Chapter 59: Opening One’s Heart

Emerging from the night market district, the clamor of fireworks and street food faded behind them. The quiet streets lay ahead under the glow of streetlights, where the shops’ pale yellow glass display windows were adorned with colorful ribbons and stickers, evoking the festive spirit. Qixi was just around the corner.

Zhong Jia quietly withdrew her gaze, a touch of apology in her voice. “Xie Yingnian, it looks like I won’t be able to spend Valentine’s Day with you.”

Every holiday since they’d gotten together had been a first, and she felt a real pang of regret at missing this one.

“Recording the show?”

“Yeah…”

Xie Yingnian’s tone was calm and steady. “No worries. You’ll pay back every single debt you owe me.”

Someone’s soft earlobe brushed against her shoulder. Xie Yingnian glanced at the head that had lolled onto it, wondering if her words had failed to cheer the other woman up. “Mm?”

“My ear… it’s hot.”

Xie Yingnian: “…”

She cleared her throat lightly. She hadn’t expected anyone to express embarrassment in such an adorably captivating way. Moonlight spilled over them like a warm embrace, threatening to melt her heart entirely.

“Going public has its perks too. Before, you definitely couldn’t have carried me on your back like this, right?” Zhong Jia said. “I suppose I owe a thanks to that gossip reporter from the other day. Now we can hold hands, hug, and kiss wherever we want.”

Xie Yingnian’s eyes were half-lowered, her emotions unreadable as she gave a faint hum of acknowledgment.

“The malls are probably all closed by now. Where’s your car parked?”

Zhong Jia nestled against Xie Yingnian’s shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of her wild jasmine perfume. She squinted contentedly, another yawn slipping out.

“There’s a parking lot up ahead.” Xie Yingnian’s pace was unhurried, matching the gentle breeze as she answered softly.

The girl wrapped her arms around her neck, her eyes growing misty with sleep. Her voice, stripped of its usual clarity by exhaustion, turned soft and sweet. “Aren’t you tired?”

Xie Yingnian: “Then get down and walk on your own.”

“…Mmm, I’m asleep.” Zhong Jia nuzzled her hair, yawning again.

“Fake concern.” Xie Yingnian sighed in mock exasperation.

“You have such good stamina, and I’m not heavy.” Zhong Jia mumbled. “You really used to be an athlete, huh? I haven’t even heard you breathing hard.”

Perhaps it was psychological suggestion, but as Xie Yingnian felt Zhong Jia’s weight on her back, she seemed lighter than she had been during their time on set.

“You haven’t heard it? When?”

“Now, or when else?” Zhong Jia blurted out, then froze in realization. Even with her slow reactions, she could tell from that meaningful laugh exactly what moment Xie Yingnian was referring to.

This shameless woman!

“Not breathing hard?”

“…You were.” Zhong Jia offered her sincere assessment. The heat that had just subsided seemed to creep back up. “And it sounded really good.”

Xie Yingnian: “Not as good as yours. So please, Teacher Zhong, keep working hard. Don’t just focus on one spot—that’ll make me think someone didn’t wean properly as a kid.”

She delivered the risqué remark with her usual cool composure, unflinching and unfazed. It wasn’t the first time.

Zhong Jia recalled the photo of Xie Yingnian wandering through the rainy bamboo groves at Breezy Temple in a white Daoist robe. The netizens’ comments about her otherworldly grace and ascetic purity, the exes’ complaints about emotional starvation—she was nothing but a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Nipping at ears, necks, shoulders… Risking the chance of being taken right then and there, Zhong Jia demonstrated her newfound skills to Xie Yingnian: It’s just oral technique, right? I’ll learn it properly.

Uncharacteristically, Xie Yingnian tolerated this “knowledge transfer” turned opportunism, even when Zhong Jia’s hand sneaked into her collar for mischief.

Entering the empty parking lot, Xie Yingnian steadied the person on her back with her left hand while fishing out her car keys with her right to unlock the vehicle. It beeped once, and the restless hand immediately abandoned that tempting mound of soft white flesh. Zhong Jia released her, hopped to the ground, and dashed toward the flashing headlights.

Her target was clear: the passenger door flew open, and she tumbled into the seat.

Dangling her keys, Xie Yingnian watched the fleeing figure. She wasn’t sure whether to praise her quick reflexes or lament her self-sabotage.

A bit of movement had shaken off some of the numbness from her fatigue, so when she heard the door open, alarm bells rang in Zhong Jia’s head. She frantically tried to clamber over the gap between the driver’s seat and passenger seat to the back.

The hasty plan was predictably foiled. Xie Yingnian grabbed her jacket collar like one catching a cat and twisted her shoulders to pull her back.

The car’s interior light was off. The headlights illuminated the iron railing of a flower bed, casting faint reflections on the windows.

Their silhouettes blurred together, but their eyes gleamed brightly as they locked gazes.

Xie Yingnian cupped Zhong Jia’s chin and kissed her lips without preamble.

Fresh from being left boneless just moments ago, Zhong Jia thought she’d improved a little. But one deep kiss left her breathless again. No AC on—it was stuffy, and soon she was sweating.

