Chapter 53

“Did you really blush?”

Unbeknownst when, Jin Yizhu had already walked to the door of the dressing room, watching her with great interest:

“How do you blush so easily.”

Wei Shuyu was halfway through changing her clothes when she was caught off guard by Jin Yizhu’s voice and got startled.

“You’re not allowed to look,” she said while hurriedly changing her clothes and glancing at the door, “I’m not done yet. Don’t come in.”

“I didn’t come in. What are you afraid of?” Jin Yizhu asked curiously. “We’re both girls. It’s fine to change together, right?”

“……It’s not.”

Wei Shuyu’s words caught in her throat, and she didn’t know how to explain it.

“Anyway, you’re not allowed to come in.”

A moment later, she walked out of the dressing room and found Jin Yizhu leaning against the door with her arms crossed, waiting for her. Her expression was somewhat complicated.

“Let’s go,” Wei Shuyu said. “Shall we go for a walk first?”

“Mm,” Jin Yizhu responded. “There’s a nice hiking trail nearby. We can just wander around without finishing it. If we can’t make it back halfway, we can have them drive over to pick us up.”

Wei Shuyu nodded and walked out with Jin Yizhu, but she felt the atmosphere was a bit strange.

Jin Yizhu spoke much less. She wasn’t the type to talk a lot, but she had never been silently wordless or made things feel awkward.

When they were together, most of the time Jin Yizhu controlled the topics. She rarely took the initiative to say much herself.

Unless she sensed that Jin Yizhu wanted her to speak, she would pick up the conversation and take control.

But today was different.

Today’s Jin Yizhu wasn’t unwilling to talk or wanting to hear her talk. She clearly had something she wanted to say, but it was stuck in her heart, unspoken.

She didn’t know what she was holding back for.

Normally, when they were together, Jin Yizhu didn’t need to hold back anything.

Hadn’t she spent so much money on her precisely for this?

So why was it so hard to speak now? Wei Shuyu couldn’t figure it out.

They walked along the gravel path in the mountains, with the occasional crunch of fallen leaves underfoot.

Layers of maple forests surrounded them, in shades of deep and light colors—some red like they’d been dyed, others still tinged with green and yellow. When the wind blew, leaves rustled down, quietly landing on their shoulders and hair tips.

A shallow stream ran along the hillside, its water not loud but clear, flowing steadily down the slope like a soft whisper.

The sky was very blue without a cloud, the wind gentle, and the air carried a moist chill—not biting, but enough to clear the mind.

The mountain forest wasn’t silent; there were occasional bird calls and the sound of branches swaying in the wind, but overall it created an atmosphere that slowed one’s steps—like everything was decelerating, including time and heartbeats.

They walked silently for a stretch, and Wei Shuyu gradually grew a bit anxious.

It was strange. Weren’t they out for a walk? Shouldn’t they chat about the scenery? But Jin Yizhu kept her head down and strode forward, as if they were truly hiking and needed to reach the endpoint in time.

She had just said they could wander casually, and if they got tired halfway, the car could pick them up.

“Jin Yizhu.”

After walking for about half an hour, with the scenery changing several times around them, Wei Shuyu finally couldn’t hold back.

“You’re walking so fast. I can’t keep up.”

Her tone was soft, the end of her sentence dipping slightly, as if hiding a bit of grievance.

Jin Yizhu’s steps halted, as if she had just snapped back from her thoughts.

“Really? I was thinking about something and didn’t notice,” Jin Yizhu said. “Then let’s slow down.”

Her tone held a hint of guilt, and Wei Shuyu quickly shook her head. “It’s fine. I’m just not used to you walking so fast.”

“We usually walk together,” Wei Shuyu said seriously, looking at her. “What are you thinking about? Can you tell me?”

Her intuition told her that what Jin Yizhu was thinking about now was extremely important.

Important enough to… decide whether they would be friends or something else in the future.

“It’s a bit embarrassing to say,” Jin Yizhu said uncomfortably, turning her head away to avoid her gaze, but she extended her hand toward her. “I won’t walk so fast now.”

Wei Shuyu didn’t take her arm. Instead, she reached out and took her hand.

Their fingers slid together soundlessly, interlocking tightly with hers.

“Tell me when you’re ready, okay?”

Wei Shuyu smiled at her, her voice gentle, her eyes gentle.

“I want to know.”

Jin Yizhu stared at her in a daze and nodded unconsciously.

It felt strange… In the face of Wei Shuyu’s gentle smile, her heart secretly skipped a beat.

For Jin Yizhu, this was a rare experience.

So rare that the skipped beat felt especially intense, like chugging an ice-cold soda on a summer day—numbness tingling from her heart to her fingertips.

Her mind went blank, thoughts completely cleared.

She didn’t know what had happened, only that the scenery around her suddenly lost its luster.

The brilliant red maples, the clear stream, the azure sky—the stunning mountain vista that drew countless people for vacation and filled them with longing—all lost their color in Jin Yizhu’s eyes, becoming devoid of appeal.

