Chapter 33: I Like You

Xia Siyuan finished her meal quickly and retreated to her room on her own.

Meanwhile, starting from the moment Ji Zhenshi set down her bowl and chopsticks, she stuck to Li Yunli like a shadow, trailing behind her and circling around several times.

“Sister A-Yun, why don’t you just crash here tonight? My bed’s plenty big, and it’s too late for you to head back—I wouldn’t rest easy.”

“I’m telling you, it’s dangerous out there. You’re so gorgeous; what if something happens? It’s way safer here with me.”

“Don’t worry, Xia Siyuan won’t breathe a word. Once she’s in her room, she pretty much stays put.”

Ji Zhenshi pulled out all the stops to convince Li Yunli to stay.

Li Yunli had seen right through her intentions from the start. As she stirred the medicine in her cup, she dropped in a sugar cube. Once it had cooled to the right temperature, she pressed the cup into Ji Zhenshi’s hands. “Drink your medicine.”

When Ji Zhenshi’s days and nights flipped, her immune system tanked, leaving her prone to colds and coughs.

The fragile little Xiao Zhen who could barely fend for herself.

Tonight, she’d deliberately tamped down her coughing, but her hoarse voice betrayed her.

Anxious to keep persuading, Ji Zhenshi gulped down the medicine in a few swallows. She grimaced, wiped her mouth, and pleaded, “Sister A-Yun, I won’t rest easy if you go back.”

Only after watching her finish did Li Yunli gesture in response. “No can do. I won’t rest easy leaving the coffee shop unattended, and I drove here anyway.”

“The key thing is you taking care of yourself. I’ve left the medicine on the table—three times a day, right on schedule. Check in with me.”

Not a shred of obedience. Away from her, she fell ill so easily.

Li Yunli straightened Ji Zhenshi’s collar, looking as if she wanted to say something but holding back in the end.

“Sister A-Yun… Xiao Ning and the others will handle closing the coffee shop. If you can’t step away for even a day, why hire them in the first place?” Ji Zhenshi wheedled, unwilling to let her go. Her voice was soft and drawn-out in a coquettish whine that would have given Xia Siyuan goosebumps.

“Be good. I’m heading out.” Li Yunli was set on leaving, and there was no stopping her.

She slung her bag over her shoulder, glanced back with a soft smile, and gestured. “Weren’t you worried about me? Walk me out?”

“Oh.” Reluctantly, Ji Zhenshi shuffled after her in her slippers, head hanging low like a wilted flower.

Li Yunli took the initiative to grab her hand. As they waited for the elevator, Li Yunli finally couldn’t hold back. “Xiao Zhen, your violin teacher—is she young?”

“Eh, she looks it, but she’s actually over thirty, with a real commanding presence.” Ji Zhenshi answered offhandedly, too wrapped up in her gloom over Li Yunli’s departure to notice the complicated look on her face.

Each harbored her own thoughts.

“Xiao Zhen, say goodbye?” Li Yunli prompted when they reached the car, turning back.

“Mm…” Ji Zhenshi had barely responded when her pocket buzzed. She glanced at the screen, and her drooping expression lit up in an instant. “Sister A-Yun, hang on a sec. Gotta take this.”

Ji Zhenshi shot Li Yunli a look, then turned away to answer. “Teacher Tang, I was literally just about to call you. I saw what you sent—is there really a shot for me to get onstage? Even one song would be amazing, as long as I make it up there.”

“That’s too kind of you.”

“…”

Li Yunli watched it all unfold, the softness on her face slowly freezing over as she stared at Ji Zhenshi chattering excitedly into the phone.

Teacher Tang—the teacher Ji Zhenshi had mentioned?

“Sister A-Yun, get this: Teacher Tang just called saying I might play a piece at that small concert her company’s putting on!” Ji Zhenshi hung up and rushed to share the news.

“Yes! I get a stage. No pay, but three hundred people in the audience!” Her eyes sparkled as she gazed at Li Yunli.

Li Yunli’s rigid smile gradually thawed. In the end, she flashed a thumbs-up and ruffled Ji Zhenshi’s hair.

“Mm. Xiao Zhen’s amazing, so keep pushing.”

A girl whose eyes turned to stars over the tiniest chance.

So dazzling she nearly lit up the woman beside her.

Ji Zhenshi wanted to say more, but Li Yunli had already slipped into the car.

Ji Zhenshi frowned at the vanishing taillights and let out a helpless sigh. Her joy scattered like mist. She spread her hands. “I was gonna invite you…”

To watch her very first official performance, posing as staff.

What a shame.

Hands jammed in her pockets, humming a tune, Ji Zhenshi hopped onto the flower bed edging and tilted her head to the starry sky.

