Chapter 26: World One [26]

Father Xue was a drunkard, and a prideful one at that.

This was evident from the fact that after being fired from his company for botching a job while intoxicated, he couldn’t swallow his pride to take up menial work.

As a father, however, Father Xue was willing to abandon all his pride for his son, even going so far as to kneel and beg Shang Siyu for help in public.

Whether such actions were advisable was debatable, but they at least demonstrated that Father Xue cared for Xue Fan and considered him extremely important. From a certain perspective, he was a qualified father.

With this context, it was easy to deduce just how devastating Jing Ke’s sharp words were to Father Xue.

But you can never wake someone who is pretending to be asleep. Even though Jing Ke laid the facts bare with the most direct words, it did nothing to stop Father Xue from clinging to his stubborn beliefs.

Unwilling to accept the truth, Father Xue preferred to believe a reality he could stomach. He was dead set on the idea that his son wasn’t a rotten seed, but merely someone who had temporarily lost his way and was now learning to be better.

Jing Ke, however, gave Father Xue no chance to pester them. She simply called the police and reported that someone was attempting to coerce her into bribery. Within five minutes, officers arrived and took Father Xue away.

–

“What kind of person is Xue Fan’s mother? Should we arrange for her to be brought in as well?” Jing Ke asked, utterly unaffected by any moral blackmail, her mind singularly focused on eliminating threats for Shang Siyu.

Shang Siyu shook her head. “Aunt Xue is a very honest and capable person. She cares deeply for Xue Fan. She probably hasn’t even come back to Mu’an County.”

Xue Fan’s mother was someone who knew how to repay a kindness. The very fact that Mother Shang had introduced her to her current livelihood meant she was incapable of doing anything so excessive.

Jing Ke made an affirmative sound. “The most likely outcome for Father Xue in this situation is a lecture and a warning from the police. He knows where we live. He might still come looking for trouble after he’s released from the station.”

A certain image flashing through her mind, Shang Siyu frowned instinctively. “You mean he might cause trouble for my mother? Uncle Xue shouldn’t be that kind of person.”

“Hard to say. Before today, did you ever imagine he would kneel before you?” Jing Ke asked.

Shang Siyu was speechless. It was true; she had never imagined anything like this. She hadn’t even anticipated Father Xue asking for her help, let alone this.

After regaining her composure, a crucial point suddenly struck Shang Siyu. She spoke up, “If Xue Fan rarely contacted his parents, could it be that they simply don’t know he once targeted me?”

Jing Ke’s brow arched slightly. “Judging by his tone, he was likely unaware. Xue Fan probably wouldn’t have volunteered such information either.”

“Are you thinking of telling him what Xue Fan did to you, so he’ll be too ashamed to ask for your help?” Jing Ke asked.

Shang Siyu nodded slowly. “Uncle Xue simply wanted me to help Xue Fan out of consideration for our past as neighbors and classmates. If he knew how Xue Fan treated me, with no regard for that bond, he wouldn’t have the gall to insist.”

Jing Ke frowned slightly, noncommittal. She simply offered an assessment. “Doing that puts the initiative in their hands. There’s a certain risk involved.”

“We could consider another angle: making them see the reality of the situation by offering not to press additional charges against Xue Fan,” Jing Ke suggested.

“That is a good approach,” Shang Siyu admitted, not denying it. “But if my mother knew, she would probably do the same. She likes to leave a way out for people when she handles things.”

Jing Ke tilted her head. “Shouldn’t dealing with enemies be as merciless as an autumn wind sweeping away fallen leaves? If you leave them an opening, it only fosters false hope and causes us trouble again and again.”

“True, but Xue Fan’s parents are victims in this too. They can’t really be considered our enemies.” Shang Siyu paused, choosing her words carefully before explaining, “If you push honest people too far, there’s a risk involved. Comparatively, leaving some room is the safer option.”

“Human nature is complex. A single thought that surfaces out of nowhere can change a person’s entire destiny,” Shang Siyu said.

Jing Ke blinked, quietly pondering until they reached their car. Only then did she fully grasp Shang Siyu’s point.

“I understand what you mean. I hadn’t considered it thoroughly enough.” Realizing her oversight, Jing Ke immediately admitted her fault. “I’m sorry, I won’t make this kind of mistake again.”

“It’s alright, and don’t apologize for things like this in the future. Otherwise, I’d probably be apologizing to you over ten times a month,” Shang Siyu said. “I tend to overlook things far more often than you.”

After placing their purchases in the trunk, Shang Siyu peeled off her gloves and pressed her warm hands against Jing Ke’s face.

“You’re human now. Don’t hold yourself to such impossibly high standards. It’s too tiring. You need to learn how to relax and enjoy life.” After saying this, Shang Siyu leaned in and kissed Jing Ke over her scarf.

“Alright, let’s go home. Mom should be up by now. We need to bring her breakfast.” Shang Siyu tucked her hands into her pockets, smiling brightly.

Jing Ke slowly pulled her scarf down. In her amber eyes, a flicker of confusion was gradually replaced by a mirth that grew like the dawn.

Heart-fluttering, affection, and love… it seemed she understood these things just a little bit more now.

–

Neither of them mentioned the small incident at the morning market to Mother Shang. After putting away their purchases, the two received a new assignment: to write Spring Festival Couplets and Fortune Characters by hand.

