Chapter 35

The video call continued.

Shi Xiu looked at Shang Jinyue, expressionless.

Shang Jinyue felt a stab of guilt, her heart hammering against her chest.

She had never imagined this would be exposed.

Deception was never a good thing, especially given the precarious state of her relationship with Shi Xiu right now.

Shi Xiu had asked her several times before, and each time Shang Jinyue had casually said no.

She had truly believed she could hide it from Shi Xiu.

If Feng Xinyang hadn’t shown up.

But now, thinking back, even if Feng Xinyang hadn’t exposed her face-to-face, she wouldn’t have been able to hide it from Shi Xiu for much longer.

As soon as Shi Xiu had any contact with people from school, she would find out she hadn’t been to class this week.

And what would happen once she found out?

Shang Jinyue had no contingency plan for this.

Shi Xiu’s patience for Shang Jinyue was limited. She saw the girl remaining silent for a long time and spoke first: “What’s wrong? You had plenty to say when you were lying to me. Cat got your tongue now that you’ve been caught?”

Shi Xiu knew that silence of Shang Jinyue’s all too well. She spoke coldly, the events of the past flashing vividly in her mind.

Right now, Shi Xiu was like a porcupine, reflexively bristling with quills at this silence.

She wasn’t about to indulge this habit of Shang Jinyue’s. If she wasn’t going to answer, then she’d just hang up.

“I’m sorry. Actually, after I went back to my dorm from your place that day, I got sick the next day.”

Just as Shi Xiu was about to do just that, Shang Jinyue’s voice came from the other side of the screen.

This time, Shang Jinyue gave her a response.

But Shi Xiu’s brow remained tightly furrowed.

Her finger still hovered over the hang-up button, listening to Shang Jinyue’s explanation, ready to disconnect at any moment.

Shang Jinyue noticed it too.

The angle Shi Xiu was holding the phone wasn’t quite right, and the hovering finger was slightly visible at the bottom of the screen.

A sense of urgency bloomed in Shang Jinyue’s heart.

It crowded together with her guilt, swelling infinitely inside her, threatening to burst from her throat.

“It wasn’t contagious from you. Something happened at home that night. I didn’t want you to think I got sick because of you and blame yourself, so I didn’t tell you.” Shang Jinyue kept it as simple as possible, masking the family punishment from her grandmother, explaining the reason to Shi Xiu.

“That’s it?” Shi Xiu didn’t believe her.

“If it were just a cold I caught from you, I would have been better long ago,” Shang Jinyue stated.

Shi Xiu watched Shang Jinyue’s calm, candid expression and slowly leaned back against her chair.

This was probably one of the few times Shang Jinyue had articulated her thoughts to her.

But why didn’t Shi Xiu feel particularly happy? Why did her frown deepen instead?

What did she mean, afraid she would blame herself?

Why fabricate an emotion for her?

How well did Shang Jinyue even know her?

“I find that sometimes I really can’t understand the way you think,” Shi Xiu blurted out.

She frowned, looking somewhat exasperated. “It’s just being sick. What’s there to hide? You lied to me because you were afraid I’d blame myself. Is self-blame really worse than anger?”

Indeed, it wasn’t.

But Shang Jinyue instinctively wanted to avoid such an emotion. It was as if, in her subconscious, not generating that emotion was the only safe option.

“But Shang Jinyue, you’ve made me feel both guilty and angry right now.” Shi Xiu looked at the silent Shang Jinyue, her arms crossed over her chest, not sure if she was speaking to the girl of the present or the twenty-seven-year-old version of her. “Please, can you just be a little more honest?”

Listening to Shi Xiu’s words, Shang Jinyue’s eyes slowly lifted to meet hers.

Her gaze seemed devoid of emotion, yet seemed to say:

She was afraid she would cause trouble for Shi Xiu.

She was afraid Shi Xiu would find her troublesome.

If she couldn’t even handle something like this, if she was this useless, how could she ever get close to Shi Xiu?

Her lips pressed tightly together, Shang Jinyue told Shi Xiu in a very soft voice: “I just wanted to handle my own affairs.”

“Shang Jinyue, no one is stopping you from handling your own affairs. But honestly, this behavior of yours—clamming up just to deal with things—is really hard to accept,” Shi Xiu followed up.

