Chapter 40: You Want to Cut All Ties with Me?

Li Yunli seemed to have no objections. She rose to her feet, slung her bag over her shoulder, and gestured briefly to Zhang Fenglan before turning away.

“Let’s go,” Ji Zhenshi said, stepping back against the wall to give Li Yunli room.

Li Yunli pursed her lips tightly, as though she had a thousand words on the tip of her tongue. In the end, however, she merely gave Ji Zhenshi a deep, lingering look before striding ahead on her own.

It had been a long time since the two had walked together like this, keeping half a meter between them as they made their way down the corridor, one behind the other. Ji Zhenshi shoved her hands into her pockets and deliberately slowed her pace to linger at the rear, quietly admiring the slender, graceful figure ahead. Without her high heels, Li Yunli had switched to a pair of white Martin boots, which lent a light, springy bounce to her steps.

Li Yunli, would you be happy if I kept this distance from you forever?

“That day when I hit you, I’m sorry. It was a moment of impulse.” While they waited for the elevator, Li Yunli finally seized the chance to communicate with Ji Zhenshi.

Ji Zhenshi paused for a beat before shrugging it off with indifference. “No big deal. It didn’t even hurt. I shouldn’t have put you in that position. Sorry.”

Truth be told, her bitten tongue had probably tormented Li Yunli far more. It had kept her from enjoying flavorful food for half a month, forcing her to subsist mostly on plain congee through those long, tasteless days.

Ji Zhenshi had suffered terribly during that time. In a sense, the cost of kissing Li Yunli had been steep indeed.

“Xiao Zhen, you didn’t put me in a tough spot.” Li Yunli’s body went rigid. She felt utterly unaccustomed to this aloof version of Ji Zhenshi—so distant, impossibly out of reach, no matter how far she stretched.

How had things turned out like this?

“It’s fine. I understand. Sister A-Yun, you had your reasons. Oh, right—Grandma’s hospital bills. That was you who paid them, wasn’t it? I just transferred the money to your bank card. I’ve got income now, so take it. Your money doesn’t grow on trees, after all.”

Ji Zhenshi offered a faint smile.

See that, Li Yunli? I can hold up my own sky.

Once, their arguments had blazed with such ferocity. Now, upon reuniting, everything felt eerily serene, as if none of it had ever happened.

Yet both of them knew the truth: nothing was the same.

To Li Yunli’s ears, Ji Zhenshi’s words sounded like a declaration of severance. Her nails dug viciously into her palm as she stood there in a daze for what felt like ages, her face paling to ashen. Bitterness roiled relentlessly in her chest.

“You’re trying to cut all ties with me, aren’t you?”

She wanted to settle every debt, hand over every last cent, and wipe the slate clean between them. No obligations left on either side.

How could she? How could Xiao Zhen do this?

Was she truly about to lose Xiao Zhen?

Ji Zhenshi frowned lightly, struck by an inexplicable sense of pity for Li Yunli in that moment. It was as if she were pleading, “Are you abandoning me?”

Gazing at her, Ji Zhenshi curved her lips in helpless amusement. “What I owe Sister A-Yun could never be repaid, not in full. So I’ve never even considered trying.”

Ji Zhenshi owed Li Yunli too much—far too much to tally. If she truly tried to make amends, it might take a lifetime.

Besides, Ji Zhenshi longed for an unbreakable bond with Li Yunli. The very idea of cutting ties was absurd.

The elevator dinged as it reached the first floor. This time, Ji Zhenshi took the lead, hands casually tucked in her pockets as she strode out with cool confidence. “If you set this precedent now, my mom will exploit your sympathy every time. Endless demands. You know better than I do how mercenary she can be. You had no obligation to do any of this. She can’t treat you like that—it’s my responsibility to bear. After all, I’m not a kid anymore.”

I’ll really grow up, Li Yunli. Believe in me, okay?

Ji Zhenshi spoke slowly, enunciating each word clearly to explain herself to Li Yunli.

This was a far cry from the heartbroken, desperate Xiao Zhen she’d confronted in the coffee shop two months prior. Now, she seemed steadier, more mature—their exchanges carrying the detached air of a business transaction.

But maturity in Xiao Zhen wasn’t what Li Yunli wanted.

She found herself oddly contradictory. When Ji Zhenshi had clung to her childish ways, she’d urged her to grow up. Now that she had, Li Yunli felt alienated by this stranger wearing her face.

She was asking too much.

“I won’t let her exploit me. I did it willingly. Grandma has been so kind to me. I’ve never known my own grandmother, so I’ve come to see her as my own.” Li Yunli tried to explain.

Li Yunli saw through the manipulations plain as day, but she’d gone along with them of her own volition.

There was another reason, too. Anyone Xiao Zhen cared for, she’d hold dear as well.

Love begets love.

“Oh.” Ji Zhenshi uttered the syllable and fell silent.

