Wen Xin finished washing up and changing clothes just before Shi Qianyu returned.
She had been thoroughly drunk the night before, her mind foggy and muddled. It wouldn’t have been surprising if she had done anything at all. Pushing open the bathroom door, Wen Xin indeed found it in complete disarray.
She vaguely remembered washing some clothes. Now looking back, her memory hadn’t failed her—she had washed them, but forgotten to hang them up to dry. All the clean laundry was piled in a small basin.
Fortunately, the clothes Shi Qianyu had sent over were intact. Wen Xin took them down one by one from the hooks, including the underwear.
They were all brand new; Shi Qianyu had never worn them.
Feeling a bit embarrassed, Wen Xin put them on. She quickly realized the difference between people.
Shi Qianyu’s chest was larger than hers, and so was the bra. It didn’t fit Wen Xin quite right. She felt awkward and adjusted it carefully several times. The lace on the bra brushed against her hands repeatedly, unconsciously stirring up memories of certain things.
—Those black lace gloves, Shi Qianyu’s lace gloves.
Ambiguous fragments gradually reassembled in her mind. Wen Xin’s face turned as red as an apple. She forced herself not to dwell on those images, lowered her eyes, and splashed cool water on her face to finish washing up.
Afterward, she stepped out of the bathroom and swiftly tidied up the room. Just as she finished, Shi Qianyu pushed open the door.
Shi Qianyu had cooked millet porridge; it smelled wonderful. She brought it out with steamed dumplings, some light side dishes to freshen the palate, and a few pre-peeled eggs. All light fare—nothing too greasy after drinking.
“Wen Xin, come eat breakfast.” Shi Qianyu set everything on the coffee table and invited her over with a smile. The guest room only had one sofa, not very large. They sat side by side, quite close.
Thoughtfully, Shi Qianyu ladled out the porridge for her and placed the other dishes in front of Wen Xin one by one. This seemed to be the first time they were having breakfast together.
“Thanks…” Wen Xin started to say thank you, but remembered Shi Qianyu didn’t like hearing it all the time. She hastily changed her words. “It looks delicious.”
“Eat up.” Shi Qianyu smiled and handed her a pair of chopsticks. “After you’re done, I’ll have someone drive you home.”
“No need.” Wen Xin refused. “I can just call a ride.”
“It’s no trouble.” Shi Qianyu ignored her protests; she wouldn’t relax until she saw Wen Xin safely home. “I have something to do anyway, and it’ll take me right past your neighborhood. It’s on the way.”
“No more arguing. Eat properly.”
“Alright.” Wen Xin nodded. Realizing she wouldn’t inconvenience Shi Qianyu, she finally agreed. Shi Qianyu looked as composed as ever, her actions unchanged, as if yesterday’s events hadn’t affected her at all.
Wen Xin quietly breathed a sigh of relief, her embarrassment easing. She picked up a spoon and sipped the porridge delicately. Then she used her chopsticks to crack open an egg and scoop out the yolk.
She didn’t like egg yolks—never had since she was little. But since Shi Qianyu had made this meal, she intended to finish every bite. So she decided to save the yolk for last.
Shi Qianyu, sitting beside her, noticed. “Do you hate egg yolks?”
“It’s… fine.” Wen Xin equivocated.
She didn’t want Shi Qianyu to know; it wasn’t a good habit, after all.
“If you don’t like them, just say so.” But Shi Qianyu saw right through her and comforted her gently. “Good thing I like them. We complement each other perfectly.”
“If we have breakfast together again, just leave all the yolks for me.” She picked up her chopsticks, cracked open the rest of the eggs, and neatly separated the whites, placing them in front of Wen Xin. Her tone was soft. “There, now you can eat.”
She wasn’t upset about Wen Xin’s pickiness; she had even kindly prepared everything for her.
Wen Xin paused for a few seconds, her eyes meeting Shi Qianyu’s instinctively. She had left her parents too early, learned independence too young, and endured a tough childhood. She rarely received care from others, so even a little kindness touched her deeply.
“Thank you, Director Shi.”
Though Shi Qianyu didn’t like hearing thanks, Wen Xin couldn’t help blurting it out.
Fortunately, Shi Qianyu didn’t chide her this time. She simply said, “No need for thanks.”
