Chapter 37

Jin Yizhu went to the branch office this time for a project meeting.

She had previously been the general manager of Radiance, and now that she had returned from headquarters, everything was familiar. The discussions went smoothly.

When she came out of the branch office, the sky had not yet darkened, but the clouds hung very low, as if gathering rain.

Jiang Zhi hugged her folder of documents and glanced at the sky. “Director Jin, shall I head out first?”

Jin Yizhu was just about to say that she would give her a ride home first, but Jiang Zhi had already slipped into the nearby crowd. She did not even say goodbye, clearly not wanting to ride in the same car as her boss again.

It was very typical—run as soon as work ended; taking the subway alone was better than hitching a ride with the boss.

During the rush hour commute, Mary was stuck in traffic. Jin Yizhu, for once, had some leisure time and watched the scenery outside with interest.

There was a row of ginkgo trees under the Radiance Building. In autumn, the trees were full of golden leaves, a beautiful color. When the wind blew, they swayed gently, as if not quite awake.

About ten minutes later, Mary arrived in her black SUV.

The car stopped in front of Jin Yizhu. Mary rolled down the window, half-joking and half-complaining. “Hey, Eldest Miss, after being your guest driver for so long, let me drive the Silver Angel or something. I wouldn’t be at a loss then.”

“If you want to drive it, just go to the garage and take it,” Jin Yizhu said unhurriedly as she set down her bag. “I have a few cars over there, don’t I?”

Mary rolled her eyes, started the car, and looked back. “I’ll pass. If I so much as bump one of your cars, my month’s salary would be gone.”

During this time as a guest driver, it had been a bit troublesome, but her relationship with Jin Yizhu had grown much closer. Now they could banter back and forth like friends.

When she had first started picking up and dropping off Jin Yizhu, Mary felt the air pressure in the car was extremely low every day; she did not even dare to breathe freely.

Getting on good terms with the group’s sole heir brought, of course, many benefits.

At the very least, now when she was working, no one dared to give her attitude because she was not from Lionheart’s direct lineage.

In that case, what did so-called direct lineage or parachuted-in matter?

In the end, whoever was stronger called the shots.

Jin Yizhu smiled and said, “All my cars have insurance. Are you still afraid I’d make you pay?”

With that, she leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes to rest.

Even in Central, Hong Kong was still like a folded city—opulent indulgence and dilapidated decay, all in an instant.

Outside the car window, a block flashed by. Neon signs flickered; a few snack stalls emitted white steam, and pedestrians held umbrellas, all hurrying along.

At the street corner, the laundry shop’s door curtain was lifted by the wind, revealing the spinning dryer inside, like a sweltering heart, emitting a massive rumble.

The car happened to stop at a red light. Mary glanced at Jin Yizhu in the rearview mirror again; she really could not hold back any longer.

She suddenly turned her head and stared at Jin Yizhu, asking with great enthusiasm, “I heard that during this morning’s meeting, you slapped Wei Shuyu’s resume down with a smack, and those old fogeys from Lionheart’s faces changed instantly. They were so scared they couldn’t even speak?”

Today’s biggest gossip in the group revolved around the meeting drama, and now the protagonist was right in front of her. Mary was dying of curiosity and simply asked directly.

Jin Yizhu did not open her eyes; her tone was light. “This spread so fast?”

Mary’s eyes widened, the corners of her eyes lifting. “Of course? You just finished the meeting, and they exploded. Everyone’s guessing how you managed to find someone like her?”

Hearing Wei Shuyu’s name, Jin Yizhu finally reacted a little.

The corners of her lips curved up unconsciously; she did not even notice that she was smiling.

When others praised Wei Shuyu, she felt happy too.

It was like a child’s treasured possession finally being discovered by others.

Jin Yizhu’s voice carried a smile. “You guess?”

“Guess what?” Mary thought for a long time and finally recalled the name in her mind. “No wonder Wei Shuyu sounded so familiar. Isn’t she the one you had Zhao Qianlin investigate last year?”

In an instant, Mary remembered everything.

Jin Yizhu had gone to the Grand Theatre once and tossed them a name, telling them to dig up all the information on that person.

She had originally thought it was some actor from a theater troupe who had caught Jin Yizhu’s eye on stage. But when they checked, it turned out the person was a somewhat famous artist who had just wrapped up an exhibition in Hong Kong, reportedly sold out and hard to get tickets for.

The magazine published her photo in high grayscale—not quite black and white, but shadowy and indistinct, making her face unclear, yet conveying that aura of keeping people at a thousand miles away.

“Could it be… no way…”

Mary hemmed and hawed for a while before a bold guess bubbled up.

“That person you’ve been hiding in Tokyo—isn’t it Wei Shuyu?!”

“Mm.”

Jin Yizhu admitted it frankly, without any concealment, as if she had been deliberately waiting for the question.

Mary was dumbfounded. “Wow.”

She wanted to say something, but nothing she could say could express her shock at that moment.

Jin Yizhu savored her expression. For some reason, she really liked seeing others moved by Wei Shuyu.

It was just like when she had carefully pored over Wei Shuyu’s resume and unconsciously immersed herself in that brilliant life, feeling that thrill. She wished she could let everyone know how dazzling this person was.

“You’re revealing her now because you plan to bring her to that banquet the day after tomorrow?”