She wouldn’t give Yang Ying any opening to demand money from Li Yunli under any pretext. And she’d work hard to grow strong, so Li Yunli’s father would stop harassing her.

“Xiao Zhen, lately you’ve…” Li Yunli wanted to say more, but Ji Zhenshi was already staring down at her phone, oblivious to the sign language. She walked briskly ahead, paying no heed to the woman behind her.

The sparkle in Li Yunli’s eyes dimmed. She longed to ask how Ji Zhenshi had been faring—whether the competitions and performances had gone smoothly, if the company had given her trouble. So many questions burned inside her.

But Xiao Zhen was so cold now. She must have been truly hurt.

Li Yunli regretted that slap a thousand times over. It felt like that single strike had shattered everything between them.

So distant. Xiao Zhen felt like a stranger.

After they’d walked some distance, Ji Zhenshi finally looked up from her phone. “Let’s hit the hospital cafeteria. The eateries around here aren’t very hygienic, but I hear the one attached to the hospital is decent.”

As she spoke, she glanced back and realized Li Yunli was right beside her—so close.

Her sudden turn nearly caused a collision.

“Oh, sorry!” Ji Zhenshi quickly pulled back, apologizing on instinct.

“No problem.” Li Yunli managed a gentle smile, though the stiffness in her expression betrayed the ache in her heart.

The air grew awkward. Ji Zhenshi scratched her head and ventured, “Cafeteria it is, then. It’s cold outside anyway, and we won’t even have to leave the hospital.”

Li Yunli had no objections, of course. She nodded faintly and followed along.

The hospital cafeteria was spacious, but with mealtime past, only a sparse scattering of people remained inside.

Ji Zhenshi grabbed a simple tray of her favorites. After setting it on the table, she detoured to the vending machine for two bottles of hot purified water.

“Eating so little, Sister A-Yun?” As she had countless times before, she unscrewed the cap, poured the water into Li Yunli’s thermos, and handed it over—remembering that these days marked her period.

In that instant of eye contact, Ji Zhenshi registered their strained dynamic. Without a fuss, she withdrew the thermos and slid the other bottle of hot water toward Li Yunli instead.

Li Yunli noticed the subtle gesture, of course. She pressed her lips together. “I’m not that hungry. Lunch was late.”

“Oh.”

Ji Zhenshi was ravenous, it seemed. She devoured her first bowl in three quick bites, then got up for seconds.

Li Yunli barely touched her food, spending most of the time watching Ji Zhenshi eat.

Still such a picky eater—skipping veggies in favor of plain rice.

She placed a few pieces of braised pork into Ji Zhenshi’s bowl. “Being picky leads to stomachaches. Eat a balanced diet.”

Ji Zhenshi froze, her mouth stuffed with rice as she stared blankly at Li Yunli. “I haven’t had a stomachache in ages. Teacher Tang keeps a strict schedule—three balanced meals a day.”

Tang Xien’s world seemed devoid of snacks. Ji Zhenshi had never seen her indulge, sticking solely to meals at set times and even drinking only a specific brand of purified water. No milk tea or fizzy drinks for her.

Such discipline.

She forbade junk food in the practice or recording studios, forcing Ji Zhenshi to eat until full each time—only to starve like a ghoul until the next mealtime.

Following Tang Xien felt like prison routine to Ji Zhenshi. Hot pot and skewers were distant memories.

“Does she cook?” Li Yunli’s question came abruptly. Even she paused after signing it, taken aback by herself.

She dropped her hands sheepishly, a touch embarrassed. Why had she asked that?

“I was just curious. Miss Tang doesn’t strike me as the kitchen type.”

Ji Zhenshi raised a brow, puzzled by the assumption, but shrugged it off. “No idea. She doesn’t cook in front of me. We order takeout—hers is just fancier and more nutritious. She does have that otherworldly vibe, though. Cool, elegant, and utterly aloof.”

Someone like Tang Xien, the intellectual type, probably didn’t cook.

Not that it mattered to Ji Zhenshi. She doubted she’d ever taste a home-cooked meal from her anyway.

Tang Xien kept work and personal life strictly separate; Ji Zhenshi had no glimpse of her domestic side.

“You two get along well?” Li Yunli added another piece of braised pork to Ji Zhenshi’s bowl. Even as she chided her pickiness, she piled on the favorites.

Ji Zhenshi accepted it all without protest. “Pretty good. I’ve met a lot of industry seniors through her.”

A vague response. Li Yunli had hoped for more.

After a pause with no elaboration, Ji Zhenshi set down her chopsticks and sipped her water through the straw, draping one long arm casually over the neighboring chair in relaxed contentment.

Satiated and adorable, Ji Zhenshi was utterly lovable—like a puppy with a wagging tail.

“Xiao Zhen, you really don’t resent me?” Heart elsewhere, Li Yunli waited until Ji Zhenshi finished before signing the question.

