Chapter 58: A Light Punishment to Teach a Stern Lesson

Zhong Jia hurried down the stairs with quick thuds of her feet, slipping smoothly through the dense cluster of bodyguards. She stepped out of the unassuming shop and into the air thick with the aromas of fried skewers and barbecue. Just a few paces away, under a tree, stood the person waiting for her—slightly turned to the side, head bowed as she signed an autograph for a fan who had recognized her.

The tree’s canopy was vast, its branches and leaves dense and lush. The streetlamp’s light filtered through in fine, fragmented beams, dusting her like golden snowflakes. A breeze stirred, sending the sparse flecks swaying gently. The most beautiful one danced right onto the tip of her nose.

After finishing the signature and handing back the notebook, Xie Yingnian turned as if sensing something. Midway through the motion, someone leaned in for a kiss, and that golden speck of light drifted from her nose to the other woman’s face. The soft touch brushed her cheek, and she instinctively lowered her gaze, finding her partner’s cool hand and clasping it tight. Her anxiously pounding heart finally settled back into place.

“Didn’t I tell you to wait at home?” Zhong Jia whispered in her ear. “Why couldn’t you wait?”

In the bustling night market, trendy shops lined the way every few steps, and crowds thronged the streets. The little commotion drew some glances, but the strikingly picturesque kiss barely disrupted the city vibe—instead, it sent passersby squealing in delight.

Zhong Jia: “…”

She was so thrilled to see her girlfriend that she’d apparently forgotten they were both public figures.

“Who’s the one who couldn’t wait?” Xie Yingnian replied helplessly. She gripped Zhong Jia’s hand firmly in her palm and, without a word, dragged this fool—who still hadn’t adjusted to her celebrity status—away at a brisk pace.

Zhong Jia stumbled to keep up, glancing back to see the crowd of onlookers swelling. If they’d lingered a moment longer, they might have been swallowed by it. Amid the rush of wind, she asked in all seriousness, “Teacher Xie, do you pull stunts like this often?”

“What kind of stunts?” Xie Yingnian didn’t even bother calling her out on it. Why did she always sound like she was digging a pit to bury herself in?

Oblivious to the warning signs, Zhong Jia huffed. “Last time you taught me how to dodge the paparazzi—you seemed pretty experienced.”

They dodged and weaved, finally shaking off the pursuing eyes. Zhong Jia couldn’t run anymore. Ever since her trip to Wonderful Cloud Temple to ward off Xie Yingnian’s misfortune, her stamina had visibly declined. She used to fantasize about taking charge, but now she was content to go with the flow.

Xie Yingnian scanned their surroundings. Shops bustled with business, complex scents of food wafting over amid shouts, cheers from drinking games, and lively chatter. Plastic awnings separated clusters of friends and family, while colorful umbrellas offered pockets of privacy.

They melted into the sea of people, unremarkable specks adrift.

“Cough… we’re not hiding anymore?” Zhong Jia caught her breath and asked curiously.

The hand lightly stroking her back to steady her breathing slid lower, wrapping around her waist. Xie Yingnian pulled her into a nearby alley. Their footsteps mismatched the flickering streetlamp at the dead-end wall. One step deep, one shallow—the light blinked on and off.

A haphazard stack of crates formed a perfect shelter. Zhong Jia stumbled right into it, her back against the wall. She tilted her head up, her head resting on a familiar softness.

By the time she realized her precarious position, it was far too late.

“It’s been a while, but you still remember the lessons I taught you. Perfect—let’s review.” Xie Yingnian tossed out a question. Right answer? No good. Wrong? No good. Too quick? No. Too slow? No. She doled out punishments on Zhong Jia’s body, light or heavy as she pleased.

Trying to play the good student at a time like this was just plain foolish.

Someone twisted the soft flesh at her waist in petty revenge. Zhong Jia hissed, then tilted her head up, sealing Xie Yingnian’s deliberately difficult mouth with a kiss. The summer night’s unrelenting heat, the stifling air—it all hid the rising flush on her face.

The plea worked for a few seconds. Xie Yingnian pulled back, pinching Zhong Jia’s chin and forcing her away from that dizzying candy-coated missile.

After countless clashes with Xie Yingnian, the not-so-dim girl had learned the ropes: when to bare her claws and scratch, when to wag her tail for a firm grip. She knew exactly.

Her former innocence lingered only on the surface. Through trial and error, she’d picked up the art of seduction. The faint allure about her was lively, her row of earrings along her ear seeming to shimmer with light.

Zhong Jia took Xie Yingnian’s other hand and shook it lightly, meowing like a little cat: “Sister.”

The streetlamp dimmed, then flared back. By then, her lips were claimed. Since getting back together, Xie Yingnian had gradually dropped her facade around her. Even a simple kiss carried the weight of possession.

Punishment or reward? Zhong Jia had no time to ponder. She yielded to everything her partner gave, legs unsteady as she leaned back, clutching Xie Yingnian’s collar. She tilted her head slightly and glimpsed someone passing through a gap in the crates.

Her breath hitched, heart racing. The word “sneaking” flashed through her mind. Heat flooded her neck, creeping to her ears.