Strange—no moon tonight.

Her shadow stretched long under the streetlamp, but she paid it no mind, head craned skyward. Cloudless, stars twinkling everywhere… but no moon.

Arms flung wide, Ji Zhenshi flopped onto a bench, waiting all night for the moon.

Would she ever catch sight of it?

Ji Zhenshi couldn’t wait out the moon. Nor Li Yunli.

…

Coffee Shop

“Store Manager, we’re low on this coffee bean. Any stock left? Should I hit up the supplier for more?”

“Hm? Store Manager? You listening?”

“Store Manager? Hellooo?” Xiao Ning waved a hand in front of Li Yunli’s face, trying to jolt her from her daze.

Strange. Li Yunli, spaced out?

No clue what was eating at her. These past couple days, she’d been totally checked out, ignoring Xiao Ning multiple times.

Something go down? To rattle Li Yunli like this for days?

“Manager Li!” Xiao Ning amped up her volume, leaning in close.

Li Yunli turned her way. “What is it?”

Xiao Ning repeated herself.

“Got it. I’ll reach out.” Li Yunli typed a quick reply on her notebook, then dropped her gaze back to the cups she was washing.

Her mind was a whirlwind lately, drifting unbidden to old memories with Ji Zhenshi, then snapping to recent ones: the bathroom embrace, Xiao Zhen drunk and begging for a hug, the fleeting heat of her earlobe that night.

Li Yunli had no idea what had gotten into her. Perhaps it was because Ji Zhenshi hadn’t dropped by the shop since graduating, not even once as fall deepened.

Their only encounter had been that time Li Yunli tidied her apartment.

Rubbing her temples, she sank into Ji Zhenshi’s usual window seat. The tablet on the table played the practice video Ji Zhenshi had sent.

Through the glass wall of the vast practice room, a long-haired woman in glasses sat beside her the whole time, head bent over a notebook jotting notes, glancing up at Ji Zhenshi now and then.

Was this their daily routine, side by side?

Teacher Tang, the one boosting Xiao Zhen’s career.

“I prefer women. Boys? No thanks. Even with twenty minutes between senior-year classes, they’d squeeze in a quick basketball game and come back reeking. I don’t get it, but hey, their thing. Good thing top scores let you pick seats first—I always chose far away.”

“No dating, Sister A-Yun, you’re overthinking. Clubs? Barely any time. No room for romance. Priorities: school, then violin. Don’t envy them. And university? Not like missing out on dating is a tragedy.”

“Just graduated—career comes first. But yeah, I’d love to date if the chance pops up. Not pushing it, though. Gotta chase my dream; every step takes grind. So relax, Sister A-Yun. I got this.”

Those snippets of youth, Ji Zhenshi’s replies to their scant heart-to-hearts, swirled in Li Yunli’s head. She rarely pried into her love life, so every answer stuck.

Pieced together, Ji Zhenshi’s stance had clearly evolved.

Happy to date given the opportunity. But what exactly counted as one?

It probably wouldn’t be long now. Performing more, meeting all sorts—she’d run into her ideal match eventually.

What kind of woman would Xiao Zhen go for?

Puzzled, Li Yunli reflected that the girl was twenty-two now, prime dating age. So striking, with that magnetic spark—if she wanted to, suitors would line up fast.

No!

Didn’t she have violin to master?

Her grip tightened on the cup until the veins stood out blue on her pale hand. Unable to quell the surge, Li Yunli chalked it up to self-delusion: the pang from Xiao Zhen always clinging to her before, now too busy to meet.

Why this sharp twinge of sourness?

She pressed a hand to her dull-aching heart, awareness dawning. Subconsciously, she shoved it down.

But no excuse washed it away.

Li Yunli craved updates on Ji Zhenshi’s life, fretted over every detail. Their sole remaining tie? Probably that apartment.

A familiar melody chimed in her ear. Li Yunli glanced over, realizing she’d unconsciously queued up the video she’d secretly shot of Ji Zhenshi at the piano on graduation photo day.

“Store Manager, you into this too?” No customers around, Xiao Ning lounged at the counter scrolling her phone when the tune synced with Li Yunli’s tablet.

Eyes lighting up at the coincidence, Xiao Ning said, “Figured you weren’t into video scrolling. This track’s everywhere right now.”

“I don’t scroll videos, just poking around. Why ‘too’?” Li Yunli eyed her curiously, pausing the tablet on instinct and regretting the lack of headphones amid her immersion.

Hope she hadn’t seemed too off.

Too distant to read the notebook, Xiao Ning scooted closer and spotted Ji Zhenshi in the video. “Oh, not scrolling then. Hey—isn’t that Student Xiao Ji? Piano too? She’s full of surprises.”

