Chapter 34

Lu Chenyu had always found kissing Wen Feixi’s lips to be an incredibly pleasurable experience. It had taken every ounce of her willpower to force herself to pull away.

But Wen Feixi held the back of her head, refusing to let her retreat.

Lu Chenyu struggled a little, managing to draw back just an inch before being pressed forward again, her lips meeting that warm, soft expanse once more.

Her eyelashes fluttered, and she stopped resisting. It was like a parched person instinctively reaching for water—her tongue tip emerged, tentatively licking, little by little.

Wen Feixi’s waist went limp, her breathing growing heavier without her realizing it. She felt unsteady on her feet and could only lean against the wall behind her.

She opened her eyes, her gaze hazy as she looked at the girl before her.

Her heart pounded wildly, as if this were all a dream.

Lu Chenyu went still again, seemingly sensing something, and tried to pull away.

Wen Feixi slowly raised her hand, her cool fingertips gently tracing the shell of Lu Chenyu’s ear. She looked into her eyes, her voice tinged with dryness. “Lu Chenyu, you tease me and now you want to run?”

Lu Chenyu froze in place.

Wen Feixi was no expert at this either.

She licked, then pecked lightly. With eyes shimmering like rippling water, she grasped Lu Chenyu’s restless hand and sucked away the moisture at the corner of her lips.

Lu Chenyu’s ears burned uncomfortably, her legs turning to jelly. A strange sensation suddenly flooded her heart.

But she had never felt anything like it before.

She didn’t dislike it. On the contrary, she wanted Wen Feixi to continue—like a heart adrift for so long had finally found its anchor.

It was a long while before Lu Chenyu dazedly pulled away from her.

Wen Feixi’s face was already flushed a gorgeous crimson. Cupping Lu Chenyu’s face, she couldn’t bear to let this rare opportunity slip. She leaned in and kissed her lips again. “Lulu, who am I?”

“Sister Wen,” Lu Chenyu murmured.

Wen Feixi smiled. “Good girl.”

A faint blush colored Lu Chenyu’s fair cheeks. Suddenly, she whispered, “Sister, why didn’t you reply to my letters?”

Wen Feixi froze.

–

Lu Chenyu’s home was tucked away in an old alley lined with low-rise buildings, none of which had elevators.

The alley had decent public amenities. A couple of years back, with a few company dorms nearby, they’d added a convenience station: a basketball court and tennis court fenced in with chain-link.

Up front was a small square with weathered exercise equipment—a spring-loaded double seesaw, a couple of ping-pong tables, that sort of thing.

Dim yellow streetlights cast a soft glow; the place was old but kept tidy.

Wen Feixi supported Lu Chenyu as they climbed the stairs. Lu Chenyu wobbled, nearly toppling sideways.

Wen Feixi almost got dragged down with her.

Lu Chenyu looked up at her, blinked, and tears welled up in those beautiful eyes, spilling over.

“I’m sorry. I’m really useless.”

Wen Feixi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Why do you say that?”

Tears clung to Lu Chenyu’s long lashes, dark as raven feathers. “I can’t even stand steady.”

“Who says you’re useless?” Wen Feixi’s heart melted into a puddle. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind Lu Chenyu’s ear, leaned close, and planted a kiss on her cheek. Whispering into her ear, she added, “You’re drunk, that’s all. Our Lulu is plenty capable when she’s sober.”

She stole another kiss while she could.

Once this girl sobered up, things would get awkward.

They sat down on the stairs.

Lu Chenyu hugged her knees, choking back sobs. “My kissing technique isn’t as good as yours.”

Wen Feixi: “…”

Just how drunk was this girl?

She cleared her throat twice, coaxing her. “Nonsense. I thought it was great—really comfortable. You were amazing.”

Lu Chenyu sniffled. “I can’t compare to you in anything.”

Wen Feixi spoke softly. “You’re better than me at everything.”

Wen Feixi had no idea where all this self-doubt was coming from.

It was like the moment she got drunk, every negative emotion she’d ever bottled up came pouring out.

But how could anyone resist comforting a girl like this?

Who could abandon a lost little leopard?

