Chapter 91: Don’t Hook Up with Women of Unknown Origins

Ji Zhenshi took her time heading to the bathroom for a quick wash-up, then pulled her white suitcase out of the closet. She had only lived there for a few months, but her belongings were scattered everywhere at a glance—far more than Li Yunli’s.

She packed up all her things, deliberately keeping her expression blank throughout the entire process, as if that would make it hurt a little less.

Whether it was drunken ramblings or a way to vent, she hadn’t been joking. She was really leaving.

For one thing, they were no longer lovers. For another, if Yang Ying found out she had come back to the coffee shop, who knew what kind of scene she would cause.

Ji Zhenshi truly had no energy left to deal with her mother’s threats of suicide. She was so exhausted.

She pulled out her phone, where a text from Yang Ying awaited.

【You’ve moved out of the coffee shop, so you can come home now.】

The tone was almost like charity, as if Yang Ying thought she was giving Ji Zhenshi a way to save face, letting her return home and see the error of her ways.

As if Ji Zhenshi were the one truly at fault. As if Yang Ying were being so magnanimous.

If she were truly magnanimous, how could she threaten her own daughter’s life in such an extreme way?

Ji Zhenshi let out a cold laugh. She had no desire to reply to the message and simply shoved her phone into her bag—out of sight, out of mind.

She knew the text carried another layer of meaning: a nudge for her to hurry up and leave the coffee shop.

No amount of arguing would change Yang Ying’s mind. What seemed like a concession was really just a shift to a softer approach out of fear that pushing too hard would backfire.

After all, Ji Zhenshi’s injury that day had been real, and Zhang Fenglan had played a big role in the aftermath—likely giving Yang Ying an earful.

Yang Ying couldn’t do anything about Zhang Fenglan and had taken the scolding, but she would never let go of Ji Zhenshi’s situation.

Ji Zhenshi, meanwhile, was powerless against Yang Ying too—taking the scolding but unable to ignore her mother’s well-being.

Ji Zhenshi found it bitterly ironic, but she was helpless. She could only grab her suitcase and head downstairs, where her eyes met Li Yunli’s across the counter as the store manager prepared coffee. That single glance held volumes of unspoken emotion.

Breakfast sat on the table as usual. Seeing that Li Yunli had no intention of speaking, Ji Zhenshi stayed silent too.

Questions like how she had gotten back last night, what had happened after, how Li Yunli had known she was at the bar—Ji Zhenshi left them all unasked. Just as she knew Li Yunli wouldn’t volunteer why she had gone to the bar the night before.

The stranger-like distance that had settled in after dawn was something she never imagined could happen between them. They had been so blissfully happy, lost in a sweet illusion so vivid that both Ji Zhenshi and Li Yunli had forgotten the harsh reality beneath.

Now reality had doused them with a bucket of ice water. God only knew how cold it felt.

Ji Zhenshi glanced at the breakfast, then turned to the glass display case. She took a long look at the honor certificates and trophies, but there was no time to hesitate. She swept them all into her suitcase.

Xiao Ning had sensed something off the moment Ji Zhenshi came downstairs. She stole a glance at Li Yunli, then watched as Xiao Ji silently packed her things.

This was… she was really moving out. It was terrifying.

For the first time, Xiao Ning saw such obvious irritation and unease on her boss’s face. Li Yunli’s brows were furrowed tight, her gentle features clouded with endless worry, as if she might snap into a cold fury at any second.

A person so kind and even-tempered, pushed to this point. It was unimaginable.

Who on earth would break up such a perfect match made in heaven!?

No one in the world could be more suited for each other—souls that fit perfectly, love born of mutual admiration. Who could be so heartless?

“Xiao Ji, why don’t you… eat something? I just warmed it up—it’s perfect now.” Xiao Ning spoke cautiously, glancing at Li Yunli, feeling like she was walking on thin ice.

But she was a good employee! She had to help her boss out!

Ji Zhenshi snapped her suitcase shut and let out a long breath, not even lifting her head. “I’m not hungry, Sister Xiao Ning. Go ahead with your work. Don’t worry about me—I’ll be done soon.”

“So where will you live after you move out?” Xiao Ning pressed.

Ji Zhenshi glanced at Li Yunli, who kept her head down and stayed silent. “I’ve already rented a place,” she said wistfully.

“Mm.” Xiao Ning waited for more, expecting details on where.

But Ji Zhenshi just stood there with her hands on her hips, catching her breath, showing no sign of elaborating. The two of them stared at each other, and the moment turned awkward. Xiao Ning could only back off.

