Chapter 90

Jiang Sisi wasn’t about to let her off so easily.

She grinned wickedly, utterly shameless as she said, “What’s wrong with here? I rather like it.”

“From now on, every time I watch a movie here, I’ll think of you.”

Whenever it came to moments like this, Leng Xiang was utterly defenseless, letting Jiang Sisi toy with her however she pleased.

She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, feeling her skirt being pushed up until the long fabric bunched entirely around her waist, exposing her two long, straight legs.

Her legs were long and fair, the smooth, silky skin impossible to stop touching. Jiang Sisi caressed her from calf all the way up.

Jiang Sisi looked up at her face and reached to pull away the hand covering Leng Xiang’s eyes.

Leng Xiang resisted at first, but with a little force, she relented.

With her eyes still closed, a patch of red bloomed at the corners.

Jiang Sisi’s heart ached at the sight. She asked, “Can you handle it?”

Leng Xiang cracked her eyes open slightly and nodded.

Her eyes resembled a pool of spring water; gazing into them made everything melt away.

Jiang Sisi kissed her lips and said, “If it feels wrong at any point, just tell me, okay?”

Tears shimmered in Leng Xiang’s eyes as she nodded.

Jiang Sisi’s hand slid downward, reaching her kneecap, where she applied a bit of pressure.

Her gaze darkened as she took in everything before her.

She licked her lips and leaned down to kiss the snowy expanse of Leng Xiang’s thigh.

Leng Xiang’s body jolted sharply, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

The sensation was utterly unprecedented.

It felt like something inside her was rampaging wildly, desperate for release but finding none. She seemed to hear the trickle of water, felt a sticky wetness between her fingers—and there, in that unspeakable place, a strange stickiness too. It was uncomfortable, yet not unpleasant.

She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling.

Suddenly, she felt something licking her fingers—soft and a little damp.

She glanced toward her hand and her eyes widened in shock. She yanked her fingers back.

Xiangxiang had appeared out of nowhere, tilting its head innocently and blankly at her, its glassy bead-like eyes tinged with grievance, as if wondering why she’d pulled away.

Xiangxiang meowed and padded forward a few steps, its soft paw touching Leng Xiang’s shoulder, seemingly intent on climbing onto her.

Leng Xiang: “…”

Having the clueless Xiangxiang watch something like this was mortifying.

What if it corrupted the cat?

Leng Xiang called softly, “Jiang Sisi, your cat.”

Jiang Sisi lifted her head from the warm, fragrant softness and saw that Xiangxiang already had one paw on Leng Xiang’s shoulder.

Xiangxiang: “Meow!”

Jiang Sisi: “…”

She’d been thinking the atmosphere was perfect that day, and since Leng Xiang wasn’t refusing, maybe they could advance things a bit further.

But with Xiangxiang’s interruption, there was no way to continue.

“Xiangxiang,” Jiang Sisi sighed heavily, “Mommy’s raised you this long, so why do you always ruin Mommy’s good times?”

Xiangxiang: “Meow QAQ!”

Leng Xiang sat up on the carpet and burst out laughing with a “pfft.”

Her eyes were still red at the corners, her lips red, her skin flushed pink everywhere.

Leng Xiang said, “I told you not to stay here, but you wouldn’t listen.”

Jiang Sisi: “How was I supposed to know…”

Halfway through her sentence, enlightenment struck, and she suddenly understood what Leng Xiang meant.

She grinned and said, “Alright, then not here. Let’s go somewhere else.”

…

The next morning at ten, Leng Xiang woke from her dreams.

She’d slept deeply, and upon waking, she felt disoriented, unsure of the time or day.

She rarely slept so soundly; lately, her good nights seemed to happen only when sharing a bed with Jiang Sisi.

She sat up in bed, and the covers slipped slowly from her shoulders, revealing a scattering of red marks.

Those were the kisses Jiang Sisi had left on her the night before.

