Chapter 38

Unless it was necessary, Wei Shuyu didn’t like putting pressure on others.

She certainly wouldn’t pressure someone she liked.

She merely tugged at Jin Yizhu’s sleeve and shook it lightly, then added, “If you’re not willing, I can sleep with the light on…”

It wasn’t deliberate coquetry; Wei Shuyu truly feared the dark, or rather, disliked the night.

At that moment, the bedroom held only the glow of a small nightlight.

Jin Yizhu’s expression grew complicated as she glanced toward the faint light in the bedroom. “Did you bring it?”

Wei Shuyu turned back to look at the nightlight and nodded. “Yeah, it’s too dark without it. I can’t sleep.”

Jin Yizhu gazed at her profile, a complex emotion surging in her heart that made her pull Wei Shuyu even tighter into her embrace.

“Then why sleep in the guest room? You could’ve just slept with me from the start.”

She couldn’t figure it out, couldn’t make sense of it.

The person before her was someone who could flash a smile, fix her with a mischievous yet sparkling gaze, and tell her to take her resume and flaunt it in front of others, startling them all.

She was also someone who would nestle in her arms, her dark eyes brimming with misty allure as she coquettishly admitted her fear of the dark.

Jin Yizhu didn’t know how to define this person. Amid the jumble of thoughts, her dormant instincts finally stirred once more.

“That would be too embarrassing.”

Wei Shuyu gazed at her quietly, seeming a bit shy.

As if just noticing her own state, she reached up to adjust the slipped shoulder strap.

“Won’t it be too cramped?”

Jin Yizhu watched her movements as if entranced. Her fingers, like tender green onions, glided over slender white shoulders, pulling the thin black strap back up. It barely covered any skin, yet it left one feeling inexplicably bereft.

“It won’t…”

She responded instinctively, her voice even feeling hoarse.

“Sleeping alone feels too empty.”

“Is that so?” Wei Shuyu said nonchalantly. “Then why don’t you usually find someone to keep you company?”

She had always found it strange.

Jin Yizhu couldn’t tolerate loneliness and surrounded herself with many friends.

She wasn’t the first, and whether she would be the last remained to be seen.

Yet this Jin Yizhu, who feared solitude so much and hated being alone, why didn’t she date anyone? Romance was clearly a better way to dispel loneliness.

Even settling for a lover would make sense.

But Jin Yizhu hadn’t.

She immersed herself in this game of friendship with her, wanting nothing else.

Was that reasonable?

“Find someone to sleep with me?” Jin Yizhu looked troubled. “No need. I don’t like others coming into my home.”

“Hm?” Wei Shuyu hadn’t expected that and asked instinctively, “So that’s why Ah Hao doesn’t live with you?”

In Hong Kong, Filipino maids were usually live-in helpers. Jin Yizhu’s apartment was a spacious flat with three guest rooms alone, so it surely had a maid’s quarters. Yet Jin Yizhu had arranged separate lodging for Ah Hao, who only came over during work hours.

The only reason was Jin Yizhu’s preference.

“Yeah, I don’t want people wandering around my home,” Jin Yizhu replied. “I didn’t let Ah Jin live with you for the same reason. The thought alone makes me uncomfortable.”

“You have strong territorial instincts, Jin Yizhu.”

Wei Shuyu smiled faintly and pushed at her shoulder, signaling her to let go.

“What about me?”

What about me? Why did you bring me home and want to sleep together?

Am I different from the others?

Jin Yizhu fell silent for a long time.

Wei Shuyu pushed her away, walked into the living room, and slipped on her jacket, covering her fair skin and graceful collarbones.

Jin Yizhu didn’t answer her question, and Wei Shuyu didn’t press further.

She always knew her limits, especially in such matters. If the other party had no desire to answer, forcing it would only yield superficial responses, not the truth.

It didn’t matter. Wei Shuyu knew well that once such a seed was planted, it would one day take root and sprout, growing into an unignorable towering tree in Jin Yizhu’s heart.

After an unimportant dinner, Jin Yizhu watched TV with her for a while.

Wei Shuyu had little interest in the programs and began yawning within half an hour.

“I’m a bit sleepy,” she said. “Should I go take a shower and sleep first?”

“Didn’t you just get over the fever? Has your body recovered?”

Jin Yizhu leaned over and placed a hand on her forehead.

“Let me check if it’s still hot.”

“It won’t be hot,” Wei Shuyu grumbled. “I’ve had injections for two days now. If the fever hasn’t broken, I’d have burned my brains out.”

“Adults don’t burn their brains out from fever,” Jin Yizhu said seriously. “If you’re uncomfortable, let’s call the doctor again.”

“No need. I don’t want any more injections.” Wei Shuyu glanced at her sideways. “Jin Yizhu, do you have something to tell me?”

“Is it that obvious?” Jin Yizhu touched her cheek.

She did have something to say.

From the moment she returned, Jin Yizhu had wanted to say it.

But the instant she opened the door and didn’t see Wei Shuyu, fear that she had run off again gripped her, leaving no room for other thoughts.

When she found Wei Shuyu in her bedroom and felt the warm, soft body in her arms, attachment bloomed in her heart, making it impossible to bring it up.

