Chapter 13

Just as Wei Shuyu had thought, Jin Yizhu disrupted her life completely every two months.

The second time she came to Tokyo, Jin Yizhu was very polite and messaged her a month in advance.

“I’m going to Tokyo for a meeting on the third of next month. Are you free?”

When Wei Shuyu received Jin Yizhu’s message, her hands were covered in clay as she wrestled with her sculpture in the studio. She only had time to glance at her phone before the professor approached, and she quickly looked away.

She had originally thought that Jin Yizhu would keep sending messages, just like she used to do.

But Jin Yizhu did not.

Jin Yizhu had actually kept her promise perfectly. She said she wouldn’t keep messaging her and disturbing her life, and she really didn’t. She maintained an appropriate social distance.

It almost left Wei Shuyu a little dazed, as if the Jin Yizhu who had blocked her under the cherry blossom tree that day had been nothing but her imagination.

After dinner at Joel Robuchon, Jin Yizhu saw her off to the station.

Wei Shuyu fell asleep in the car, but Jin Yizhu didn’t wake her. Instead, she had Uncle He find a parking lot and waited until she woke up.

She felt surprised and couldn’t help asking Jin Yizhu, “You waited so long. Why didn’t you wake me?”

Jin Yizhu leaned back in her seat, her tone carrying a hint of nostalgia. “You were sleeping so soundly. I couldn’t bear to wake you.”

At the time, Wei Shuyu felt something was off.

Why did Jin Yizhu sound so nostalgic? What was she nostalgic for? What exactly did she see in her? Wei Shuyu felt deeply uncomfortable, but she also clearly realized that she shouldn’t ask.

It wasn’t time to ask such questions yet. It wasn’t time to truly understand Jin Yizhu yet. It wasn’t time for Jin Yizhu to open her heart to her yet.

Their relationship wasn’t close enough yet.

Wei Shuyu didn’t ask anything. She just picked up the Chanel bag from the floor.

“Then I’ll head back first,” she said. “Consider this my birthday gift from you.”

The black and white paper bag felt light in her hand—not heavy like a typical gift, but more like a promise.

Jin Yizhu watched her back, a slight smile tugging at her lips.

She understood this kind of ambiguous implication better than Wei Shuyu did.

In the days that followed, she kept her appointment as planned. She had dinner with Jin Yizhu, afternoon tea, and chatted about all sorts of trivial things.

She deliberately avoided bringing up Jin Yizhu’s offense to her in Hong Kong, and Jin Yizhu didn’t say anything she didn’t want to hear. They got along peacefully, truly like a pair of close friends.

On the day Jin Yizhu returned to Hong Kong, Wei Shuyu specially cleared her schedule to see her off at Narita Airport.

On the way back, Wei Shuyu kept wondering what she was doing. Jin Yizhu going crazy was one thing, but why was she acting abnormally too?

She didn’t dare think too deeply about it. When Wei Shuyu got home, she cranked the air conditioning to thirty degrees, making the bedroom as hot as midsummer July. She pulled the covers over her head, sleeping from dusk until late night, then from late night until dawn. When she could sleep no more, she finally dragged herself out of bed and soaked in the bathtub.

Her pajamas were soaked through with sweat. She tossed them into the washing machine, unsure if she really had a fever or if she had manufactured an illness herself.

Fortunately, distance was the best medicine. When Jin Yizhu wasn’t around, Wei Shuyu stuck to her routine between home and the studio, as if that person had never come.

If only she could ignore the Chanel bag in the corner and the growing number of messages on her phone that she couldn’t help but reply to.

“Free.”

Once the sculpture took shape, Wei Shuyu washed her hands clean, replied to Jin Yizhu first, then checked her calendar.

It wasn’t very convenient. The third was the beginning of the month, with two papers to proofread and revise, several short meetings, and Ran Jing had taken leave to return home, asking her to cover two days at the gallery.