“Mm.” Li Yunli closed the tablet smoothly and lowered her gaze.

“Xiao Ji’s right on trend with this one—got a crush or something?” Xiao Ning remarked idly, pulling back.

Li Yunli’s head snapped up, staring in confusion.

Playing this meant crushing on someone?

Pinned by the look, Xiao Ning shivered and scratched her head. “What, no? It’s blowing up online as a confession song—an English track, but the piano cover’s the hit. One blogger played it, and boom, viral. Internet’s wild; tunes flare up and fizzle fast.”

“Confession song” echoed in Li Yunli’s ears. She caught Xiao Ning’s hand and scribbled rapidly on her notebook. “I’ve heard it. Xiao Zhen played this three months back—wasn’t it viral then?”

Coincidence, then?

Even so, Li Yunli’s cheeks warmed inexplicably.

“Nah, two or three months ago? Ancient history. That clip exploded last week. Xiao Ji probably never saw it coming.” Xiao Ning answered straight.

Li Yunli froze, nails biting into her palm. No heart to reply.

Indescribable—just stifling.

Relief mingled with joylessness, a vague sense of loss.

No response from Li Yunli, so Xiao Ning piped up. “Oh, speaking of Xiao Ji, it’s been ages. Post-grad grind, huh? Her Moments are all practice vids—bet she’s slim as a whip now.”

Would Xiao Zhen slim down? More exhausted these days?

Li Yunli mulled it over silently for ages, then pocketed her phone and scribbled on a sticky note: “Xiao Ning, watch the shop. Heading out.”

Back at the apartment, everything gleamed cleaner—shared spaces and Ji Zhenshi’s bedroom alike.

Keeping it spotless in case of drop-ins like last time, no doubt.

Xiao Zhen had always been such a thoughtful sweetheart.

After a quick tidy, Li Yunli headed to the kitchen to fix dinner.

Ji Zhenshi had mentioned Xia Siyuan tagging along with her agent for gigs, leaving her solo for days. She’d confirmed coming back tonight, so Li Yunli prepped portions for two.

She stocked the fridge with fresh fruits and veggies from the market, then settled at the table to wait.

She snapped a photo of the spread and sent it. “Xiao Zhen, dinner when you get back.”

It was late when Ji Zhenshi shouldered the door open, fresh off an impromptu dinner with Teacher Tang and violin industry seniors.

Bag dangling from one hand, she stood in the living room, mind foggy for several beats.

Prolonged focus had left her hazy; she blinked hard to confirm Li Yunli at the table.

Smacking her forehead, she remembered—Li Yunli had texted she was here.

So much on her plate, details slipped.

“Sister A-Yun, that sleepy?” Ji Zhenshi murmured under her breath, not aiming to rouse her.

She chucked her backpack onto the sofa and dragged out the chair beside Li Yunli, gazing quietly at her sound asleep with head pillowed on the table.

Was Li Yunli wiped out?

Truth was, Ji Zhenshi felt bone-tired herself. Her aching body slumped against the chairback for support, limp hands at her sides as she tipped her head to the ceiling.

The table groaned with Li Yunli’s handiwork, waiting just for her homecoming.

Damn. How was she supposed to handle the emptiness in her absence?

It always left her deflated.

If it could stay like this forever… perfection.

Fat chance, though. Rarest thing in the world: wishes granted.

Li Yunli’s sleeping face was perfection. Unable to resist, Ji Zhenshi reached out, fingertip brushing her nose tip as a blissful smile curved her lips.

Her sister was stunning—a gentle beauty that seeped silently into one’s bones, impossible to tear away from.

Moving with care, Ji Zhenshi’s finger trailed from nose tip along the bridge, tracing the elegant lines as she drank her in, eyes brimming with unspoken love. “So pretty, Sister A-Yun.”

No greedier touches; reluctantly, she withdrew her hand and mirrored Li Yunli, laying her head down.

Warm breaths mingled, each other’s scents weaving into their skin. Ji Zhenshi closed her eyes and smiled to herself.

Maybe the mood was too idyllic, or the scene too dreamlike.

Exhaustion shattered Ji Zhenshi’s restraint. Love overflowed; she leaned in and brushed her lips against that moonlight.

A featherlight kiss to the corner of her mouth—one to erase six years of hidden longing.

Greedy? Addicted, more like. Addicted to Li Yunli.

With Ji Tingjun even nominally out of the picture, why not her?

It was over in a touch—barely a kiss, just a girl’s shy graze, pure as a mirage.

“I like you,” Ji Zhenshi whispered, her heart thundering to the brink of breathlessness.