In those brief minutes, all the tofu she’d copped was repaid double. Her jacket slipped halfway off, and the T-shirt beneath was the last line of defense, now falling.

Zhong Jia hugged that slender waist in return, instinctively clutching her belt tighter. Moments later, the warmth of Xie Yingnian’s palm pressed over it.

Her trembling lashes were kissed gently. Xie Yingnian chuckled, her tone understanding. “More eager than me? Then take it off yourself.”

The girl beneath her panted raggedly, eyes fluttering rapidly, lips bitten tight—as if that command had flipped some sensitive switch.

“…Didn’t you say… it was dirty?”

“I’ve got disinfectant wipes.”

Outside the empty windows, the white car rocked slightly, then dipped suddenly.

Take it off yourself, put it back on yourself—she’d never met anyone so willing to kill but not bury the body. Bad woman, wicked woman. Learning from the experience, Zhong Jia curled into the corner of the back seat, avoiding even eye contact through the rearview mirror.

Satisfied, Xie Yingnian saw no need for a post-mortem lecture. She efficiently removed the increasingly frequently cleaned passenger seat cover and tossed it into the trunk.

Once back in the driver’s seat, she gripped the steering wheel and paused, not starting the engine.

Xie Yingnian wondered if she’d properly stowed the medicine at home. Zhong Jia asked cautiously, “What’s wrong?”

Her thought process was worth dissecting—her sense of smell must be off too. Not detecting the trap was one thing, but offering up her remaining half-life willingly?

“…Is your car broken?”

Xie Yingnian propped her head on one hand, rubbed her nose, held back for a long moment, then couldn’t suppress the laugh. She cleared her throat. “Miss Zhong, we’ll save on lube at most. Not to that extent—you think it’s the flood?”

A square black shadow hurtled from the corner of her eye. Xie Yingnian had anticipated it, catching the thrown pillow and tucking it behind her waist as a lumbar support.

On the drive back, Zhong Jia resolved to play mute—say nothing, make no mistakes. Listen to music, scroll Moments, avoid being outmaneuvered by this scheming, high-level seductress. But Xie Yingnian was even more composed, waiting silently at red lights without even touching her phone.

It was past two in the morning. After practice and nearly getting dragged into some chaebol drama, Zhong Jia was exhausted—possibly played into exhaustion.

Shows that lasted two hours on air often took two or three days to record. Even after her parts, she had to serve as background for others, plus extra promo work. These days, even legit music variety shows played the fan circle game. Her new fans were enthusiastic, snagging her a few ad deals.

Her eyelids weighed a thousand pounds, but Zhong Jia fought sleep to see where Xie Yingnian lived—what size place, warm or cool decor, were her uncle and aunt home? Was showing up unannounced rude?

She’d never heard Xie Yingnian mention family. Was that hereditary disease Shi Cainran used to scare her real—would she not live long?

Wilder thoughts had crossed her mind. Xie Yingnian used to have that kidney-deficient look, maybe muscular dystrophy? But she doubted the woman had issues there.

What was the illness?

They’d done everything couples do; everyone knew their relationship. They seemed intimate, yet Zhong Jia’s knowledge of Xie Yingnian was superficial.

Xie Yingnian, don’t I deserve you opening your heart to me?

In moments like these, Zhong Jia felt tormented, her emotions tangled—not so much wronged by lack of trust, but preemptively saddened.

She rarely volunteered her past to the public. Sure, celebrities fed curiosity, but she’d rather share something else.

Not the drab, warmth-scarce years filled with indifference and bullying. The light she yearned for in her heart couldn’t pierce the darkness, leaving those years forever in cold grays even as an adult.

And Xie Yingnian? Was your past even harder?

How can I heal your old wounds?

The screen dimmed. The car interior grew shadowy. Xie Yingnian glanced back to see the yawning woman finally succumb, slumping sideways in sleep.

After a stretch, she parked neatly in the nearest spot, climbed into the back, gently laid the sleep-deprived girl flat, and covered her with a thin blanket.

Zhong Jia’s chest rose and fell softly, her breaths long and even. Xie Yingnian watched her for a while, lips curving faintly in a silent smile.

The roads were empty. If not for the distance, they’d have arrived sooner.

The villa district wasn’t densely packed with buildings. It had all the necessary amenities, excellent landscaping, and—most importantly—top-notch security.

Xie Yingnian drove straight along the main avenue, skirting half of the man-made lake before slowing down and pulling into the attached garage.

She opened the car door and said, “Wake up, we’re here.”

Zhong Jia was sleeping deeply, murmuring softly in response.

The woman reached back, using the black hair tie on her wrist to gather her long hair into a loose ponytail. Then she leaned down and gently scooped her into her arms.

Xie Yingnian’s home lacked any warmth. The spacious villa was furnished in a stark industrial style that felt frigid. Zhou Chun had visited a few times and complained that it was too cold; unless it was something urgent, she never came back.

She rarely invited friends over. Most of her connections were mere acquaintances. Cui Ming and Chang Xiaosui, both tied down by their office jobs, had their own packed schedules. Now that they were older and had money to spare, they gathered even less often.

The silver metal elevator doors reflected the woman’s serene face. Xie Yingnian glanced down at the sleeping figure in her arms and reached out to press the down button.