Chapter 90: Still No Moon Tonight

“You all should be happy about this,” Ji Zhenshi said, forcing a desolate smile onto her face. “My six years of careful, secret crush turned into a joke. Didn’t I do everything I promised? I worked so hard, so steadfastly upholding this relationship. I shouldered all the pressure, believing that every problem could be solved. But no one gave me time. No one!”

When Ji Zhenshi had begged to be with Li Yunli, she had fulfilled every single promise she made. She never backed down. She gave it her all.

But Ji Zhenshi had no idea that although Li Yunli had never made her any promises, the efforts she had put in were no less than Ji Zhenshi’s own.

“Xiao Zhen, how can you say your secret crush was a joke?” Li Yunli’s eyes brimmed with hot tears, her usually gentle features now clouded with sorrow.

If Ji Zhenshi’s feelings were a joke, then where did that leave Li Yunli?

Ji Zhenshi shrugged, her smile turning even more desolate. “I am the joke. Isn’t that what I am right now?”

Kneeling on the ground in aggrieved misery, she pulled out her chat history in exhaustive detail—dozens of messages starting with pleas to talk things over, escalating to begging, and finally descending into despair.

Li Yunli hadn’t replied to a single one. She had left her hanging for days.

It was too cruel. Truly too cruel.

Ji Zhenshi braced her hands against the floor, her tears splattering onto the screen. Her voice choked with sobs, but not the coquettish kind from before—this was raw, desperate pain. “You didn’t want me to make a choice, so you made it for me. But you never even asked what I wanted. You always think you’re doing what’s best for me. Is leaving me really for my own good? How ridiculous. I begged you so humbly, just give me some time. I can’t get away from work, I have to deal with my mom—why won’t you give me a chance to breathe?”

Li Yunli clenched her fists. In the end, she only pursed her lips and helped the kneeling Ji Zhenshi to her feet. Even in her fury, she didn’t forget to scoop the ring out of the wineglass.

She couldn’t let her feelings end up like this.

She turned a cold gaze on Ye Wuzhi, still on the floor. “You still have some sense left. I advise you to call someone to come pick you up and get you out of here. This room is number 319.”

With that, Li Yunli bent down and hoisted Ji Zhenshi onto her back.

Ji Zhenshi’s arms hung limply in front of Li Yunli’s chest, her lips still mumbling unconsciously. “Why won’t you give me a little time? Why?”

Li Yunli fought back her tears and glanced sideways at the drunken Ji Zhenshi.

She had stopped crying. She just kept her head down, murmuring to herself.

Her Xiao Zhen had gotten drunk and stopped crying. She was growing up. Truly growing up.

But in such a painful way.

I’m sorry, Xiao Zhen. Many things can’t be changed with just time.

And right now, your career needs time more than anything. You have to hold onto at least something. You can’t end up with nothing.

The choice was too hard. You couldn’t make it, so I’ll do it for you.

Ji Zhenshi received no response, and even if she had, she wouldn’t have reacted. She was still consumed by guilt over blurting out the breakup in her panic. “I’m sorry. I said we should break up, but I really had no choice. I didn’t want to. I really didn’t.”

Carrying Ji Zhenshi on her back wasn’t easy for Li Yunli—she was heavier than she looked. She took one step at a time, no one knowing how much effort those few short steps cost her, or the desolation in her heart.

“I love you, Li Yunli.” The words came out of nowhere. Ji Zhenshi’s eyes were closed, but she spoke them with solemn gravity.

Li Yunli’s steps halted abruptly. It hurt so much… so much…

Xiao Zhen, what if I just died right here, in this moment when you love me the most?

You have no idea. I hurt even more than you do.

She didn’t dare respond. They were pressed so close together, yet worlds apart.

Ji Zhenshi was very obedient the whole way, curled up in the back seat of the car with Li Yunli’s jacket draped over her.

The scent of Li Yunli seemed to soothe her. She hugged her knees, curling her tall frame into a tiny ball—a clear sign of deep insecurity.

Ji Zhenshi’s eyes were closed, but she wasn’t asleep. Her furrowed brow showed how uncomfortable she was, one hand clutching her stomach. Too much alcohol always caused stomach pain.

Li Yunli’s gaze immediately fell on the bloody mark around Ji Zhenshi’s ankle—the ruthless, forceful tear she had inflicted on herself.

Li Yunli’s fingertips hovered over the ankle, her heart aching terribly. She didn’t dare touch it, so she could only stare.

How wronged must Ji Zhenshi have felt in that moment to rip off the handmade bracelet like that? Li Yunli had woven it herself and knew how sturdy it was.

She had made it strong out of fear that Ji Zhenshi’s lively jumping around might dislodge it otherwise—not auspicious. But she never imagined it would become a tool to hurt her.

“So silly. Why not just cut it off?” Li Yunli said as she helped Ji Zhenshi sit up.