Her legs went so weak she nearly slid down, but she remembered vowing to make Xie Yingnian taste the same thrill. Amid their immersion, she sneaked her own advantages—nipping an ear, kissing an eye corner—dreaming she’d come out even. Until…

Xie Yingnian’s hand silently climbed to the drawstring of her sweatpants. Leaning close, she murmured, “Did you forget to answer your own question?”

The girl’s eyes, tinged with arousal, widened in question. The footsteps echoing nearby made her scalp tingle; she even considered begging—at least not here…

Fortunately, they faded into the distance.

“I don’t do this often…” Xie Yingnian’s belated explanation came with the tug of her hand untying the knot. “Only with you.”

Zhong Jia had just exhaled in relief when the woman’s calm voice drew a muffled groan from her throat. Her upturned neck traced a fragile curve against the dingy wall.

It was called planting a landmine—or courting death. This time, she didn’t die completely, thanks to Xie Yingnian’s mild germaphobia. The spot was obviously unclean, and who knew what bacteria lurked on their tools of mischief.

Her schoolgirl dream of becoming a doctor had fizzled out midway, but she’d always been fascinated by it. She knew full well that indulging odd kinks required proper cleaning and disinfection first—though she refused to admit her own kinks were odd.

A light punishment to deliver a stern lesson. The wasted time would serve as chastisement for that mouth straying further down the path of self-inflicted misery.

Often? What was there to be jealous of? Her actress fame, the endless scripts—they meant nothing. For you alone, I’d risk it all.

Being able to indulge anywhere, anytime came at a cost. Xie Yingnian seemed to have eyes in the back of her head. She halted and turned to the dawdling girl. “It’s past two already. When do you plan to get home?”

Thanks to her illness, Xie Yingnian was used to late nights or none at all. But Zhong Jia wasn’t—her constitution was fragile, and staying up weakened her immunity.

Zhou Chun sent over some screenshots via WeChat. In this era, everyone was their own media outlet. The kissing photo had leaked online from multiple angles. In under an hour, it had thousands of shares.

Xie Yingnian glanced down to reply, her tone brazenly forthright: Legally coupled intimate interaction—is that a crime?

In truth, she’d broken the law not long ago: illegal surveillance.

She’d turned back from that path, but after tonight’s unease, she reconsidered. Having this guileless woman under her watchful eye every moment didn’t seem so bad.

One led to two. Zhong Jia was her biggest exception, crumbling the self-control she once prided herself on.

Zhou Chun: Don’t tell me you two are still wandering like lost souls.

Xie Yingnian: Just strolling the streets. The whole city’s in the know now, and I can’t sleep anyway.

A new message popped up. Ni Qian: Meds run out? Or insomnia?

Yeah, insomnia. How could she sleep without her? Before she could reply, the enigmatic Cui Ming chimed in: Xie Yingnian, you’re bold—kissing on the street like that.

The girl who’d landed her in this sweet mess trailed behind, somehow still her usual weight, but acting for all the world like it was real as she squatted on the ground, playing pitiful. “I can’t walk anymore.”

Xie Yingnian turned—not toward her as expected, but squatting down herself. There they were, face-to-face on the near-dawn street at almost two a.m., mere meters apart.

One propped her right cheek with her hand, the other her left. They stared for seconds, then burst into laughter.

“What are you doing?” Zhong Jia drawled, her tone unconsciously playful.

Xie Yingnian looked innocent. “I can’t walk either.”

She watched the girl before her rise, shaking out her baggy cropped pants, circling her knees, clenching her fists, stretching her arms and legs. Pushed away, rejected, deceived countless times—yet that heart never cooled. Vibrant, scorching, utterly sincere, brimming with love that could melt any ice, it drew her step by step closer.

This time, she ran, making the whole world in her view shake. Even the stars and moon tumbled into her eyes.

Xie Yingnian stood and opened her arms first, catching her solidly in an embrace.

She kissed Zhong Jia’s nose, then murmured down at her, “Didn’t you say you couldn’t walk?”

“Between two people, one has to keep moving. If we both stay put, how do we get closer?” Zhong Jia nuzzled her neck affectionately.

That delicate, snow-white skin—so tempting it begged a bite—pulled away soon after. Xie Yingnian turned and squatted again before her.

Zhong Jia hesitated. “Uh, I didn’t mean…”

“Hurry up.” Xie Yingnian’s voice took on an especially alluring edge whenever she turned commanding—no wonder she was perfect for the dominant role.

The added weight settled onto her back. Xie Yingnian reached behind her, gripped Zhong Jia’s legs, and hoisted her up a little. Once Zhong Jia had hooked her arms around Xie Yingnian’s neck, she stood up steadily and securely.

A gentle breeze stirred the air as their breaths mingled in sticky intimacy. “The car’s parked pretty far,” Xie Yingnian said. “We’ve got a bit more walking to do.”

“. . . Mm . . .”

Zhong Jia’s breathing gradually evened out into long, steady rhythms. Xie Yingnian glanced at the head lolling back and forth on her shoulder. “And you said you weren’t sleepy.”

Zhong Jia mumbled groggily, “I’m awake . . . Where are we going?”

Their two shadows stretched obliquely across the ground. With Zhong Jia on her back, Xie Yingnian walked the rest of the way, her tone softening. “Home.”

“Yours or mine?”

A sudden impulse seized Xie Yingnian, and without thinking, she replied, “My place.”