Ji Zhenshi still had work to do, so after she finished eating with Grandma, Li Yunli drove her back to the company.
“Sister A-Yun, I’m heading out.”
“Okay.”
“If you miss me, can you call?”
“If Xiao Zhen wants to, of course you can.”
Li Yunli watched as Ji Zhenshi strode ahead with light, energetic steps. Out of habit, she had pulled on a hat as she walked alone, her hands tucked into her pockets. Her tall, slender figure was so striking that even her back view drew the eye.
The hoodie was oversized, and whenever Ji Zhenshi glanced back, Li Yunli could barely make out her profile. She could only sense the cheerfulness in those quick steps.
A smile played at Li Yunli’s lips. She watched until Ji Zhenshi disappeared through the company doors before finally looking down to open the chat that she had avoided for so long. After confirming their meeting time, she started the car and drove away unhurriedly.
For Li Yunli, every previous round of psychological counseling had ended in failure because she could never fully open her heart to a stranger. She was unwilling to expose her vulnerabilities, yet desperately wanted to regain her health.
That constant disappointment, that inner conflict, had once led her to abandon therapy—and the medication her doctor had prescribed.
Thinking of Ji Zhenshi gave Li Yunli a fresh spark of courage to face her past.
She had to take responsibility for her own life—for Ji Zhenshi’s sake too.
With her mental preparations in place, Li Yunli stepped into the building once more.
There had been an issue with deliveries at the coffee shop that morning, so by the time Li Yunli arrived at the hospital, it was nearly time for her appointment. Unfortunately, the elevator was under maintenance.
She checked her watch. She hated to be late. The fifth floor wasn’t that high up, so she decided to take the stairs and headed toward the stairwell.
As she climbed, she replied to Ji Zhenshi’s messages.
—Sister A-Yun, my breakfast.
The photo showed a simple breakfast alongside a selfie of Ji Zhenshi holding a youtiao, pulling a goofy face that was utterly adorable.
These past few days, Ji Zhenshi had been sharing every little detail of her life, no matter how minor. The chat that had once gone months without a single message now buzzed with unread notifications every day.
It was as if those months of cold war had never happened. They were as close as ever—closer, even.
Li Yunli smiled softly as she zoomed in on the photo, confirmed that the breakfast was reasonably healthy, saved the picture, and typed back.
—Eating breakfast this late? Overslept again?
—No way! Teacher Tang had something come up, so no lesson today. Nothing else on, so I slept in.
Every message from Ji Zhenshi came with a cute, goofy emoji that perfectly captured her expression, even though they weren’t face-to-face.
—Oh, so you’re a lazybones who slept in again.
—Nuh-uh! Stealing half a day of leisure for once—finally a chance to rest. Sister A-Yun, are you at the coffee shop today? I miss you.
Ji Zhenshi was probably hinting that she wanted to drop by the coffee shop.
Li Yunli’s gaze lingered on those last three words, her smile deepening slowly. She paused for a couple of seconds, a faint blush tinting her ears.
Xiao Zhen’s straightforward sweet nothings always made her cheeks heat up.
She never held back her affection, always saying it boldly and without reservation.
Keeping an eye on her footing, Li Yunli’s fingers flew across the screen.
—I’m not at the coffee shop today—out running an errand. You’ve finally got a day off, so rest up at home or hang out with friends.
—But I want to go on a date with you today. When will you be done? I can come pick you up.
—Good child, be obedient.
—…Fine.
Li Yunli gazed at the sulky little-dog emoji at the end, suddenly realizing she had found Ji Zhenshi’s weakness. A simple “good child” and she turned obedient on the spot.
Xiao Zhen, if only I could call you that out loud.
Li Yunli pocketed her phone, a surge of determination welling up inexplicably. She wanted to recover her health.
She had almost forgotten what her own voice sounded like.
The fifth floor wasn’t far, and chatting with Ji Zhenshi had gotten her there in no time.
That conversation had eased the tension in her nerves a little. Taking a deep breath, Li Yunli quickened her pace.
But as she reached the fifth-floor landing, a faint whiff of cigarette smoke hit her. The smell grew stronger the closer she got, until it was impossible to ignore.
Frowning slightly, Li Yunli couldn’t help glancing toward the person leaning against the wall, smoking.