She didn’t blame Ji Zhenshi for tearing off the ankle bracelet. She only ached for the angry red mark it left.

Though she was angry and jealous, Li Yunli had never once thought of abandoning Ji Zhenshi.

Her first act was to change out of those clothes, wipe down Ji Zhenshi’s body, and dress her in comfortable sleepwear.

“Come here, drink some water.” Li Yunli poured a cup of honey water, pulled Ji Zhenshi up from the bed, and thoughtfully inserted a straw.

The most heartless part was not feeding it to her by hand—she made Ji Zhenshi hold the cup herself.

Li Yunli wasn’t without temper. Seeing Ji Zhenshi out getting wild like that filled her with anger and worry. She couldn’t ignore her, though, leaving her emotions tangled and her mood foul.

It was awful, stirring an inexplicable fear deep inside her.

Ji Zhenshi sat up obediently. After the drunken haze, her entire face and the base of her neck were flushed red. Her damp eyes gazed at Li Yunli. “Ye Wuzhi, your name is so unique. I read a novel once where you were the protagonist. I really liked that book. Shame the ending sucked. Dad dies, mom goes crazy, and you shatter. I suggest you change it—bad luck.”

Ji Zhenshi spoke so earnestly that for a moment, Li Yunli almost thought she wasn’t drunk at all.

Li Yunli stood by the bed, watching her quietly, her slender shoulders trembling faintly. She could no longer tell if it was from anger or heartache.

She just watched like this—the intimacy she had once hoped for in her heart. But now that Ji Zhenshi was truly getting close to another woman, Li Yunli realized she couldn’t stay calm.

She couldn’t accept Ji Zhenshi being intimate with someone else. It was like being steeped in a vat of sour dye.

“Do you like her?” Li Yunli finally couldn’t hold back the question.

Ji Zhenshi, who had been staring down at the floor, looked up with a foolish grin upon hearing that.

It was as expected. Ji Zhenshi smiled at her. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Li Yunli, this is what you wanted.

At a loss for words, Ji Zhenshi stood on the bed, looking down at Li Yunli unsteadily. She swayed as she spoke. “I’ll move out tomorrow.”

She had lived here so long—the bathroom held her toiletries, her clothes took up half the closet, her manuscripts cluttered the desk, her makeup covered the vanity. If she left, the place would feel so empty.

Li Yunli’s pale lips trembled for a moment before she grasped Ji Zhenshi’s wrist, gently turning her hand over to reveal the scabbed scar in her palm.

The scabbed line stood out starkly against the soft white skin, ruining the hand’s beauty.

Li Yunli’s fingertip traced the scar on her own, sending a faint itch and ripple through her.

“It must hurt so much. I’m still glad it wasn’t your left hand,” Li Yunli said softly, a choked sob audible if one listened closely.

She had always worried about the injury but hadn’t dared to ask.

That day, Ji Zhenshi hadn’t even taken her medicine when she left. Li Yunli didn’t know where she lived, so no matter how much she wanted to ask, she had to hold back.

She was such a failure. Every time Ji Zhenshi got hurt, it seemed to be because of her, yet she couldn’t even be there to accompany her.

“I’m moving out!” Ji Zhenshi yanked her hand back, venting the pent-up fury from days of unanswered messages.

Li Yunli could be heartless, so she could be heartless too.

Just like how she had brought up breaking up in front of Yang Ying, and Li Yunli had done the same.

Li Yunli’s long, delicate lashes quivered. She frowned slightly, staring at Ji Zhenshi for a few seconds. In the end, all she said was, “Xiao Zhen, get some rest.”

Ji Zhenshi pulled a self-mocking grimace, her knees buckling as she knelt directly in front of Li Yunli. “I don’t love you anymore. I really don’t.”

The atmosphere turned awkward for a heartbeat. Li Yunli’s face paled like frost.

After a long moment, Ji Zhenshi shook her head. “Forget it. I’m lying.”

She couldn’t fool herself. Ji Zhenshi would always love Li Yunli.

Good Child pulled back the covers and slipped inside on her own, curling into a ball again. She endured the queasy drift of drunkenness until sleep finally came.

Li Yunli stood by the bed, taking a deep breath, her body rigid. Only after a long while did she slowly tuck the covers around her and leave the room without a sound.

In the latter half of the night, a figure slipped quietly into the room.

The graceful shadow tiptoed to the bedside, gazing fondly at the sleeping woman for several minutes, eyes thick with reluctance.

Finally, she gently lifted the covers. A slender hand encircled the porcelain-white ankle, light as a feather.

Cool ointment was applied bit by bit to the wound, feather-light. Li Yunli was as careful as could be, fearing she’d wake Ji Zhenshi or cause her pain.

So silly. Truly so silly. Why hurt yourself like this?