Li Yunli surely didn’t know Ji Zhenshi’s new address; otherwise, when she had asked if Ji Zhenshi was moving out, the answer had been yes—but no mention of where.

These two…

Ji Zhenshi stood there a bit longer, then winced as her pant leg rubbed against her ankle. In a daze, she recalled yanking off the string and tossing it away. She wanted to ask Li Yunli if she had the ring and anklet.

But she had thrown them away herself, right in front of Li Yunli.

It was too embarrassing to ask directly now. She gritted her teeth and decided against it, planning to head back to the bar and search.

She had been so bold when tossing them. Now she felt utterly pathetic trying to retrieve them.

Ji Zhenshi quietly rolled up her pant leg to avoid irritating the wound, pushed her suitcase along, pulled up the hood of her sweatshirt, and prepared to leave.

Li Yunli caught the motion from the corner of her eye. Without thinking, she called out to stop her. A thousand words swirled in her mind, but only a stiff sentence emerged. “Ji Zhenshi, you used my card at the bar last night.”

She no longer had the right to forbid Ji Zhenshi from going to bars, but she couldn’t help wanting to look out for her. She didn’t want her going to places like that.

It was concern, but with her anger still simmering, the words came out harsh and cold—more hurtful than her silence on all those messages.

Ji Zhenshi froze, her hands clenched into fists in her pockets. “I’ll transfer the money to you. It was just habit last night. I won’t use it again.”

Two people who cared so deeply were twisting the knife in each other’s hearts. The pain hurt the other—and themselves.

Li Yunli set down her cup with deliberate care. Her inner warmth plummeted after Ji Zhenshi’s words. She pressed her lips tight. “Don’t go to the bar looking for women of unknown origins.”

“I know her.”

Without missing a beat, Ji Zhenshi turned and walked away without looking back.

She wouldn’t be coming back. She had taken all her honors with her.

Perhaps Ji Zhenshi could never convince Yang Ying, but the rift between them was permanent.

Ji Zhenshi knew her, so she would go find her again. Realizing this, Li Yunli could no longer pretend to be calm.

“Ji Zhenshi!” Unable to hold back, Li Yunli chased after her. “Is she your new girlfriend?”

Last night, drunk and defiant, Ji Zhenshi had claimed it was what Li Yunli wanted.

How could it be what she wanted?

Two stubborn people, twisting even the simplest words.

People were selfish. They didn’t like the thought of someone who belonged to them touching others—even if Li Yunli no longer had any claim over Ji Zhenshi.

Ji Zhenshi turned back for a glance at Li Yunli. Just thinking about begging endlessly without response, calling countless times without hearing her voice, made her heart ache like it was pierced by needles.

Li Yunli was trying the same evasive tactic again to cool her down.

But last time, she had known full well how hurtful and pointless it was.

Yet here she was, doing it again!

Ending things so abruptly, without mercy—first battered by Yang Ying, now by her too.

“If I haven’t misunderstood, in Chinese, ‘separating’ means breaking up.” Ji Zhenshi shot back in frustration.

“Do you like her?” Li Yunli persisted.

“I…” Ji Zhenshi faltered, unable to muster anything truly cutting while staring at Li Yunli’s soft, beautiful features.

Silence became their refrain. All the heat was forcibly chilled. It had only been days apart, but everything felt changed.

She opened her palm, revealing the scabbed wound now treated with medicine. Ji Zhenshi gave a self-mocking smile. “I thought you didn’t care about me anymore.”

No check-ins, no meetings, no replies—the cruelest way.

The pain spread, cracking through the silence. Li Yunli couldn’t muster a defense or explanation. She didn’t want to complicate things further.

But her obsession with that woman bordered on mania. Frost gathered in her gentle eyes as she pressed on. “I’ve never seen her, but I know almost all your friends. So you met her recently, right?”

Ji Zhenshi laughed bitterly at herself, feeling like she was talking to an immovable boulder fixated on that woman.

She could barely even remember what had happened last night.

Ye Wuzhi—that was the name. The one who had called her a silly rich girl.

Ji Zhenshi didn’t care about her at all. She narrowed her eyes at Li Yunli, neither denying nor confirming, and pointed to her feet instead. “Do you know where I’m standing?”

“That day, I waited here from dawn till dusk. Right here. You were around too—you just didn’t want to see me. I was gambling that you’d soften.”

She paused, then ground out the rest through clenched teeth. “But I went six or seven hours without food or water, and you wouldn’t even open the door for a sip. You didn’t soften. You won. I’m leaving.”

She was truly moving out now. Whether breakup or separation, there’d be no reason for them to meet again.

She would be traveling for performances. Even back in town, she’d go only to her new place. She wouldn’t come here, or Yang Ying would make another scene.