“I can do dinner in the evening,” Wei Shuyu added. “A bit busy during the day.”

Jin Yizhu replied with an OK—concise and to the point, completely different from their usual casual chats.

A few seconds later, she sent a long message listing her general schedule for each day. Wei Shuyu read it and inexplicably felt a heartwarming tenderness.

She picked a suitable time slot. Jin Yizhu asked her, “What do you want to eat? We can book a restaurant in advance.”

Wei Shuyu thought for a moment and listed a few popular places. “Do you need me to make the reservations?”

Jin Yizhu’s status showed she was typing. Wei Shuyu wondered if she had misunderstood—maybe Jin Yizhu didn’t actually want her to handle such assistant tasks, even if she lived in Tokyo and it would be more convenient?

Of course. For someone as wealthy as Jin Yizhu, having an assistant just to book restaurants was hardly surprising.

Even for sold-out places, it was just a matter of a few hundred yuan to have someone book it.

Jin Yizhu could even get a table at Joel Robuchon, let alone anywhere else.

Sure enough, after some consideration, Jin Yizhu sent a voice message.

“No need. I’ll have my assistant book it. What do you want to eat?” Her voice was warm and gentle, with a touch of helplessness. “Pick whatever. Don’t worry about me.”

Before Wei Shuyu could reply, she added, “Don’t worry about the hassle either.”

“…”

Wei Shuyu didn’t know where she got the courage, but she held down the voice key.

“Damn rich person.”

“Right, right, money burning a hole in my pocket. Come spend some.”

Jin Yizhu sent a red envelope with a snap, her voice tinged with delight.

“I have a meeting first. Send me your picks.”

She didn’t reply further. Wei Shuyu stared at the red envelope, feeling utterly speechless.

A cap of two hundred yuan—nothing she couldn’t claim. She knew Jin Yizhu was joking, but precisely because it was a joke, it made Wei Shuyu helplessly think—damn, this person is kinda cute.

Before Jin Yizhu arrived, Uncle He came first.

He had Wei Shuyu’s contact info but never spoke to her directly, even more mindful of boundaries than Little He.

At ten a.m. on the second, Uncle He messaged her. “Miss Wei, Eldest Miss lands at Narita at three p.m. tomorrow. Are you available to come with me to pick her up?”

Wei Shuyu wasn’t available, but she felt she should be the first to show up at the airport.

She asked, “I have class at three p.m. Can you pick me up first, then go to the airport? Will we make it in time?”

Uncle He had served the Jin family his whole life, outmaneuvering countless rivals to smoothly transition from driving for Mr. Jin to driving for Eldest Miss. He was full of shrewd wits.

He neither agreed nor refused outright. Instead, he immediately forwarded the message to Jin Yizhu.

Jin Yizhu was in a meeting and freed up one hand under the table to reply: 1(Yes)

Uncle He got the message and replied to Wei Shuyu, “Yes, we’ll make it.”

If they were late, Eldest Miss could just wait a bit at the airport.

Chasing from Hong Kong to Tokyo just to make this girl a friend—Uncle He sensed there was something fishy.

After confirming Jin Yizhu’s attitude, Uncle He saved the address Wei Shuyu sent, opened navigation to check the distance.

A message popped up on his phone—from their butler group chat, where someone was messaging again.

Uncle He glanced. Most were from Zhao Qianlin, asking what Eldest Miss was up to in Tokyo lately and why she had her booking several Michelin restaurants.

Little He was young and couldn’t hold his tongue. He told Zhao Qianlin not to meddle so much.

Zhao Qianlin exploded, saying she was just concerned for Eldest Miss. Tokyo trip without a secretary or assistant—could Uncle He handle it?

Uncle He ignored her and privately messaged his son. “Mind your own business.”

He wasn’t in Hong Kong lately, so Little He was covering as driver and was thrilled. “Did Eldest Miss chase that girl from Tokyo? The one I kept messaging before?”

