Chapter 34

Ding Ya asked very frankly. When her eyes looked at someone, they always created a sense of guilt, as if not agreeing would be a sin.

Shu Chi pursed her lips, about to speak, when Ding Ya’s phone rang.

Ding Ya glanced at the caller ID, then stole a look at Shu Chi, only to find the other woman had already looked away and turned to retrieve her own toiletry bag.

Was she made of wood?

Shen Mu’s voice came through loudly and carelessly, brimming with the contentment of having finished a hot spring soak. She asked Ding Ya, “Are you done yet? I’m waiting for you here, you know.”

Ding Ya smiled and asked, “Just got to my room. You’ve already enjoyed everything?”

Shen Mu gave an affirmative hum. The room she had won in the lucky draw was a standard one, but even the standard rooms at the Hot Spring Manor were superior to typical hotels. She was already very satisfied.

“Come out and have a drink with me? The grilled meat here is also really famous. What’s the point of playing games with your colleagues so late, anyway?”

This freelancer had always detested working.

Back when everyone was preparing for interviews and going their separate ways, Shen Mu, having no stubborn interest in academics, had fearlessly leveraged the fans she’d accumulated over four years of university to become a self-media content creator. While her three other roommates went to work as if attending funerals, she maintained a happy heart because she was always doing what made her happy.

Ding Ya was adept at handling people. She hummed in agreement, “Yeah, the food is good. I’ve already forgotten what it tasted like, though.”

Her tone was joking, light and soft. Shu Chi, having just entered and been invited to bathe together, only now noticed that this double room wasn’t a twin room.

It was a suite, indeed—with a study and everything. It seemed like a suite, yet it seemed like a suite in name only.

Shen Mu: “Then I’ll wait for you here. So many handsome guys, Ding Ya!! Hurry up.”

Shu Chi walked over just in time to hear this sentence. Ding Ya had the volume on quite loud, and coupled with Shen Mu’s particularly suggestive tone, Shu Chi frowned.

Ding Ya mouthed silently: “What is it?”

Shu Chi said sullenly, “There’s only one bed.”

Ding Ya laughed. “That’s not a problem.”

On the other end, Shen Mu only heard faint voices. She yelled, asking, “Your team building has two people per room, right? Are you with your Qixin colleague?”

Ding Ya opened her small suitcase while saying, “No, she brought her boyfriend. Ugh, I can’t talk to you now. Wait for me, ten minutes.”

Ding Ya hung up the phone directly.

Shu Chi picked up a small pouch that had fallen out of Ding Ya’s suitcase and set it aside.

They were leaving tomorrow afternoon. Ding Ya had brought several sets of clothes. Compared to Shu Chi’s simple backpack, Ding Ya looked like she was here for a travel photoshoot.

But Shu Chi wasn’t surprised. After all, Jing Yuqi had the same tendency. Even back when they ran a street stall, her stuff was always more than everyone else’s. Whenever the city management came, it was always hard to run. If Shu Chi hadn’t been able to carry so much, the losses might have been severe.

“Can we get an extra bed?”

Ding Ya hung her clothes on the hanger and asked.

Shu Chi shook her head.

Ding Ya: “Then we’ll just sleep together. After all, the bed is so big.”

She crouched on the floor, patting the hand of Shu Chi, who was sitting on the edge of the bed. “Is Boss Shu afraid I’ll eat you up?”

Shu Chi wasn’t afraid. She just had never imagined that even after becoming a boss, she’d still have to share a bed with someone.

Back when she was a factory girl, she had slept in bunk beds and large communal bunks. She could endure any kind of conditions.

But being with Ding Ya—this person who seemed like a colleague yet not quite a colleague—made Shu Chi uncomfortable in every possible way.

Ding Ya realized that Shu Chi’s silence was mostly just her not knowing what to say.

Kinda cute.

Ding Ya stood up and placed her hands on Shu Chi’s shoulders. “The bed is huge, don’t worry.”

She glanced around the suite. “But Boss Shu, please don’t pull something like sleeping on the sofa. That would make things really awkward for me.”

