Overly Intense [Criminal Investigation] 24

Chapter 24: Don’t Take It to Heart

“Shen Yiyi, have you ever thought about me?”

“Or, do you feel a sense of loss when you think of me?”

This wasn’t even a direct question for Qin Luo.

She was a writer.

Writing was the act of skinning and gutting, of transforming the images in her head into words for others to see. The Chinese vocabulary was vast and profound. She always chose her words with precision and ruthlessness, knowing she had to put all her effort into the story in her head.

Right now, she just wanted to know if Shen Yiyi ever thought of her, if her appearance had caused any unexpected fluctuations.

Or anything else… anything at all.

Shen Yiyi’s body drooped. Her knees were numb from kneeling for so long. She folded her hands together, kneading the tissue.

After a long pause, she said, “Yes, I feel a sense of loss.”

Answering with “a sense of loss” included the times she had thought of Qin Luo over the years.

Shen Yiyi’s throat was spasming from crying, her voice hoarse. Her fingertips twisted the tissue into many small crumbs that fell on her pants. She added, “But… I rarely think of you. I don’t have much time to think about these things.”

Qin Luo wanted to empty her mind. She looked around the study. The messy books were neatly arranged in a row. The dictionary with the letters tucked inside was lying on the rug. There were crumpled tissues all around her legs, and neatly folded squares of tissue by Shen Yiyi’s legs.

She was soaked from crying, her palms sweaty. The feeling of being dirty made it difficult for her to lift her arms, but she still insisted, “I don’t have much time.”

She needed time to study hard.
She didn’t have much time to think about these things.

Hearing a similar answer, Qin Luo straightened up. “Mm.”

She smiled. It wasn’t a bitter smile or a mocking one, but it wasn’t a happy one either. But the concentration of acid in her abdomen hadn’t risen, and she could still breathe through her sticky throat.

She wasn’t surprised by this answer.

Let alone sixteen years of separation.

In the ten-plus years since her father’s death, Qin Luo had forgotten whether that “plus” was three or four years.

When you’ve lived for a long time, you tend to feel indifferent to everything that happens around you.

But her indifference didn’t mean she was “dead inside,” not the deadness forced upon her by her eighteen-year-old self-collision, nor the passionate desire for life after her eyes were opened at twenty.

It was that she no longer fantasized about impossible dreams, could ignore the groans of the past, and then began to be indifferent.

Qin Luo bent down and picked up the scattered tissues, crumpled them into a large ball, and threw it into the trash.

“I’ve been very busy these past few years too, busy writing books, busy running Logos. But I still think of you. But I can’t lie and say I rarely think of you just because you haven’t thought of me.” Qin Luo got up from the floor, her hand on her lower back. “Because I don’t just occasionally think of you, but always…”

She always thought of that small paper-cutting knife.

It was as if the knife that had been held to the boy’s throat at the restroom door that day had been stabbed into her body.

Her shock had not yet disappeared.
Her anger had not yet dissipated.

The sharp knife had cut open her hidden courage. That knife was still stuck in her shoulder, and no one had been able to pull it out until now.

Qin Luo had thought of Shen Yiyi countless times, at book signings, at charity events. It seemed that as long as she was still creating, as long as Logos was still alive, and the aid society continued season after season, she would always think of Shen Yiyi.

She thought, if only Shen Yiyi were here. She had everything here. In the future, she would hold the knife for her.

But unfortunately, Shen Yiyi was not here.

“You can sit here and read the letters. I’ll go make you some porridge.”

Qin Luo went to the restroom and then turned into the cloakroom. She unbuttoned her cuffs, laughing at how Liu Jia’s dress was completely off, while her own underwear was only wet with tears.

She hung her shirt in the laundry area, changed into new underwear, and then took out a set of loungewear.

In the mirror, the slightly raised scar on her right shoulder blade wriggled like an earthworm with her movements. The flawless skin had a flaw, and the light unconsciously gathered there. It was as if her clothes could also see her from behind.

Qin Luo picked up the loungewear and thought for a moment, then finally chose to wear a camisole.

As she came out of the cloakroom and passed the study, she glanced at the log table. The letters were still there, and Shen Yiyi was squatting on the floor, tidying up.

“Yiyi.”

Shen Yiyi turned at the sound of her voice and looked up at her.

“They’re all new and have been dry-cleaned.” Qin Luo walked to her side and handed her the clothes and bath towel she had prepared. “You don’t have to bother. The housekeeper will clean the rug. You should go take a shower.”