Uncle He nearly rolled his eyes to the sky. “I told you, mind your own business!”

Thinking of his son covering his shift in Hong Kong—probably the closest he’d ever get to Eldest Miss in his life—Uncle He still felt uneasy. He called to warn him. “Driving is about doing more and saying less. Don’t pry, and don’t gossip about Eldest Miss to others—especially Zhao Qianlin, that woman! If you start an office romance, I’ll break your legs.”

Little He cried injustice. “What did I do! That’s Eldest Miss’s woman!”

“Pah, say that out loud and we’re all fired,” Uncle He fumed. “I told you the hotel department was no good! All that loose talk. Listen, Eldest Miss has business in Tokyo. I might not return to Hong Kong anytime soon. If you lose my position, I’ll break your legs.”

“How many legs do I have for you to break…” Little He grinned cheekily. “Got it, got it, all understood.”

Uncle He wanted to say what do you understand, but Little He had already hung up.

A few minutes later, someone finally spoke in the butler group. The supervisor told Zhao Qianlin to talk less and do more, then added a new person—a Filipina maid newly hired by Eldest Miss, expert at desserts.

Why hire another Filipina maid when they already had one? It had to be for Tokyo.

Uncle He thought for a moment, then opened Duolingo to prepare for his new career phase.

The next day, Uncle He picked up Wei Shuyu on time. Considering the school area, he deliberately chose a low-key car.

Unexpectedly, as he parked at the gate, the cars coming and going were all high-end—at least Mercedes G-Class. Uncle He suddenly regretted not driving something flashier.

“Uncle He, did you wait long?” Wei Shuyu nodded to him politely and sat in the passenger seat. “Sorry, a presentation ran late.”

“No problem. We’ll make it in time.”

Narita Airport was huge, and Jin Yizhu still had to clear customs. They should arrive just right.

“The cars around here are all rare models. Your school’s students have impressive backgrounds.”

A tactful way of prying.

Wei Shuyu turned her head, glanced at him, and replied lightly, “The school has a long history. Eldest Miss loves reading about it.”

Blocked by her cool, detached response, Uncle He wasn’t annoyed and kept smiling amiably. “Impressive, Miss Wei.”

“You flatter me. It’s all thanks to the school. I’ve done a few projects; my resume looks good.”

Wei Shuyu knew he was prying into her background. With Jin Yizhu not around, he might not be a proper elder, but he had watched her grow up.

In other words, he was family-placed surveillance around Jin Yizhu, just wrapped in a layer of warmth.

“My family are all ordinary office workers. No artists, so I had to figure it out myself.”

Uncle He nodded, looking quite satisfied.

Middle-class family, steady jobs, good school, plus a clean and pretty face—she was the epitome of non-threatening and easy to get along with.

Jin Yizhu making friends like this—you all must feel relieved, right?

Wei Shuyu suppressed the corner of her mouth to hide her mocking smile.

Once the bit of anger in her throat subsided, she looked at the traffic light and forced a gentle, serene smile. “Uncle He, want to listen to some music? The one you played last time was nice.”

Uncle He brightened. “Sure.”

The stereo came on, and the melody of Elizabeth poured out.

Outside the window, the cityscape rapidly faded into endless barren trees.

In the passionate, soaring tune, Wei Shuyu heard Uncle He humming along to the rhythm—one of the most famous arias, where Elizabeth was trapped in the court, and everyone told her she must learn the rules here.

This is adaptation! This is principle! This is the supreme truth!

No need for emotions here. She must learn the rules!

Wei Shuyu thought of Jin Yizhu’s eyes—slightly upturned peach blossom eyes that curved adorably when she smiled.

But those eyes were filled with a misty confusion.

Ridiculously, no one had ever seen that mist. No one cared about her heart.

She wanted to clear it away but feared Jin Yizhu didn’t need it.

Did she really not need it? Or was she afraid to need it? Wei Shuyu couldn’t figure it out and didn’t dare to dwell on it.