It was as if this incident had opened a floodgate for her. The blunt truth made Shang Jinyue’s heart lurch.

The first thought that popped into her head was: As expected, a person like her wasn’t worthy of being loved.

“Shi Xiu, I’m sorry, I…”

“I’m not venting my emotions. Saying sorry once just now was enough.”

For some reason, hearing Shang Jinyue say “I’m sorry” again, Shi Xiu felt a pang in her chest.

She just looked at Shang Jinyue on the video feed. The young girl’s adolescent eyes were filled with dejection.

This person wasn’t full of high spirits, wasn’t arrogantly self-possessed.

She was just being excessively cautious, seemingly placing great importance on the words she had just spoken.

Ultimately, she was only seventeen right now.

Whenever Shi Xiu thought of this, her heart softened considerably.

She thought perhaps she could never truly dislike seventeen-year-old Shang Jinyue.

Perhaps the very beginning of a relationship is the hardest to forget.

They didn’t have all the miserable matters that came later. All she had back then was her own headlong rush, her vision filled with rose-tinted filters.

Sunlight spilled into the classroom. The long hair that hung down when Shang Jinyue explained problems to her always carried a faint fragrance, warmed by the sun.

Shi Xiu thought maybe she could help Shang Jinyue, help her fix this inability to communicate properly.

She admitted she sometimes had a bit of a hero complex, thinking she could actually save someone.

Like seventeen-year-old Shang Jinyue.

Perhaps.

Consider it doing a good deed for the future love of Shang Jinyue’s life.

So they wouldn’t follow in her own footsteps.

“Shang Jinyue, I just want to ask you something. Have you ever thought about this: if you can’t even trust the person closest to you, what else do you have to rely on?” Shi Xiu looked at Shang Jinyue very seriously, asking a question she hadn’t had the chance to ask in her past life.

The girl’s gaze was too intense. Shang Jinyue felt her heartbeat suddenly skip a beat.

If Shang Xiunian’s words—”You don’t know how to love someone”—were just a cruel, heart-piercing tactic, then Shi Xiu’s words were a solid, jarring blow to her head.

The girl’s voice was laced with helplessness, her eyes carrying dissatisfaction.

No one but Shi Xiu had ever said such things to Shang Jinyue.

For a very long time, Shang Jinyue had believed that exposing herself to the outside world was a terrifying thing.

She was a moth trapped in a cocoon. Expensive silk threads had wound around her, layer after layer, sealing her within a luxurious house.

No one had ever shown Shang Jinyue unconditional kindness.

Only Shi Xiu.

Only she was harmless to Shang Jinyue.

But then, this very person said to Shang Jinyue: “You don’t need to open your heart to me. After all, we’re just classmates. I can understand if you’re not completely honest with me.”

It felt as if something had slipped from her grasp, making Shang Jinyue clench her fist tightly.

But it was futile.

After all this time, in Shi Xiu’s heart, she was still just a classmate.

Perhaps also due to the events of her past life, Shi Xiu wasn’t so obsessive about getting an answer from Shang Jinyue anymore.

Just looking at the person sitting opposite her, she still felt a weight in her heart, and she realized she had spoken too quickly earlier.

Fortunately, Shang Jinyue hadn’t picked up on it.

Shi Xiu gradually steadied her own mindset: “I’m not trying to force you or anything. But isn’t it true that problems are solved when they’re talked about?”

“Take the most recent example. If you had just spoken up this time, Little Dog and I wouldn’t only be meeting via video call.”

“Woof~” Hearing the keyword ‘Little Dog,’ Grape immediately lifted her head and trotted into the camera frame, wagging her tail at Shi Xiu.

“See, even Little Dog is more honest than you.” Looking at Grape, who had come over on her own, a layer of inexplicable bitterness seeped up from the bottom of Shi Xiu’s heart. “At least she’ll say she misses me.”

The girl’s voice was very soft, so light it seemed a puff of wind could blow it away.

Shang Jinyue listened quietly. A frantic voice screamed in her wooden heart, as if trying to alert her to something.

I miss you too.

I miss you too!!

I miss you too…

But such words, held back by her lightly pursed lips, stuck in her throat.

She began her conditioned self-simulation again, visualizing the scene of Shi Xiu hanging up the video call after hearing her say “I miss you.”

