Chapter 23

Shen Zhirou didn’t pay much mind to what Ye Qi had said. As for Lu Yao’s past, she believed Lu Yao would share it in her own time, so there was no need for her to pry. Once they got home, Shen Zhirou changed into her pajamas and headed to the kitchen to start preparing dinner.

A little after six in the evening, Lu Yao returned from the company. Hearing the door open, Shen Zhirou—still wearing her apron—walked into the living room to greet her. Lately, their time together in bed had grown increasingly harmonious, and after just one day apart, Shen Zhirou had already started missing her.

“You’re back? Take a breather first. I’m prepping some squid—we’ll stir-fry it for dinner,” Shen Zhirou said with a smile.

But Lu Yao’s reaction was far less warm. She didn’t call her Jie Jie or come over to snuggle up against Shen Zhirou. Instead, she gave a faint nod and headed straight to the bedroom to change clothes.

Shen Zhirou pressed her lips together, standing frozen in place even after Lu Yao had disappeared inside. She still hadn’t quite processed it.

Why was Yaoyao being so distant today? Things had been perfectly fine between them before.

Even at dinner, Lu Yao remained aloof. Shen Zhirou longed to pull her into her arms and coax her, but the cool detachment in Lu Yao’s eyes held her back. Instead, she retreated to the kitchen to clear the dishes.

Lu Yao’s brows furrowed faintly as she irritably returned to the bedroom for a shower. Of course she’d noticed Shen Zhirou’s tentative caution earlier, but there was nothing to be done about it. She didn’t want to pour too much energy into building a relationship. Lu Yao decided they should just go back to how things used to be—even if that felt a bit challenging for her now.

The past few days with Shen Zhirou had been too indulgent, leaving her with this instinctive urge to cling whenever she saw her. The sensation was unfamiliar to Lu Yao. It wasn’t entirely new, but it had been so long that she’d nearly forgotten it.

Five years ago, when she was with Wen Jin, she’d felt exactly like this. She’d truly liked Wen Jin back then, but Wen Jin had left the country without a backward glance—and later changed all her contact information, severing ties completely.

Lu Yao hadn’t experienced this in the five years since. It was only after meeting Shen Zhirou that the desire to depend on someone resurfaced. But it left her deeply uneasy. She didn’t want her emotions dictated by anyone else ever again.

With these thoughts churning inside her, Lu Yao grew more and more frustrated. She climbed into bed early, turning her back to Shen Zhirou’s side, showing no interest in conversation.

Shen Zhirou gazed helplessly at Lu Yao’s back and let out a soft sigh. They’d shared the most intimate moments, yet she still felt an invisible wall between them. She had no idea what Lu Yao was truly thinking or why she flipped between hot and cold.

Shen Zhirou’s mind was a complete fog. She took a quick shower in the bathroom, then slipped into bed. Lu Yao wasn’t wrapping around her like usual, which left her feeling a touch downcast. Not wanting to disturb her, Shen Zhirou simply lay quietly on her own side.

It was still early, so she left the bedside lamp on her side lit and exchanged idle messages with Shen Yumian.

Lu Yao had her eyes closed, but sleep was nowhere in sight. Her side of the bed was perfectly soft, yet she’d grown so accustomed to nestling in Shen Zhirou’s arms lately that lying alone left her restless. She missed the cozy warmth of that embrace—and wanted to peek at what Shen Zhirou was doing with the light on. Reason warned her against it, though: no more clinging, or she’d never be able to pull away.

After a fierce internal debate while lying on her side, Lu Yao pretended to roll over, now facing Shen Zhirou’s direction.

Shen Zhirou looked up from her phone and studied Lu Yao for two seconds. Seeing it was just a sleepy shift in position, she returned to her chat with her sister.

With five or six years of work experience under her belt, Shen Zhirou had plenty of advice to offer on Yu Mian’s interview. She cradled her phone in both hands, fingertips dancing across the screen, a gentle smile curving her lips.

Peering through slitted eyes, Lu Yao caught Shen Zhirou smiling at her phone, clearly deep in lively conversation with someone. A flicker of unease stirred in her chest. She itched to open her eyes and demand who it was—but after all that mental fortitude to keep her distance, how could she?

Lu Yao resolved to hold out a little longer. Minutes ticked by, and she sneaked another glance. Shen Zhirou was still chatting away enthusiastically. Unable to contain herself any longer, Lu Yao fumed inwardly. What was this? She was right there in bed—did Shen Zhirou really have time for other people?

Drawing a steadying breath, Lu Yao decided to play it off as half-asleep and burrow into Shen Zhirou’s arms.

She thought for a moment, mentally rehearsing a few versions ahead of time, before pretending to be half-asleep as she snuggled into Shen Zhirou’s arms.

Seeing that Lu Yao appeared to be awake, Shen Zhirou froze in place without moving. Before long, Lu Yao settled into a comfortable spot in her embrace, just like she had the past few days.

Shen Zhirou tilted her head down slightly and found Lu Yao staring up at her with sleepy, hazy eyes.

“Jie Jie, who were you talking to? Why aren’t you asleep yet? I’m exhausted,” Lu Yao said, feigning grogginess as she asked offhandedly.

