Chapter 37

The hot spring in the suite wasn’t huge, but it was large enough for two people to soak.

Ding Ya, who had been racking her brains to get Shu Chi to join her, found that this desire had come to her effortlessly. Although, judging by Jing Yuqi’s attitude, it wasn’t hard to see her hand nudging things along.

All the surrounding lights were off, save for the overhead lamps of the hot spring casting their glow. Ding Ya leaned against the pool’s edge and sighed, “This is the most comfortable team-building trip I’ve had since I started working.”

Shu Chi asked, “Were the previous team-buildings not good?”

The clothes provided by the resort were a bit large. Ding Ya had tied her sash loosely, and it floated out in the water as her hair fell across her shoulders. When she nodded, ripples spread across the pool’s surface.

Ding Ya wasn’t fond of these activities. Just recalling them made her frown, and her tone carried a familiar, intimate complaint. “Before, it was always just eating hot pot, or going to the countryside to play some silly games. One time it was really over the top—they made us plant trees.”

A floating tray drifted over on the water’s surface, but Ding Ya had been drinking earlier, so she nudged it towards Shu Chi. “Do you want some?”

Shu Chi shook her head.

She seemed extremely uncomfortable with the idea of being in the pool with someone else, intent on keeping her distance from Ding Ya. But the pool was only so big, leaving nowhere to escape.

Ding Ya reached out and pulled her closer. “Boss Shu, it’s not that serious, is it? You’re the one who said you’d soak with me, and now you’re trying to run.”

Now that she had removed her makeup, the young woman’s face was clean and fair. When she leaned in, it stirred a compelling urge to reach out and touch.

The resort-provided hot spring robe draped loosely over Ding Ya. It took almost no effort for Shu Chi to see her collarbone and the contours of her body suspended in the water.

Shu Chi suddenly recalled Ding Ya sitting in her car, talking about giving suggestions for the company’s lingerie. She hastily averted her eyes and asked again, “Does your hand still hurt?”

Her own hair was damp now, a few longer strands clinging to her shoulders and neck. Ding Ya looked at her tightly pursed lips and the eyes that refused to look back at her.

But even Shu Chi’s lashes were dewy, as if the steam had shattered the carefully constructed barrier, allowing Ding Ya to charge straight in, unimpeded.

Ding Ya smiled and shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, it’s fine.”

But as she said this contradictory statement, she moved to push the small tray away again. The wine on the water wobbled precariously, as if about to spill.

As Ding Ya reached out to steady it, Shu Chi caught her hand.

Shu Chi said, “Let me see.”

Ding Ya didn’t resist. Her hand captured in Shu Chi’s grip, the other woman stared at the ring of red marks on it, her brow furrowing. “Why didn’t you call the police?”

Her tone wasn’t harsh. Her fingers, slick with water, traced over Ding Ya’s still-red wrist. Her body, already submerged in the hot spring, seemed to tremble. The contact Ding Ya craved was laid bare right here, a testament to her boundless desire for the person before her.

She bit her lip and said nothing.

But Shu Chi thought she was just too hurt by her ex-boyfriend and asked, “What did he say to you? How did it get physical?”

She looked at Ding Ya, who was staring back at her, her eyes having turned red.

Shu Chi felt a flicker of panic. “Don’t cry.”

Ding Ya shook her head, suppressing the urge to just push Shu Chi down right then and there. She turned her face away, tapping a finger on the wooden tray floating on the water, and said flatly, “He probably just couldn’t accept it.”

“Maybe my attitude was too bad. I didn’t agree to be with him back then because I liked him.”

Shu Chi watched the hand before her. Ding Ya’s skin was very fair, making the red marks on her wrist starkly visible.

Like flawless porcelain marred by a foreign substance, always an eyesore to anyone admiring it.

Something one wanted to wipe clean.

Not quite understanding, Shu Chi asked seriously, “If you didn’t like him, why did you agree to date him in the first place?”

When they’d had that meal together, she had assumed Ding Ya had agreed because of feelings.

After all, the image Ding Ya had always presented to Shu Chi was that of a girl yearning for love, not one who would force herself to be with someone she felt nothing for.

Ding Ya tried to pull her hand back but realized Shu Chi wasn’t letting go. Of course, she wanted nothing more. And so they remained like that, hand in hand, in the pool.

“You know, before that, it was all online dating. I’d never had a real-life relationship and wanted to see what was different.”

Ding Ya lowered her gaze, her eyes closing for a moment. “He didn’t chase me because he liked me, either.”

Ding Ya had known this for a long time.

Her ex-boyfriend had pursued her with great fanfare at school, giving everyone the impression he was desperately in love.

Even the dorm matron was annoyed, hoping they’d just get together and spare everyone his wailing downstairs every day.

There were always those with good sources who would tell Ding Ya.