Wen Feixi grew even more reluctant to part from her little leopard. Unable to help herself, she coaxed with a selfish motive. “Why don’t you stay out tonight? There’s a cheap guesthouse nearby—we could crash there.”

“No way,” Lu Chenyu mumbled. “…Mom’s home.”

Lu Chenyu hadn’t been home in ages, and Ms. Song had been worried sick.

Her daughter didn’t even have a phone, so she’d called the homeroom teacher. Teacher Xu had told her not to worry—the class had just gone out for a group dinner and should be back soon.

Ms. Song sat on the sofa, staring anxiously at the TV. In another half hour, she planned to call the police.

Then, out of nowhere, she heard the sound of a key turning in the door.

Ms. Song shot to her feet and yanked the door open before anyone on the other side could.

Seeing Lu Chenyu, her heart eased in an instant. All the tension from the evening melted away.

She was just about to unleash a scolding.

But then she noticed the person standing behind Lu Chenyu.

In the dim light, Wen Feixi stood straight-backed in the hallway, backpack slung over her shoulder. Her features hovered beautifully between girl and woman, her wine-red pleated skirt swaying in the breeze, inky black hair cascading over her shoulders. Those long, narrow phoenix eyes gleamed with quiet clarity.

Ms. Song blinked, a touch uncertain. “Young Miss?”

“Good evening, Auntie Song,” Wen Feixi replied.

Deer Mom quickly caught the whiff of alcohol on Lu Chenyu.

She frowned, about to speak.

Wen Feixi smiled. “At the sports meeting, Lu Chenyu brought honor to her class. During dinner, she…”

Before she could finish, Lu Chenyu lunged forward and clapped a hand over her mouth.

Wen Feixi: “…”

The soft warmth landed in her palm, and Lu Chenyu instinctively curled her fingers.

Clinging to Wen Feixi, she looked up at Ms. Song with clear eyes. “Mom, I’m home. The booze smell is from someone else—I barely drank any.”

Wen Feixi had read Ms. Song’s expression earlier and knew what was coming. Remembering the scar she’d glimpsed on Lu Chenyu’s palm in the classroom that day, her eyes darkened slightly.

Lu Chenyu glanced at Wen Feixi.

Wen Feixi nodded, backing her up. “That’s right.”

Lu Chenyu walked steadily into the distant bathroom.

Some burst of survival instinct had kicked in. She’d been wobbling moments ago, but now she moved in a straight line.

Wen Feixi wanted to laugh and curved her lips.

Ms. Song’s lingering anger evaporated the moment she saw Wen Feixi. flustered, she glanced at Lu Chenyu’s retreating back. “Oh dear, this child—Young Miss is still standing out here, and she just runs off?”

At a time like this, slipping into the bathroom for a shower to wash off the smell was probably the smartest move.

Wen Feixi stopped Ms. Song with a smile. “It’s fine.”

Only then did Ms. Song relax.

“Auntie, Lulu only went out to dinner because of me. Please don’t blame her,” Wen Feixi said.

“How could I?” Ms. Song replied. “I’m thrilled that Lulu gets to hang out with Young Miss…”

Wen Feixi’s sudden visit had Deer Mom buzzing with excitement. She couldn’t hold back and hurriedly dug out a carton of milk for her.

Deer Mom felt a bit nervous.

This was the discounted milk Lu Chenyu usually drank from the supermarket. She worried Young Miss might turn up her nose at it.

After all, this girl radiated elegance from her hair to her toes—how could she stomach something from their humble home?

But Wen Feixi opened the carton right in front of her and sat on the sofa to drink it.

–

When Wen Feixi got home, Wen Yanxiu was still up.

He sat on the sofa scrolling through a tablet, with a young, attractive woman in business attire beside him—his secretary, Zhang Xue.

Zhang Xue stood when she saw Wen Feixi, greeting her with a smile. “Feixi.”

“You’re home late,” the man said from the sofa, looking up from his tablet. His gold-rimmed glasses magnified the slight squint of his eyes.

“Out to dinner with classmates,” Wen Feixi replied.

Wen Yanxiu frowned, his tone stern. “It’s not safe for a girl to be out so late. What if something happened?”

“I know,” Wen Feixi said.