Not just her shoulders—her entire body was covered in such traces.

Last night, after Jiang Sisi had kissed her thighs on the living room carpet, they’d moved to the bedroom, where Jiang Sisi suggested kissing higher up.

Leng Xiang had resisted a little, to no avail, and in the end, her skirt was removed.

They’d come so close to the final step.

If Jiang Sisi had kept going, Leng Xiang probably wouldn’t have stopped her.

But Jiang Sisi had held back.

She’d kissed Leng Xiang’s lips: “We’ll save that for next time. You’re tired.”

She had been tired. Hearing that eased her mind, and she’d fallen straight asleep.

Recalling this, Leng Xiang blushed and buried herself in the covers.

Jiang Sisi wasn’t in bed; she seemed to need little sleep. No matter how late she stayed up, she always rose early.

After washing up, Leng Xiang went downstairs to find breakfast already laid out.

A simple sandwich and a glass of milk, with a broccoli floret artfully arranged on the sandwich plate—photo-worthy for social media.

Leng Xiang said in surprise, “Didn’t you say you can’t cook?”

Jiang Sisi replied, “The sandwich is from the convenience store outside, the milk from the fridge. I just heated it and plated it.”

She added, “The broccoli was scavenged from the back of the fridge. I don’t even know how it got there. Might be toxic—don’t eat it.”

Leng Xiang: “…”

All that glitters isn’t gold—that was Jiang Sisi.

Reluctantly finishing the sandwich to tide her over, Leng Xiang checked the time and decided it was time for lunch prep. She headed to the kitchen and opened the fridge.

Aside from beer and drinks, it was empty at a glance.

Unwilling to give up, she rummaged in the corners and pulled out another broccoli floret.

Leng Xiang: “…”

She tossed the last broccoli into the trash, checked the freezer drawer, and found a bag of frozen dumplings.

Finally, something edible—until she saw the expiration date. Past due.

Leng Xiang: “…”

Jiang Sisi hovered nearby the whole time, watching her rummage through the fridge.

Leng Xiang emptied it completely and found nothing.

She no longer hoped for a rice canister; Jiang Sisi probably wouldn’t even recognize one.

Leng Xiang asked sincerely, “What’s the point of having a double-door giant fridge at home if it’s useless? Might as well donate it to kids in disaster areas.”

Jiang Sisi said innocently, “We don’t cook here. I haven’t paid the gas bill in ages.”

She added, “Let’s eat out. Making it ourselves is such a hassle.”

Leng Xiang said coldly, “No. I’m eating at your place today.”

Jiang Sisi: “…”

Leng Xiang thought for three seconds and declared, “You’re coming with me to buy groceries.”

Jiang Sisi: “…”

At least it was comforting that Jiang Sisi knew where the nearest supermarket was.

Leng Xiang usually cooked at home too. Back when she wasn’t famous, going out was no issue, but now as a top-tier actress, it was inconvenient, so she mostly relied on Shen Cheng and Wang Linlin to bring ingredients when they visited.

Before heading out, Jiang Sisi protested, “I can have Tan Ya deliver them.”

Leng Xiang said, “No, you’re going yourself.”

The way she dragged Jiang Sisi out the door was like a parent hauling a reluctant kid to school—ruthless and decisive.

If they were going to live together in the future, how could she not even know how to buy groceries, let alone cook?

If cooking was truly impossible, fine—but at least she should learn to shop.

Wearing masks and baseball caps, Leng Xiang and Jiang Sisi entered the small supermarket nearest to the apartment.

It wasn’t crowded at this hour. Leng Xiang pushed the cart, picking through the fresh produce section, while Jiang Sisi reached for a bottle of champagne from the cooler. She wouldn’t get drunk; she just liked the buzz.

But before she could grab it, Leng Xiang smacked her hand away.

Leng Xiang said, “You’re a bar owner—why buy booze? Waste of money.”

Jiang Sisi: “…”

This life was unlivable.

