“Jin Yizhu?”
Wei Shuyu’s voice rose a few degrees, thick worry almost spilling over.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Jin Yizhu came back to her senses. “Just a bit tired.”
She stood up from the sofa, began removing her makeup and hairstyle, placed her phone nearby, and casually asked:
“What did you do today?”
“Classes, then dinner with friends, came home and read for a bit,” Wei Shuyu listed them one by one. “Were you at some banquet tonight?”
“Yeah, exhausted me,” Jin Yizhu’s thoughts slowly gathered. “But my makeup looked really pretty today. What a shame. Should’ve shown it to you before taking it off.”
Her phone was placed nearby, but not facing her.
All Wei Shuyu could see was a patch of snow-white ceiling. Lights sprinkled down from above, falling on the sofa behind her. The ink-green fine velvet sofa glowed with soft light, scattered with a few throw pillows, creating a certain cool and detached atmosphere.
“Not too late to show me now?” Wei Shuyu laughed. “Even just a little.”
“No way, I’ve already removed most of it. It doesn’t look good anymore,” Jin Yizhu shook her head. “Next time, if there’s a chance.”
Wei Shuyu let out an “mm,” and for a moment, words failed her.
She knew what she should say—that she must still look beautiful now, half-removed or not. Comfort or praise like that would surely make Jin Yizhu a bit happier.
But she didn’t say it.
Some emotion bubbled up from nowhere, making her heart feel a little sour.
The Jin Yizhu she hadn’t gotten to see—countless people at tonight’s banquet had.
They were Jin Yizhu’s family, friends, people from real life. And she was just an intruder lingering outside it all.
How much did she really know about Jin Yizhu’s true life?
If Jin Yizhu decided to loosen that thin thread between them, what could she do?
Jin Yizhu keenly caught that trace of dejection in her, paused her makeup removal, and asked: “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Wei Shuyu suppressed the unease in her heart. “Do you have anything tomorrow?”
“Nothing major, but I need to stop by the company.” Jin Yizhu replied.
Her trip to headquarters was already out in the open. Tomorrow, she’d first visit the branch office, handle the original matters, then take care of the formalities.
But there was no need to tell Wei Shuyu about that.
“That’s good, you can rest a bit.”
Wei Shuyu no longer sat at her desk. She just stared at Jin Yizhu’s video feed, waiting to see if she might appear for a moment. That was a rare occurrence.
When Jin Yizhu video called her, she usually just tossed the phone somewhere casually. The screen was a mess, no point in staring.
She stood up to attend to her own things. Wei Qinglu had said a few days ago she wanted to come play; she needed to check her schedule.
Though Jin Yizhu herself wasn’t in frame, Wei Shuyu noticed the moment she stepped away.
“Wei Shuyu?”
Jin Yizhu called her name, her tone carrying a hint of doubt.
“Where are you going?”
“Something came up,” Wei Shuyu heard her voice and returned to the frame. She asked, “What’s up?”
“Nothing. What’s so important?” Jin Yizhu asked.
She hadn’t even seen her face, but Wei Shuyu could already imagine it: Jin Yizhu’s pretty face must show confusion, maybe her brows slightly furrowed, a touch displeased.
Why? Was it okay only for her to be distracted during video calls, but not for Wei Shuyu to step away from the camera? Must she let Jin Yizhu see her every move?
Of course. After all, she was the Canary.
It was reasonable and normal for Jin Yizhu to know everything about her.
“My little sister’s coming to play,” Wei Shuyu fiddled with her nails, her tone light. “I want to check some guides.”
“Your sister’s coming to play, so you need guides?” A sour note crept into Jin Yizhu’s tone, one she didn’t even notice herself. “When I came, you just hid from me.”
Wei Shuyu was slightly taken aback. Was Jin Yizhu jealous?
“That was because things were a bit unpleasant before,” Wei Shuyu’s voice softened instinctively. “Not now.”
She didn’t know if she wanted to coax Jin Yizhu or herself. She only knew in that moment, she desperately wanted to hold Jin Yizhu’s hand, swing their fingertips in the night breeze, make that trace of loneliness fade from her face.
“You’d better not,” Jin Yizhu laughed. “When’s your sister coming? Don’t book a hotel. She can stay at your place.”
“Is that okay?” Wei Shuyu was stunned again. “It doesn’t seem right… It’s your house, after all.”
“Since it’s my house, I say she can stay. What’s the problem?”