Zhang Xue glanced at Wen Yanxiu. “President Wen, now that Feixi’s back, I’ll head out.”

He slid through the financial reports on his tablet without looking up. “Alright.”

A flicker of disappointment crossed Zhang Xue’s eyes.

She’d been by President Wen’s side for eight years, pursuing him openly and subtly for ages.

Yet despite her youth, beauty, and credentials, he showed no interest. Even after all her hints, he had no intention of bringing her into the Wen family.

It seemed his heart belonged only to his ex-wife and daughter.

And what kind of woman had been Wen Yanxiu’s first wife, mother to the current Young Miss of the Wen family?

Zhang Xue could barely recall.

She just remembered her as stunning and graceful, with the poise of a noble lady.

Her clearest memory was delivering documents to the Wen home and spotting the woman in a sundress, cradling her one-year-old daughter.

Mrs. Wen had held young Wen Feixi by the artificial lake downstairs, watching ducklings with a face full of youthful vitality. Every so often, she’d tilt her head to kiss her daughter’s chubby, doll-like cheeks.

It was hard to imagine such a flawless woman later betraying him—cheating, swindling a fortune, abandoning her daughter, and running off with another man.

The ink-crystal TV screen blared the news, while beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows lay River City’s sea of lights.

After Zhang Xue left, Wen Feixi turned to go, but a swaying figure appeared at the end of the hallway.

A young man in a black short-sleeved shirt shuffled toward them.

Wen Yanxiu glanced over and frowned. “Auntie Chen.”

Auntie Chen hurried up. “Yes, sir? What is it?”

Wen Yanxiu said, “Why isn’t Little Xuan in bed this late?”

“Sorry, sir—I didn’t see him just now,” Auntie Chen replied.

Wen Yanxiu frowned and returned to his tablet.

Wen Xuan was Wen Feixi’s half-brother, son of Wen Yanxiu’s first wife.

A birth complication had damaged his cerebellum, leaving him with mobility and cognitive impairments.

He walked with a limp, his intelligence affected. Up close, his mouth hung crooked, different from most people’s.

Wen Feixi pushed open the study door.

Wen Xuan, the one Wen Yanxiu had just shooed away, sat on a light gray cashmere rug, painting.

The room was full of artwork, the floor littered with paints and brushes.

Wen Yanxiu had half-given up on Wen Xuan—no teachers, no real guidance—but the boy was genuinely talented. He seemed to live for painting, spending his days in the study except for supervised walks downstairs with Auntie Chen.

Spotting Wen Feixi, Wen Xuan grew awkward.

“Bro, I brought you something,” she said.

She set a bag of buttered fried chestnuts on the desk.

“Thanks, sis,” he mumbled indistinctly.

He fished a painting from a stack in the corner and handed it to her. “For you, sis.”

It was an oil painting of a girl who resembled Wen Feixi—riding attire, black helmet, astride a white stallion under a vast blue sky laced with drifting clouds. She looked dashing and heroic.

“Thanks,” Wen Feixi said.

They were siblings, but barely interacted—like strangers.

Wen Yanxiu disliked her getting too close to his “useless” son.

Wen Feixi folded the painting carefully. Glancing over, she saw Wen Xuan frowning intently at his easel, lost in thought.

The canvas was only half-done: a view of the complex grounds below. But the perspective felt cramped, the colors flat.

Wen Feixi stepped closer, studying it quietly. She picked up his brush.

Under his gaze, she lightly sketched a vanishing point and guide lines in one corner, opening up the square’s depth.

Her color choices were bold—ochre and gold overwriting his palette, transforming the dull sky into a brilliant sunset glow.

Deep browns and purples for shadows.

Pinks to accent the figures.

A few deft strokes, and the painting came alive.

Auntie Chen watched, touched.

Mr. Wen didn’t care for Wen Xuan, so Wen Feixi rarely spoke to him.

But she was still good to her brother.

“Young Miss, you should head back. If sir sees you messing with this stuff, he’ll be upset,” Auntie Chen hesitated. “He’s in a foul mood today.”

“Got it,” Wen Feixi said.

Probably because she’d come home late without checking in.

Back in her room, door locked, she lay on the bed with a slight frown. Her mind replayed Lu Chenyu’s street-side question.

