Chapter 31

Shen Jingsong woke in an unfamiliar room. Sea-blue curtains patterned with ship wheels filtered the faint sunlight from outside the window. She knew it was still early.

She wore a soft cotton sleep dress, its thin fabric clinging gently to her skin. Before coming to the Pei Family, she had imagined she might stay over—most likely in Xia Zhuxi’s room. Sharing a bed would make the cotton’s touch even more comfortable.

Shen Jingsong longed to explore the places that had shaped Xia Zhuxi’s life before they met. It was a subtle sensation, intimate and novel, like stepping into fragments of someone else’s abandoned time, gathering the pieces of her growth.

Warmth bloomed in her chest. The steady rhythm of sleeping breaths brushed her tender skin. When she awoke, Xia Zhuxi lay cradled in her arms, her cheek sunk deep into the fragrant softness. She shifted now and then, seeking a comfier spot, her nose exhaling warm puffs as she burrowed in deeper.

Shen Jingsong gently stroked her hair, her gaze tender as moonlight on a spring. Gazing at Xia Zhuxi like this, she could almost glimpse the shadow of that little girl from ten years ago. The sharp lines of her face merged with the chubby-cheeked image from memory. A soft smile curved Shen Jingsong’s lips as she leaned down, brushing them against the crown of Xia Zhuxi’s head. Her nostrils filled with that uniquely warm scent of hers.

Like sun-warmed grass, beachside sweet oranges, cardamom cream lingering at the corners of her mouth.

Shen Jingsong ran her fingers through Xia Zhuxi’s long hair, one stroke at a time, holding her protectively close. Even if she was worshipped like a goddess on the racetrack, crowned and proud at the pinnacle of the world, stripped of her fierce resolve she was simply a girl—a baby sleeping soundly in her arms.

Xia Zhuxi nuzzled closer, her flushed cheek peeking from the soft curve of pale roundness.

So adorable.

Shen Jingsong’s heart turned utterly to mush. She poked it lightly with a finger—smooth and springy, like egg white poached in a hot spring.

She stifled a chuckle and pulled out her phone to snap a photo, then stopped herself. Taking such an intimate picture without permission wouldn’t be right. No getting greedy.

Instead, she simply watched in quiet contentment as the light grew brighter, bleaching the sea-blue curtains pale. Finally, she decided it was time to get up.

She slipped out of bed without waking Xia Zhuxi, checked the time, and headed downstairs to make breakfast.

Xia Zhuxi was used to having her buttered fried eggs every morning. Yesterday, she’d asked Auntie if she could use the kitchen.

Shen Jingsong descended the stairs softly, draped in an ice-silk cardigan, a breeze lifting the gossamer-thin hem of her dress.

Xia Zhuxi’s choker rested just below her collarbone, its soft white expanse near her heart bearing a faint red imprint—the shape of a snowflake.

A single crimson bloom amid the snow, vivid and alluring.

At the foot of the stairs stood Pei Ziying, tilting her head back to sip iced water. Spotting Shen Jingsong, she crossed her arms, glass in hand.

“Your casual style’s gone this direction now?”

Shen Jingsong arched a delicate brow, glancing at Pei Ziying. “What else?”

Pei Ziying lifted her arm, pointing. “That mark on your chest.” The red snowflake. “Her doing?”

Shen Jingsong glanced down, but Pei Ziying blocked her view.

Pei Ziying stepped half a pace closer. “Just putting on an act before? Not the pure maiden type anymore?”

Shen Jingsong flashed a bright smile. “Sister Ziying, you should call me your little sister-in-law.”

Pei Ziying let out a scoffing laugh, lips parting to retort—when Xiao Yun bounced over from the guest room in a navel-baring miniskirt. “Senpai~ Wanna do some morning exercise together—?”

Pei Ziying dropped her arm. Shen Jingsong walked straight past, smiling at the newcomer. “Good morning, Xiao Yun. Want a sandwich?”

Xiao Yun blinked, startled by the attention, and glanced at Pei Ziying before replying. “Thanks, but no need. I’m heading out to eat with Ziying.”

Shen Jingsong gave them both a smile and turned toward the kitchen.

As she stepped inside, she faintly caught voices from the hallway:

“What were you just saying to your little sister-in-law?”

“Asking how her stay was going.”

“Haha~ For real? You actually care about her.”

“Don’t I care about you?”

