Chapter 28: Kiss Part 1

Jiang Zhizhou lowered her eyes to the circle of teeth marks on her wrist, where the skin was broken and blood had seeped out. She looked up at Jiang Qingmeng.

Jiang Qingmeng was still smiling—a soft, gentle smile, pure and captivating, her face the picture of innocence.

A burning pain throbbed from her wrist, sending her blood surging through her veins.

Jiang Zhizhou tugged her sleeve down to cover the bite mark, then took a step forward. She wrapped her arm around Jiang Qingmeng’s slender waist and drew her close until their foreheads touched.

They were too close now. Their warm breaths tangled together, and the narrow changing room seemed to heat up in an instant.

Jiang Qingmeng reached up to stroke her cheek, the pad of her index finger gently rubbing the outer corner of her eye. Her eyes were so much like her own.

“Qingmeng,” Jiang Zhizhou said, “what exactly is your relationship with him?”

“You said last night you weren’t interested.”

“I am.” Far more than interested—jealousy had tormented her all night long. “But this is the last time I’m asking.”

“A business partnership.” Jiang Qingmeng let out a low chuckle. “Just like with you, I need to stir up some scandal with him too.”

“Is that so?” Sourness and pain twisted in her chest. Jiang Zhizhou sneered coldly and released her waist, putting distance between them. “The same kind of partnership as with me?” The words had barely left her mouth when fury surged uncontrollably in her eyes. She closed the gap again, pressing against Jiang Qingmeng’s soft body, her lips brushing the corner of her mouth. “Does he do this to you like I do?” She kissed the corner of her lips, then swept aside the strands of hair by her right ear. Tenderly, one by one, she kissed her earlobe, her hair, her eyebrows, her eyes—as if cherishing an invaluable treasure.

Jiang Zhizhou cupped her face and asked earnestly, “Does your other business partner touch you like this? Hmm?”

Their noses touched, warm breaths fanning over each other’s lips, hearts pounding wildly.

Without waiting for an answer, Jiang Zhizhou closed her eyes, tilted her head, leaned in, and claimed her full, rosy lips.

Lip met lip, softness against softness. Every breath carried the uniquely feminine fragrance that was intoxicating.

It was like an electric shock. Jiang Qingmeng’s eyes flew wide open, and she shoved Jiang Zhizhou away with all her strength, her face flushing crimson.

Bang! The back of Jiang Zhizhou’s head slammed hard against the wall.

Dazed and dizzy, her ears ringing, Jiang Zhizhou clutched her head and sank to the floor in agony. She panted heavily, taking quite a while to recover.

By the time she stood, Jiang Qingmeng was gone.

Jiang Zhizhou slumped against the wall, lifted her arm, and stared at the bloody mark on her wrist.

She licked her lips, tasting blood on her tongue.

It was her own blood, left behind on Jiang Qingmeng’s lips.

She zoned out for a moment, then banished the dejection from her eyes. She changed back into her own clothes and headed out.

At the film set entrance, Jiang Qingmeng stood leaning against the car door in a black trench coat, mask and sunglasses in place.

Jiang Zhizhou pretended not to see her and strode past without a glance, but Jiang Qingmeng grabbed her arm.

“Get in the car.”

Jiang Zhizhou shook off her hand, her face as cold as stone, and kept walking.

Jiang Qingmeng removed her sunglasses and mask, slid into the driver’s seat, and drove after her.

After a short distance, Jiang Zhizhou stopped and turned around.

Jiang Qingmeng pulled up alongside her and opened the passenger door. “Get in the car.”

Jiang Zhizhou ignored her. Her nose began to sting as a flood of grievances welled up inside her. She turned and walked on.

Teasing her one moment, pushing her away the next, then pulling her close again—what did she take her for?

Jiang Qingmeng shut the door and continued tailing her.

Ten minutes later, Jiang Zhizhou came to a stop once more.

Jiang Qingmeng opened the door. “Last chance. Get in.”

Remembering her infuriating three-strikes rule, Jiang Zhizhou climbed into the car with red-rimmed eyes, silent.

In the car, Jiang Qingmeng took hold of her left hand.

Jiang Zhizhou flinched and tried to pull away, but Jiang Qingmeng gripped it firmly.

Warm water, cotton swabs, and gauze were already prepared in the car.

Jiang Qingmeng rolled up her sleeve.

The bite wasn’t deep and hadn’t bled much; the blood had dried, leaving just a red mark tinged with blood.