Mary had her schedule and, upon thinking it over, finally realized something. She could not help but ask,

“If Wei Shuyu accompanies you, no one will dare to laugh at you two.”

The overseas division led by Jin Yizhu, Lionheart’s Tokyo Branch, was touted as charging out of Asia onto the world stage. Unfortunately, it had no works, no reputation—nothing but money.

In most places, money was a good thing, but in cultural arts, having money without taste only earned mockery as nouveau riche.

“I haven’t asked her yet,” Jin Yizhu said. “I hope she’ll agree.”

“She’d refuse? She’s already been your canary in Tokyo.”

Mary tsked twice, looking eager for chaos.

“Hey, though artists aren’t rich, someone as famous as her wouldn’t need you to keep her, right?”

Jin Yizhu: “…”

How do you know she doesn’t spend my money?

“To be frank, our Eldest Miss doesn’t have the best temper,” Mary said with a grin. “Could it be that Miss Wei fell for your pretty face?”

“She’s very pretty herself,” Jin Yizhu said. “If she likes beautiful women, she can look in the mirror.”

“…Wow.”

Mary let out an emotionless “wow,” not knowing what to say. Fortunately, Jin Yizhu’s apartment had arrived. She parked the car and said helplessly,

“Get out.”

“Weird, why do I feel like you’re chasing me away?”

Jin Yizhu picked up her bag, still talking to Mary, but her thoughts had already flown upstairs.

“Go pick a car you like; you can drive it normally too.”

Mary acknowledged it, waved at her, and the SUV sped off, leaving only a whiff of gasoline.

Jin Yizhu went upstairs. The apartment was very quiet. Ah Hao was not there, and Wei Shuyu seemed absent too—no one on the sofa, and the guest room door was open with no one inside.

Was she still out shopping? The wind at Victoria Harbour was so strong; Jin Yizhu worried she would catch another cold.

Jin Yizhu pulled out her phone from her bag. As soon as she dialed, a ringtone sounded in the house.

She couldn’t have left her phone behind… She had just been sending her videos earlier. Full of doubts, Jin Yizhu followed the sound.

The source was her own bedroom.

Jin Yizhu placed her hand on the doorknob, a bit uncertain. Was Wei Shuyu in her room?

As she hesitated, the door lock clicked softly, and the bedroom door opened.

Perhaps finding the light too bright, Wei Shuyu narrowed her eyes slightly and appeared at the door.

After who knew how long she had slept, her hair was a bit messy. A few strands stuck up, others fell beside her face. Even one strap of her nightgown had slipped halfway down, revealing half of her fair, smooth shoulder.

“Jin Yizhu…?”

She lifted her face, her voice still carrying sleepiness—muddled, soft, and lingering, making one want to tease her.

“You’re finally back.”

From the moment she discovered no one in the living room, the anxiety Jin Yizhu had desperately suppressed erupted. She pressed Wei Shuyu’s shoulders, pulled her into her embrace, took a deep breath, and only when the fresh morning-dew-like fragrance filled her mind did her heartbeat gradually calm.

“Hm?”

Her skin touched the cold fabric of the suit, and Wei Shuyu instantly woke up.

“Jin Yizhu?”

She heard Jin Yizhu’s heartbeat, one beat faster than the last, like a storm enveloping her entirely.

Wei Shuyu tentatively reached out, slipped her hand under the jacket, hugged her waist, traced up her spine, gently stroked her back, until the heartbeat by her ear slowly returned to normal.

“…Looks like I don’t need to apologize for sleeping in your bed anymore.”

A moment later, Wei Shuyu released her and looked at her with a half-smile.

She stood in the bedroom’s shadows, her smile even ambiguous. She tiptoed lightly, leaned close to Jin Yizhu’s ear, and asked slowly,

“How afraid are you that I’d sneak away?”

“Very, very, very afraid,” A flicker of fear flashed in Jin Yizhu’s eyes, but only for an instant before she recovered. “Why sleep in my bed?”

Wei Shuyu keenly caught that hint of abnormality—the fear buried so deep could not possibly come from someone she had known for just two years.

Was there someone in Jin Yizhu’s growing-up years who had left without a word, leaving such a deep shadow?

She did not ask, only drew closer to Jin Yizhu and smiled. “Well… your bed is easier to sleep in.”

“Isn’t the guest room bed comfortable enough?” Jin Yizhu asked puzzledly. “Should I have someone replace it tomorrow?”

Wei Shuyu blinked and stared at her wordlessly. “No need for that.”

The bed has your scent; you hugged me on this bed—everything’s fine. Yet Jin Yizhu skipped all possibilities and went straight to whether the bed was uncomfortable.

Truly astounding.

“Won’t you sleep poorly?” Jin Yizhu asked worriedly.

“Can’t I sleep with you?” Wei Shuyu lowered her lashes, creating a look of grievance. “You’re chasing me out right after I recover. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have gotten better…”

“Hey, wait, no—I’m not chasing you out. How do you say whatever you want? You can’t wish to stay sick just because you want to.”

Jin Yizhu panicked at once, not knowing what to do. With Wei Shuyu in the shadows, she could not even tell if she was about to cry; she only felt her voice brimmed with water, grievance on the verge of spilling over.

“Sleep with me, okay? I didn’t say you couldn’t sleep with me.”

“Then before I go back, I’ll sleep with you every night.”

Wei Shuyu pushed her luck and grabbed her sleeve.

“I’m afraid of the dark.”