“I need you to care a whole lot more—”

~~~

The Pei spouses were off playing golf and wouldn’t return until noon, so breakfast was just for two.

The Pei Family’s kitchen had an old integrated stove, nothing like the one at Xia Zhuxi’s home—awkward to use.

Shen Jingsong lined the pan with oil-absorbing paper. The first egg came out a bit overdone, so she set it aside and saved the prettier one for Xia Zhuxi.

She plated the sandwiches just as her phone rang.

Xia Zhuxi’s voice came through in a sleepy panic, laced with a hint of babyish whine—she clearly wasn’t fully awake yet. “Sister Jingsong, where’d you go?” She sniffled. “I just opened my eyes and saw the stuffed doll. Thought you’d really turned into Squirrel Girl. Mmm.”

When Shen Jingsong had gotten out of bed, she’d tucked a squirrel plush into Xia Zhuxi’s arms, worried she’d wake up alone and feel lonely.

She hadn’t expected it to spark a “gold cicada shedding its shell” transformation into Squirrel Girl.

Shen Jingsong couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m in the kitchen.” She poured milk and coffee. “Go brush your teeth properly.”

Xia Zhuxi rustled about over there, evidently slipping into her clothes. “Let me take a look first, then you can go brush your teeth.”

The lush greenery of the courtyard filtered through the window, casting a fresh glow, while the fried eggs in the porcelain dish gleamed golden yellow.

Light footsteps approached, orange hair fluttering with each step.

Shen Jingsong caught the eager embrace.

“Sister Jingsong!” Xia Zhuxi’s eyes lit up at the sight of breakfast. She reached out to touch the lace-trimmed apron tied around Shen Jingsong’s waist. “Did Auntie make this?”

Shen Jingsong gently tucked a stray lock of Xia Zhuxi’s hair back from where it had caught in her collar. “I wanted to make it for you myself.”

Xia Zhuxi nodded with a bright smile. “Okay.”

Shen Jingsong turned her by the shoulders and gave her a light pat. “Go wash up now.”

“I cleaned your earrings last night. They’re right next to the toner.”

Xia Zhuxi was already bounding up the stairs to the second floor. She poked her head back out. “Got it!”

Shen Jingsong peeled the orange into neat segments and arranged them into the shape of a heart.

She studied it for a moment, decided it didn’t look quite right, and rearranged the pieces into a flower.

By lunchtime, everyone else had returned.

Li Han arrived as well.

Shen Jingsong stayed quietly at Xia Zhuxi’s side while Xia Jie made the enthusiastic introductions. Li Han greeted Shen Jingsong with impeccable politeness. “Hello, sister-in-law. I’m Li Han. Xiao Xi is wonderful—you’ll be very happy married to her, I’m sure. Here’s my business card. If you ever need anything, just let your brother-in-law know.”

He had his assistant bring over several gift boxes, filled with skincare products from Paris, perfume, and chocolates.

Shen Jingsong accepted them graciously. “Thank you, brother-in-law.”

Spotting Xiao Yun there too, Li Han promptly sent his assistant on another errand to fetch an extra gift box for her.

Xiao Yun’s face lit up in surprise. “I get a gift too? Thank you, President Li!”

Li Han’s smile was warm and easy. “No need to stand on ceremony. Just call me Big Brother Li. I’m usually away, so I appreciate you keeping Yingying company. She spends so much time alone in her studio, writing scripts—if she has a friend to chat with, it makes all the difference.”

Xiao Yun’s lips curved in a nod, her gaze flicking toward Pei Ziying with a look that lingered just a touch too long. Pei Ziying ignored it entirely.

Shen Jingsong set the gifts by the entryway, planning to load them into the car after dinner.

A red notification dot appeared on her old WeChat account.

The tailor from Zhujun Tailor Shop: Jing Girl, I’m terribly sorry—we just noticed the curve ruler’s markings are worn down. We’ll need to adjust the Bridal Cape’s measurements again. In addition to the sizes you sent before, could you please provide two more peripheral measurements?

Good thing they’d caught it in time.

Shen Jingsong replied: One moment.

She’d need to find a soft measuring tape first. The Pei family probably had one.

Better ask Xiao Xi.

~~~

The wide balcony doors stood open, letting the hot breeze waft into the room.

The man lounged on the leather sofa, his shadow stretching long across the floor.

“You hit me with all this the moment I get back.” Li Han tugged at his tie, his throat working as he swallowed. “Xiao Xi’s already married, Yingying. What exactly are you so worried about? You can tell me—we can talk it through. Did I do something wrong—”

Pei Ziying stood with her arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe. “I’ve told you already: my dreams aren’t realized yet. I don’t want marriage holding me back.”

Li Han bowed his head, silent for a couple of beats before speaking. “I was thrilled when you agreed to get engaged. I promised I’d wait, that everything would be on your terms. But please, share your worries and hesitations with me.”

Pei Ziying shot back, “I already have. I want to direct my script, get it into theaters across the country. What I need right now isn’t a husband—it’s funding to make my dream happen.”

Li Han kept his tone soft and measured. “I get how dedicated you are to your dreams, and I know this project demands serious backing. I’ve already fronted you ten million, Yingying. The corporation’s pivoting to smart tech right now—chip tech is locked up overseas, and it’s bleeding cash. I’ve got limits too. Yingying, can we just shelve the movie for a bit?”

“Then don’t rush me into marriage either.” Pei Ziying strode out of the room. “Xiao Yun’s finally here visiting—I’m spending the evening with her.”

She slammed the door behind her with a bang.