She applied it in gentle circles, then softly tucked the covers back.

Squatting by Ji Zhenshi’s hand, Li Yunli applied more ointment to the now-scabbed wound.

But it was already scabbed over. She was too late with the medicine. Her care had come too late.

Desire welled up, and Li Yunli couldn’t restrain her emotions. She watched Good Child sleep without looking away for a moment.

Even drunk now, she wouldn’t cling and whimper for cuddles. She had truly grown up.

“It’s so hard to imagine life without Xiao Zhen,” Li Yunli murmured. Her index finger brushed lightly against Ji Zhenshi’s, the barest connection as if testing the depths of her heart.

They both knew the other’s heart held only them. That blind certainty came from every loving detail woven into their daily life. But that only made the pain sharper.

Ji Zhenshi let out an unconscious whimper. “Mm.”

So couldn’t they just not separate?

Li Yunli looked at the scar on Ji Zhenshi’s hand with heartache.

Without her there, Ji Zhenshi couldn’t take care of herself properly.

Xiao Zhen, without me, can you even live well? How am I supposed to bear leaving you?

A warm towel gently wiped her cheeks. Li Yunli watched her sleeping face, remembering the desperate roar at the bar. “Am I the only one who’s wronged here?”

“I’m always self-righteously thinking I’m doing what’s best for you, but doesn’t that include ‘for your good’?”

Ji Zhenshi always made things too simple. Her mother was one issue, but another was that being with her kept Ji Zhenshi on a short leash—she could never soar far.

Li Yunli knew she had become Ji Zhenshi’s uncertainty, disrupting so much. This time it was injury from clashing with Yang Ying—what unexpected mishap next time?

That’s why Li Yunli seized the chance perfectly, letting go completely so Ji Zhenshi could venture out and stand on her own.

She couldn’t be selfish. Ji Zhenshi’s stage wasn’t some tiny patch in front of her. Her life was the vast wilderness, the blue skies and seas.

Li Yunli loved Ji Zhenshi—a love that went beyond possession, becoming fulfillment.

Ji Zhenshi, you can’t understand me, can you?

Her heart overflowed with words she wanted to tell Ji Zhenshi, but when they reached her lips, all Li Yunli could say was, “Xiao Zhen, I’ll play the villain. I’ll wait for you. In a few years, when you’re strong enough to stand firm and won’t get hurt by pressures anymore, if you still like me then, I’ll hold your hand no matter what. My heart has always been waiting for you.”

Li Yunli didn’t want to break up. She kept saying they should separate temporarily.

Since she couldn’t convince her, she’d step back for now, letting Ji Zhenshi focus on what she loved.

Separation didn’t mean no love.

Li Yunli was willing to wait years for Ji Zhenshi at the prime of her life. She only wanted a Ji Zhenshi who was truly free—no pressures, no more hurts. Was she wrong?

From any angle, no one was wrong. Li Yunli could tolerate Ji Zhenshi’s resentment, but she couldn’t tolerate her undressing with another woman!

At that thought, Li Yunli pressed her lips together, her gentle tone tinged with helplessness. “But you can’t lash out at me like this. It really hurts my heart.”

She truly wanted to scold her. But the moment Ji Zhenshi took off the ring, the moment she hurled those reckless accusations, Li Yunli knew she had no right to jealousy anymore.

So, Ji Zhenshi truly couldn’t understand her.

Ji Zhenshi always had that brave sincerity. She had the courage to throw herself into the fray, bloody-headed. So she believed that as long as she gripped her hand, no difficulty was insurmountable.

That was the root of their divide.

A divide meant the prelude to parting.

Li Yunli’s movements as she wiped down Ji Zhenshi’s body were slow—deliberately so, fooling herself into thinking eternity could stretch from this. At least tonight belonged to her.

Later, Li Yunli sat quietly by the bed for a long time, sleepless through the night.

Still no moon tonight. The midnight sky hung dark.

Realizing she might not see Ji Zhenshi again for who knew how long after this chance slipped away, Li Yunli couldn’t bear to sleep. She just sat there watching her.

For the first time, she realized how quickly a night could pass—just a blink, and it was over, without time to truly take in Xiao Zhen.

The next morning, Ji Zhenshi’s alarm blared again and again. Hangovers dulled the senses, and it took a long while before she rolled over and sat up.

Mm… a familiar scene. The usual blackout.

It took two minutes for her to accept that she’d woken from a drunken stupor in Li Yunli’s room again. She ruffled her messy hair. The more sober she got, the more something felt off.

She felt like she’d overlooked something.

It wasn’t until she lifted the covers and saw the clear bloody mark on her ankle.

“…”

Had someone attacked her?

Did Li Yunli come to the bar last night and bring her back?

It burned with fiery pain. She rubbed her temples. Ji Zhenshi didn’t want to tax her brain—blackout was blackout. No point straining herself.