This was a no-smoking area. How could someone smoke here, with cameras everywhere and no one to warn them?
She had assumed it was some heavy-smoking man, but a quick glance revealed an elegantly beautiful woman. She held the cigarette delicately between long, graceful fingers, leaning casually against the wall with her eyes lowered, exuding an unapproachable aura. Yet somehow, she even made smoking look refined.
Through the haze of smoke, Li Yunli felt the profile looked familiar.
Her mind flashed to the woman who had appeared alongside Ji Zhenshi in photos almost daily these past months—the Teacher Tang that Ji Zhenshi had just mentioned. Tang Xien.
Before, Li Yunli might not have even heard the name, let alone recognized the face. But ever since she became Ji Zhenshi’s teacher, her features had become familiar from all those pictures.
She always stood behind Ji Zhenshi, her stunning, aloof face tucked away unobtrusively, her deep gaze fixed on her student.
Li Yunli’s steps faltered. She couldn’t move.
Then she spotted the medical record card in the woman’s hand—the same as her own. She froze.
This was a private psychological clinic; everyone here had mental health issues…
Li Yunli had seen her lofty, untouchable demeanor, but she never would have imagined this elegant virtuoso violinist had such a side.
What psychological issues did Tang Xien have?
Frowning, she had meant to head straight in, but after a second’s hesitation, she wrote on her notepad: “Miss, this is a no-smoking area. If you’re caught, you’ll be fined. If you want to smoke, there’s a designated area at the end of the hall over there, with seats.”
Lost in her own world, Tang Xien slowly raised her eyes. She didn’t recognize the woman in front of her, but the way she was communicating…
She’s mute, isn’t she?
“Sorry, I’m not familiar with the rules here. Thanks for the heads-up.” Tang Xien stubbed out the cigarette, waved away the smoke, and coughed lightly into her hand.
Her manner was offhand—polite, but clearly dismissing the stranger’s well-meaning advice.
“You’re welcome.”
She wrote the response on her notepad again.
Tang Xien couldn’t help glancing sideways, just meaning to glimpse the words. But her sharp eyes caught the name on the medical record card peeking from the notepad.
Li Yunli. A very familiar name.
Not a common one at all—unlikely to have an exact match in the same city.
Looking closer, she really did resemble the woman in Ji Zhenshi’s phone wallpaper. Could it be the same person?
What was her relationship to Ji Zhenshi?
But Tang Xien had no intention of saying more. She offered a courteous, distant smile and watched Li Yunli go.
Li Yunli didn’t linger. After her brief reminder, she turned and left.
She was a bit suspicious about Tang Xien being here—and smoking alone in the stairwell like that. She seemed to carry a story all her own.
So Teacher Tang had canceled Ji Zhenshi’s lesson today to see the psychologist?
Li Yunli knocked and entered the consultation room.
Her therapist was Lin Qi, a friendly woman in her forties who handled their sessions with gentle pacing—unfolding issues step by step, always respectful, never intrusive.
There was nothing wrong with the doctor; she was highly professional.
The problem was Li Yunli herself. Even choosing this expensive private clinic for privacy’s sake, she still couldn’t confront the abyss of her past.
For a teenager, watching her mother resolutely abandon her had been devastating. In her immaturity, she had even blamed her mother. She couldn’t understand why her own child wasn’t enough—why she would leave her daughter alone in the world to suffer her father’s torment.
But later, she realized she had no right to hold her mother hostage with her childish needs.
Her mother’s life had been one of unrelenting misfortune, the suffering unimaginable. She couldn’t demand anything of her. Her mother was a person first, a mother second.
Leaving had been her salvation. Li Yunli wished her well in escaping that abyss.
She had wanted to follow her at the time. But even after striving to study and live well, her father’s shadow had driven her to despair—until she met someone.
Her name was Ji Zhenshi, the one who had pulled her from the flames.
“Miss Li, good to see you again. You look well today. Please, have a seat.” Lin Qi took Li Yunli’s medical record card and slotted it into the reader. All of her personal details appeared on the screen.
Li Yunli, female, 28 years old, unmarried, no children. Childhood trauma led to stress-induced mutism; voiceless for seventeen years, with significant vocal cord atrophy but normal hearing. Medications ineffective; no functional damage identified. History of mild depression and suicidal ideation, now resolved.