Only Wei Shuyu’s smile and the hand gripping her fingertips became the most vivid presence.

She couldn’t help but care.

The curve of Wei Shuyu’s lips, the gaze she cast toward the maples, the strength of her grip on her hand, the feel of her skin, the fresh morning jasmine scent on her body…

Everything suddenly stood out so clearly.

Jin Yizhu turned her head to gaze at her.

Wei Shuyu noticed her stare and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jin Yizhu answered instinctively, but another emotion she had held back the whole way could no longer be ignored. She blurted out, “Wei Shuyu, why didn’t you let me into the dressing room earlier?”

“Why didn’t I let you in?”

Wei Shuyu repeated in confusion. Seeing her somewhat angry yet bewildered expression, she couldn’t help but laugh.

“……Because I was changing clothes, so I didn’t want you to come in.”

“But we’re both girls. It’s fine to change together.”

Jin Yizhu looked puzzled, her displeasure obvious. In her agitation, she pulled Wei Shuyu closer forcefully, until their shoulders nearly touched, walking pressed close.

“Or do you not see me as a friend?”

After saying it, Jin Yizhu felt a slight relief.

Actually, that wasn’t all she wanted to say. What she really wanted to ask was, if you don’t see me as a friend, what do you see me as? Are we just a money relationship?

Wei Shuyu didn’t answer her. Instead, she asked, “Would you change clothes with a friend?”

Jin Yizhu paused for a moment before answering, “I wouldn’t.”

She wasn’t the type to be all clingy with friends.

Back in elementary and middle school, when girls from her class went hand-in-hand to the bathroom, she couldn’t understand it. Why go together? Wasn’t waiting around a hassle?

As for sharing a fitting room with a friend—you try on one thing, she tries another, squeezing together to take photos—that was even more alien to her.

Sometimes, Jin Yizhu wondered if she just didn’t have friends. But she did have friends she got along well with, ones she could eat, drink, play, and party with until midnight. Yet things like this seemed tacitly avoided by everyone, never happening.

“I wouldn’t either,” Wei Shuyu laughed. “Besides, it’s not some litmus test for friendship.”

Jin Yizhu asked her, “Really?”

Though they were close in age, she always had the illusion that Wei Shuyu knew more about many things.

“Yeah, emotions come in all kinds,” Wei Shuyu replied. “And many things are just phase-specific. Once that phase passes, even good friends won’t do them anymore.”

Jin Yizhu nodded. Strangely, Wei Shuyu had just stated it calmly, yet she felt consoled.

The words stuck in her heart no longer seemed so hard to say.

“Then…” Jin Yizhu’s voice grew a bit smaller. “Actually, what I want to ask is, we’re not just a simple money relationship, right? Do you see me as a friend?”

If I fail, if I lose my family’s protection and don’t have this money anymore, would you still talk to me?

All along, Jin Yizhu had buried her insecurity deep inside, hoping to dispel it with a perfect facade before anything happened.

In this moment of baring her heart to Wei Shuyu, she realized she harbored a strong possessiveness toward the person before her.

She didn’t want to face the possibility of having no place in her heart, didn’t want to face the chance of losing her, didn’t want to face the fact that she might never have had her feelings…

“We’re not just a simple money relationship.”

Wei Shuyu answered. She suddenly stopped walking and cast her gaze toward the forest, not looking at Jin Yizhu.

“But I don’t see you as a friend either.”

The forest fell utterly quiet, as if even the wind had stopped. Fallen leaves drifted down slowly without a sound. The red of the maples no longer burned bright; sun-dried, they seemed on the verge of withering, revealing a cold desolation. The stream still flowed, but distantly now, like through a layer of mist—its faint sound intermittent.

The path underfoot was a bit slippery, heavy with moisture; moss spotted the tree trunks, dark as ink.

They stood at a fork in the road. The mountain path ahead curved out of sight, leaving only dense swaths of forest, shadowy and indistinct. Sunlight filtered through the leaf gaps but brought no warmth—instead, it felt like a reminder that they had reached an indefinable turning point.

The temperature seemed to drop suddenly, the silence unnatural; even each other’s breaths were audible.

Hearing Wei Shuyu say this, Jin Yizhu’s breathing nearly stopped. Her heart felt gripped by an invisible hand, kneaded into a ball, and smashed heavily to the ground.

She felt awful, like a drowning person unable to grasp a lifeline, on the verge of suffocation the next second.

“I’ve said it before—I like women.”

Wei Shuyu’s voice was faint, as if speaking of something unrelated to herself.

But her gaze returned, landing on Jin Yizhu’s face, watching her expression.

Jin Yizhu’s face froze. More than disbelief, it was unwillingness to believe, desperation written even in her eyes.

“So, I can’t see you as a friend.”

Wei Shuyu released her hand and took a step back, tearing away the facade of friendship with near-cruelty.

“Jin Yizhu, what would you think?”

Her smile was faint as she looked into Jin Yizhu’s eyes, not wanting to miss a single second.

“I like you.”