. Each one was engraved in the girl’s heart, striking chords of infatuation.

Thank goodness sixteen-year-old Ji Zhenshi had been so greedy. At twenty-two, she finally had Sister A-Yun all to herself.

Ji Zhenshi’s voice rang clear and lovely. She hummed without any goofy theatrics, her mouth curved in quiet confidence as she fixed her unwavering, blazing gaze on Li Yunli.

She always smiled so brightly, her grin radiant and dimpling her cheeks ever so slightly.

She didn’t actually have dimples, but her perpetual cheer made it seem that way.

Her simple features were strikingly captivating, drawing the eye inescapably. Meeting her gaze set one’s heart racing to her rhythm, pulsing solely for her.

Those fingers dancing over the strings were elegantly jade-like—stunningly beautiful. Once, they had interlaced firmly with hers, enveloping her in unyielding strength.

“I only like you—like a secret half-hidden, spilling out word by word in my gaze.” Ji Zhenshi tapped her foot lightly and hummed another line off the cuff.

Then she blanked on the lyrics, sticking out her tongue sheepishly. “Forgot the words. Heard it this morning and haven’t memorized them yet. But it’s for you. Sister A-Yun, I’ve always liked only you.”

No secret anymore.

“Xiao Zhen’s such a good girl.” Li Yunli gave her a thumbs-up.

Ji Zhenshi grinned, tempted to strum more, but her thoughts were all Li Yunli. She set the guitar aside. “Doesn’t that earn me a reward?”

She scooted insistently into Li Yunli’s lap.

Li Yunli turned at the sound, her lips grazing Ji Zhenshi’s.

It was premeditated.

“Back to practice. It’ll be late otherwise.” Li Yunli ruffled Ji Zhenshi’s hair.

A tacit yes to heading back to the coffee shop together.

Ji Zhenshi peeked out the floor-to-ceiling window. Nearing six o’clock, the sky was dimming. Li Yunli had waited hours here.

They usually wrapped up around eight or nine, but fearing boredom, Ji Zhenshi said, “Never mind, skipping practice today. Let’s go home.”

“I can wait. Take your time if you want to practice.”

“Nope. I want to go home with Sister A-Yun.”

Ji Zhenshi slung her backpack over one shoulder and took Li Yunli’s hand with the other.

Rush hour meant crowds, so Ji Zhenshi held Li Yunli’s hand while waiting for the elevator. “I’m thrilled today. Loving lunch and company for practice.”

Plus, it was Li Yunli’s first visit to her workplace—pure elation.

“Xiao Zhen’s so easy to please. Doesn’t Miss Tang keep you company during practice usually?” Li Yunli teased.

That cocky delight made her seem ready to wag her tail after one meal.

Elevator doors slid open. Ji Zhenshi tugged Li Yunli inside—higher floor, empty car. She blinked, eyes twinkling. “Because you’re special. You’re family.”

Li Yunli was irreplaceable.

Swept into her arms again and backed into the corner, shielded by her body from the world, Li Yunli nestled into Ji Zhenshi’s shoulder, warmed once more.

Such unabashed favoritism. Such a comforting embrace.

Li Yunli slowly closed her eyes. In the elevator’s hushed minute, she listened to Ji Zhenshi’s breathing, feeling her presence vividly.

This was happiness, wasn’t it?

“Hey! Xiao Ning, brewing coffee?” Ji Zhenshi flung her arms wide and bounced up to Xiao Ning, greeting her with blazing enthusiasm.

The abrupt arrival startled Xiao Ning, who fumbled the cup.

Ji Zhenshi snatched it midair with lightning reflexes, then shot her a suave wink. “Say thank you?”

Flexing again, sis.

Xiao Ning looked up. The perpetrator beamed brilliantly, and trailing elegantly behind came Li Yunli—poised and graceful, bag in hand and an indulgent smile at Ji Zhenshi’s goofiness.

“Yunli Sis.” Xiao Ning greeted her before turning to her intentional scarer. She patted her chest and reclaimed the cup. “Xiao Ji, You totally jumpscared me on purpose, right?”

It had been a while. Ji Zhenshi was brimming with vigor once more.

She remembered the last visit: cold-faced, smacked, and stormed out.

The thought made Xiao Ning stifle a chuckle. She snuck a glance at Ji Zhenshi’s cheek.

Ji Genius, how’s the face holding up?

“You were the one zoning out, Sister Xiao Ning?” Ji Zhenshi propped herself on the counter with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m just too chicken,” Xiao Ning replied, smirking at her face.