Jiang Qingmeng stared at the bite mark for a few seconds, then poured warm water from the thermos onto a cotton swab. Gently, meticulously, she cleaned the wound.

As she worked, she kept glancing up at Jiang Zhizhou’s face, as if afraid it might hurt.

Once the blood was cleaned off, she wrapped a few layers of gauze around her wrist. “I’ll have someone send over some scar removal ointment later.”

“No need. I have some.” Jiang Zhizhou kept her eyes fixed on the window, red-rimmed and refusing to look at her.

Jiang Qingmeng turned her face toward her, forcing their eyes to meet. In a soft voice, she asked, “Does it hurt?”

Meeting her gaze, Jiang Zhizhou replied coldly, “You know the answer. Want me to bite you and find out?”

Jiang Qingmeng curved her lips into a smile at those words. She undid her cuff button, rolled up her sleeve to mid-arm, and revealed her fair, flawless wrist like polished jade. She extended it right to Jiang Zhizhou’s lips.

Jiang Zhizhou stared at it for a moment before leaning in close. In the end, she couldn’t bring herself to bite. She merely brushed her lips gently against it, then pulled the sleeve back down and fastened the cuff for her.

Jiang Qingmeng stared straight at her. “You’re keeping something from me.”

Jiang Zhizhou met her gaze directly. “You’re keeping something from me too.”

Jiang Qingmeng asked, “Will you tell me?”

Jiang Zhizhou countered, “Will you?”

A triumphant smile spread across Jiang Qingmeng’s face. “If you don’t, I’ll find out eventually.”

Jiang Zhizhou replied, “If you don’t, I won’t ask again.”

Jiang Qingmeng leaned over to buckle her seatbelt. “Then don’t ask.”

Jiang Zhizhou was the type who yielded to kindness but not force. Hearing this made her stubborn side flare up. “No, I have to ask. Do you like Jiang Zhizhou?”

“What if I do? What if I don’t? What’s it got to do with you?” Jiang Qingmeng stepped on the accelerator and headed toward the hotel.

She was always gentle, her voice soft and measured. But these words came out louder, carrying a sharp edge.

The scenery outside blurred past in a rush. Jiang Zhizhou glanced at the speedometer needle and paled. “Slow down—you’re speeding.” Ever since the car accident, she’d been terrified of fast cars.

Jiang Qingmeng eased off the gas, and the speed gradually dropped.

After a long silence, she lowered her voice. “The person’s already dead. Asking about it now is pointless.”

Another stretch of quiet passed before Jiang Zhizhou spoke. “Fine then. Let’s give each other some time to think it over. We don’t have to answer right now.”

“How long?”

“Not long. Tomorrow, we’ll give each other our answers. Okay?”

Jiang Qingmeng glanced at her watch. “Okay. It’s seven now. By seven tomorrow night, I want your answer.”

Jiang Zhizhou agreed. “Deal.”

The car fell quiet for a bit, the tension easing. Only then did Jiang Zhizhou remember to ask casually, “Where are your assistant and bodyguard?”

“She’s back at the hotel handling some things. The bodyguard’s in the car behind us.”

A black Mercedes had been tailing them the whole time.

Jiang Zhizhou nodded. “There’s a street up ahead. Pull over.”

“What for?”

“I’m hungry. I want to grab something to eat.”

“We’re almost at the hotel.”

“I want to go shopping to clear my head. I haven’t done that in ages.”

Stripped of her superstar aura, Jiang Zhizhou was just like any ordinary girl—loving shopping sprees, snacks, and clothes.

Jiang Qingmeng pulled over to the curb. Jiang Zhizhou asked, “What do you want to eat?”

Jiang Qingmeng shook her head. “Nothing.”

Jiang Zhizhou opened the passenger door, about to step out, then turned back. “Want to come shopping with me?” She paused, then rephrased, “Will you keep me company?”

Jiang Qingmeng hesitated for a moment. She shrugged off her black trench coat, grabbed a plain white puffer jacket from the back seat, and slipped it on. She topped it off with a knit beanie, then pointed at Jiang Zhizhou’s scarf. “Give me the scarf.”

Jiang Zhizhou unwound her own scarf and wrapped it around Jiang Qingmeng, covering her mouth and nose until only a pair of gentle, clear eyes peeked out.

Jiang Qingmeng frowned slightly. “This isn’t the same one as last time.”