What letters? She hadn’t received any.

Probably drunken nonsense from the little drunkard.

Still, Wen Feixi pulled out her phone, tapped an account, and sent a message.

–

In the morning, Lu Chenyu slowly opened her eyes in bed, groggy.

The familiar room greeted her. Downstairs echoed Auntie Wang greeting Aunt Zhang, amid chatter, children’s cries.

Sudden realization hit—Lu Chenyu bolted upright, checking the clock on her desk out of habit.

Her internal clock woke her at six sharp daily, but now it was eight-thirty.

Mom wasn’t working today.

Lu Chenyu’s heart clenched. She forced herself out of bed.

Her head throbbed—clearly from last night’s overindulgence. Her throat felt raw too.

She eased the door open. Ms. Song had finished breakfast and sat on the sofa watching TV.

A plate under a dust cover waited on the table—her breakfast.

She’d forgotten to tell Ms. Song last night and come home reeking of booze. Lu Chenyu braced for a lecture.

Instead, the woman looked up with a smile, her tone mild. “Awake? Go brush your teeth—breakfast is on the table.”

Lu Chenyu spotted her monthly exam papers nearby.

Ms. Song had clearly seen them.

That explained her good mood.

Lu Chenyu’s scores were stellar this time—still second place, but Ms. Song seemed used to it.

She let out a breath, rubbing her forehead against the ache.

“How’d I get home last night?” She shook her head, asking hesitantly.

Ms. Song blinked. “Still foggy? Young Miss Wen brought you back.”

Lu Chenyu froze.

“You owe her big thanks,” Ms. Song continued. “She sat on our sofa until you finished your shower and went to your room—only left then.”

Young Miss Wen.

Wen Feixi.

Lu Chenyu furrowed her brow and headed to the bathroom.

Ms. Song was always strict, but last night—no punishment despite the alcohol. Had to be thanks to Wen Feixi.

Would someone like her really walk her home?

Doubt gnawed at Lu Chenyu.

She brushed her teeth, splashed water on her face, and looked in the mirror.

Poor sleep left the girl’s face pale. Clear droplets trailed down her chin amid tousled black hair. Her amber peach-blossom eyes narrowed slightly, misty.

For some reason, her lips looked unusually flushed.

Lu Chenyu wiped them.

Fragments flashed in her mind.

The dim stairwell—she’d leaned in, carefully licking Wen Feixi’s lips…

Thunderstruck.

She petrified.

No way.

Had to be a dream.

In the dream, she hated Wen Feixi so much she’d bitten her.

Lu Chenyu shivered, convincing herself it was just that—and Wen Feixi wasn’t stupid; how could she let it happen?

Buoyed by the good exam scores, Ms. Song was unusually agreeable.

At noon, she took Lu Chenyu to a nearby restaurant—uncharacteristically ordering her three favorite dishes.

Vacation time meant the place bustled.

Lu Chenyu ate quietly, listening to Ms. Song on the phone across from her.

It was Little Sea Trench dialect—chatting with someone, peppered with “ohs” and “mm-hmms.”

Hanging up, Ms. Song sighed.

Lu Chenyu asked in dialect, “What’s up?”

“A call from Third Aunt,” Ms. Song said. “Her daughter’s been missing all night. She and Uncle thought she’d wandered off—checked neighbors, friends, everywhere. Finally, back in their yard, they found her in the cowshed.”

Lu Chenyu paused. “The cowshed?”

Ms. Song nodded. “Door was shut when they got there. Inside, her daughter making out with some young guy. Pulled ’em apart, and both were out of it.”

Lu Chenyu: “…”

“The guy’s her old classmate—graduated a few years back, but they kept in touch. Whole village knows now; families are up in arms demanding answers. Third Aunt says since they kissed in front of folks, he has to take responsibility—or it’ll be a mess.”

Lu Chenyu: “…What’re they doing about it?”

“Still talking it over. Parents wanna meet. Everyone’s waiting to see what the families decide.”

Ms. Song paused, suddenly serious as she warned her. “So listen up, Lulu—no dating, got it?”

Lu Chenyu: …

An image flashed: the dim street, her yanking Wen Feixi’s clothes, leaning in to kiss her…