“You just prefer side characters, that’s all.”
“Come on, I don’t feel consoled at all!” Wei Shuyu’s voice rose a bit. “Maybe I just relate more to side characters’ lives.”
Never the one drawing the most attention, no matter what.
Even with her own charms, ultimately overlooked by most. That was her.
“Unlike you,” she said softly. “You must be the center of the world.”
“I’m hardly the center of the world.”
Jin Yizhu shook her head and gave her a rare serious look, whether unintentionally or seeking comfort.
“Clearly the first in line to inherit, yet marginalized in the family conglomerate. Holding a QS top-20 degree, reduced to playing office politics in my own company… If no one cares about expertise, why make me study it in the first place?”
“Jin Yizhu.” Wei Shuyu looked at her steadily and spoke slowly. “You might not feel it now, but every step you take matters.”
“Really?” Jin Yizhu looked at her, shook her head as if unwilling to dwell on complexities, and abruptly changed topics. “How about Blue Bay Restaurant tonight? They do French cuisine.”
Wei Shuyu nodded.
French cuisine wasn’t the point; pairing it with wine was.
She shouldn’t have brought up such a real-world topic in the park. After such a joyful moment, switching to this—how else but drown it in alcohol?
Jin Yizhu booked Blue Bay Restaurant on her phone. With time to spare, they headed to the castle first.
The castle under the sunset was as beautiful as ever. The already colorful building was now coated in a layer of pale golden light, making it even more dazzling.
Jin Yizhu pulled her along and took photos in front of the castle. She did not care about how the photos turned out and just stood there, gazing at the final glow before sunset.
They drank a lot of wine during dinner.
Tokyo Disneyland’s French cuisine naturally could not compare to Michelin-starred restaurants, but in the happiest place on earth, the atmosphere made even people feel a bit more lightheaded.
Wei Shuyu did not hold back. When the server asked for her first round order, she chose whiskey.
“Not drinking martini today?” Jin Yizhu asked her. “Why start with something so strong?”
“You’re drinking too,” Wei Shuyu said defiantly. “Why can’t I?”
“Your tolerance is terrible. You’ll end up collapsing on me if you drink too much,” Jin Yizhu said with a laugh. “I’m different. I can hold my liquor.”
“You’re even proud of it,” Wei Shuyu muttered. “What’s wrong with collapsing on you?”
A pan-seared steak sat untouched in front of her, knives and forks idle. She had already drunk more than half her glass, her brows and eyes curving first as she looked at Jin Yizhu with an inexplicably coquettish air.
Jin Yizhu wanted to take the glass away from her, but the person before her… with reddened corners of her eyes, misty with a fog of water, looking at her innocently yet slyly—Wei Shuyu. She simply could not bear to… whether to tell her not to drink or to say she lacked restraint, she could not bear any of it.
“It’s fine… it’s fine…”
Jin Yizhu said softly. She was uncertain; everything felt so strange.
Wei Shuyu was coquettish toward her, openly expressing her dependence without any disguise. She both enjoyed it and felt pained by it.
“Are you drunk?”
“Not at all,” Wei Shuyu said, widening her eyes slightly and looking at her strangely. “Why ask that?”
“Then why say that? Leaning on me?” Jin Yizhu asked her. “Don’t you think that’s going too far?”
“Does it?”
Wei Shuyu breathed lightly. Hooked—the sense of boundaries, that wondrous magic, the dividing line between straight girls and lesbians.
It was just leaning for a moment. Even if they leaned together, so what? Even if their fingers intertwined, so what? Even if skin pressed against skin, so what?
That was friendship, after all—in endless spiritual comfort, physical contact had long blurred into boundarylessness. Only lesbians would care about such things.
“I’m not kissing you. What’s wrong with leaning?”
Jin Yizhu had no answer to her question.
What was wrong with leaning? Of course nothing, it should be nothing, but her breath, her scent, her warmth… it clearly made her heart race. She felt uncomfortable, yet did not know exactly where the discomfort lay.
Foie gras, caviar, steak—all tasteless.
Jin Yizhu felt hungry, but it was not the kind of hunger the food before her could satisfy.
She looked at Wei Shuyu, who sat across from her, seemingly oblivious to her thoughts, calmly eating her steak.
That earnest posture made Jin Yizhu want to ask if the steak here was that good. Why did she not think so? If it was so good, why had it not earned three Michelin stars?
Why did she eat so seriously? Was the alcohol here that good? Why did her cheeks flush red, yet she refused to stop and even asked the server for another glass?
“I didn’t know you liked whiskey on the rocks,” Jin Yizhu said, sipping her wine before setting the glass down. “It’s not as good as Hibiki 21. What’s with your taste?”
“I have no taste,” Wei Shuyu admitted frankly. “Does it matter?”
Jin Yizhu did not answer. She did not know how to.
She knew her own answer: it did not matter. The taste of the wine did not matter, nor did the food. Who came to Tokyo Disneyland to eat? No one did.
Jin Yizhu felt stifled. Wei Shuyu was the type who flushed easily from alcohol; after the first glass, red bloomed on her face.
She gazed at Jin Yizhu, even reaching out her hand to hold Jin Yizhu’s. Her usual aloof aura vanished, leaving only dependence, attachment, and utter trust.
Things others would find repulsive fascinated Jin Yizhu.
She grasped Wei Shuyu’s wrist, feeling the slightly cool skin, looking at her reddened eye corners, and sensing the frequent glances thrown their way. She felt increasingly irritated.
“The fireworks are about to start. Let’s finish eating and go watch, okay?”
