Chapter 58: Together Part 1

Not mind? Not jealous?

How could she not be? Jiang Ruoning’s jealousy had completely overturned the vinegar jar. Why did Yu Ling know about the trouble at her company and that she hadn’t eaten dinner, while she herself knew nothing? Those half-hour sitting in Wu Jie’s room felt like the most agonizing time she had ever endured. Her hand itched to contact Shi Sui more intensely than ever before.

She didn’t like others liking Shi Sui. Not even admiration was allowed.

She was just that selfish and overbearing.

She was just that unreasonable and capricious.

Jiang Ruoning hooked her arms around Shi Sui’s neck and kissed her solidly. Shi Sui propped one hand on the sofa behind Jiang Ruoning, one leg wedged between hers, kneeling forward to press against her. Half her body weighed down on Jiang Ruoning—soft sofa at her back, soft Shi Sui in front. Jiang Ruoning was squeezed tight, breathing through the gaps, only to have Shi Sui lick away every trace.

Her tongue tip went numb. Her pocket phone vibrated nonstop. Jiang Ruoning patted Shi Sui’s shoulder and pushed at her. Shi Sui looked slim and weak but was surprisingly strong. Jiang Ruoning didn’t know if she had been kissed boneless or simply couldn’t bear to use force, but for the first time, she failed to push her away. She bit Shi Sui’s tongue tip hard. Shi Sui hissed, released her, and opened her eyes—pupils shimmering with moisture, as if in pain, her gaze pitiful and vulnerable.

Jiang Ruoning’s heart softened at the sight.

But the phone kept vibrating noisily.

Jiang Ruoning glanced at the screen: a call from Yu Ling. She took a deep breath, her flushed cheeks burning hotter. She answered, and Yu Ling’s crisp voice rang out: “Ning-jie, are you in your room?”

Her phone leaked sound. Shi Sui turned to look at her, breath hot on Jiang Ruoning’s face. Jiang Ruoning wanted to turn away but was held by Shi Sui’s grip on her arm. She stayed rigidly on the sofa, right beside Shi Sui, and said, “I… I’m not.”

Yu Ling went, “Oh, still with Wu-jie then?”

Jiang Ruoning’s voice was muffled: “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Our hairdryer broke. We were gonna borrow yours.” Yu Ling said, “Guess I’ll get a new one from the front desk.”

Jiang Ruoning said, “Okay.”

The short call ended. Jiang Ruoning set down her phone. Shi Sui still stared at her intently, placed the hairdryer in her hand, then slid down from between her legs to sit in front of her, back turned. Jiang Ruoning looked down at her damp hair, ran her fingers through it irritably, messed it into a tangle, and burst out laughing.

Shi Sui turned her head.

Jiang Ruoning turned it back, picked up the hairdryer, and leisurely blow-dried her hair. Meanwhile, amid the recent fierce kiss, she searched her past memories.

Nothing.

Such an intense kiss, yet nothing came up. Had her radar become dull?

Jiang Ruoning moistened her lips and turned to look at Shi Sui—her straight nose bridge and thin lips, slightly swollen red. She had kissed too hard. Jiang Ruoning lowered her head; the hair dried bit by bit in her palm. Shi Sui sat at the computer typing, expression serious. Jiang Ruoning didn’t know where to look, her gaze landing briefly on the screen.

All data reports: regions, totals, warehouses, online transactions. She glanced, got sleepy, yawned. Shi Sui turned, looked up at her: “Tired?”

Jiang Ruoning said, “A bit.”

From the flight until now, no real rest, plus dinner out earlier—she was exhausted. Shi Sui said, “Go shower first then.”

Jiang Ruoning nodded: “Oh.”

As she stood, she remembered this was Shi Sui’s room. “I’ll head back then.”

Shi Sui looked up: “Back where?”

Jiang Ruoning blanked: “My room.”

Shi Sui said, “Can’t it be here?”

Jiang Ruoning stared: “Here? Aren’t you on your period?”

Shi Sui: “…You want it that bad?”

Jiang Ruoning bristled: “Of course not!”

Shi Sui nodded: “Then it won’t affect our rest.”

Jiang Ruoning was amused and exasperated. She tried to leave, but Shi Sui tugged her arm. “I have my own room.”

Shi Sui said, “I know. I want you here.”

Jiang Ruoning twisted: “Why?”

Shi Sui said, “I’m really tired today.” She hugged Jiang Ruoning: “Stay with me, okay?”

Jiang Ruoning yielded to softness, not force. She could fight tooth and nail against aggression, but this softness hit her weakest spot—that “no” stuck in her throat just like the earlier “not minding.” Shi Sui pushed her into the bathroom and stuffed pajamas into her hands.

Standing in the bathroom, Jiang Ruoning: …

She had just come to deliver dinner.

Now she felt like the dinner.

She showered messily, washed her hair, changed into the pajamas—clearly Shi Sui’s, long sleeves and pants, but silky and comfortable. She adjusted the collar and stepped out. Shi Sui leaned on the sofa, head drooped—maybe asleep? She approached; Shi Sui turned.

Jiang Ruoning saw she had been on her phone. “So busy?”

Shi Sui locked it: “Not busy.”