“I was just chatting with Mianmian a little. If you’re sleepy, I won’t say anything more. I’ll hold you while we sleep, okay?” Shen Zhirou asked softly.

“Mm, who’s Mianmian?” Lu Yao hummed lightly, planting a kiss on Shen Zhirou’s neck before asking.

“My little sister, Shen Yumian. Didn’t I mention her to you before?” Shen Zhirou explained gently.

Hearing that it was her sister made Lu Yao feel much more at ease, and she closed her eyes contentedly.

She wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination, but Lu Yao decided that Shen Zhirou’s embrace was still the most comfortable place to be. Her own soft, plush mattress no longer held the same allure.

With someone else now sharing her arms, Shen Zhirou’s full attention had been completely captured by Lu Yao. She simply bid her sister goodnight, switched off the bedside lamp, and drew the person in her embrace closer.

Feeling the scorching warmth against her, Shen Zhirou finally dared to believe that she and Lu Yao were truly together. She was a sensitive soul by nature, and Lu Yao was the one she loved, so even the slightest shift in Lu Yao’s emotions—like what she’d sensed today—didn’t escape her notice.

Shen Zhirou couldn’t quite understand why Yaoyao’s attitude toward her fluctuated between hot and cold. She was more affectionate in bed, but otherwise grew distant without realizing it. With a soft sigh, Shen Zhirou leaned in to kiss Lu Yao’s cheek and the tip of her ear.

The kisses felt good, but Lu Yao craved more than those featherlight touches. Keeping her eyes closed, she deftly hooked her arm around Shen Zhirou’s neck and leaned up to capture her lips.

Shen Zhirou, of course, noticed the movement from the woman in her arms. She kissed Lu Yao’s lips in return, then gave them a gentle nip—who asked Yaoyao to ignore her all day?

Lu Yao let out a soft whine, her voice glutinous with complaint. “Jie Jie, you bit me. It’s definitely going to be swollen tomorrow.”

Shen Zhirou chuckled and kissed Lu Yao’s feverish earlobe, laughing lightly. “I didn’t even use any force. How could it possibly swell?”

“It will. Mm~ Kiss it better. It really hurts.” Lu Yao melted softly into Shen Zhirou’s arms, waiting for her to coax her.

With a light, indulgent sigh, Shen Zhirou dipped her head and brushed her lips over Lu Yao’s once more—this time as soft and fleeting as a gentle breeze.

The kiss left Lu Yao blissfully content, and she savored the sensation even after Shen Zhirou pulled away.

Shen Zhirou let out a soft sigh and finally voiced the question weighing on her mind. “Yaoyao, were you in a bad mood today? You’ve seemed a little hot and cold with me.”

She knew that being together meant problems would arise eventually, but the key was communication to prevent them from growing worse. So she laid her thoughts bare.

“No, I was just tired today. And I’m not being hot and cold. Before we moved in together, I told you I didn’t want to date. What we have is for marriage. I think we should give each other plenty of space day-to-day, not like those couples who have to share every little thing. I don’t like feeling controlled by someone else.”

Lu Yao shared a portion of her inner thoughts. She truly disliked being swayed by others—it made her feel led around by the nose, devoid of security. It reminded her of college, when she’d poured all her energy and emotion into Wen Jin, only for her to abandon her without a second thought. She didn’t want to dive headfirst into a new relationship like that; the fear held her back.

Shen Zhirou flicked on her bedside lamp. Seeing Lu Yao looking rather deflated in her arms, she spoke tenderly. “Alright, Yaoyao. If you don’t want to date, then we won’t. If you prefer keeping some distance, that’s fine too. I can share everything about myself with you. As for your matters, tell me whenever you’re ready—no pressure, no guilt. This is all my choice; you don’t need to change a thing for me.”

Lu Yao’s gaze lifted to Shen Zhirou, a warm flush blooming in her chest. She nestled back into her embrace.

Seeing that she had no more to say, Shen Zhirou switched off the lamp again, held her close, and let sleep slowly reclaim her.

Since Yaoyao couldn’t take a step toward her, she herself could just take a few more steps toward Yaoyao. Lu Yao was the person she liked, and she was willing to do these things for her.

A few days later, Shen Yumian interviewed at five or six companies in a row. All of them told her to go back and wait for notification, but most never followed up. Just as she planned to keep submitting resumes and diligently continue her job search, Shen Yumian received a call from an unfamiliar number—a landline, no less.

Somewhat puzzled, Shen Yumian answered the phone. “Hello, who is this?”

“Hello, Miss Shen. I’m a staff member from Shengjin Group’s HR Department. You’ve passed the interview you participated in earlier. Now, you need to come to the company for one final assessment. It will take place at Shengjin Group’s headquarters this afternoon at 2 o’clock. Once you arrive in the company lobby, just call this number.”

The person politely explained everything.

“Okay, thank you. I’ll be there on time this afternoon,” Shen Yumian replied in a steady tone, suppressing the excitement bubbling inside her.

It wasn’t until she hung up that Shen Yumian happily pounced onto her dorm bed and rolled around on it twice before hurriedly pulling out the clothes she planned to wear that afternoon.