The air in the hotel room was completely still.
No one spoke, as if everyone had been paused, unable to comprehend what Wei Shuyu had said, staring at her in shock.
Zhao Rou’s brows furrowed tightly, the corner of her mouth twitching as if she wanted to speak but held herself back.
Her gaze swept back and forth between Wei Shuyu and the relatives, her face flushing red then paling white, like she’d been slapped but stubbornly refused to move. Wei Qingguo’s face had lost all expression, replaced by a cold, hard silence, his lips pressed thin, his eyes fixed straight on the floor, as if not looking up meant he didn’t have to face reality.
The guest room’s lights were a bit bright, illuminating everyone’s faces with exceptional clarity. The air hung heavy, utterly motionless, even the whir from the air conditioner vent sounding out of place.
The water glasses on the table still steamed, untouched, as if forgotten. Everyone was sunk in the echo of that one sentence, like a paused painting.
“Sis…”
Wei Qinglu had never expected her to say something like that, her face full of shock, unable to hide it.
There were too many people in the room, and she didn’t want to stay on the sofa under everyone’s stares, so she quietly slipped down and grabbed Wei Shuyu’s sleeve.
“Isn’t what you’re saying a bit too much?”
No matter what, being kept by a woman wasn’t anything glorious.
No matter what, Wei Shuyu truly liked Jin Yizhu—no one else would believe it; they’d only think she was in it for the money.
Why did she have to say it so bluntly?
“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Wei Shuyu’s voice was very cold. “It’s exactly what they want.”
“What?” Wei Qinglu couldn’t believe what she’d heard and asked in a daze.
Soon, she understood why Wei Shuyu had said it.
When Wei Shuyu announced she was being kept by a woman, Wei Qingguo’s expression grew complicated, but upon closer look from Wei Qinglu, it wasn’t anger…
Zhao Rou was the same—her expression shifted several times, her eyes flashing with all sorts of meanings, but no anger.
“Being kept isn’t great, but people should still rely on themselves to shine.”
Zhao Rou and Wei Qingguo exchanged a glance, and in the end, it was she, the mother, who spoke.
She took two quick steps forward, grabbed Wei Shuyu’s sleeve—unwilling or not, she pulled her daughter to sit on the sofa, draped an arm around her shoulders, and asked:
“The woman you’re talking about—is she the one you met in Hong Kong last time?”
“You even know about that.”
Wei Shuyu raised her eyes and glanced at Wei Qinglu.
Under her sister’s gaze, Wei Qinglu lowered her head. She felt uneasy; sometimes, to keep the peace at home, she’d mention things about Wei Shuyu.
She knew it wasn’t right, but their constant nagging really wore her down.
But Wei Shuyu merely gave her a light, indifferent glance—no hint of blame, as if it didn’t matter whether she spoke or not, her eyes so faint they seemed ready to vanish.
“Yeah, it’s the one I met in Hong Kong before, but don’t overthink it. It’s not that kind of relationship with her.”
“How could it not be that kind of relationship!”
Earlier, when they’d learned she was a lesbian, Zhao Rou had opposed it the most vehemently, but now she’d changed her tune.
“She’s willing to keep you, spending so much money—if not because she likes you, then what?”
Wei Shuyu gave a smile that wasn’t quite a smile. “She’s rich. What’s wrong with her playing around with me?”
As she said those words, Wei Shuyu’s soul seemed to split in two.
One half felt guilty, silently apologizing to Jin Yizhu: I know you’re not that kind of person. Even if there’s no love between us, there’s friendship. Emotions aren’t that simple—no matter what form they take, even if blurred, mixed with liking and an unwillingness to admit it’s friendship, it’s still worth being grateful for.
As long as it’s love, it’s precious, no matter what kind, no matter how it’s expressed—as long as it’s love, it’s precious.
She felt sorry toward Jin Yizhu.
In this setting, dragging her out to confront her parents— just mentioning her felt like an insult to her.
Wei Shuyu bit her lip, lowered her head, not wanting others to see her expression.
Even less did she want others to see the other half of her soul, the one that felt a vicious satisfaction.
Weren’t you trying to sell me off? Now I’ve sold myself for a good price, but not to the person you wanted. Are you happy?
She wanted to ask, but that half’s guilt weighed her down, keeping her silent.
Wei Qinglu watched her sister, saw Wei Shuyu sitting between her mom and dad—a scene that should have been warm, yet looked so lonely.
Wei Shuyu kept her head down, even her back hunched, as if bearing a thousand pounds.
