Chapter 26: Poison Feather

The others tactfully kept their distance, leaving the space for the two of them.

Although Kong Zhizhen had taken the initiative to strike up a conversation, she didn’t come across as overly enthusiastic. After a simple self-introduction, she turned her attention back to enjoying the music on stage, only occasionally turning her head to chat with Chu Susu.

Her skin wasn’t particularly fair; it was a healthy wheat color. The way she swayed to the rhythm was incredibly casual, carrying a hint of wildness and carefree spirit.

Though Kong Zhizhen was worlds apart from the soft, cute type that Chu Susu and the others liked, she was straightforward and full of personality. Chu Susu didn’t mind getting to know her.

During the brief two hours of the music festival, Li Le’er successfully exchanged WeChat contacts with the handsome guy she fancied.

Once the performances ended, the two groups naturally decided to grab some late-night barbecue together.

There was a barbecue joint in the town with charcoal grills set up right outside, open-air dining under the stars and moon, meat sizzling away.

The guy said something funny that had Li Le’er doubled over in laughter, giggling nonstop. She didn’t notice Zhou Xiaoying’s expressionless face beside her, growing increasingly silent.

In fact, while they chatted animatedly, Zhou Xiaoying deliberately turned her head away, averting her gaze.

Chu Susu inwardly roasted: What a hopeless romantic, totally immersed in her straight-girl crush.

Wasn’t it obvious that Li Le’er wasn’t into girls? Zhou Xiaoying insisted on turning friendship into ambiguity—what could anyone do?

Chu Susu knew she’d never listen no matter what she said, so she didn’t bother advising her. She just sympathetically patted Zhou Xiaoying’s shoulder before getting up to head to the bathroom.

Plenty of music festival-goers were staying in town, but with all the mosquitoes at night, their group was the only one eating at this outdoor barbecue spot.

No line at the bathroom. Chu Susu reapplied her lipstick, the mirror reflecting her with her long hair tied into a high ponytail, looking sharper and more refreshed than with it down.

Before long, another figure appeared in the mirror.

Kong Zhizhen pushed the door open and stopped diagonally behind her, just in time to catch Chu Susu checking herself out.

“I just couldn’t sit there anymore.” She stuck out her tongue, her expression a bit playful. “Your friend, that Le’er girl, is way too oblivious.”

“Oh?”

It seemed Kong Zhizhen had also picked up on the weird vibe between Zhou Xiaoying and Li Le’er.

In fact, anyone with eyes could see something was off with Zhou Xiaoying—except, of course, Li Le’er herself.

Kong Zhizhen continued, “She’s been chatting up Xiao Xiang nonstop. There are some things I can’t say to her face—could you pass it along for me?”

Xiao Xiang was the guy talking to Li Le’er.

“Hm? What?”

“Xiao Xiang has a girlfriend.” Kong Zhizhen sighed. “They’re in the middle of breaking up, but it’s not fully over yet. Your friend better not fall for him.”

Chu Susu frowned at that. If true, she’d definitely have to warn Li Le’er—wouldn’t want this sweet little fool getting played by a scumbag.

“Thanks for telling me.”

Still, Kong Zhizhen was Xiao Xiang’s friend; logically, she should be on his side. Why the sudden burst of righteousness to tip her off?

Chu Susu had a flash of insight, her gaze sweeping over the reflection in the mirror. She pretty much figured out the other girl’s intentions.

To put it bluntly, the real target wasn’t the wine.

They didn’t dwell on the topic.

Kong Zhizhen stared at Chu Susu’s back, her green glitter eyeshadow shimmering under the fluorescent light.

She complimented her openly: “You’re really beautiful. You were shining in the crowd—I spotted you right away.”

Chu Susu pressed her lips together, smudging the edge of her lip line with her finger. She didn’t turn around, just smiled faintly at the mirror, her tone carrying a subtle distance: “Thanks, you’re pretty too.”

She heard the click of footsteps. Kong Zhizhen came up beside her and asked bluntly, “Are you a 1?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna hook up tonight?”

As expected, this was a 419 proposition. Though such straightforwardness was pretty rare.

Kong Zhizhen added candidly, “No other intentions. I’m just straightforward like that. I saw you and liked you, so I figured I’d ask. If you think I’m decent, we could give it a shot.”

“If not, just tell me straight up—no hard feelings.”

She laid all her cards on the table. Chu Susu neither refused nor agreed, just smiled and countered:

“Don’t you have a girlfriend? Girls must flock to you.”

“…I used to.”

She’d had a few beers with the skewers earlier, and now her face was flushed. She simply leaned against the wall and squatted down. “Not anymore.”

“I see.”

Not sure what nerve that question hit, but it dredged up some memory. Kong Zhizhen sighed wistfully and suddenly said something totally unrelated:

“I’m going home next month to get engaged.”

Chu Susu let out a surprised “Ah?”—she hadn’t expected that.

Kong Zhizhen said softly, “This is my last time hanging out with friends like this, so… I wanna do something wild, as a memento. After marriage, I won’t be with girls anymore.”

She propped her chin, eyes distant, giving a self-deprecating smile.

“What about your fiancé…”

“Arranged by the family—haven’t even met him a few times.” Kong Zhizhen brushed it off lightly. “My mom threatened suicide. I fought it, but in the end, I couldn’t.”