She reminded her deliberately. “Remember what you promised me yesterday? Don’t forget to invite me to that movie.”
“I won’t forget.” Wen Xin promised sincerely. Right in front of Shi Qianyu, she picked up a piece of egg white and chewed it slowly.
The way she ate so quietly really made her look like a little hamster. If she didn’t have real business to attend to, Shi Qianyu wouldn’t have wanted to end this pleasant, cozy breakfast time so soon.
…
Even if it meant forcing herself to eat the yolks she hated.
She had just lied to please Wen Xin, after all.
~~~
Breakfast ended quickly.
Shi Qianyu called her driver to pick her up. Wen Xin had already packed her things; she had only brought a small bag, light and easy to gather.
She followed Shi Qianyu’s steps, ready to leave together.
But after just a few paces, Shi Qianyu called her back. “Wait.”
“What’s wrong?” Wen Xin turned, looking puzzled.
Shi Qianyu’s gaze fell on her pale shoulder. After a moment, she said, “Your strap isn’t adjusted right.”
“Does the outfit not fit?” Shi Qianyu stepped behind Wen Xin and carefully straightened the dress strap. Perhaps because of their intimate interactions the day before, Wen Xin still wasn’t used to her touch. Shi Qianyu’s fingertips had barely grazed her skin when Wen Xin shivered uncontrollably.
Wen Xin: “…”
Shi Qianyu: “…”
Shi Qianyu seemed to notice something, but she said nothing. Wen Xin grew embarrassed again.
After a while, Shi Qianyu finished adjusting the clothes. Her gaze lingered on Wen Xin’s shoulder, however. She suddenly spotted a scar—faint in color, not obvious from afar, only visible up close.
The scar was somewhat long, likely from long ago. Shi Qianyu seemed to recall something and gently traced it with her fingertip. “How did you get this?”
“What?”
“The injury on your body,” Shi Qianyu said. “Did you bump into something as a kid? That’s why it scarred.”
Only then did Wen Xin understand. Her shoulder had indeed been injured, but she had been too young at the time and couldn’t remember the details clearly—just vague impressions. “I think it was from a sharp stone.”
She couldn’t recall much and tentatively recounted while thinking. “I was playful as a kid, didn’t watch my step, and accidentally tumbled down a slope.”
“Did it hurt?” Shi Qianyu asked.
“I forgot.” Wen Xin shook her head lightly, nonchalant. She didn’t know if it had hurt; she only knew Shi Qianyu’s fingertip was still on her skin, making it itch. “I was too little back then, after all.”
Because she was so young, she had forgotten. But Shi Qianyu was four years older than Wen Xin. What Wen Xin couldn’t remember, Shi Qianyu still did. That day, it hadn’t been an accident—Wen Xin had grabbed her when she slipped, getting hurt in the process.
Back then, Wen Xin had acted just as nonchalant as now, despite her bad fall. She had gotten up strong as ever, run over as if nothing happened, and checked on her.
Childhood Wen Xin had been better at lying than now, not even furrowing her brow. She had told Shi Qianyu, “Don’t blame yourself. See? I’m totally fine.”
She had reached for Shi Qianyu’s hand and patted her own chest lightly, saying earnestly, “I told you I’d protect you.”
Children didn’t keep their promises—or so Shi Qianyu had thought before. Only then did she truly believe.
Shi Qianyu’s gaze lingered for a long time.
Wen Xin felt uneasy under her stare, her cheeks heating up. The scar was well hidden; few noticed it, and due to its position, even she rarely did.
Afraid Shi Qianyu would find it repulsive, she instinctively covered it with her hand and glanced sideways. “Is it ugly?”
“Not ugly.” Shi Qianyu shook her head slowly, answering sincerely. “How could it be?”
Wen Xin didn’t believe her, figuring it was just consolation. A scar was a scar—hard to look at.
Until she sneaked a peek at Shi Qianyu’s expression.
After a moment, Wen Xin slowly lowered her hand from the scar, her cheeks burning.
…Was this what it meant to be a beauty? The slight furrow of her brows and the downcast lashes somehow looked pitifully touching, making one want to believe her words.
Gazing at a scar with such deep emotion.