Shang Siyu had practiced calligraphy with a brush for a period in her childhood. While her skill couldn’t be called master-level, her writing was several notches more refined than the generic printed couplets sold in stores.

As someone who had lived abroad for many years, Jing Ke’s fluency in spoken Chinese and ability to write proper characters were already a minor anomaly in themselves. Consequently, she hadn’t unlocked the calligraphy skill tree.

Armed only with some theoretical knowledge, Jing Ke chose to stand by and grind the ink, watching her girlfriend write on red paper with ink mixed with gold dust.

“Do you want to give it a try?” After finishing two complete sets of couplets, Shang Siyu offered the brush to Jing Ke.

Jing Ke shook her head. “I don’t know how to write this.”

“But isn’t your handwriting with a pen quite good?” Shang Siyu smiled. “I’m not asking you to write couplets right away. You can start with the Fortune Character. There’s plenty of ink and red paper left anyway, and we can always buy more if we run out.”

Encouraged by Shang Siyu, Jing Ke hesitantly reached for the brush.

“Dip it in the ink first. For one character, you don’t need too much.” Shang Siyu stepped back, then wrapped her arms around Jing Ke from behind, taking hold of her right hand.

“Relax. I’ll guide your hand for the first few.” Shang Siyu said, resting her chin on Jing Ke’s shoulder, once again taking on the role of a teacher.

For the same reason as before, Shang Siyu rarely found areas where she surpassed Jing Ke. So, whenever she had the chance to teach, she was exceptionally enthusiastic and patient.

“Press lighter when you start the stroke, so you can bring out the sharp point.”

“Just stick with Regular Script initially. Once you’re familiar with the character structure and brush techniques, you can try other styles.”

“I’m really just a beginner myself. Practice a few times, and you might even be writing as well as I do.”

Teaching while constantly encouraging, Shang Siyu had fallen in love with the feeling of being a teacher. She guided Jing Ke through five sheets in one sitting, only stopping regretfully when the ink ran low.

“So, how does it feel? Are you getting the hang of it?” Shang Siyu asked while grinding more ink.

A flicker of hesitation crossed Jing Ke’s eyes. For a moment, she considered using her energy to instantly master calligraphy. But in the end, she chose the path of learning honestly.

“A little. Let me try.” Jing Ke took hold of the brush and laid out a fresh sheet of red paper.

She lifted the brush, dipped it into the ink Shang Siyu had just ground, and, relying on the muscle memory still fresh in her body, replicated a Fortune Character with over eighty percent similarity.

“Very good. My first Fortune Character was far worse than yours,” Shang Siyu praised frankly.

Having spent so much time with Jing Ke, Shang Siyu had clearly become more candid herself. Straightforward attacks were no longer Jing Ke’s exclusive skill.

“Really?” Such praise boosted Jing Ke’s confidence considerably.

“Really. Jing Ke, you’re amazing.” Shang Siyu said, conveniently hiding the fact that she had been younger than ten when she wrote her first Fortune Character. “Try another one; I’m sure it’ll be even better.”

Jing Ke’s smile deepened. Fueled by this, she wrote three more Fortune Characters in rapid succession. The accuracy of her replication jumped from eighty percent to ninety-five percent.

Shang Siyu didn’t hold back on her compliments and finally sealed it with a loving kiss, a reward for Jing Ke’s effort.

The fleeting kiss felt somewhat unsatisfying to Jing Ke. She placed the brush on the rest, then took a step forward, cupping Shang Siyu’s face and kissing her again deeply.

Because Mother Shang’s bedroom was right next door, the two hadn’t been intimate at night these past couple of days. This left Jing Ke, who had grown accustomed to such pleasures, feeling somewhat restless.

Thus, Jing Ke’s kiss was fierce and intense. When they parted, Shang Siyu’s lips were even slightly swollen.

“Little Yu, I want to do more things with you.” Jing Ke didn’t hide her desires regarding Shang Siyu one bit. “I’m willing to write ten Fortune Characters for it. Or even more.”

Shang Siyu draped her hands on Jing Ke’s shoulders, panting slightly to calm her breathing. “Not now. It’s still daytime.”

“But you said the room’s soundproofing is bad, so nighttime isn’t possible either,” Jing Ke’s voice held a trace of grievance.

Shang Siyu touched her own lips with the tip of her tongue. After a brief silence, she made a decision.

“The bathroom has better soundproofing. If we mix it with the sound of running water, maybe it won’t be noticeable,” Shang Siyu said, her face slightly flushed.

They had been intimate in the bathroom before, but those had been brief encounters.

Starting and finishing entirely in the bathroom… that seemed to be a first for today.

Jing Ke’s eyes lit up at this. She sought confirmation. “Tonight?”

“Mm.” Shang Siyu responded, imitating Jing Ke’s favorite gesture and burying her head into the crook of her girlfriend’s neck.

“But you have to let me teach you first. After you experience it firsthand, you can just practice it directly on me,” Shang Siyu said, her voice as quiet as possible.

Doing it in the bathroom was inherently quite stimulating. If she were brought to the edge repeatedly by the ever-earnest Jing Ke in that setting, she figured she’d surrender within ten minutes. That would be way too embarrassing.

Jing Ke, on the other hand, hadn’t thought about it that deeply. She wanted physical intimacy purely for the joy it brought. She simply wanted Shang Siyu to experience even more of that joy.

“Alright. I’ll wait for Little Yu to teach me.” Jing Ke promised. “I’ll study diligently.”