Chapter 1: Her Voice Must Sound Beautiful

White Cafe

Today’s sunlight felt exceptionally warm. Around three in the afternoon, it was the perfect weather for basking in the sun, the kind of cozy warmth that easily lulled one into drowsiness.

So it was no surprise that the golden-haired girl by the window, cradling a copy of the Violin Art Compendium, soon ended up with the book draped over her face. She lay back on the sofa without a care for her image, facing the warm sun, her legs casually crossed as she drifted off to sleep.

She didn’t look like a customer, but no one would chase her away, either.

The coffee on her table, barely touched and now cold, no longer steamed. The woman who had been busy wiping down the counter noticed and quietly replaced it with a glass of milk. With a mix of helplessness and indulgence, she gently pinched the girl’s nose bridge before tenderly draping a blanket over the golden-haired girl.

The cafe saw a steady stream of customers that afternoon, waves of people coming and going, but none of it disturbed the girl as she lounged on the sofa, soaking up the sun and sleeping soundly.

It was clear she was a regular, and she showed no signs of treating herself like a mere customer. Even in her sleep, she rolled over now and then.

“Xiao Ji’s asleep again. It’s pretty noisy here—should we wake her and send her up to the loft to rest?”

“No need. She’ll probably wake up soon anyway. You’re new, so you wouldn’t know, but this is the store manager’s little sister-in-law. She’s a college student at the Music Academy, studying violin. She comes by often and won’t wake up until we close. She can sleep through anything—the store manager said even if we get swamped with customers, don’t wake her. Just let her sleep.”

The golden-haired girl’s name was Ji Zhenshi. Her vibrant golden locks alone hinted at her lively, sunny personality. Her university was just a twenty-minute bus ride away, so whenever she had no classes, she would drop by.

She came to the coffee shop owned by her nominal sister-in-law, not to help out or for any particular reason—just to sit there for an entire afternoon.

After rolling over once more, as the warm sunlight faded into dusk, Ji Zhenshi slowly stirred awake. She casually ruffled her long hair and removed the book from her face.

The blanket slipped from her chest with the movement, carrying a familiar faint fragrance that drew her gaze to the woman busy at the counter. That gentle profile, like spring water, had a stray lock of hair softly falling, adding a touch of warmth to her elegant features.

Ji Zhenshi’s lips curved into a gentle smile. Her fingers tightened on the edge of the blanket as she propped her chin on her hand, leisurely admiring that slender figure.

Li Yunli—her nominal sister-in-law.

Her slim frame didn’t hinder her efficient work. With an apron tied around her waist and her long hair casually pinned up, her refined features radiated a softness that disarmed any harshness.

Ji Zhenshi brushed the blanket deliberately against her chin, her eyes softening with affection. Her dazzling golden hair glowed against the twilight, framing her free-spirited individuality.

Only when the customer traffic finally thinned did Ji Zhenshi neatly fold the blanket and rise, heading to the counter. She handed it over to Li Yunli as if it were routine, then flashed a light smile. “Sister A-Yun, I’m heading back to school. Don’t work too hard—get some rest early.”

With that, Ji Zhenshi pulled a gardenia flower from behind her back like a magician, placing it calmly into the vase on the counter amid the neatly trimmed bouquet of lily flowers.

It felt as natural as if she’d done it a thousand times.

Li Yunli, busy behind the counter, looked up at the sound of her voice. Seeing Ji Zhenshi about to leave, she raised her hands and signed, “Are you hungry? Want to stay for dinner before you go? I saved some ribs and potato stew for you—the kind you like. Eat it before heading back to school?”

Her slender fingers danced quickly through the air, forming the words. Worried Ji Zhenshi might not catch it all, she pulled a small notebook from her apron pocket and scribbled a quick note.

—Ribs and potato stew. Dinner together?

Li Yunli couldn’t speak—not due to congenital deafness or muteness, but from a stress disorder triggered by severe trauma. She communicated with those who didn’t understand sign language by writing, her handwriting swift yet graceful, neat rows that were easy to read at a glance.