She said it very bluntly, extinguishing Shu Chi’s last sliver of hope. Then she picked up her phone and said to Shu Chi, “Looks like we can’t bathe in the hot spring together. I’ll go have a drink with my friend first.”

Shu Chi looked up. “Is it that person from last time?”

Ding Ya let out a ‘hey’, but her brows and eyes curved like crescent moons. “Do you think I have no friends?”

Shu Chi waved her hand dismissively and quietly muttered, “No.”

Ding Ya explained, “She won a spot in the lucky draw. Came alone. I’m going to chat with her for a bit, although she doesn’t seem like the type who needs someone specifically to keep her company.”

Shu Chi: “Going to look at handsome guys?”

She asked very seriously, somewhat like a pet whose owner was going out to have fun, leaving it at home—eyes clear, yet seeming to know its owner’s nature well.

Ding Ya burst out laughing and didn’t deny it. “Yeah, there’s a bar here too, after all. Looking at handsome guys is pretty normal, right?”

Shu Chi asked again, “Then will you come back?”

As soon as she asked, she felt the question was a bit off—it sounded too pathetic.

But Ding Ya seemed to misunderstand her meaning. She reached out and hit her unceremoniously. “If I don’t come back, does that mean you get the big bed and hot spring all to yourself?”

Ding Ya’s tone carried a hint of feigned anger.

But Shu Chi hadn’t expected this sudden move. Unable to keep her balance, she fell right onto the bed.

Ding Ya’s hand was instinctively grabbed by her, so Ding Ya fell down too.

The suite’s bed was very soft. As Ding Ya tumbled onto Shu Chi, she seemed to feel the mattress’s elasticity as well. The other woman’s scent wafted into her nostrils, stirring up all of Ding Ya’s restless desires. Before she could even do anything, the person beneath her hastily pushed her away, like a child who had done something wrong, and said, “I didn’t.”

Shu Chi wasn’t fair-skinned to begin with. The suite’s lighting was carefully designed; the bedroom ceiling had an inverted flower-bud chandelier, its light cascading down. Even her deeper skin tone seemed coated in an alluring color, easily reminding Ding Ya of making sorghum steamed buns with her mom at home when she was little.

She would always stamp the buns with a seal at the end.

Right now, she wanted to stamp her seal all over Shu Chi. It was a pity that the other woman hastily turned her face away, seemingly about to get up.

This is so fun.

Ding Ya couldn’t stop laughing. Not at all embarrassed by being pushed away, she simply rolled back to Shu Chi’s side and even reached out to pull the sitting-up woman back down.

Shu Chi was caught off guard. When she fell back, she was face-to-face with Ding Ya.

The baby-faced woman’s eyes were as bright as stars. Her approach wasn’t exactly subtle; as Shu Chi froze in surprise, she ruthlessly pinched her cheeks with both hands. “No means no. Still trying to ambush me, huh?”

She’s really good at turning the tables. Who ambushed whom?

Shu Chi hesitated, wanting to speak, not knowing how to break the ambiguous intimacy of this stare.

But the next second, Ding Ya got up decisively, reached for her coat nearby, turned to Shu Chi, and said, “Alright, I’m off then.”

She left just as decisively, her skirt fluttering. The door clicked shut. Shu Chi still lay on the bed. She closed her eyes, then opened them again.

When Ding Ya left, she had even considerately turned off the room lights. She probably didn’t realize she’d pressed the switch right in the middle seam, accidentally turning on the starry sky light instead.

The door had taken away the person who stirred the waves in Shu Chi’s heart. The room flickered with artificial stars, perfectly matching Shu Chi’s fluctuating thoughts.

Shu Chi suddenly recalled something Jing Yuqi had said before.

She muttered to herself, “How is that possible?”

No matter how you look at it, I’m the one with the problem.

It’s completely problematic. Ding Ya clearly likes men; she’s just less guarded around women.

She seems affectionate with everyone and very caring towards the interns too.

Maybe she’s just naturally friendly.

And her being so casual with me is also because we’re familiar now. After all, she and I share that online dating history.

