Chapter 28

The air-conditioned waiting hall maintained a perfect 27 degrees, but Jin Yizhu still felt hot.

She undid the first button of her shirt and made small talk. “How have you been lately?”

“Pretty good. I have a final exhibition. Do you want to come? It’s tomorrow.”

Wei Shuyu walked a step beside her without taking her arm.

Eat too much candy, and you lose the sense of its sweetness. The right way was to keep that candy forever unpredictable, never knowing when it would land in your palm.

“Don’t you have any luggage today?”

“No, I have a place in Tokyo now. Why would I bring luggage?”

Jin Yizhu glanced at her, but Wei Shuyu showed no reaction, still keeping a step beside her without reaching out to link arms.

It felt a bit strange, though she couldn’t pinpoint why. Something was just missing.

Jin Yizhu suppressed that odd feeling and asked, “How has Uncle He been lately?”

“Uncle He?”

Wei Shuyu paused mid-step, recalling the exchange in the car earlier. Something had indeed happened.

“What have you been doing in Hong Kong?”

She asked bluntly, no longer beating around the bush.

The parking lot wasn’t far—just an elevator ride down, then a few hundred meters’ walk. Ten minutes at most.

“You can drive, right?” Jin Yizhu said casually. “I’m planning to fire him.”

“I can drive, and I’d be happy to play chauffeur for you,” Wei Shuyu stopped walking, “but…”

In the bustling crowd, she stood still while Jin Yizhu didn’t notice at first and kept going.

After a few extra steps, Jin Yizhu realized Wei Shuyu hadn’t followed.

Fine, she couldn’t fool her after all.

Jin Yizhu backtracked a few steps. For some reason, Wei Shuyu’s directness and overstep didn’t anger her. Instead, it brought a subtle sense of relief.

Relief that she actually cared, relief that she wanted something from her, relief that Wei Shuyu was gradually shedding her tough exterior in front of her, revealing a soft interior.

“Why did you stop?” she asked.

“Jin Yizhu, if you need me to do something, at least tell me what you’re doing.”

Wei Shuyu’s voice was cold, utterly unlike her usual gentleness, carrying a hint of anger.

“Didn’t you say it yourself? I’m yours, so you should trust me.”

She knew full well this wasn’t what a canary should say.

But Jin Yizhu had never treated her as a canary from the start, had she? From the friendship game to the declaration of seizing the heirloom, hadn’t Jin Yizhu wanted her as a shield behind her back?

“Sorry,” Jin Yizhu smiled faintly, though her tone held no real apology. “How about we grab coffee before we go?”

Without waiting for Wei Shuyu’s answer, she turned into the nearby coffee shop and asked her:

“Latte or matcha frappé? Latte it is. Your hands are so cold—don’t drink anything iced.”

“I’m not sick, that’s why my hands are cold,” Wei Shuyu muttered. “Your good driver scared me.”

“Oh?”

Jin Yizhu paused, unable to resist turning her head to look at the person beside her. Wei Shuyu kept her head down, fiddling with her nails, her dark lashes trembling slightly.

“Americano, hot latte, matcha frappé,” she said softly after ordering. “I got one for you, but you can only taste it.”

Wei Shuyu looked so irresistible like this.

She was already slender and thin, her shoulders so fragile they seemed like they’d collapse in a breeze. She’d walked quickly earlier, and now a faint flush colored her pale cheeks. Even those calm eyes seemed to hold a sheen of moisture, as if harboring endless grievances.

Damn it, what exactly did Uncle He say to her?

Jin Yizhu grew even more restless. Once the coffees arrived, she found a quiet spot and sat down.

The café was small, tucked inside the airport with no natural light year-round. Only the overhead lights shone down, casting onto the two cups on the table. The iced Americano in its glass gleamed faintly, beads of condensation sliding slowly down the side.

Jin Yizhu propped her chin on her hand and pushed both cups toward Wei Shuyu.

“Yours,” she said, looking at Wei Shuyu. “Don’t be scared. Whatever he said, it’ll be the last time he speaks to you.”

Her voice was casual, yet it brimmed with absolute possessiveness.

She hadn’t come just to accompany her shopping, had she?

Wei Shuyu knew she was the real gift here, but it didn’t matter. As long as she got the desired outcome, the process and reasons were irrelevant.