Jiang Zhizhou arched a brow. “Do you wear the same clothes every day without changing?” She’d tossed that one in the wash last night.

Before getting out, Jiang Zhizhou slipped on a black face mask of her own.

Plenty of people wore masks in winter to fend off the cold, so they didn’t stand out.

The bustling street was lit up like daylight.

The two tall, elegant women drew plenty of admiring glances.

The area was near the Film and TV Base, where bit-part actors and starlets often wandered these streets, so people were used to seeing good-looking faces.

No one imagined a top trending idol would show up on this obscure little street, let alone Jiang Qingmeng.

To outsiders, Jiang Qingmeng looked like some ethereal fairy who lived off air and dew—fairies didn’t shop for clothes or munch on snacks like mortals.

The crowds surged like tides. Afraid of getting separated, Jiang Zhizhou took Jiang Qingmeng’s right hand in her left and tucked it into her coat pocket, warming it as they went.

The street was lined with tempting shops. As they browsed, Jiang Zhizhou chatted with the woman beside her. “When I was little, whenever my parents had a fight and made up, they’d take me out shopping together.”

Jiang Qingmeng said flatly, “You were lucky.”

It was clear her own parents had loved each other deeply.

Growing up in a home full of parental love was a true blessing. Kids from those families turned out confident and optimistic, with endless warmth and light deep in their hearts.

Talking about happy families with someone from a broken one, though—that was downright cruel.

Jiang Zhizhou interlaced their fingers, sharing the warmth of her palm as she continued. “When my dad went shopping, he liked slipping my mom’s hand into his pocket. I saw it and thought, when I grow up, I’ll hold the hand of the person I like and tuck it into my pocket too.”

“How old were you then?”

“Twelve.”

“How were you already thinking about someone you liked at twelve?”

“What’s so weird about that? In ancient times, girls got married at thirteen or fourteen. By twelve, I had enough love letters to fill a whole drawer. Though back then, I only wanted to marry my idol. Didn’t you have a crush at twelve?”

Jiang Qingmeng didn’t answer. Instead, she asked, “Who was your idol at twelve?”

“Zhang XX, the one from Hong Kong.”

“Then you’re out of luck. He’s married, and his kid’s about your age.”

Jiang Zhizhou laughed. “I know. I’ve jumped ship now—I’m not a fan anymore.”

She’d been neck-deep in fandom for half a year, so the lingo came naturally.

They happened to pass a shop, and the sweet aroma of candied chestnuts wafted over. Jiang Zhizhou stopped, bought a bag, and started peeling them as they walked.

She split each one in half after peeling. One piece went into her own mouth first. If it tasted sweet on her tongue, she offered the other half to Jiang Qingmeng’s lips. If not, she popped it in herself.

Jiang Qingmeng would pause for a second, then tug down her scarf, dip her head slightly, and take the morsel from her palm with her lips.

As she leaned in, the tip of her nose would sometimes brush Jiang Zhizhou’s palm—a light, ticklish touch.

Like feeding a kitten.

She really was like a cat.

Gentle and beautiful, sensitive by turns elegant and alluring, her sharp claws tucked away in soft pads. Provoke her, though, and she’d bite.

The thought conjured an image of a fluffy little creature, softening Jiang Zhizhou’s heart. She ducked her head and smiled.

Jiang Qingmeng glanced at her. “What’s so funny?”

Jiang Zhizhou peeled another chestnut and tossed it into her mouth. “Nothing.”

Just that you’re adorable.

Further along the food street, a busker stood out—a girl in her early twenties, with a portable speaker, a microphone, and a QR code propped up nearby.

She held the mic aloft. “Song requests? Name anything. If you like what you hear, scan and tip if you feel like it.”

They’d just finished the bag of chestnuts. Jiang Zhizhou tugged Jiang Qingmeng into the cluster of onlookers to watch the show.

Someone in the crowd called out, “Hit us with ‘Courage’—Liang Jingru!”

The title had turned into a running joke online, fodder for memes, and the crowd erupted in laughter.

The little girl grinned along, then queued up the backing track. She raised the mic and sang in earnest.

A timeless classic. The melody pulled them back more than a decade.

Over ten years ago, Chinese pop was still thriving.

Over ten years ago, love in song lyrics stayed subtle and sweet.

“…

Just one affirming glance from you,

And my love finds its meaning.

We all need a little courage

To believe we’ll end up together.