Ji Zhenshi’s gaze lingered on Li Yunli, quietly watching the warmth in her brows undercut by a hint of flustered haste as she wrote.

Li Yunli always moved efficiently, never dawdling, for fear of testing someone’s patience.

She had seen too many people grow impatient waiting for her to finish writing, dismissing her with irritation.

A woman of utmost gentleness, yet constantly met with strange looks because she couldn’t speak. The deepest wounds came from her own family, who made no effort to hide their disdain.

But Ji Zhenshi watched patiently, without a trace of impatience. When Li Yunli held up the notebook, Ji Zhenshi didn’t even glance at it before nodding, baring her even teeth in a brilliant grin. “Sure! I’m starving. It’s only been a few days without your cooking, and I’m already missing it, Sister A-Yun. I’ll head back later—you go ahead with your work. I’m in no rush, so take your time.”

No rush—the words carried double meaning. Ji Zhenshi always reassured Li Yunli that those who cared had all the patience in the world.

She understood sign language. Li Yunli had lived with the Ji family for six years. Though her scumbag brother had landed in prison for deliberately hurting her, preventing their marriage certificate, the family had still accepted her as a daughter-in-law in exchange for sixty thousand yuan in “bride price.”

For those six years, unable to speak, Li Yunli faced family members who couldn’t read sign language. They made her write everything down but rarely had the patience to read a full line, telling her to just stay silent.

Only Ji Zhenshi had secretly learned sign language, fluent enough to converse smoothly even with the deaf and mute.

She was the only one in the family who understood Li Yunli’s signs and had the patience to read her notebook scribbles.

Li Yunli nodded, gently ruffling Ji Zhenshi’s hair before warming a glass of milk and placing it softly into her hands. Indulgence filled her eyes as her hands signed lightly, “Drink less coffee. You’re still growing—have more milk.”

The milk was perfectly warm, just right in her palm.

Ji Zhenshi eyed the full glass and smiled helplessly. “I’m twenty-two this year. What more growing do I need? I already had a coffee earlier—if I drink this, I’ll turn into a cow.”

If anything, Li Yunli treated her more like a child than her own parents did. She forbade unhealthy snacks, nagged her to drink milk, monitored her studies—acting every bit the guardian.

Yet Ji Zhenshi obeyed her without complaint. For all her teenage rebellion against restrictions, she never minded Li Yunli’s, and she spent every free moment at the coffee shop rather than heading home a few kilometers away.

Ji Zhenshi pushed the milk away in mock resistance and returned to her seat. She slipped on her sunglasses, crossed her legs languidly, and lifted her chin arrogantly. “I’m not drinking it. Nope, not a drop more—I can’t.”

She struck a defiant pose, as if daring Li Yunli to do something about it, even arching a brow provocatively.

Like a bratty kid refusing to behave.

Li Yunli’s eyes were like a clear spring, watching Ji Zhenshi’s tantrum without anger, instead indulgent as she hooked a finger under her nose.

“Twenty-two is still young. You’re in your prime, still growing taller. Too much coffee, and you won’t sleep tonight—how will you manage classes tomorrow?”

Even in sign language, Ji Zhenshi could read the scolding yet pampering tone in her expression.

Her voice must sound beautiful.

If only Ji Zhenshi could hear it.

“But I’m taller than you. Round it up, and I’m almost five foot seven—pretty tall for down south. If twenty-two is still young, how old do you have to be to count as grown-up?” Ji Zhenshi tilted her head, asking earnestly.

She was nominally her sister-in-law, but Ji Zhenshi never called her that. At first, she flat-out refused; later, needing a name, she settled on Sister A-Yun or Yunli Sis, and it stuck.

Li Yunli never corrected her, letting Ji Zhenshi call her whatever felt right. In her eyes, Ji Zhenshi was still that sixteen-year-old high schooler with the high ponytail.

Kids were willful by nature, and Li Yunli indulged her. In a way, she’d guided Ji Zhenshi from high school through college; now she was a senior on the cusp of graduation.

“Probably in another two years, or after college graduation, and you’ll no longer be a little girl.” Li Yunli signed, ruffled her hair again, then turned back to the counter.

Without checking if Ji Zhenshi had understood.