“Sorry, Doctor Lin. I might be a few minutes late—ran into a little trouble that delayed me. I hope you don’t mind.” Li Yunli smiled apologetically, explaining her tardiness first.
Lin Qi skimmed the screen, pulled out a folder, and opened it. Her voice was calm and even. “No problem at all, Miss Li. I set aside the whole morning for you, and I’ve only just arrived myself. Please sit. There’s some light tea here if you’d like any during our session.”
“Thank you.” Li Yunli sat across from Lin Qi. Unlike a typical hospital visit with a desk between them, they faced each other directly. The setup shortened the physical distance, removed visual barriers, and helped the patient relax and trust more easily.
Lin Qi started with small talk. “It’s been a while. You’re as lovely as ever, Miss Li. How have things been?”
Li Yunli wasn’t the sort of stunning beauty that turned heads at first glance. Her features were delicately balanced, her brows clear and refined, her presence gentle as jade. A brief chat revealed her innate warmth.
More memorable than her looks was her soft, tender personality.
It was hard to imagine what darkness her childhood had held for someone like her to endure depression and suicidal thoughts—yet emerge so resilient.
Some people were simply the embodiment of gentleness.
“Pretty good, same as always. Life revolves around the coffee shop mostly, though I do take some classes now and then.” Li Yunli replied, a flicker of evasion in her eyes.
It wasn’t the same anymore. Her life had changed dramatically.
She was in love—with Xiao Zhen.
Lin Qi caught the subtle shift in expression and smiled faintly, unperturbed. She pivoted smoothly. “So, Miss Li, are you ready to share those painful memories you can’t forget?”
Li Yunli had always withheld the specifics. Lin Qi knew her defenses were strong; she hadn’t truly bared her fragility.
Li Yunli lowered her gaze, her fingertips twisting together. Instead of answering, she asked, “If I can face that past event without flinching, will I be able to speak again?”
Lin Qi raised an eyebrow slightly, considering for a moment before explaining. “Based on what you’ve described and the treatment recommendations from your doctors, I believe your mutism stems primarily from psychological factors. Confronting your trauma offers a high chance of recovery—but only a chance. No doctor can guarantee that facing the past will restore your voice fully.”
She paused, then smiled. “After all our sessions, this is the first time I’ve sensed such urgency from you, Miss Li. I’m curious—what brought this on?”
Li Yunli had always come proactively for therapy, but Lin Qi had never felt this burning desire to regain her voice. This could be the turning point to overcoming her barriers.
Li Yunli’s brows furrowed in quiet disappointment, but she kept her faint smile. “Something like a turning point. A milestone worth remembering.”
“Looks like good news. Mind sharing?”
“…”
Li Yunli fell silent. Surely this had nothing to do with her psychological blocks?
She wasn’t one to share her inner world easily—not even with her therapist. She hesitated.
Lin Qi tilted her chin slightly, not pressing. Instead, she played some soft music, its soothing melody filling the space between them, as if the world had hushed.
She crossed her legs, pen hovering without writing. Li Yunli’s psychological walls were formidable; Lin Qi could never quite reach the core obstacle, so progress stalled.
After a moment of silence, as the piece ended, Lin Qi spoke softly. “Miss Li, I must remind you again: I’m your therapist. We have a confidentiality agreement. Everything you share stays in this room. You came to me because you want to heal. But if you can’t trust me completely, no amount of expertise will help.”
With no progress, Lin Qi had even wondered if Li Yunli was on the verge of giving up.
Li Yunli pressed her lips together. “Sorry, Doctor Lin. If it helps my treatment… I’ve recently had something that made me very happy.”
“Mm. If I’m not mistaken, something to do with romance?”
Li Yunli’s life was simple. For someone like her, genuine joy usually meant matters of the heart.
Li Yunli nodded slightly, a smile blooming in her eyes unbidden. “I’m in love. With Xiao Zhen.”
To her, that was milestone enough.
She had once thought she’d never fall in love—couldn’t imagine it, didn’t believe she could handle the responsibility.
But if it was Ji Zhenshi… somehow, it all made perfect sense.