Jin Yizhu didn’t want her drinking anything iced—whether out of genuine concern for her health or sheer control freakery, she didn’t care. She simply set the frappé aside obediently and said, “Only a taste, huh? Then I’ll drink it later.”

Her tone was pitiful, trailing off at the end, more heartrending than a kitten soaked in the rain.

She cradled the hot latte in her palms, not drinking yet, just watching the steam rising from under the lid, letting that warmth seep into her hands.

Jin Yizhu, meanwhile, chugged a big gulp of the iced Americano. The bitterness hit hard; she furrowed her brow but didn’t set it down, just pressing her tongue against her teeth.

“Wei Shuyu,” she stared at the cup, unable to hide the anxiety in her voice, “what exactly did Uncle He tell you?”

To be fair, she didn’t want to drag Wei Shuyu into all this—at least not now.

She just hoped Wei Shuyu would always stand by her side, understand her, support her, hold her hand. That would be enough.

But after just a short separation, someone had made her show this expression!

It felt like a giant hand clutched her heart, making even breathing difficult. Before she knew it, Jin Yizhu bit down on the straw, enveloped in inexplicable rage.

Wei Shuyu looked up at her, keenly sensing the shift in her mood.

She reached out, grasped Jin Yizhu’s wrist, patted it soothingly, then slid down along her knuckles to interlace their fingers.

“Jin Yizhu,” she said softly, “why so tense? I’m not that fragile.”

Jin Yizhu stared at her fixedly, then lowered her head, setting the Americano back on the table with a soft clink. Her index finger traced circles on the glass. “Mm… I overthought it.”

In truth, her mind was a bit chaotic.

At the family banquet, if Jin Yuancheng hadn’t suddenly challenged her, she wouldn’t have declared war so soon.

She had thought about the inheritance for a long time.

In the Mid-Levels circle, everyone knew tacitly that they’d inherit the family business someday; they even chatted about it casually.

She hadn’t thought much of it at first—studying all the way to a PhD, with the family providing plenty of money, wanting for nothing. She figured she was no different from Wei Wei and the others. But after graduation, the signs appeared.

Her father didn’t seem as mild-mannered and gentlemanly as he appeared.

She should have smoothly entered headquarters and gradually taken over the group, but Jing Shenghua interfered, keeping his daughter out of the power center.

Her mother, naive to worldly affairs, always said working at a branch was fine too. Look, not much work, clock in and out, time to eat and shop with friends, come back to Mid-Levels more often. You played so well with that Xu Family kid when little—now that you’re grown, time to think about other things.

Her words dripped with rotten sweetness.

Jin Yizhu found it irritating and helpless, sinking into depression for a while.

Until that rainy night, when the woman at the Grand Theatre entrance sat on the steps, head tilted up at the pattering rain, her chin and neck forming a beautiful arc, more striking than any artwork.

She wanted to claim that treasure; she needed more.

And now, Wei Shuyu sat across from her, holding her coffee cup, steam blurring her face, yet Jin Yizhu could still see her lips curve into a mocking arc.

Wei Shuyu said, “He asked if I knew what you’ve been doing in Hong Kong.”

She said it calmly, without a ripple, merely repeating the words with flat intonation.

When Jin Yizhu heard it, something stabbed at her chest, but it quickly sank. Of course—it was that question. She’d guessed as much.

Uncle He seemed loyal, but that loyalty belonged only to her father.

He would never stand on her side.

If necessary, he’d report every move she made in Tokyo to Jing Shenghua, turning it all into ammunition against her.

He couldn’t stay.

“Did you tell him?” Jin Yizhu asked softly, her fingers tapping the cup lightly—an offhand gesture, but Wei Shuyu saw the anxiety she suppressed.

“Tell him what?” Wei Shuyu’s smile was cold. “I don’t even know what you’re doing.”

In the café, someone flipped a newspaper, another spoke softly on the phone. Amid the noise, only Wei Shuyu’s voice remained even.

The AC was cranked too high; it felt chilly.

Jin Yizhu sat there, her gaze on Wei Shuyu gradually turning complex.

The person before her wasn’t some clinging vine that merely waited for her, needing her care. She wanted to stand openly by her side as a true partner.

“My bad,” Jin Yizhu replied. “I was too busy before and didn’t get a chance to tell you.”

Her voice finally carried genuine apology. In a few sentences, she recounted the past three months to Wei Shuyu.

Wei Shuyu listened, her calm expression slowly shifting to shock, her eyes widening by the end.