“Sis…”
She couldn’t stand the atmosphere and spoke up heedlessly, tears nearly welling in her eyes.
“Don’t say it like that.”
Wei Qinglu thought: Though I haven’t met her, I don’t think Yizhu sis wants to just play around with you.
If she just wanted to play around, why let me, your cousin, live at your place? She could have just put me up in a hotel. If she wasn’t considering your feelings, why do that?
Wei Shuyu glanced at her but said nothing.
Zhao Rou couldn’t take it first. “Exactly, don’t say it like that. Can’t she genuinely like you?”
“Tell Dad—how much does she give you a month for keeping you?”
Wei Qingguo swept away his earlier disdain, put on a smiling face, took his daughter’s hand, and asked:
“It’s not less than what you made before, right? You’ve been in Tokyo so long; you must have earned something.”
His words were too blunt, but Wei Shuyu was used to hearing them and showed no reaction.
Wei Qinglu, on the other hand, had never heard such things before. She froze in place, wanting to say something but not knowing what, her lips opening and closing until nothing came out.
Wei Qinglu’s eyes widened, her lips slightly parted, her whole face frozen, even forgetting to blink.
Her parents didn’t know what expression to make for a moment either. Glancing at their brother’s family, they felt a bit resentful—handle your own affairs; why scare our Lulu?
Zhao Rou’s mouth twitched twice, wanting to laugh but unable to, so she lowered her head to avoid eye contact. Wei Qingguo swallowed, his gaze toward her a bit evasive, the smile on his face stiffening unnaturally.
No one picked up the conversation. The room fell into a frightening silence, only the low hum of the air conditioner and the distant tick of a clock. Everyone stood awkwardly, unsure whether to move or sit, breathing carefully so as not to break the weird balance.
“Qingguo, don’t say any more,” Wei Qingye saw Wei Qinglu’s expression and knew his daughter couldn’t take it. “Lulu’s still young; don’t talk about all this nonsense—you’ll scare her.”
“What’s there to be scared of?” Wei Qingguo disagreed. “Lulu’s not that young anymore. She can’t just keep playing around forever.”
Wei Qinglu could no longer hide her expression, revealing full shock.
What did he mean she wasn’t young anymore and couldn’t keep playing? What was she playing at? All along, she’d studied hard, gone to school properly, planning to find a job after graduation and support herself—and in their eyes, that was playing?
Then what didn’t count as playing?
By their logic, doing what they wanted, living the life they envisioned—that was the proper path?
Why?
Wei Shuyu sighed inwardly, drew her hand from Zhao Rou’s grasp, walked to Wei Qinglu’s side, patted her back, and comforted her in a low voice: “It’s okay. With me going first, you’ll never end up like this.”
Wei Qinglu stared at her in a daze. The whole day, she’d been a bit out of it.
Only now, as Wei Shuyu placed her hand on her back and voiced her deepest fear, did Wei Qinglu realize what her sister had been doing all along.
Walking forward alone in endless, incomprehensible loneliness.
Even surrounded by blame, even if everyone told her it was wrong, even if the parents meant to protect her saw her as a bargaining chip—she’d never given up on herself.
“Sis…”
Wei Qinglu couldn’t hold back anymore; tears spilled from her eyes.
She clutched Wei Shuyu’s clothes and buried her face in her sister’s chest, sobbing loudly.
“How can they do this? How can they…”
She didn’t name names, and the culprits in the room couldn’t understand what she meant.
They just stood there stubbornly, enforcing what they saw as righteous justice, demanding the sisters sacrifice their lives and futures.
Wei Shuyu gently patted her little sister’s back, her cold gaze sweeping over her parents and relatives. “Had enough yet?”
“You child, what do you mean ‘enough’? Mom and Dad are doing this for your own good,” Zhao Rou was quite perceptive. “If you and Lulu don’t want to go home, play around outside for a few days—no problem.”
Wei Qingguo chimed in: “Once you’ve had your fun, come back to see Grandpa and Grandma, and we’ll be at ease.”
Wei Qingye nodded: “Exactly. No matter how much fun you have outside, you still need to come home and visit.”
In an instant, the adults were all mild and affectionate again, as if those earlier words hadn’t come from them.
Or rather, they didn’t think there was anything wrong with those words at all—just concern for the younger generation.
Wei Qinglu gripped her sister’s arm, her face full of unease.
She didn’t know how to describe the scene; she just felt everything was bizarre.