Jin Yizhu said indifferently. She had fully removed her makeup and sank into the wide recliner.
“I won’t be able to come for a while. It’s good if she keeps you company.”
“Oh…” Hearing she wouldn’t have time to come, Wei Shuyu felt not relief, but loneliness. She couldn’t help asking more: “I have a week off next month. Want me to come to Hong Kong?”
“Of course it’s good if you want to come, but I’ll be pretty busy,” Jin Yizhu said. “You might have to wander around on your own.”
Wei Shuyu fell silent for a moment: “Then never mind.”
“Mm,” Jin Yizhu didn’t mind either. “Have fun with your sister.”
Wei Qinglu arrived three days later, dragging a massive suitcase. The moment she entered Wei Shuyu’s home, she let out a “wow.”
“A tower! This is right above Roppongi, right?”
Wei Qinglu had just graduated university this year. Everything excited her. She stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass window, snapped several photos with her phone, then turned back reluctantly and asked:
“Sis, your friend is really loaded.”
Wei Shuyu lay on the sofa, holding her phone to message Jin Yizhu that her sister had arrived and would stay in the guest room today.
Jin Yizhu was probably busy; the message went out, but no reply came for a long time.
“It’s not really a friend, is it?”
Wei Qinglu was sharp and saw it from her expression.
“Then…?”
Wei Qinglu had wanted to say girlfriend, but her sister’s tense shoulders and phone-staring gaze didn’t look like a lover’s.
But not friends, not girlfriend—why rent a place in Minato Ward for Wei Shuyu to live in?
Strange thoughts bubbled in Wei Qinglu’s mind. She knew her sister was popular, especially with rich people. During New Year’s once, she’d overheard the vague adult talk… their expectations for her sister.
Wei Shuyu’s reaction then was to flip the table and tell them they were dreaming.
Wei Qinglu thought it couldn’t be that kind of thing.
Yet, under her increasingly anxious gaze, Wei Shuyu spoke.
“Mm,” Wei Shuyu said. “She’s my financial backer.”
She’d considered other words, like boss or something, but in the end chose “financial backer”—a term that stung both her and Wei Qinglu.
“Financial backer…”
Wei Qinglu was indeed stunned, her face full of disbelief.
“That’s… being kept? Didn’t you say you wouldn’t do that kind of thing…?”
“Mm, I won’t be kept by just anyone, but I like her.”
Wei Shuyu said it very calmly, as if she’d rehearsed the line in her mind a million times, without a hint of hesitation.
“It’s that person from Hong Kong before. She came to Tokyo for me, and I couldn’t refuse.”
She hung her head. The overhead light fell on her face, casting a pallid glow.
She hadn’t meant to tell Wei Qinglu. But these words had fermented in her heart too long; they needed an outlet, and Wei Qinglu was a suitable choice.
“That Eldest Miss?” Wei Qinglu still remembered. “I thought you two were done.”
“I thought we were done too, but we’re not,” Wei Shuyu’s voice sank lower. “I don’t know what’s going on now. I feel like it shouldn’t be like this, but somehow it turned out this way.”
Wei Qinglu was silent for a few seconds. She had no experience or insights on relationships. Mostly, she relied on a small animal-like instinct: happy is good, miserable is bad.
Then, she asked a very direct question: “Are you happy?”
Wei Shuyu bit her lip until she tasted a faint metallic tang on her tongue tip.
“Happy,” she said. “It’s precisely because it’s too happy that it hurts.”
It hurt that this happiness couldn’t be more. It hurt that she and Jin Yizhu were just this kind of relationship. It hurt that she couldn’t join Jin Yizhu’s real life, couldn’t see more of Jin Yizhu…
It hurt her own weakness, her powerlessness, her indecision.
“Then, just do more things that make you happy, right?”
Hearing it wasn’t for money, Wei Qinglu calmed down instead. Being kept for love sounded ridiculously foolish, but that was her sister.
“I don’t know all that complicated stuff. I just think people live to be happy.”
“I used to think that way too,” Wei Shuyu said. “Chase what you like, no regrets after loving… But the gap between me and Jin Yizhu is too big.”
“What’s wrong with a big gap?” Wei Qinglu didn’t get it. “Gaps in worldly status can always be bridged with effort. Didn’t you say that?”
Hearing her own words from years ago, Wei Shuyu couldn’t help a bitter smile.
After a while, she answered softly: “Yeah, the distance between souls is what matters most.”