My online dating partner had no feelings for me whatsoever; her online dating partner seems to still have lingering feelings for her.

Shu Chi had felt a subtle displeasure about this more than once. Maybe it was jealousy of this shared experience with different outcomes. But reason told her that Ding Ya’s online husband wasn’t a good person either.

A married man, still trying to flirt around.

Having deceived so excessively back then, he still had the nerve to come back seeking her out.

Taking advantage of Ding Ya’s youth, recklessly sowing seeds in her heart.

After all these years, Ding Ya still hadn’t dated and couldn’t shake off that person’s shadow.

Shu Chi took a deep breath, urging herself to stop thinking.

After all, it’s none of my business.

She had been rational all these years, never making mistakes at work. The career she had built step by step was proof of her single-minded focus.

Jing Yuqi was different from her. In matters of the heart, Jing Yuqi was far ahead, yet she still had things that couldn’t be joked about even in playful settings.

Their expressions of rationality were different too.

No matter how passionate Jing Yuqi got, no matter how much she talked about love, her heart remained cold.

Shu Chi had rejected several people. Having regrets was true, and fearing relationships was also true.

She had already experienced an uncontrollable longing once. Even though time had cooled that feeling, she was still afraid of it happening again.

To be utterly devoted, unafraid of consequences—someone like her wasn’t allowed that.

It wasn’t just the low cost of trial and error in entrepreneurship; relationships were the same.

Easy to lose completely, easy to give wholeheartedly.

Ending up battered and bruised, without a good ending.

Shen Mu was waiting for Ding Ya at the bar inside the manor.

Ding Ya found her and sat down. The first thing she said to Shen Mu was, “Shall we have a limited-time romance tonight?”

In four years of university, Ding Ya had only dated once. Shen Mu had had a boyfriend, though. The reason she and Ding Ya got along so well was also because they both found relationships troublesome.

Shen Mu ordered a drink for Ding Ya and looked at her own manicured nails with worry. “All the beautiful people already have partners, look.”

Scanning the dance floor, there were indeed some with high face value, but the good-looking ones, regardless of gender, were all in pairs.

However, the person singing on stage was a beautiful woman—dressed in a gender-neutral style, with a slightly down-and-out vibe. Her long, narrow eyes held a hint of arrogance, as if looking down on everything.

Ding Ya rested her chin on her hand and admired for a few minutes, finding it quite appealing.

Shen Mu followed her gaze and realized the person Ding Ya had been watching for so long was the female resident singer.

She wasn’t surprised. She sighed, “Ah,” and said, “I should have known. How could you be looking at men?”

In the past, Shen Mu had still held a sliver of hope that Ding Ya liked men. Now, looking back, she realized that whenever the campus heartthrobs were being cheered on, Ding Ya always joined in with a perfectly cooperative expression.

What the hell? Was she part of the hype squad?

Is there a part-time job for that?

Ding Ya nodded. “This one is not bad. What do you think?”

She had touched up her powder on the way over. Because her skin was so good, her base makeup was very sheer and light. She never went for the bold red lip, a little lily among a group of glamorous women.

Shen Mu, though also somewhat baby-faced, at least looked a bit fierce when she wasn’t talking.

Ding Ya was all sweet aesthetics, but cross-section her and she’s savory inside.

Shen Mu was very alert. “What do you need my opinion for?”

The next second, she narrowed her eyes and asked suspiciously, “Do you like this type?”

She recalled Shu Chi’s style and found it was indeed somewhat similar. But Shu Chi more easily radiated a gangster-like vibe, truly the type that made people wary.

Ding Ya smiled but didn’t answer, instead asking, “Did you encounter any handsome guys in the hot spring?”

Shen Mu: “Sis, I was in the women’s bath. A man in the women’s bath is a pervert, okay!”

Ding Ya laughed out loud. Her posture was exceptionally relaxed. The lighting here was dim, but it didn’t stop her eyes from crinkling when she smiled. The shimmering blush on her cheeks added a touch of cleverness under the ambient light. She teased her friend bluntly, “Feels like your last relationship was back in junior year. Not dating at all? No worldly desires?”