She wanted Wei Shuyu to accompany her to the Charity Gala.

Jin Yizhu knew full well that for Wei Shuyu, this was pure exploitation.

Using her fame, capitalizing on her experiences—just like when she had flung Wei Shuyu’s resume at the meeting.

The difference was, that time Wei Shuyu had offered herself up for it, while this time, she was asking Wei Shuyu to let herself be used.

“Go ahead.”

Wei Shuyu sat across from her, set down her knife and fork, and lowered her gaze to meet hers.

“What is it that’s troubling you so much?”

The restaurant glowed with warm yellow lights.

The soft illumination fell on Wei Shuyu’s face, making even her expression appear exceptionally gentle.

She said nothing more, simply watching Jin Yizhu quietly, awaiting her request.

Under that gaze, Jin Yizhu felt that no matter what she said, Wei Shuyu would agree.

Mesmerized by those eyes, Jin Yizhu spoke. “There’s a Charity Gala…”

She paused, observing Wei Shuyu’s expression. Logically, Wei Shuyu should know what it was about from those words alone.

She had seen Wei Shuyu’s resume. Wei Shuyu had attended exhibitions since university and held solo shows after graduation, naturally participating in all sorts of banquets.

Sometimes, Jin Yizhu wondered if she had taken even a slight interest in art earlier, whether she might have met Wei Shuyu sooner.

They might have crossed paths at one of those events, shared a drink, chatted idly, and become casual acquaintances.

No, she didn’t want casual acquaintances.

She wanted Wei Shuyu to hold her in her heart, to look only at her. In that light, wasn’t the current situation better?

“You want me to go with you?”

Wei Shuyu broke the silence with a direct question.

“What kind of gala?”

“I didn’t look into the details. I’ll have my assistant send you the info tomorrow.”

Jin Yizhu never paid much attention to such things. For her, various banquets were just part of work. If attendance was mandatory, she would skim the theme and dress code beforehand, treating it like conference prep.

“There will be many people from the cultural field attending, so I hope you’ll come with me.”

“Many from the cultural field, huh…”

A meaningful smile flickered across Wei Shuyu’s face.

To think she had believed she wouldn’t see those annoying peers for a while, only to encounter them again after less than two years.

“Jin Yizhu, do you know what this means?”

“I…”

Jin Yizhu took a deep breath. She didn’t want to explain, nor did she expect Wei Shuyu to miss the implications.

“I know. I owe you a favor.”

“You owe me more than just one favor.”

Wei Shuyu looked at her with a half-smile, leaning back into her chair. The dim light cast faint shadows on her face, making it hard for Jin Yizhu to read her expression.

“Jin Yizhu, having me accompany you to a gala is a huge favor.”

Of course she knew what prompted Jin Yizhu to make such a request.

It was that resume, her words allowing Jin Yizhu to flaunt it and savor their reactions.

It was her turning herself into Jin Yizhu’s bargaining chip, a weapon against the world.

When she said those words, she hadn’t minded being used as one.

But she wanted her value to leave a deep scar in Jin Yizhu’s heart.

Even if you don’t like me, you can’t forget me.

At this point, Wei Shuyu had a faint premonition. Rather than calling Jin Yizhu straight, it was more accurate to say she had never understood emotions.

Her world was terrifyingly pure—a mere collection of likes, dislikes, conquests, and possessions. Nothing else existed.

What she wanted was for Jin Yizhu to step out of that purity into chaos with her, to share an indefinable love.

She didn’t think she could achieve it.

If so, better to keep her forever in debt.

That way, you can’t leave me.

“You know… I don’t really like these kinds of events.”

Wei Shuyu lifted her head to look at the person before her. Her usually gentle eyes gradually hardened.

She clasped her hands over her chest in a clear defensive posture.

“Jin Yizhu, do I really have to go?”

“Yeah.”

Jin Yizhu answered without hesitation, decisively.

“I need you there with me, or it’ll be hard to negotiate terms with them.”

She didn’t know what Wei Shuyu was thinking. She only felt that since Wei Shuyu hadn’t outright refused, there was hope.

Lately, Jin Yizhu had been through so many games of strategy that she was acutely sensitive to shifts in atmosphere and the exchange of interests.

She wasn’t entirely sure what Wei Shuyu wanted, relying purely on instinct: no refusal meant room for discussion.

She might have to give something, but surely Wei Shuyu wouldn’t demand anything unacceptable?

“Use me to bolster your presence, then negotiate with others, huh.”

Wei Shuyu sighed, her tone carrying an ambiguous edge.

“Jin Yizhu, I don’t mind you using me…”

But can you bear the price of wielding me as a weapon?

“What do you want?”

Jin Yizhu asked. She understood equivalent exchange well, yet when it came to negotiating with Wei Shuyu, she felt a twinge of reluctance.

Why? Could she not accept Wei Shuyu asking something of her?

Or did she hope for unconditional help? But that was impossible.

“Anything I can do, I promise.”

Wei Shuyu stared at her steadily and shook her head.

Can you promise your body to me?

She didn’t voice it. Under Jin Yizhu’s puzzled gaze, she lowered her head slightly and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll go with you.”