Leng Xiang launched a one-on-one grocery shopping tutorial for Jiang Sisi: how to tell if greens were fresh, how to judge meat quality. Jiang Sisi’s head spun; she remembered nothing, utterly confused.

After half a day, she’d retained zilch.

Seeing her dazed expression, Leng Xiang found it adorable. Glancing around to ensure no one watched, she quickly pecked her lips.

Then her own ears turned red.

Jiang Sisi watched her turn away to focus on the veggies, exposing those red-tipped ears.

Suddenly, grocery shopping seemed fun.

Leng Xiang grabbed just a couple handfuls of greens, a small pack of meat, some eggs, mushrooms, a jin of rice, and small bottles of cooking oil, soy sauce, and a bag of salt. They left the supermarket and returned to the apartment.

Such a meager haul barely filled one shelf in that massive double-door fridge—pitifully sparse.

Jiang Sisi asked, “Why not buy more?”

Leng Xiang: “You gonna cook it?”

Jiang Sisi shook her head: “No.”

Leng Xiang: “Exactly. More would just spoil and waste.”

Leng Xiang washed the wok, lit the stove, and poured in oil with practiced ease.

Luckily, Jiang Sisi had remembered to buy pots, pans, rice cooker, and to hook up the gas.

Once the oil heated, she tossed in the washed greens, stir-fried a few times—expertly done.

Jiang Sisi watched raptly and said, “The three essentials of cohabitation: cooking, laundry, and warming the bed. You’ve cooked for me and warmed my bed. I’ve washed your clothes. See? We’re done. So move in with me.”

Washing a couple pieces of underwear—and not admitting she was taking advantage—yet calling it “helping with laundry.”

Leng Xiang rolled her eyes inwardly, sprinkling salt into the wok as she said, “No.”

Jiang Sisi sounded deeply disappointed: “Really no?”

Leng Xiang: “No.”

Jiang Sisi: “Fine, don’t regret it.”

Leng Xiang: “???”

Over the next twenty minutes of cooking, Jiang Sisi made Leng Xiang fully understand “don’t regret it.”

She nagged relentlessly in her ear for a solid twenty minutes: “Move in with me.” Nearly every minute, on repeat, all while groping the chef-sister shamelessly.

Driven mad, Leng Xiang’s hand shook, and she oversalted the dish.

Fuming, she chased Jiang Sisi out of the kitchen.

That oversalted mushroom stir-fry with meat? Leng Xiang forced Jiang Sisi to eat every bite through tears.

After lunch, Jiang Sisi sprawled on the carpet digesting, while Leng Xiang sat nearby. That’s when the call came from the Love Diary production team, notifying them to head to the Love Cottage that afternoon to prep for tomorrow’s second live episode.

Leng Xiang hung up, feeling a bit dazed.

Ever since getting together with Jiang Sisi, time had lost all meaning; she’d even forgotten about the romance variety show she was filming.

Jiang Sisi said, “I’d forgotten about this show too.”

Leng Xiang fell silent. Same here.

Jiang Sisi flopped onto the carpet: “Don’t wanna film. Quit with me.”

Leng Xiang: “Don’t mess up my money-making gig.”

Jiang Sisi: “I can give you that pittance.”

Leng Xiang: “…”

Nine million, and she called it “pittance.”

Couldn’t comprehend the rich.

Leng Xiang refused flatly and coldly: “No.”

Jiang Sisi lay on the carpet, turning to look at her.

“You’ve said ‘no’ all afternoon. Can’t you say ‘yes’ just once?”

Leng Xiang looked at her: “Yes to what?”

Jiang Sisi smiled: “Wanna kiss?”

Leng Xiang blushed again.

Jiang Sisi kept smiling at her.

Leng Xiang: “Yes.”

That was all Jiang Sisi had waited for. She sat up and leaned in for the kiss.

They sat on the carpet, sharing a sweet, honeyed kiss laced with the warmth of daily life.