Shen Mu scoffed and very bluntly mocked her right back. “As if you’ve been dating anyone. Have you managed to chase after the Second Boss yet?”

Ding Ya’s fingers tapped the tabletop to the rhythm of the live music. Thinking of the sensation of accidentally sprawling onto Shu Chi earlier, she spoke with a hint of delight, “Didn’t I tell you? I’m sleeping with her tonight.”

The resident singer had been performing fast-paced songs. She finally switched to a golden oldie from a Hong Kong/Taiwan singer. Ding Ya found it quite pleasant and even hummed along a few lines.

Shen Mu nearly choked to death on her drink. She sputtered, “Uh,” and suddenly grabbed Ding Ya’s shoulder. “No way! Sister Ya! You move that fast?!”

Ding Ya lifted her chin, the smile in her eyes completely unconcealable, even carrying a hint of the smugness of someone about to pluck the fruit. “Of course not. Company team building. I just happened to be assigned to the same room as her.”

She heavily emphasized the word ‘happened,’ and added extra stress, “It’s a room with one big bed.”

She delivered the line with a drama-idol tone, coquettish and completely natural. Shen Mu, however, found it terrifying.

What a waste of that face. If paired with a sultry, mature face and figure, she’d absolutely be a ruthless, master-level heartbreaker, wouldn’t she?

Shen Mu sighed, thinking of Shu Chi’s usual simpleton demeanor. She was already mentally lighting incense for her soul. “Suddenly, I feel so sorry for the Second Boss.”

Ding Ya hummed in agreement. “But she will get me.”

Shen Mu was shocked by this person’s shamelessness. “You’re not planning to do that… something here, are you?”

Her feelings suddenly became complicated. The cabbage-and-pig theory suddenly came online. But Ding Ya only had the appearance of a cabbage; inside, she had the spirit of the pig rooting for the cabbage.

Even though Ding Ya had once been so pure in Shen Mu’s heart, at this moment Shen Mu felt Shu Chi was the divinely chosen unlucky soul.

Led around in circles completely unawares, probably still wondering if she was overthinking things.

“Forget it, let’s just have a drink.”

Shen Mu clinked glasses with her. They chatted about other things. Shen Mu asked Ding Ya, “I saw you can request songs too. I wonder how much it costs. Wanna try?”

She hesitated a bit. “It might be a bit expensive.”

Ding Ya, fully in tourist mode, adhering to the ‘since we’re already here’ philosophy, asked the bartender—

“Can I request a song?”

The price was what Shen Mu considered expensive, but not unaffordable.

She glanced at the resident singer on stage. Even knowing that Ding Ya’s player persona was just exaggerated, she couldn’t help but let her imagination run wild again.

Ding Ya really seemed to like slightly androgynous older sisters. Could this singer be her type too?

Though, looks-wise, she’s indeed better than the Second Boss. After all, fair skin is still the current aesthetic standard. Shu Chi gave off a sense of the earth’s solidity; Shen Mu found it hard to imagine her during intimate moments.

Alright, that’s impolite of me to think.

But seeing Ding Ya so smug, Shen Mu also felt there was a high probability she’d fail spectacularly.

Beside her, Ding Ya very decisively scanned the code and paid. Under Shen Mu’s gaze, she said blandly, “Just treat it as spending on an in-game gacha pull. Getting an extra festive touch for New Year’s, why not?”

Shen Mu: A whale. That could buy several sets of limited-edition skins.

When the resident singer was told what song was to be sung, she was a little surprised. She looked at Ding Ya from afar, across the crowd.

Finally, she smiled. Her hands played a perfect melody on the guitar. In a prelude that many found familiar, her clear, bright voice carried a hint of laughter—

“A guest has requested an old song. Mm, very nostalgic, it reminds me of my student days.”

There were also a few people from the team building at the bar. Just as Shu Chi was preparing to go take a bath, she checked WeChat Moments one last time.

She saw a post from Zhang Xi —

@Zhang Daxixi: Laughing like crazy, folks, someone requested 123 Wooden Man.