Pei Ziying’s brows knitted tight. Li Han followed up with a message, but she didn’t bother reading it before deleting it outright.

Xiao Yun texted about going shopping; Pei Ziying marked it read and switched on do-not-disturb.

The studio’s account was running dry. Pei Corporation dividends barely covered her day-to-day. At this rate, her film was nothing but a pipe dream.

Pei Ziying fumed.

Stingy, every last one of them.

Why was her study door ajar?

She’d chewed out the new cleaning lady last time for touching it.

Face dark with irritation, Pei Ziying marched over—then stopped dead.

There on the room divider screen, two graceful silhouettes.

The taller figure stood ramrod straight as the slimmer one tilted toward her, drawing slowly closer.

Closer still.

Until they melted together.

Like a lingering kiss.

“Sister Jingsong, want more?”

“I’m good. Do you still want some?”

“Mmm… can I?”

~~~

Pei Ziying went pale as a ghost.

Her nails bit half-moons into her palm.

Hah, newlywed wives, all right—so damn eager?

Doing it in her study, of all places!

Pei Ziying suddenly recalled that morning, when Shen Jingsong swayed with graceful allure, a delicate red mark blooming against her creamy white chest.

That red snowflake was so piercing.

It seared Pei Ziying’s eyes, reigniting the long-buried resentment and fury deep in her heart.

Pei Ziying whipped around in anger, forcing a rigid smile onto her lips.

Someone she’d already tired of playing with.

What was the point of dancing?

After dinner, Xia Zhuxi prepared to leave, but Xia Jie persuaded them all to take a leisurely stroll before heading back. Xia Zhuxi started to refuse, only for Shen Jingsong to agree, saying she wanted to see the garden where Xia Zhuxi had played as a child.

Pei Ziying let out a cold sneer.

Along the way, she didn’t even register Xiao Yun trying to talk to her.

As dusk deepened into night, Xia Zhuxi went to fetch the car.

Shen Jingsong bid her farewells and exited the garden. Pei Ziying lingered in the shadows beneath the tree.

Shen Jingsong strode past without a glance, her expression icy.

“Don’t deceive Xia Zhuxi.”

Shen Jingsong turned at the words, catching sight of half of Pei Ziying’s face veiled in tree shadows under the streetlamp.

It was a beauty so intense and flamboyant it seized the eye.

A smug arrogance clung to the corner of her mouth, impossible to erase.

“My little sister is naive—easy to fool.” Pei Ziying met her gaze and smiled. “But I’m not.”

Shen Jingsong gave a faint smile of her own. “What are you trying to say?”

Pei Ziying stared her down.

More than a decade had passed since she’d last looked so deeply into those eyes from this close.

Just like that summer.

Scorching heat waves rolling in, fiery red roses bursting into bloom.

“Leave Xia Zhuxi, and I’ll give you the female lead in my movie.”

“Pei Ziying!”

Xiao Yun stormed up from behind, livid.

She shoved Pei Ziying hard and jabbed a finger toward Shen Jingsong. “If you give her the lead, what about the actress I recommended? Her agency’s boss took me out to dinner, the contract’s already drafted—and now you’re telling me you’re swapping her out? Where does that leave my reputation?!”

Shen Jingsong turned away, the corners of her mouth lifting.

People really ought to prioritize their health.

Live long enough, and you’d witness every kind of absurd drama.

Warm white headlights swept across the bushes, softening Shen Jingsong’s features as she approached the gleaming golden Aston Martin.

Xia Zhuxi hopped out to open the door for her, glancing at the commotion under the tree. “What’s going on?”

Pei Ziying brushed off the wailing Xiao Yun. “Stop making a scene! I’m doing this to boost my sister-in-law’s acting career—for the good of the whole family. 《Love Saint》 has dual female leads. She can play one, and the actress you recommended can play the other.”

Xia Zhuxi frowned, her mind flashing back to Shen Jingsong’s scathing review of Pei Ziying’s script: utter garbage.

She drew Shen Jingsong into her arms and asked gently, “Darling, do you want to play the lead in 《Love Saint》?”

Shen Jingsong shook her head, looping her arm through Xia Zhuxi’s and leaning quietly against her. “Wife, I want to go home.”

They turned and climbed into the car, missing the stunned fury that cracked across Pei Ziying’s stunning face like a fissure.

Shen Jingsong raised the window. “It’s really awful.”

Xia Zhuxi buckled her seatbelt. “《Love Saint》?”

Shen Jingsong wrinkled her nose in disgust. “So tacky and lowbrow. Is she writing about herself? Who’d rush to star in something like that?”

Xia Zhuxi shrugged. “To each their own.”

The city lights glittered in the night.

Shen Jingsong glanced in the rearview mirror, taking in the sight of herself and Xia Zhuxi. “Tomorrow, we’ll check out the wedding venue.”

Xia Zhuxi nodded. “Sounds fun.”

Shen Jingsong narrowed her eyes. “Fun, fun.”