Often, Ji Zhenshi threw tantrums by pretending not to get the signs, leaving Li Yunli unsure just how much she really knew after all these years.

Six years should be enough for the basics, but considering how Xiao Ji Zhenshi’s parents—Li Yunli’s nominal in-laws—grasped sign language, she had her doubts.

“I’m not a little girl anymore! Only you treat a twenty-two-year-old college student like a kid who still needs to grow!” Ji Zhenshi raised her voice in protest.

Li Yunli just glanced back with a soft smile and continued her work.

Ji Zhenshi huffed, communication stalled. She donned her sunglasses to play cool, even flipping pages louder than usual to vent her displeasure.

She hated being treated like a child by Li Yunli—it made all that tenderness feel like obligatory care from a sister-in-law to her husband’s little sister.

She wasn’t some kid!

Especially since she despised her good-for-nothing brother. The thought of him getting out of prison and ending up with a gem like Li Yunli—maybe even marrying her—made her skin crawl.

The cafe was small, catering to nearby students and office workers. It never got overwhelmingly busy. With the previous employee leaving in two days, they’d hired a new one, but usually, it was just Li Yunli and one other. After the afternoon rush, when the employee clocked out after bidding farewell, Li Yunli manned the place alone.

Once they were gone, Ji Zhenshi slipped behind the counter, leaning on the sink edge. She poked her head close to Li Yunli’s, batting her eyes. “Sister A-Yun, we’ve got the school celebration in a couple days, and I’m performing onstage. I want to invite you—got time to watch?”

Her voice dripped with unmasked coquetry as she tugged at Li Yunli’s sleeve while washing cups. Leaning in, she grinned like a bright crescent moon, her hair brushing her brow bone, radiant as the sun.

She seemed confident this would work, her eyes sparkling with premature celebration.

Li Yunli kept her gaze down, lips curved in a smile, continuing her task— pointedly ignoring her.

Punishing her for the earlier milk standoff, no doubt.

After half a minute with no response, Ji Zhenshi caught on to the teasing. She took a running leap, looping her arms around Li Yunli’s neck from behind. Her body hovered for a moment, nearly climbing on, before launching into full shameless mode. “Li Yunli! This is your punishment for the milk? It’s a school-wide performance—not everyone gets this shot. I fought through auditions from thousands to land it. You won’t come see such an important moment for me?”

Li Yunli turned her head, brow furrowing slightly in reminder that calling her by name was rude—she was the elder, after all.

But the next instant, Ji Zhenshi leaned to her ear. Li Yunli turned without pulling back in time, and their noses brushed—her tip grazing the edge of Ji Zhenshi’s lip.

In that moment, Li Yunli shivered all over, acutely aware of their intimacy.

Her body tensed as she signed stiffly, “I promise. Get down first.”

Even in signs, her fluster was palpable.

At some point, their closeness had grown so intimate. Ji Zhenshi shared her teenage secrets and worries, closer to Li Yunli than to her own mother.

Before, Li Yunli hadn’t minded, treating her like the little girl who showed her kindness in a harsh home, returning it with gentleness.

But Ji Zhenshi’s sunny intensity overwhelmed her defenses. She rarely got this close with anyone; it felt unnatural.

“I can’t see! Not unless you promise never to force milk on me again.” Ji Zhenshi shook her head like a rattle, oblivious to the stiffness—or pretending to be—as she buried her face in Li Yunli’s shoulder, playing spoiled.

Li Yunli was slim, her shoulders bony, but she always carried a faint milky scent—not from milk, but subtler, more reassuring, like her natural fragrance. You had to get close to catch it.

A bit taller than Li Yunli and toned from years of violin practice, Ji Zhenshi easily pulled her into an embrace.

The girl’s arms felt like a pocket of sunlight, enveloping her in comforting warmth.

After a deep breath, Li Yunli let her carry on for a few minutes before writing in the notebook.

—Xiao Zhen, no more messing around. I promise I’ll go. Let me go first.

Unable to speak, Li Yunli’s gentle nature meant she endured the antics patiently, waiting for them to pass before explaining calmly.