It was simply that his dorm group had a bet: if he couldn’t win her over in a month, he’d have to buy meals for the whole group for a month.

The cost was indeed a bit brutal.

Shen Mu was just as shallow about looks as Ding Ya.

The school was full of odd-looking guys. With beautiful women aplenty, the men all looked like toads lusting after swan meat.

The handsome guys were already taken, and those with passable looks could at least manage a pursuit game.

Her ex-boyfriend fell into the ‘passable looks’ category. Finding a girlfriend wasn’t hard for him. He thought Ding Ya would be easy to chase, never imagining she was such a homebody. Even when he sat beside her in class or delivered takeout to her whole dorm, Ding Ya remained unmoved.

“I didn’t want him to win, so I only agreed in the second week after the month was up.”

Ding Ya’s tone held a trace of spite, but no lingering affection.

It was adorable.

Shu Chi felt her own vocabulary had become pathetically limited.

It was as if the word ‘adorable’ had completely merged with Ding Ya. When she thought of ‘adorable,’ she thought of Ding Ya.

But the other woman asked, “Am I a little bit bad?”

Ding Ya looked up at her. With one hand, she stubbornly snatched the bottle floating nearby and poured some into a small cup, then downed it in one gulp.

Her manner was bold, but she’d really had a lot to drink that day. Combined with the heat of the hot spring, before Shu Chi could even answer, Ding Ya’s entire body had turned a shade of pink.

Shu Chi said, “Not bad.”

She’d never been in love either. If she were talking about ‘bad,’ Jing Yuqi was far worse. So bad, in fact, that Shu Chi often had to handle the aftermath. Zhang Xi privately said it was no surprise that rumors circulated about the two bosses.

Shu Chi had little desire for romance. She’d seen Jing Yuqi heartbroken, but they were just friends, with boundaries clearly drawn.

But what about her and Ding Ya?

Ding Ya looked up at her, then quickly dropped her gaze. Her face, flushed from alcohol or steam, resembled a peach on a branch, ripe and waiting to be plucked. “Really?” she asked, her voice innocent.

Shu Chi nodded. “You already broke up, and he still came to bother you. It’s his fault.”

She thought of Ding Ya’s string of beads. “He even damaged your property.”

Ding Ya hummed in agreement, a sound as faint as a mosquito’s buzz.

Shu Chi said, “You really should have called the police.”

Ding Ya sighed. “It was okay in the end. I met Little Su; she’s really nice. She yanked that guy right up.”

Her tone seemed considerably lighter. She pulled her hand free from Shu Chi’s and poured Shu Chi a cup of wine.

“This wine is pretty good—sweet and sour. But I’ve really had too much today. I’m feeling a bit dizzy.”

Ding Ya smiled and handed the cup to Shu Chi.

Shu Chi thought of the woman with the parted bangs. “That person is just a resident singer?”

Ding Ya hummed. “She sings really well, and she’s good-looking too. I requested an old song, and she knew it.”

“Even though she’s a few years younger than me, she has a very reliable vibe.”

She was just making it up. Su Dinghun looked completely unreliable, what with her ridiculous bangs and frivolous tone.

Shen Mu had said it plainly: That girl just wants to pick you up.

And she’d been spot on.

Now, Ding Ya looked at Shu Chi and thought this was the perfect moment too.

At least Shu Chi was looking at her. But prying anything out of someone so tight-lipped was always a challenge.

Shu Chi said, “She likes you?”

She drank the wine Ding Ya had handed her. It wasn’t very strong, with a plum taste, like a fruit drink to Shu Chi.

Her skin tone, contrasted with Ding Ya’s in the hot spring, was rather distinct.

It made Ding Ya appear even paler, and Shu Chi darker.

Ding Ya said, “I’m not sure, but she mentioned she has an ex-girlfriend.”

She smiled. “I never imagined a girl would be interested in me at first sight.”

Shu Chi gazed at her face. Her lips were so red. Even without the glittery makeup, she still couldn’t look away.

“You don’t find it off-putting?”

This sentence seemed difficult for Shu Chi to get out. She poured herself another drink.

The ceiling above this suite’s hot spring was made of transparent glass, revealing the night stars. Unlike the starry-sky projection lamp in the bedroom, this was real.

So real it made one want to lean against the other person in the pool.

Ding Ya shook her head. “What’s there to be put off by? Being liked by someone is a very happy thing.”

She patted her own face, as if to sober up a bit. “And Little Su not only sings well, she also restrung my beads for me.”

Thinking of this, Ding Ya laughed again. “Remember? Earlier, I even showed you this Peach Blossom bracelet. The old woman who sold it said it was really effective.”

“I never expected Heaven wouldn’t send me a handsome guy, but a cool beauty instead.”