“You mean… that cousin who challenged you—you kicked him out of the company?”

Jin Yizhu nodded. “Mm. At headquarters meeting, I caught his weakness. Dad wanted to protect him but couldn’t.”

She said it breezily, but Wei Shuyu knew it couldn’t have been that simple.

“Impressive…” Her lips parted, wanting to say something more substantial, but it felt like overstepping in front of an expert. She gave up. “You’ve worked hard.”

“I don’t get this stuff, can’t help you,” Wei Shuyu’s tone held guilt. “I just don’t want you working so hard. If you need anything from me, just say it.”

“No need.”

Jin Yizhu suddenly wanted to pat her head. Wei Shuyu looked so soft right now, even her cool gaze warmed with color.

She couldn’t quite read it. Was that pity for her?

Someone actually pitied her?

“I…” She wanted to say she wasn’t tired, but under Wei Shuyu’s gentle gaze, she couldn’t lie. “I…”

Only she knew how tough the past three months had been.

On the surface, nothing changed—she was still the Eldest Miss on Mid-Levels, with everything in Hong Kong at her fingertips.

But beneath the glamorous facade, Jin Yizhu first glimpsed the gladiatorial side.

To claim her place, amid surging undercurrents, she devised a trap.

First, she booted her cousin from headquarters, demoting him to a branch. The executives instantly realized the rightful Eldest Miss was returning to claim the throne—picking the right side mattered.

Without overt or covert protection, Jin Yuancheng’s incompetence laid bare. When he returned for the next headquarters meeting, Jin Yizhu showed no mercy.

Yesterday afternoon’s meeting dragged into this morning. She threw out a stack of reports, silencing the entire conference room, finally forcing Jing Shenghua to relent and fire Jin Yuancheng.

The news hadn’t spread yet, but in a couple days, all of Lionheart Group would know: Eldest Miss Jin’s thunderous methods rivaled her renowned father.

The regime change loomed. As the central figure on stage, Jin Yizhu should appear utterly composed—the more nonchalant she seemed, the more it proved her capability.

But who wouldn’t be exhausted by such scheming?

Not to mention the pressure behind it—familial bonds, filial piety, her father’s sullen glares, her mother’s tears. Each one pressed her to bow.

Who cared if she was tired?

Who cared about her heart, except Wei Shuyu?

“Jin Yizhu, let’s go.”

Wei Shuyu looked at her, suddenly stood, and extended her hand.

“Come with me.”

Before Jin Yizhu could react, she pulled her up from the seat and strode out of the coffee shop.

Jin Yizhu had no idea what she planned but didn’t resist, letting herself be led along. She didn’t know where Wei Shuyu was taking her, but it wasn’t toward the parking lot.

Past a certain corner, Wei Shuyu stopped abruptly and hugged her fiercely.

She wasn’t as tall as Jin Yizhu; though she hugged her, it looked more like she had flung herself into Jin Yizhu’s arms.

“Wei Shuyu…?”

Jin Yizhu froze in place. Wei Shuyu’s embrace was warm, unlike her seemingly cold appearance.

The woman’s soft body enveloped her. Jin Yizhu’s tense shoulders softened, and her heart, which hadn’t relaxed the entire way, suddenly eased. She even felt her eyes growing a bit wet.

“Wei Shuyu.”

She called her name again and buried her face in the crook of her neck.

Wei Shuyu gently patted her back. She tiptoed, trying to make herself look a bit more protective.

“It’s okay now, Jin Yizhu. I’m here.”

She didn’t say empty words like it was over or things would get better. Wei Shuyu knew well that what Jin Yizhu had to do wasn’t simple.

Defying her family and not following the predetermined path was already difficult for ordinary people, let alone for Jin Yizhu?

What she wanted was real benefits—to carve a piece of flesh from her father and brothers, to make them return what rightfully belonged to her!

“I’ll be with you,” Wei Shuyu said. “It’s okay now, Jin Yizhu. I’ll be with you.”

She didn’t say more words, nothing more emotional or comforting. She knew how to say them, but she knew Jin Yizhu didn’t want to hear them.

What Jin Yizhu needed wasn’t that kind of thing, but someone who could stand by her side and firmly accompany her.

“……Mm.”

After an unknown amount of time, Jin Yizhu softly responded.

“Wei Shuyu, you can’t deceive me. Never.”