She stood from the sofa and walked toward the study. Wei Qinglu stared blankly after her, feeling as if a flame burned within that slender, thin frame.
It was the sister she hadn’t seen in so long.
Wei Qinglu’s heart pounded wildly. She remembered the day she first truly noticed this sister. Wei Shuyu’s face had held exactly that expression.
Indifferent as drifting clouds, seemingly uncaring about anything. Eyes cold and stern, inscrutable darkness, lips pressed tight, hiding an unwilling fire.
She’d never cared about anything outside studies, hated family gatherings even more—always zoning out through them.
But that day was different. At the noisy dinner table, someone started it: accusing Wei Shuyu of ruining the family reputation, wasting her prime years unmarried, messing with a woman, not even sending money home—utterly unfilial.
Publicly outed, Wei Shuyu stood, unhurried, and asked: I don’t kill or arson, I support myself, do what I want—what’s the problem?
Stunned perhaps by her shamelessness, the adults’ faces varied. They took turns attacking, from wasting her beauty and talent, to someone willing to pay big to marry her, make her a rich wife—what was so bad?
Wei Qinglu was still in high school then, not grasping the twists.
She only saw her sister in the crowd’s center, questioning the elders coldly: “All that talk of righteousness and morality boils down to selling your daughter. I just like women—like I committed a crime.”
“The most important thing in life is living true to your soul. Worldly gaps can be erased through effort.”
“I dare say my soul is spotless. Do you?”
With that, she swept away, leaving them exchanging glances.
Wei Qinglu’s heart thumped. The answer to countless practice problems she’d never found appeared before her. Unable to hold back, she stood and slipped out after her.
That choice made her the only one in the family Wei Shuyu ever truly regarded.
“Wei Qinglu, when you’re done playing later, go sleep in the guest room yourself.”
Wei Shuyu’s voice pulled Wei Qinglu back. She agreed. Wei Shuyu paused at the study door, still uneasy, and added:
“Bathroom’s that way—you can soak. Use the living room and kitchen freely. Just don’t go in this room.”
She pointed to the door beside the study. “That’s Jin Yizhu’s room.”
Since it was Jin Yizhu’s house, naturally there was a room for her.
Though she hadn’t stayed yet, the room was long prepared. Housekeeping came regularly to clean, keeping it ready for occupancy anytime.
“You don’t sleep together?” Wei Qinglu lifted her head from the sofa. “That’s inconvenient.”
“Actually… we’re not that kind of relationship.”
Her sister’s bluntness made Wei Shuyu’s cheeks flush slightly.
“It’s more convenient if we don’t sleep together.”
“Huh?” Wei Qinglu was baffled, tugging her hair and muttering, “Platonic…”
“We’re more like friends,” Wei Shuyu said gently. “She also hoped more that I would be her friend.”
“Huh?” Wei Qinglu was full of question marks and nearly pulled out her own hair. After a moment, she suddenly understood and pounced toward Wei Shuyu. “Wow, so you, the canary, are the one who wants more… Wow!”
Wei Shuyu sneered coldly and slammed the door shut, treating it as her answer.
Alone in the study, Wei Shuyu’s mind finally calmed down.
Although Wei Qinglu spoke bluntly, she was not wrong.
Indeed, she, the canary, wanted something to happen more.
It was just a pity that Jin Yizhu was utterly straightforward. Even if her face flushed and her heart raced, she still would not think about what that was due to.
Wei Shuyu could feel it—Jin Yizhu had feelings for her. Otherwise, why would she chase her all the way to Tokyo and insist on keeping her by her side? What was all that for?
There was no need to go that far for a friend.
She had once considered whether to break through that layer of window paper or continue playing this friendship game with Jin Yizhu until the day she could no longer pretend.
But she knew very well that her own desire could not be hidden.
Even without Wei Qinglu pointing it out, there would come a day when she wanted to pursue and obtain more.
Now was the moment to make a decision.
She wanted to truly stand together with Jin Yizhu, no matter in what way. Even if it meant paying a price, she could not convince herself to give up.
As long as Jin Yizhu was willing to give her a chance, she would seize it without regard for anything.
Wei Shuyu took a deep breath, sat down at the desk, opened her laptop first, pulled up the report document, and began typing away.
Jin Yizhu’s family background was undoubtedly out of reach, but she also had something to rely on.
The talent that had brought her all the way here, enough to astonish everyone, was her bargaining chip.