Li Yunli stiffly averted her gaze, unable to meet Ji Zhenshi’s eyes. Because yes, she had been nearby that day, locked in a silent standoff for seven hours.

Every minute of those seven hours had been torment—a living hell for Ji Zhenshi and Li Yunli alike.

Neither had yielded.

“People you meet at bars are unknowns. Be careful who you get involved with.”

Li Yunli still refused to dwell on breakups, even if things were unclear. She couldn’t give Yang Ying more ammunition against Ji Zhenshi.

Ji Zhenshi gritted her teeth, enunciating each word. “You won. I’m leaving.”

They weren’t even on the same wavelength, each fixated on their own issue.

Ji Zhenshi grabbed her suitcase and walked away.

Forget it. Yang Ying was the real winner.

Li Yunli watched her go, dazed and helpless.

Xiao Zhen was gone…

She stared unblinking as Ji Zhenshi disappeared. Only then did her slender figure stir. She turned and returned to the coffee shop.

“Manager Li, over here…” Xiao Ning’s words trailed off as she watched Li Yunli head straight upstairs.

They had fought again? This time it seemed serious.

Li Yunli pushed open the door to the now-bare room, her body swaying as she stumbled against it.

A choked sob leaked through the door crack. Li Yunli doubled over in tears.

Ji Zhenshi had truly left.

Every trace of her in the room was gone. Ji Zhenshi had even taken the discarded drafts Li Yunli had once painstakingly compiled and bound for her, along with all the Polaroid photos.

With trembling hands, Li Yunli opened the closet. Not a single piece of Ji Zhenshi’s clothing remained. A huge empty space gaped there, mirroring the void in Li Yunli’s heart.

She collapsed weakly onto the bed, lost and adrift.

Suddenly, Li Yunli bolted upright and rummaged through the nightstand for the notebook she had used to record her thoughts back when she couldn’t speak. The notebook was still there, as were the precious photos inside.

She breathed a deep sigh of relief, clutching the photos greedily to her chest.

This was all she had left.

Ji Zhenshi had really moved out. The place felt hollow now, stripped of its former warmth. For Li Yunli, it was just a place to crash—not a home.

Li Yunli hugged the notebook tightly, her muffled cries stretching on endlessly until they finally stopped, who knew how much later.

…

Spring warmed into the heat of summer.

Time passed quickly, really. Day-to-day life held little to look forward to. But Ji Zhenshi and Tang Xien burst onto the scene as an earthly duet. Tang Xien reinvented herself by mentoring Ji Zhenshi, regaining her spotlight, while Ji Zhenshi rode Tang Xien’s coattails to remind everyone of the young violinist named Ji Zhenshi.

They elevated each other: Tang Xien gave her a platform, and Ji Zhenshi brought the buzz.

Tang Xien took Ji Zhenshi on several music variety shows. With Ji Zhenshi’s personality tailor-made for entertainment—always good for a viral moment, instantly recognizable—her fame skyrocketed through sheer charisma.

Tang Xien wasn’t much of a talker; even as a judge on shows, she could kill a conversation dead. That’s where Ji Zhenshi shone.

Her vibe made her a hit wherever she went. She made tons of friends, just as Li Yunli had once hoped.

Mid-June brought Ji Zhenshi’s birthday.

Fresh off a competition with solid results, she finally got two days off from Tang Xien to celebrate properly.

“Happy birthday, Ji Zhenshi.” Tang Xien handed over a small box. “A birthday gift. I don’t prepare them for many people. I hope you like it.”

At first, Ji Zhenshi didn’t catch that Tang Xien’s last words were a warning shot. She took it as modesty and smiled carelessly. “Thanks, Teacher Tang. Anything from you, I’ll love.”

“Why?” Tang Xien pressed.

“…” It had been a throwaway line, but Ji Zhenshi hadn’t expected the follow-up.

After more than a year together, Teacher Tang was getting more human.

Embarrassment colored Ji Zhenshi’s face. She arched a brow. “Because you’re my patron. We’re kindred spirits. I bet it’s something I’ll love. You’re insightful, generous with your money—lending me a million and all. An outstanding artist…”

She couldn’t keep flattering. Ji Zhenshi sighed. “Guess I’ll just open it.”

Flattery wasn’t her thing. Good thing Tang Xien hated it too.

Inside the box was a business card.

Ji Zhenshi’s eyes widened. “This gift… is certainly unique.”

A wealthy woman like Tang Xien, gifting a business card?

Ji Zhenshi tried desperately to convince herself it wasn’t what it seemed.

But it was really hard.