Narita Airport bustled with people coming and going, the floor so clean it reflected the ceiling lights.
The broadcast looped flight information endlessly. Wei Shuyu entered the airport and kept her ears open, worried she would miss Jin Yizhu’s flight announcement.
Jin Yizhu had already gotten off the plane and just messaged her that she was picking up her luggage.
The airport was especially crowded that day. Wei Shuyu stood at the exit and watched the busy scene inside. She simply found a seat and sat down, watching travelers drag their luggage past her as she waited for Jin Yizhu to finish the procedures and come out.
Moments later, another group of passengers emerged, and she spotted Jin Yizhu at once.
She was looking down at her phone, seemingly sending her a message. Her long hair draped over her shoulders, her skin was very fair, and she wore a deep black trench coat with a loosely tied belt that gave her an air of distance.
Wei Shuyu watched her and felt she looked even more beautiful than the last time they met.
Perhaps it was because she had just gotten off the plane, carrying a faint fatigue in her expression, but those eyes were like deep, dazzling gems that she couldn’t look away from. It was hard to say exactly why, but Wei Shuyu simply felt she was so stunning that the entire world paled in comparison.
After sending the message, Jin Yizhu tossed her phone into her bag and glanced around, quickly spotting Wei Shuyu.
From a great distance away, Jin Yizhu waved at her.
Wei Shuyu was momentarily stunned, then walked over with a faint curve at the corners of her mouth. “There are a lot of people today. Did you wait long at customs?”
“Yeah, it’s cherry blossom season, so lots of tourists,” Jin Yizhu walked a few steps toward her with a smile. “You still remember me.”
The obviously teasing tone made Wei Shuyu’s face heat up slightly.
She wasn’t sure if she had actually blushed, so she looked away and said ambiguously, “How could I forget you.”
“You didn’t forget me this time,” Jin Yizhu laughed by her ear. “Last time, with that look in your eyes, I thought you were going to cut ties completely with me.”
“That was… a special situation,” Wei Shuyu recalled the last time Jin Yizhu had come to find her, and her back still tingled faintly at the memory. “Separate matters.”
After all, at that time, she really hadn’t planned to see Jin Yizhu again.
As for this sticky, ambiguous friendship now… whatever. She could just admit she had no bottom line.
No bottom line, no principles, and she kept walking into the tiger’s mouth time and again.
Wei Shuyu knew this all too well, but during the two months Jin Yizhu was away, she had thought it over and over, yet couldn’t come up with a reason why she absolutely had to refuse.
Did she actually hope, deep down, that Jin Yizhu would treat her this way? Wei Shuyu didn’t know and didn’t want to delve into it.
Better to let nature take its course and let things develop until the day she had to make a decision.
Wei Shuyu’s gaze fell on the suitcase beside her, and she reached out to take it. “Let me carry it for you.”
Jin Yizhu instinctively frowned. “No need.”
Wei Shuyu had already pulled the luggage to her side and pushed it forward as she walked. “Let’s go. Uncle He said he’s waiting for us in the parking lot.”
Jin Yizhu looked at her back and said nothing more.
She was used to this sort of thing, actually.
Her family had an entire team of house staff dedicated to serving her; wherever she went, she never had to lift a finger.
Not just Uncle He and Little He—even at the company, there was someone like Zhao Qianlin, who held the title of secretary but was really her personal assistant.
But when Wei Shuyu naturally took hold of her suitcase, it felt strange to her.
This didn’t seem like something friends did.
What exactly did Wei Shuyu see her as?
Jin Yizhu glanced at her profile. Wei Shuyu was dressed plainly today, in a light-colored sweater made of cashmere, with a fluffy collar that added a touch of lively cuteness to her refined, fair face.
She dragged her suitcase with light, brisk steps, showing no reluctance at all, her movements as smooth as if she had done it a thousand times.
Jin Yizhu said nothing, but her heart felt a bit complicated.
It wasn’t that she didn’t need to be taken care of; it was just that she didn’t need Wei Shuyu to take care of her this way. Yet she couldn’t deny that this feeling of being cared for… was pretty comfortable.
But was Wei Shuyu like this only with her? Or did she do it with others too?
How many people had she done this for?
Jin Yizhu pursed her lips, then suddenly stepped forward and linked her arm with hers.
Wei Shuyu turned her head slightly and glanced at her but said nothing.
The parking lot was a bit cold. As soon as Jin Yizhu stepped out the glass doors, she saw the familiar black sedan parked not far away.
Uncle He had already gotten out and walked over quickly, his gaze landing on her with a smile. “Eldest Miss, tough journey.”
Jin Yizhu nodded. “Thanks for the trouble.”
Uncle He reached out to take the luggage from Wei Shuyu’s hand and smiled. “Miss Wei, you’ve worked hard.”
“Not at all,” Wei Shuyu shook her head. “It’s what I should do.”
Normally, Uncle He would park the car and go pick up Jin Yizhu himself.
But today, Wei Shuyu had insisted on going, and Uncle He hadn’t argued. Young people had their own ideas, and he figured tagging along might cramp their conversation.
The car heater was on full blast. Jin Yizhu took off her coat and draped it over the seatback. Seeing this, Uncle He handed her a bottle of mineral water.