Ding Ya looked at Shu Chi. “I forgot to record her singing. I wanted you to hear it.”

But Shu Chi turned her face away. “I’ve heard it.”

Her voice was indeed beautiful, nothing like Shu Chi’s own, which was plain and unremarkable.

Her mood instantly plummeted. But Ding Ya leaned in, reaching out to hook a finger around Shu Chi’s. “Why are you unhappy again?”

Again.

Shu Chi thought to herself: Am I really that prone to getting upset?

She shook her head.

But Ding Ya just grinned mischievously and scooted closer, resting her chin on Shu Chi’s shoulder. She was closing the distance inch by inch, taking a mile for every inch granted. “She messaged me on WeChat, saying she’d invite me to her next live show. You could come with me.”

She spoke right against Shu Chi’s shoulder, and Shu Chi momentarily couldn’t tell if it was the pool water that was too hot, or Ding Ya’s words.

Shu Chi shook her head. “I’m not going.”

She never went to concerts, watched movies only occasionally, and rarely went to malls except for the two children.

By herself, she liked fishing, hiking, and cooking alone.

She was a very boring person.

“No, you’re not.”

Ding Ya’s voice rang in her ear. Only then did Shu Chi realize she’d spoken her thought aloud.

Ding Ya smiled. “No way, Boss Shu, you actually think about things like that?”

She poured Shu Chi another cup of wine, leaning back against the pool’s edge. “Boring is just a state. How are you boring? You’re very interesting.”

This person’s voice was perpetually light and bright, as if even melancholy was a fleeting thing.

In that instant, Shu Chi wished with all her heart that she would stay like this forever.

Never sad.

The negative emotions Ding Ya’s ex had caused her only made Shu Chi feel that the man was the one at fault.

Shu Chi looked at her wine, her voice low. “What’s interesting about me?”

Ding Ya clinked her own cup against Shu Chi’s. “Right now is interesting. You don’t seem older than me, you seem more like a younger sister.”

Shu Chi found this novel. Although she had two older sisters, she’d never truly experienced what it felt like to be the younger one.

After all, being the youngest meant wearing the clothes her sisters had outgrown.

Nothing good ever came to her first.

‘Just having something is good enough.’

That was what she’d told herself as a child to feel better.

Ding Ya tilted her head back and drank a cup, then let out an “Ah.” “I messed up, this cup was yours.”

The carafe and cups were a set. The patterns looked the same at first glance, but the details were reversed.

Ding Ya suppressed her inner glee and asked with calculated innocence, “Oh well, you don’t mind, do you?”

Shu Chi nodded.

The next moment, Ding Ya’s hand stroked her face. “You’re so cute.”

With no hint of treating Shu Chi as a collaborating business owner, Ding Ya’s smile spread across her face. She kneaded Shu Chi’s face just like she was ruffling a little dog, and finally, she tilted Shu Chi’s chin up.

“Shu Chi, you’re fun. Someone just needs to discover it.”

Ding Ya’s hand was warm, but it felt so hot that Shu Chi could barely keep her eyes open.

“It’s like those archaeological blind boxes I buy from the museum. You break open the clay, never knowing which artifact’s replica you’ll find inside.”

“But they’re all interesting.”

Ding Ya released her hand, sighing quietly. “Don’t worry. You’re wonderful. There will always be someone who discovers all of your goodness.”

But Shu Chi was staring at the cup she was holding—the one Ding Ya had just drunk from.

Her soft lips had touched it. And Shu Chi might well have indirectly touched the same spot.

Just the thought of it made Shu Chi feel a burning sensation in her chest.

Shu Chi drew a sharp breath. Ding Ya thought she was about to cry and turned to look, but only found the woman looking dazed.

Ding Ya chuckled, her tone betraying a hint of regret. “I thought you were going to cry for a second there.”

Shu Chi shook her head. “I don’t cry easily.”

Ding Ya said, “Surely you cried when you were little?”

Shu Chi replied, “I didn’t cry even when I was little.”

Seizing the moment, Ding Ya asked casually, “Why didn’t you continue your education after middle school?”

Shu Chi lowered her eyes. She was still holding that small cup, the hand that Ding Ya had mapped out so quickly during the Truth or Dare game now tracing the patterns on the ceramic body.

It was as if she was reliving the meticulously carved hardships of her life.

Her expression held such profound sadness.

Ding Ya instantly regretted asking.

Without warning, she lunged forward, throwing her arms around Shu Chi in a sudden embrace.

Water splashed everywhere. Instinctively, Shu Chi’s arms wrapped around her. Bewildered, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

Ding Ya said, “I want to hold you. Do you charge a fee?”

Shu Chi’s mind flashed back to the word that yellow-streaked, bangs-wearing singer had used—”request.”

She hesitated, then asked Ding Ya—

“Do you want to… request me?”