The sticky Shen Yiyi couldn’t refuse Qin Luo. “Thanks.”

Qin Luo stared at the lamp beside her and said lightly, “It’ll probably be late by the time you’re done with the script issues. You should stay here tonight. I’ll take you in the morning.”

Shen Yiyi wasn’t surprised. She nodded. “Okay, thanks.”

Qin Luo turned and walked toward the kitchen.

The last time she had cooked twice in one meal was when she was taking care of Liu Jia’s niece for the summer. The little girl didn’t like the texture of steak and had forced her to cook something else.

So living alone was also good. You could make do with anything.

Qin Luo opened the refrigerator again and took out a box of swimming crab legs from the lower level, putting them in the upper level to thaw. Since she was making plain porridge, she might as well cook more so she could have seafood porridge before work tomorrow morning. While Shen Yiyi was in the shower, she quickly washed the rice and put it in the pot to cook, then brought the water spinach back and put it in the microwave to heat up.

After she had taken care of everything, she sat on the sofa and waited for nearly forty minutes, but Shen Yiyi still hadn’t come out.

Did she pass out in the shower?

Impatiently, Qin Luo took out her phone and typed to Liu Jia:

Qin Luo: [I brought her home.]
Liu Jia: [[Thumbs up]]
Qin Luo: [She cried her heart out in my arms.]
Liu Jia: [No way… you two tonight???]
Qin Luo: [She told me she just wants to be friends.]
Liu Jia: [As expected. That’s very Shen Yiyi. So? Are you all depressed now and looking for comfort from your sister?]
Liu Jia: [Didn’t I tell you to run away quickly!]
Qin Luo: [Actually, I was quite angry at first, but then I came to terms with it. I just think that fate is a strange thing. If it weren’t for that incident with Guo Rui, how would I have had the courage to have a falling out with my dad? If I hadn’t had a falling out, I wouldn’t have ended up staying at Shen Yiyi’s house for a night. And how could I have developed feelings for her later?]
Liu Jia: [Sister, can you not send a long essay? I just finished, and my head is spinning…]

Qin Luo threw her phone on the sofa.

The phone dinged again. Qin Luo heard the sound of a hairdryer from the restroom and reluctantly picked it up again.

Liu Jia: [My bad [Praying]]
Liu Jia: [I read your long essay while holding back my nausea. I think you have a point in seeing her as your white moonlight.]
Liu Jia: [If you’re just friends with her, then I have a high opinion of her.]
Liu Jia: [But if I have to see her as your girlfriend… then it’s hard for me to say.]

A few dozen seconds later.

Liu Jia: [She’s not worth it.]

“I’m done showering.”

Just as Qin Luo was staring at that sentence, Shen Yiyi suddenly appeared in front of her. She was so startled she looked down and locked her phone screen. “Then I’ll go heat up the food.”

Shen Yiyi said, “Let me do it.”

Qin Luo was curled up on the sofa. Shen Yiyi, wearing her clothes, was walking toward her, clean and fresh.

Her freshly blown hair was scattered on her shoulders, and the area around her eyes was still swollen from crying, making her look less sharp and more like a hazy blue. She was afraid she would get up, so she walked quickly and almost tripped on the way.

“Slow down.”

Qin Luo was so scared she even got up. Seeing Shen Yiyi wave her hand to say it was fine, she sat back down. “The porridge is ready. You can just turn off the heat. The vegetables are in the microwave. You can just heat them up.”

“I know.”

Shen Yiyi was wearing a light gray, washed linen outfit that Qin Luo had specially chosen for her.
It had a large V-neck, revealing a lot.

Qin Luo was afraid the dry cleaner hadn’t been thorough and that Shen Yiyi would be uncomfortable wearing it. She had just rubbed the inside and the collar with the back of her hand to make sure the texture was good before giving it to her.

Qin Luo liked this kind of plant-based material. It was as if the body were enveloped by nature, the fine particles responding to the skin, and one could return to a primitive freedom and roughness.

Shen Yiyi and her pajamas were a good match.
She no longer looked tense, but lazy and relaxed. In the soft light, Qin Luo asked her back, “The bedding is also linen. Can you sleep on it?”

“I can.”

Shen Yiyi stood in front of the cabinet, quickly distinguishing which of the three layers of pure black glass was the microwave, and then adjusted the temperature and time on the panel. “How long should I heat it for?”

Qin Luo rested her head on a sofa cushion and stared at her waist. “2 minutes.”

After she was done, Shen Yiyi walked to the pot and lifted the lid to look. “Where are the bowls?”