Because she was too afraid of losing her.

She even spoke with such caution.

“I understand,” Shang Jinyue nodded.

It wasn’t a perfunctory answer.

For all these years, no one had ever told Shang Jinyue, or promised her, these things.

She was a program meticulously designed by Shang Xiunian. She had never had “emotions” programmed into her.

This was the first time she had heard such words.

It was Shi Xiu who told her.

In the first year after their separation.

Shang Jinyue felt regret. She felt this conversation with Shi Xiu had come so late.

But if it had really happened in her past life, she probably wouldn’t have had the patience to listen to Shi Xiu say these things.

She was a faulty program.

And this program was currently feeling the rules it had always clung to wavering. The chains were being shaken, clanking loudly.

“I’ll try,” Shang Jinyue said.

Somehow, Shi Xiu felt like there was something wrong with her phone screen.

Why did Shang Jinyue’s gaze look so serious, so intensely earnest that it felt almost dazzling?

But when Shi Xiu looked more closely, Shang Jinyue’s face was still as expressionless as ever. It made Shi Xiu wonder if her words earlier had been in vain.

Forget it. She had done her part.

As for whether Shang Jinyue wanted to change, or whether she had even listened, that was beyond her control.

Thinking this in silence, Shi Xiu glanced at the call timer. “Then you should rest early. It’s getting late.”

“Shi Xiu.” Shang Jinyue seemed to have something else to say.

“What is it?” Shi Xiu’s hand paused again.

“Well, Little Dog says goodnight to you.”

On the other side of the screen, Shang Jinyue picked up Grape and waved the little dog’s paw, saying goodnight to Shi Xiu.

Unsure if she was looking at the little dog or the faintly smiling person behind it, Shi Xiu’s eyes glazed over for a moment.

In the quiet of the night, the sound of a heartbeat was distinct.

Shi Xiu looked at Grape, and also at Shang Jinyue behind her. Just before hanging up, she hastily replied: “Goodnight.”

.

After that night, Shang Jinyue felt her relationship with Shi Xiu had grown just a little closer.

The next day was the fifteenth day of the eighth lunar month, the date of the Shang family’s Mid-Autumn Feast banquet.

Shang Jinyue’s youthful heart, feelings delayed for over twenty years, had been looking forward to Shi Xiu’s arrival since the morning.

Shang Xiunian returned at noon and brought a qipao for Shang Jinyue.

She was always keen on dressing Shang Jinyue up beautifully. She instructed someone to help Shang Jinyue change, indifferent to whatever outfit Shang Jinyue had painstakingly chosen the night before.

Daylight filtered through the slit of the skirt, intimately gliding over Shang Jinyue’s pale, shapely legs.

But a slight flutter of the skirt would expose her bruised, still-unhealed calf.

The bruises were ferocious and horrifying, like a demon crawling out of an abyss.

The sun watched from the window, wanting to frown.

But before it could, smooth, evenly-woven silk stockings slid over her calves.

Unhurriedly, Shang Jinyue concealed that unsightly bruise.

The stockings wrapped around her legs, accentuating their delicate curves.

The skirt swayed gently with her steps, her narrow waist showing no excess flesh.

She was still the picture of elegance. Delicate kitten heels lifted her feet, her gait graceful. There wasn’t the slightest sign that she had been punished by Shang Xiunian days before, unable to get out of bed.

“Little Yue has truly grown into an even greater beauty.”

When Shang Jinyue emerged from her room, some guests had already arrived at the manor.

She listened to the crowd’s compliments directed at her, which were actually flattery for Shang Xiunian, greeting each one with impeccable etiquette and flawless words.

“Old Madam, the Shi family has arrived.” The housekeeper aunt announced to Shang Xiunian.

Shang Jinyue, standing nearby, gently touched the pendant hanging from her bracelet.

“Old Madam! You look even younger than you did at the end of last year!”

The opening was Cen Yuan’s effusive enthusiasm, like a social butterfly. Shi Wendong led his family of four inside.

Shang Jinyue looked over from beside Shang Xiunian, only to see that the entire family was dressed in a single color palette.

Cen Anning and Shi Xiu stood together. Daylight traced the indigo-blue satin of their skirts, leaving specks of light on the fabric.

Seen from a distance, they looked just like a perfectly matched couple.