Wei Shuyu’s arm hurt from her grip. She looked down; red marks faintly appeared on her skin. Heaven knew how shocked Wei Qinglu was.
“Wei Qinglu,” Wei Shuyu’s fingertips touched her hand, her brows slightly furrowed, her voice softening almost out of tune. “It hurts.”
Wei Qinglu snapped to realization, let go, and immediately noticed the finger marks on her sister’s arm.
She gasped, about to apologize, but Wei Shuyu shook her head slightly, signaling her not to bother.
“I have things to do now. When I’m free, I’ll go back to see Grandpa, Grandma, and your maternal grandparents,” she treated the elders impartially, flashing a mild fake smile and issuing an eviction notice to her parents. “Don’t be so anxious all the time.”
Wei Shuyu was calm and composed, her eyes barely rippling, leaving Wei Qingguo and Zhao Rou speechless.
“Shuyu, you’re not young anymore…”
Zhao Rou hesitated for a long time before speaking.
“You still need a proper place to settle down. Is that woman reliable?”
“If not, you still need to find someone to marry, right?”
Wei Qingguo followed up, glancing at Zhao Rou to signal her to continue.
Catching her husband’s cue, Zhao Rou sighed and said:
“Look around—who by your side isn’t married? You and Pei Qian were so close before; she got married and you didn’t even go. Now she’s had a kid, carrying it around the yard every day—we get envious just watching!”
“Do you have to bring all this up?”
Hearing Pei Qian’s name, Wei Shuyu’s expression chilled further. Her hand rested on the phone as she asked:
“You don’t even know what our relationship was—do you have to say these things?”
“Weren’t you good friends?”
Zhao Rou asked knowingly, scrutinizing her daughter’s face. Watching Wei Shuyu’s icy, stunned expression, a perverse sense of satisfaction spread through her.
“You played together every day, even moved out to live with others, abandoning Mom and Dad. Now you won’t even show your face?”
“Get out.”
Wei Shuyu had no patience for more talk. Her hand pressed the front desk call button.
“If you don’t leave, I’ll call security.”
“Such a bad temper every day—who could put up with you? And yet someone spends money to keep you,” Wei Qingguo shook his head, pulled Zhao Rou along, and headed out with the nephews. “Wei Shuyu, your old man raised you this far—you’ve got to have a conscience!”
Wei Shuyu stood, slammed the door shut with a bang, and swiftly chained it.
Wei Qinglu watched her actions and asked blankly: “Sis… Pei Qian…”
She had a vague inkling but didn’t dare confirm.
Wei Qinglu had never heard the name before, but felt this person was tied to when Wei Shuyu had flipped the table at the New Year’s dinner.
But why did aunt and the others call her just a friend, say she’d married and had a kid now, and that sis should follow suit?
“My ex-girlfriend.”
Wei Shuyu said curtly, then flopped onto the bed with a thud, pulled the covers over her head.
“Can you not ask?”
She had lived until now, yet her life was nothing but a massive joke. She had done everything she was supposed to do, but who had ever cared whether she lived or died?
In the man-made darkness, Wei Shuyu felt her eyes grow a little sore.
She reached out a hand and, with a click, turned off the bedside lamp. In a muffled voice, she asked, “I want to sleep for a bit. Why don’t you go sit in the coffee shop? There are coupons on the desk.”
Wei Qinglu silently glanced toward the desk. Even at a time like this, when her voice carried a suppressed sob, Wei Shuyu still made arrangements for her, ensuring she had somewhere to go.
Was it this very gentleness that made her suffer so much?
“. . . Alright.”
Wei Qinglu stood up and clutched the coupon on the desk. Her voice was hoarse as she said,
“I’ll go sit for a while. Shall we have dinner together tonight?”
‘If it weren’t me here, but Sister Yizhu instead, things would probably be better.’
Wei Qinglu gazed at the white bed. The sister she admired most was hidden beneath the covers, like someone buried under layers of white snow, concealing all her vulnerability.
And she was not qualified to uncover any of it.
Wei Shuyu did not answer her, and Wei Qinglu did not press the question. She simply withdrew from the room in silence.
She wondered, when would she truly grow up? When could she become stronger, stand on her own in this world without relying on anyone else’s power? When could she protect the people she wanted to protect?
‘I don’t want to be the little sister. I don’t want to be patted on the back and comforted by my big sister.’
‘I want to become a heaven-spanning great tree.’
As Wei Qinglu thought this, she also wondered if her sister had once felt the same way back then.
Had someone stood in front of her at that time and comforted her, telling her it was alright?