Chu Susu finally turned to look at her quietly but kept her thoughts to herself.

—A man she’d barely met, getting engaged to him… was that really the right choice? Would she be happy?

Was a forced compromise with parental suicide threats truly a good outcome?

It sounded absurd, but society was like that. People got trapped, pushed by all sorts of external forces into betraying their true selves.

Chu Susu knew not everyone could be like her—brave enough to blow up their family over their sexuality.

Life was full of ties. Those who compromised weren’t lacking courage.

They were just too kind, sacrificing themselves for others.

When Chu Zhen had pointed at her nose and yelled “Get out,” when the whole family saw her as a deviant beyond saving, in countless exhausted nights, Chu Susu had wavered too. Maybe just give in?

Maybe nod and say she’d never like girls again. What was the point of this standoff?

But there was always a voice echoing in her mind.

—You’re not wrong.

Yeah, she hadn’t done anything wrong. Why bow her head? Just because she was “different”?

So in the end, Chu Susu stood firm, choosing her own path and the life she wanted.

But she knew how hard it was, so she didn’t judge those who couldn’t.

Who’d choose that if they had a choice?

Like Kong Zhizhen—who else would spill their heart to a stranger they’d just met, fueled by alcohol?

She’d probably bottled it up too long.

Chu Susu squatted down, gazing into Kong Zhizhen’s lonely eyes—like a proud peacock plucked bare, caged in a zoo for laughs, its former pride ground away.

She reached out and gently patted her head.

Kong Zhizhen grasped her hand, eyes shimmering with emotion, pleading silently.

They came from different worlds, heading different ways. After tonight, they’d part forever, parallel lines never crossing.

No responsibilities, nothing to bear.

Chu Susu got it, so she let Kong Zhizhen hold her wrist, pulling her closer until their breaths mingled, lips almost touching.

In that fleeting moment, she spaced out, mind flashing to an unrelated scene.

That day in the car, Han Xuan in oversized clothes that didn’t fit, half her shoulder exposed, tilting her head close and asking—

Don’t you want them to pay?

As if oblivious to how tempting she looked.

Chu Susu traced Han Xuan’s features in her memory, suddenly wondering what it would’ve felt like to kiss her then.

Would Han Xuan blush furiously, pushing her away with a coquettish gasp? Or tear up, whimpering in grievance?

The fragments raced through her mind like a montage.

Snapping back, she heard Kong Zhizhen murmur drunkenly in her ear: “Is it okay?”

Chu Susu had been staring right at her, but her eyes had lost focus for a second, now refocusing sharply—like a bucket of cold water dumped over her head.

Han Xuan’s face in her mind snapped back to reality: Kong Zhizhen, green eyeshadow still glittering.

Nothing changed, yet everything did.

The face she’d found so unique moments ago suddenly felt utterly bland.

Chu Susu hadn’t been that into it anyway. Her interest vanished in an instant, her decision crystal clear.

She would turn her down.

“Sorry.” Chu Susu pulled her hand free. “Not tonight.”

This sentence made Kong Zhizhen’s eyes suddenly lose their light, her face full of embarrassment. “Do you think… I’m really bad at it?”

“How could that be?”

Chu Susu gently stroked the other’s head again. “I’m on my period today, not feeling great, and my condition’s off.”

She gestured for Kong Zhizhen to look at the sink, where a sealed tampon lay quietly—the one she had brought earlier, intending to change into it.

“Really?”

“Really.”

This reason was genuine, and Kong Zhizhen felt a bit better. She was only slightly tipsy and wouldn’t make a scene. “Sorry for bothering you for so long.”

She said no more. After apologizing, she stood up to leave, her steps still casual and carefree, as if their earlier conversation had never happened.

Chu Susu watched her back. “Be yourself.”

“What?” Kong Zhizhen’s steps halted.

“You only live once. Be a little selfish and live the way you want to.”

Kong Zhizhen said nothing more and left.

Chu Susu stood there for a moment, thinking that Han Xuan must have cast some spell on her.

The girl who had seemed so appealing earlier lost all attraction the moment she recalled Han Xuan.

Why?

She straightened her hair, puzzled at how she suddenly had a bit of Zhou Xiaoying’s hopeless romantic vibe.

It was probably because Han Xuan matched her tastes perfectly in both personality and looks. After encountering her ideal type, everyone else just seemed bland.

As if by telepathy, just as Chu Susu was thinking about Han Xuan, her phone went “ding dong” with a WeChat notification from none other than Han Xuan.

She opened the chat, and the first thing she saw was a selfie.

Perhaps because the shop was too hot, Han Xuan had undone two buttons on her work uniform, revealing her entire collarbone—and a bit further down, the tantalizing curve that hinted at a rounded shape.

With such a slender figure, all the flesh was in the right places—not overly busty, but perfectly proportioned, creating an alluring contrast.

And Han Xuan’s expression was innocently oblivious, as if she had no idea at all.

Han Xuan: “Took a photo of Pipi for you to see.”

Only then did Chu Susu notice that Han Xuan was holding Pipi in the photo. The little dog nestled in her arms, looking very affectionate with her, all cute and cuddly like a soft ball of yellow fluff.

Sorry, Pipi. She reflected inwardly. Mom almost overlooked you. Bad mom! Won’t happen next time!

As Chu Susu was wondering what to reply, Han Xuan sent another message:

“Wanna video call to see it?”