She patted the spot beside her. Jiang Ruoning sat. Shi Sui grabbed the hairdryer from the table and blow-dried her hair. Positions swapped, Jiang Ruoning listened to the whir and asked, “Did you take your medicine?”

Shi Sui said, “Yes.”

Jiang Ruoning worried: “Still, let’s get you checked at the hospital. This cold’s dragging on too long. I remember some cancer starts with a cold.”

Shi Sui: “…”

Jiang Ruoning: “Don’t dismiss it. Tons of dramas where lovers reunite, then one dies of illness.”

Shi Sui: “Are we together?”

Jiang Ruoning: “…Not yet.”

Shi Sui: “Then I won’t die yet.”

Jiang Ruoning: “…”

Person alive, topic dead.

Shi Sui quickly dried her hair, set down the dryer. Jiang Ruoning sat awkwardly, unsure what to do. She suddenly recalled staying at that farmhouse inn—originally two rooms, then Qin Zheng joined, so she and Shi Sui shared one. Sitting on the bed’s edge that night, she had no clue what to do, while Shi Sui seemed perfectly natural, undisturbed. But when she lifted her head from Shi Sui’s arms in bed and poked her chest: “Shi Sui, your heart’s beating so fast.”

Are you nervous too?

Jiang Ruoning suddenly wanted to touch Shi Sui’s chest but held back. She saw Shi Sui tidy up outside, return, turn off the lights, and ask: “Curtains?”

The floor-to-ceiling windows were one-way: clear view out, none in. Jiang Ruoning said, “Whatever.”

“Whatever” meant she wanted to look. Shi Sui caught the hint—no curtains, just all room lights off. She lifted the covers onto the bed. They had nights of just lying, chatting, joking—no tourism tales or school stories tonight. Shi Sui always ended up wanting to kiss her mid-story; Jiang Ruoning would pry her face away: “Why do you always kiss me? Don’t wanna listen?”

She wanted to listen—and kiss more. Like an instinctive urge: to hold, kiss, possess.

To have Jiang Ruoning.

Shi Sui hugged her tight, like fitting puzzle pieces. Jiang Ruoning felt sticky-hot, lifted her head from the embrace. The girl from farmhouse memories now had fully defined features—sharp angles, fierce when mad. Always pretty, now stunning.

Jiang Ruoning touched Shi Sui’s chin; the hand at her waist tightened harder. She winced: “Hurts.”

Shi Sui, eyes closed: “Does it?”

Jiang Ruoning: “Yeah, I’m not made of wood.”

Shi Sui, impassive: “Didn’t hurt when Miss Liu hugged you today?”

Jiang Ruoning’s brain short-circuited: “What Miss Liu?” Then: “What hug?”

Shi Sui: “On the plane.”

Jiang Ruoning: “Oh, you mean Wen Xiu-jie? She just checked if I’d gained weight. No hugging.”

Shi Sui smiled without mirth: “Wen Xiu-jie?”

Jiang Ruoning pursed her lips: “Mm.”

Shi Sui said nothing, just held her tighter—no room to turn. “Loosen up.”

She patted the hands at her waist. Shi Sui didn’t—instead lowered her head, captured her lips, nipped the corner, tongue slipping in. Jiang Ruoning’s mouth filled; she tried to speak, but breath was blocked. Room filled with intermittent sounds, light then heavy.

Jiang Ruoning panted wearily, gulping fresh air through gaps. Everywhere—nostrils too—was Shi Sui’s scent: warm, mixed with shower gel and body fragrance. Intoxicating, dizzying. She heard Shi Sui call: “Ningning.”

Like a dream whisper, yet clear.

Jiang Ruoning responded slowly: “Hm?”

Shi Sui: “Call me jie-jie.”

She snorted a laugh, stubborn: “No.”

Shi Sui touched her soft spot: “Call me?”

She gasped, bit her lip: “No… mm…”

Such lovers’ games until Jiang Ruoning was kissed to sleep. Shi Sui finally stopped. Her weary, drugged body eased surprisingly with Jiang Ruoning in her arms. Listening to steady breaths, she drifted off too.

Deep, heavy sleep—like dreaming, not dreaming.

Amid haze, Jiang Ruoning heard phone vibrate—thought morning alarm, groped to silence it. Blurry-eyed, brain fogged, she realized it was Shi Sui’s phone. Two new WeChat messages. Not prying, just instinct. Screen unlocked smoothly into chat.

She must have often snooped on Shi Sui’s phone before. Certain.

From Zhou Man: asking if free for lunch today—weekend, come over if home.

Jiang Ruoning replied: [Not in Shangjing, out on business.]

Zhou Man: [Okay, Xiao Guai misses you. Cold better?]

Jiang Ruoning squinted: no cough last night, no fever, slept soundly. [Probably better.]

Zhou Man stared: [Probably? Ruoning?]

Jiang Ruoning flung the phone—missed Shi Sui, luckily.

Fuck!

How’d she know? Zhou Man so sharp? Lawyer indeed!

Jiang Ruoning stammered: [Yeah, Xiao Man-jie.]

Zhou Man: [Morning.]

Jiang Ruoning cleared her throat: [Morning.]

Uncomfortable chatting as Shi Sui with Zhou Man, she switched to her own phone, sent an emoji. Zhou Man replied with a bright smiley—blinding. Face heating, Zhou Man: [You making her rest?]