The happier Ji Zhenshi looked, the more laughter bubbled up in Xiao Ning.

Noticing the stare and snicker, Ji Zhenshi touched her cheek. “Why laugh at me while you talk?”

“Nothing. Just glancing around.”

Ji Zhenshi narrowed her eyes, wheels turning. She yanked Li Yunli’s sleeve, face full of grievance. “She’s laughing at me!”

Laughing at her getting disciplined—bold as brass.

Didn’t she have any shame?

“Tsk, tsk. Not a little kid anymore, yet crying to tattle at the slightest thing.” Xiao Ning jabbed unhurriedly.

Li Yunli set down the bag and casually rolled up her sleeves. “See? Can’t bail you out, Xiao Zhen, or she’ll roast you worse.”

“Me? She’s the one laughing! If you hadn’t…” Ji Zhenshi huffed indignantly, trailing off.

If Li Yunli hadn’t smacked her where it could be seen, would Xiao Ning have this fodder?

“Did Xiao Ji flunk out of kindergarten?” Xiao Ning fanned the flames.

“Xiao Ning, quit poking at her.” Li Yunli patted Xiao Ning’s shoulder, signaling a halt.

Or soothing the brat would be a chore.

Ji Zhenshi perked up instantly, squeezing between them and slinging an arm around Li Yunli’s shoulders with a cocky brow raise. “Better listen to Manager Li, or your paycheck’s toast.”

“…”

Xiao Ning rolled her eyes, declining to argue with the triumphant imp riding her boss’s coattails.

Manager Li’s discipline didn’t seem all that effective.

Xiao Ning finally ducked behind the curtain into the back kitchen to wrap up closing duties. With Li Yunli back, she could punch out at seven.

Once Xiao Ning was gone, Ji Zhenshi turned. “Sister A-Yun, diving straight into work the second you’re back? No break?”

Li Yunli pulled up the computer to review the day’s till, indulging Ji Zhenshi’s clinginess. “Rested all afternoon, remember?”

Ji Zhenshi’s hand on Li Yunli’s shoulder wandered downward mischievously, vaguely kneading the dip of her waist. Seeing no attention her way, she asked, “How’d sales go today?”

Li Yunli jotted two entries in the laptop, jotting “Not bad” beside them in cool detachment.

So aloof—where was her tender Sister A-Yun?

Utterly sidelined, Ji Zhenshi pouted and nuzzled her forehead against Li Yunli’s shoulder. “Sister A-Yun tunes me out the moment work starts.”

A handful of straggling customers lingered, though none eyed the counter. Still, Li Yunli felt a flush of embarrassment.

She pressed a hand to Ji Zhenshi’s forehead. “Go amuse yourself over there for a bit. Or if you’re beat, head upstairs, freshen up, and rest. Okay?”

Ji Zhenshi used to sit primly in her designated spot. Now she stuck like glue, and with bystanders, Li Yunli found public affection awkward.

Ji Zhenshi, however, was utterly unfazed.

“No way. I wanna stay with you. Let me help out?” From behind, Ji Zhenshi hugged her tight, mouthing offers of aid without lifting a finger. Her nose-tip grazed Li Yunli’s earlobe, her heated breath ghosting her neck.

Her palm pressed to Li Yunli’s waist, savoring the lithe curve.

She was slim, the span of her hand flat against the taut plane of her abdomen.

Li Yunli had always been delicately slender, yet softly curved where it counted. Ji Zhenshi’s lips quirked slyly inward. At last, she could openly admire her sister’s figure.

“Xiao Zhen…” Li Yunli’s fingertips clenched, a spark of inner heat kindled by Ji Zhenshi’s touch. She couldn’t help glancing into those eyes growing hazy with desire.

Public venue. Li Yunli drew a steadying breath.

“Mmm.” Ji Zhenshi hummed with intimate promise, hugging her closer.

Gently turning Li Yunli to face her, their eyes locked. In the next breath, Ji Zhenshi leaned in for a kiss.

Li Yunli couldn’t evade in time. Pinned against the marble edge, she yielded to the fervent press.

Xiao Ning hadn’t anticipated a double dose of dog food mid-shift—and from Li Yunli and Ji Zhenshi, no less.

Definitely not platonic sisterhood.

She clucked her tongue. Who’d have guessed these two flaunted it so shamelessly in public? Her boss cornered like that, eyes flushing red under the onslaught—Xiao Ning blinked in disbelief.

Manager Li, you’re way too submissive. Zero fight-back.