Jin Yizhu reached out and cut Wei Shuyu’s steak into small pieces, almost wanting to feed her bite by bite.
“Have you seen Tokyo Disneyland’s fireworks? They go with the parade floats. Very pretty.”
“I’ve seen them.”
Wei Shuyu watched her leisurely, like a declaration of war, and said:
“I saw them during the school trip, Jin Yizhu. You’re not the first.”
“So what?”
Jin Yizhu looked at her impassively:
“This will be our first time watching fireworks together.”
Wei Shuyu stared at her fixedly, her alcohol-fogged mind briefly clearing.
…So cute, this resolute Jin Yizhu, so possessive toward her. Damn it, she did not want to trouble herself over Jin Yizhu anymore, but Jin Yizhu was looking at her, eyes full of desire for her.
She was no naive girl; she could clearly sense others’ desire for her.
She only chose whether to respond or not, but Jin Yizhu was someone she could not ignore.
“Fine, fine,” Wei Shuyu said, hastily eating a few bites. “Let’s go watch the fireworks.”
“Are you full? Going now,” Jin Yizhu said suspiciously. “You barely ate anything.”
“It’s fine. I’ve had enough calories already. Appetite isn’t that important.”
Wei Shuyu pulled her hand and ran all the way to the castle front, somewhat out of breath, her panting carrying a hint of delicacy:
“You want to see the fireworks more, right?”
“But I don’t want you to feel unwell,” Jin Yizhu said, standing close beside her, shoulders touching, dispelling the late spring chill. “Your happiness matters more.”
“I think the same.”
The moment the first firework bloomed, Wei Shuyu turned her head and gazed at Jin Yizhu:
“Your happiness matters more, so I want you to see the fireworks.”
Cinderella’s float passed slowly before them. Amid the brilliant lights, Wei Shuyu tilted her head slightly, exposing her neck, laying her slender vulnerability bare for Jin Yizhu—as if all it would take was a reach to claim her completely.
“Jin Yizhu,” she said, “I hope you can have everything, do whatever you want.”
Do whatever I want?
Her fair, porcelain-like skin and fragile throat exposed before Jin Yizhu—was this temptation? Intentional or not? Was she seducing her? Why seduce her? For love, or money? Did she love her? Was it love that made her willing to offer everything?
Countless thoughts flashed through Jin Yizhu’s mind. She knew who she was: the Eldest Miss of Mid-Levels, someone who could touch anything with a reach, who in this money-driven world could have everything.
But could money buy this person’s soul? She did not know.
She knew clearly, though, that Wei Shuyu was not someone she could buy. She had seen that exhibition—Wei Shuyu’s talent, the power in her soul, something no amount of money could purchase.
She, accustomed to buying everything with money, how could she obtain the person before her?
“Why?” Jin Yizhu asked her. “For what?”
“For nothing,” Wei Shuyu said, looking at her with eyes like a martyr’s, no retreat. “I just want you to have what you want. Can’t I?”
Can’t I? I just love you so much and want you happy.
Jin Yizhu seemed to understand, yet did not.
She looked at Wei Shuyu, at those clear eyes that held nothing yet contained all the world’s truths.
Another cluster of fireworks exploded overhead.
Cinderella had passed; the butterfly-winged float departed. Next came Rapunzel, breaking free from her tower toward the free sky.
Freedom, our weapon—only freedom.
Jin Yizhu never watched musicals, yet at this moment recalled the only one she had seen with Wei Shuyu.
Freedom—was that what she wanted? What she truly wanted, freedom or Wei Shuyu?
In the pitch-black night sky amid the brilliant floats, Jin Yizhu suddenly reached out and pinched Wei Shuyu’s chin.
Wei Shuyu was a little startled but not too surprised.
If Jin Yizhu understood, if she figured it out, if she knew…
She would choose this.
Under the bright moonlight, as fireworks bloomed, the castle was bathed in dreamlike colors.
Jin Yizhu did not know what bewitched her. She pinched the chin of the person beside her and, as if possessed, kissed down.
So soft.
Incredibly soft lips, Wei Shuyu’s suddenly widened eyes, and her flushed cheeks.
“Close your eyes when kissing.”
Jin Yizhu said a line from somewhere she had seen, pulling slightly away from Wei Shuyu’s lips. After the warning, she kissed her again.
Soft and warm lips, sweet-tasting lips. She had no idea how to kiss properly, just pressing down abruptly and heavily. Wei Shuyu obediently closed her eyes; her heart pounded nonstop, as if about to burst from her chest.
Did Jin Yizhu know what she was doing? Wei Shuyu’s mind was in chaos.
This was Tokyo Disneyland, the most magical place on earth, where anything could happen without seeming strange.
But, but…
Jin Yizhu, do you know what you’re doing?
Do you know what kissing a girl means?
Do you know kissing is not something friends do?
“Jin Yizhu…?”
Even after the fireworks ended, Jin Yizhu’s kiss did not stop.
Such a pure kiss, just lips on lips, purely innocent beyond belief—no movements at all. Was it that she did not know how, or did not dare? Probably did not know; Jin Yizhu never lacked daring. She had kissed her—what else would she not dare?
Wei Shuyu was utterly confused, not knowing what to do, and simply covered her cheeks with her hands.
“What the hell are you doing…?”
“Kiss when I want to.”
Jin Yizhu’s tone was nasty; clearly, she had not realized what she was doing. She did not let go and instead pulled her into an embrace, kissing messily again.
“What’s wrong with a kiss?”