Today’s Ji Zhenshi felt like a stranger. It pricked at Li Yunli’s heart like needles; she couldn’t adapt to this mode of interaction. An inexplicable oppression hung between them, the atmosphere thick with awkwardness.

Calm. Stagnant as a dead pond.

Could they never go back?

Or had two months dulled Ji Zhenshi’s feelings?

At her age—barely into her twenties—pride ran deep. A slap like that was humiliating. Of course she’d pull away.

“Hm? What?” Ji Zhenshi’s expression blanked for a split second as her mind caught up.

She halted mid-sip, nearly choking herself. “No, I should be the one apologizing. Why would I resent you? I was the one who got too worked up that day, saying things I shouldn’t have. I just hope Sister A-Yun doesn’t hold it against me.”

If not for her forcing that kiss, Li Yunli never would have struck out.

She’d taken advantage of Li Yunli’s muteness, ignoring her wishes.

“I’m sorry, Sister A-Yun. I hope you won’t take it to heart. Liking you might seem absurd, but I meant every word—no joke.”

Solemnity creased Ji Zhenshi’s features as she apologized in earnest.

Li Yunli frowned faintly and fell silent for a long while.

Xiao Zhen…

Even as Ji Zhenshi apologized so sincerely, Li Yunli felt a boulder crushing her chest, stealing her breath.

Everything had changed. They couldn’t go back.

Ji Zhenshi continued, “Maybe if I grow up a bit more, you wouldn’t reject me?”

A smile bloomed on her lips. “Would you believe then that true devotion has nothing to do with age?”

The two questions landed Li Yunli in an awkward spot once more.

But Ji Zhenshi wouldn’t press her. She held Li Yunli’s gaze for a few steady seconds, reading the turmoil there, then smiled softly. Gathering their trays, she stood. “Come on. We can’t leave Grandma alone in the room too long.”

Predictable enough. Would Li Yunli make empty promises?

The one who’d coldly barred her from the coffee shop.

Half-joking, half-serious—only Ji Zhenshi knew how deeply she meant it.

“Tonight, my parents won’t be coming, so I’ll stay with Grandma. You’ve been with her all day—you must be exhausted. Head home and rest early.”

Ji Zhenshi knew that if she didn’t stay, Li Yunli would.

The hospital’s companion bed was uncomfortable; better for Li Yunli to rest properly at home.

Truthfully, Li Yunli owed the Ji family nothing. Ji Tingjun had taken her two hundred thousand, after all. And while Grandma doted on her, it was only companionship and care—no real aid.

Li Yunli was too grateful by nature, cherishing every kindness and repaying it tenfold.

“Mm.” Li Yunli said nothing more.

Silence settled between them anew until Ji Zhenshi’s phone shattered it moments later.

She answered as they walked. “Teacher Tang? What’s up?”

“It’s mine. I must not have zipped it properly—it fell out.”

“Oh, got it. I’ll come down and grab it.”

“No need to come up. It’s not a great spot anyway. Give me five minutes; I’ll head down.”

They reached the ward door just as Ji Zhenshi hung up. She turned to Li Yunli. “You go in first.”

With that, she spun on her heel and dashed down the stairs. Li Yunli watched her retreating back.

So many times, that figure had run toward her.

This time, it fled in the opposite direction.

She was leaving her.

Tang Xien. Lately, her name cropped up around Ji Zhenshi far too often.

Recalling the snippets Li Yunli had found online, her grip loosened on the door handle. Her fine brows knitted; in the end, she couldn’t resist stepping out into the corridor.

From the glass wall on the other side, she had a clear view of the hospital entrance. The inpatient floors weren’t high up, and there—plain as day—she watched that familiar silhouette race toward Tang Xien, who waited by her car.

The corridor’s lights burned bright, yet Li Yunli felt plunged into shadow.

She stood there, watching the girl run to someone else.

Xiao Zhen… it hurts so much.

Ji Zhenshi’s hair was tied in a high ponytail bursting with youthful energy today. She wore slim black jeans and a short-sleeved shirt topped with a black puffer jacket.

In a rush, even spotting Tang Xien at the entrance didn’t slow her. She waved her phone overhead, jogging right up before halting. Tang Xien handed her something.

Too far to discern Tang Xien’s expression clearly, Li Yunli could only make out the smile on Ji Zhenshi’s face. Tang Xien simply watched her—a sight that stabbed at Li Yunli’s heart.

Tang Xien was beautiful, yes, but more than that, she exuded poise and refinement, an aura of elegant nobility.

The kind of big-sister type young people adored these days?

The stifling vibe with Ji Zhenshi today flooded back. Pain twisted across Li Yunli’s gentle features. She bit her lip hard, eyes stinging with heat.

But she’d been the one to reject Xiao Zhen, to wound her with cruel words.

What right did Li Yunli have to jealousy? None.

She merely watched from afar as Xiao Zhen ran to someone better, tears welling gradually in her eyes. Helplessness crashed over her, suffocating.

Fine, then. If not Tang Xien, it would be someone else.