Jin Yizhu checked the time and turned to ask Wei Shuyu, “What do you want to eat tonight?”
After getting in the car, Wei Shuyu hadn’t spoken, just leaned back in her seat and stared out the window for a long time.
Jin Yizhu felt she seemed very tired.
But when Wei Shuyu heard her and turned around, she smiled at her. “Anything’s fine. You decide.”
Jin Yizhu blinked. “Anything?”
“Yeah.” Wei Shuyu nodded. “I live around here, so I’m fine with whatever. Whatever you like, I’ll go with you.”
“True, eating the same thing every day gets boring,” Jin Yizhu looked down at her phone and scrolled for a bit before suddenly looking up. “Let’s have omelet rice.”
Wei Shuyu was stunned—not because omelet rice was bad, but because she was surprised Jin Yizhu would pick something so ordinary.
Given Jin Yizhu’s usual style, anything less than Michelin wouldn’t even be on her radar.
Wei Shuyu asked, “You like omelet rice?”
“Yeah, since we’re here, it wouldn’t feel right without trying it,” Jin Yizhu said flatly. “This place near Tokyo Station. Convenient to get anywhere from there.”
Wei Shuyu looked at her. “So even you think that way sometimes.”
“What do you mean? I’m not an alien,” Jin Yizhu laughed at her words. “When you’re here, you have to try it. Us traditional Chinese people are like that.”
Wei Shuyu laughed along. “I thought you only ate Michelin.”
“Nah, you have to switch it up sometimes,” Jin Yizhu said. “Besides, after eating so much of it, it all tastes the same. It’s late today, so no need to fuss. Omelet rice sounds more comfortable.”
Wei Shuyu fell slightly silent. She didn’t know how to respond to that.
She was just an ordinary person, far from being tired of Michelin, so it was hard for her to relate to Jin Yizhu’s sentiment.
Jin Yizhu might have been tired; she didn’t reply, and Jin Yizhu showed no reaction.
Wei Shuyu turned her head and realized Jin Yizhu had leaned back against the seat and fallen asleep.
The sleeping Jin Yizhu seemed a few degrees gentler than usual.
Without the aura of the Eldest Miss, her radiant features only appeared more exquisitely refined, like a European sculpture.
Her lips were pursed, her brows slightly furrowed, as if whatever she dreamed of brought that expression to her face.
Wei Shuyu stared in a daze, even tempted to reach out and smooth that wrinkle.
Before she could act, Uncle He spoke up, interrupting her fanciful thoughts. “Miss Wei, we’re here. Is the Eldest Miss still asleep?”
“Not yet,” Wei Shuyu said. “Should I wake her? She looks really tired.”
“Yeah, your reserved restaurant closes in an hour,” Uncle He said mildly, though his words brooked no argument. “Missing dinner isn’t good for the body.”
Wei Shuyu gave him a surprised look. Uncle He sat in the driver’s seat, and from her angle, she couldn’t see his expression.
She could only glimpse a corner of it in the rearview mirror.
“But she’s very tired,” Wei Shuyu ventured. “She hasn’t woken up even with us talking.”
“You wake her,” Uncle He said. “Napping now makes it easy to have insomnia at night.”
Of course, he didn’t say anything about it affecting tomorrow’s work, but Wei Shuyu wasn’t a fool.
She caught the implication.
Jin Yizhu followed a robotically precise routine, and her parents—or whoever—didn’t tolerate any disruption to it.
Even a short nap was unacceptable for her.
Enforcing this routine was probably part of Uncle He’s job.
Wei Shuyu didn’t want to interfere with his work, but she also didn’t want… Jin Yizhu to live so exhausted.
Of course, it was a very good routine.
Regular meals, punctual sleep, keeping her body in peak condition—perfect for studying or working.
She knew it was good; she’d been held to the same standard herself.
But it was tiring.
Wei Shuyu let out a soft sigh. She knew she shouldn’t—but a wave of heartache for Jin Yizhu still welled up uncontrollably in her heart.
It mixed with her own forgotten pains, turning into another kind of feeling.
“Jin Yizhu,” she called her name very softly. “Wake up.”
Uncle He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. Clearly, this girl had her own ideas.
“Miss Wei,” he reminded her. “It’s very late.”
Wei Shuyu made a stopping gesture at him.
She wasn’t the assertive type, but on this night, she wanted to—at the very least—wrap their ruthlessness in a layer of her own gentleness.
“Let’s go eat omelet rice,” she said a bit louder, with a hint of coquettishness. “Jin Yizhu, I’m hungry.”
Uncle He glanced at her again but said nothing.
He found it strange, even unbelievable. This girl, whom Jin Yizhu had paid to be her friend—why would she risk offending others for her sake?
A little digging would show that though he was Jin Yizhu’s driver, he worked for her father and could be seen as half a guardian to her. One word from him, and Wei Shuyu could vanish from Jin Yizhu’s side.
“Jin Yizhu,” Wei Shuyu shook her wrist. “If you don’t get up, I’m going to tickle you.”
Her deep dream shattered, and Jin Yizhu slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was Wei Shuyu’s faint smile.
The discomfort of sudden waking didn’t appear, and even her fatigue seemed to vanish. Jin Yizhu only felt a sweet fragrance colder than snow enveloping her, more intoxicating than anything in the world.