“The second drawer from the bottom.”

Shen Yiyi bent down to look for the bowls.

This feeling was indeed very strange.

She remembered that on the Mid-Autumn Festival of that year, her mother and grandmother had had a big fight, and her dad had slapped her mom in front of the whole family. The crisp, loud slap had drowned out the Mid-Autumn Festival gala.

She had been cutting a mooncake at the time, and for some reason, she had gone crazy. She had grabbed the knife in her hand and rushed in front of her father, standing in front of her mother and saying she wanted to take her away.

They loved to argue so much. When they couldn’t win an argument, they would fight, pointing fingers and throwing things. She thought her dad would get tired of her. She thought her mom wanted to kill him. They seemed to hate each other, but they were unwilling to look away from each other. They only had eyes for each other. They were so slow to realize that she had slipped away.

Fortunately, Uncle Shen had met her at the door of the infirmary, with her back bleeding.

That night, she and her uncle had not waited for the doctor. But the girl’s wound looked more critical than buying his daughter some digestive tablets. So Shen Qinwen had hurriedly called Shen Yiyi and invited her home.

It seemed it was the same.

Shen Yiyi stood at the kitchen door in a daze, telling her dad she couldn’t find any other bowls and chopsticks. She looked at the table. It was a Mid-Autumn Festival for just the father and daughter, but there was a huge spread of food.
It was as if they had been waiting for her.

Ding—

Shen Yiyi opened the microwave and took out the food. She held it with both hands and stood on the steps, looking at Qin Luo and saying, “The food is ready.”

Tonight also seemed to be specially waiting for her.

While she was getting the porridge, Qin Luo pulled out a chair for Shen Yiyi.

They were like they were back in high school, sitting side by side and eating, only Liu Jia, or the rarely seen Uncle Shen, was missing.

Qin Luo watched Shen Yiyi put the food in her mouth. “Is it good?”

The person beside her chewed silently and nodded.

“No comment?”

Qin Luo propped her arm up and swept her chopsticks around the plate. “Is my cooking better than before?”

Shen Yiyi held her bowl and quickly glanced at Qin Luo’s expression. “It’s good. It’s better.”

“How is it better?”

Shen Yiyi stuffed a large mouthful of porridge into her mouth. “Just &<~!@#.”

…

Forget it. She wouldn’t push her.

Qin Luo chewed a couple of mouthfuls without much enthusiasm. “I don’t have a guest room. You’ll have to sleep in the same bed with me tonight.”

Sleep in the same bed.

Shen Yiyi swallowed the porridge, her hand holding the spoon frozen. An old image flashed before her eyes. They had also slept in the same bed.

It was not yet light. The winter mornings were always a pale gray. Qin Luo was hugging her from behind, and she was curled up like a baby.

The south was bitingly cold. That day, Qin Luo hadn’t held her tightly. Her throat was faintly sore. Drowsily, she had turned to find a source of heat and had accidentally rested her head on Qin Luo’s hair.

Maybe Qin Luo had been woken up by her, or maybe she had been awake all along.

Qin Luo had the scent of magnolia, the warm, dense scent of petals before they had evaporated, a scent you could only smell by getting close to the skin. The scent soothed the stinging pain in her throat.

She had thought she could fall back into a deep sleep.

But Qin Luo had kissed her.

A brief touch of their lips, a feigned brush of their breaths, barely there in her sleepiness.

She had held her breath in silence for a long time before she dared to squint her eyes. Qin Luo’s head was resting against hers, as if she were asleep. There were no shadows around. She watched her eyelashes flutter. Orange light streamed in from the curtains. The gray, quiet morning suddenly became vibrant, and her heartbeat became as visible as a speck of dust in the morning light.

Shen Yiyi hurriedly picked up her bowl and spooned up more porridge.

“The bed is big. Even if Liu Jia came, the three of us could sleep in it. I don’t want you to sleep on the floor.” Qin Luo took a spoonful of porridge and swallowed it.

Her face was calm, her voice bland. “But don’t worry. I know my place. I know you’re not interested in me, so I can let it go.”

Shen Yiyi put down her bowl and spoon again, adjusted the distance between the bowl and herself, and placed her hands on the table.

“Liu Jia was right. A good horse doesn’t go back to the same pasture.”

Qin Luo lazily put down her spoon. The porcelain spoon clinked against the rim of the bowl. “Just think of this reunion as a chance encounter. After the production is over, just pretend that nothing happened these past few weeks, just like the past sixteen years. Don’t take it to heart.”