Chapter 40

During dinner, Xia Zhuxi was utterly distracted.

A unfamiliar chain adorned Shen Jingsong’s left wrist—a delicate porcelain pendant and a warm jade one, both catching the restaurant lights with subtle sparkles.

Its clasp was particularly unique, even given a romantically evocative name: 【Fated Buckle】.

The bracelet was beautiful.

Xia Zhuxi didn’t like it one bit.

The dynamics between girls could be so delicate. Friends could hold hands or share a hug without issue.

It was just a bracelet, after all—a perfectly ordinary gesture, and one with a legitimate excuse to boot…

Legitimate—

A clasp that distinctive had to be patented. Surely the official website had instructions on how to use it? And wasn’t there a product manual in the jewelry box? Besides, you could demonstrate fastening it without actually putting it on someone’s wrist. Why use Shen Jingsong’s hand specifically?

Xia Zhuxi refused to believe there was no official guide for the Fated Buckle.

She pulled out her phone and searched. Sure enough, designer Yao Yao had an official site, and right on the homepage were five bold characters: 【Fated Buckle Details】.

She’d been right—there was one. Ding Jia really was a thoughtful friend, sparing Shen Jingsong the effort of looking it up herself and putting it on for her personally. Xia Zhuxi curled her lip in sullen dissatisfaction.

The website had an antique aesthetic, showcasing Han-style fashion pieces. A row of category tags lined the footer, and Xia Zhuxi checked every one. No jewelry in sight.

Yao Yao’s jewelry really was sold only rarely—Ding Jia hadn’t lied about that.

Shen Jingsong had given her a choker, so she ought to return the favor with some jewelry. Actually, one piece wouldn’t cut it; she’d need at least two, one for each wrist. Now that there was a new bracelet in the mix, the old ones would have to go.

Xia Zhuxi scooped up some milk-orange tom yum soup with her ladle, her knuckles twitching faintly as her gaze drifted to her ring finger. The base of it was pale and bare.

Utterly empty.

The ladle sliced through the broth, sending ripples across the surface. Xia Zhuxi’s reflection wavered faintly within them. For a moment, she felt dazed, her mind drifting back to her bride holding her hand, slipping the wedding ring onto her finger…

“Xiao Xi, have some shrimp.”

Xia Zhuxi looked up. Shen Jingsong’s expression was gentle, her sleeve rolled back to reveal her fair wrist. She offered a piece of shrimp dripping with soup via her chopsticks, the bracelet swaying with porcelain and jade glinting.

“Alright. Sister Jingsong, you have some too.” Xia Zhuxi caught it in her bowl and reciprocated with a piece of shellfish. She chewed slowly, the mild spiciness and sour tang seeping into her mouth—and souring her heart just a touch.

She kept her eyes on her bowl and spoon, determined not to catch her reflection in the gleaming metal utensils or glimpse any other porcelain or jade shimmer.

Shen Jingsong had invited her to this meal with such cheer, but it wasn’t turning out to be much fun. The mood hung heavy and stifled.

Sensing as much, Shen Jingsong tried to liven things up. “Xiao Xi, how was the show today? Did you enjoy it?”

Xia Zhuxi tugged her lips into a smile. “It was great.”

Shen Jingsong studied her face. “You don’t seem all that excited. Are you feeling okay?”

Xia Zhuxi paused for a beat before replying mildly, “I’m fine. This restaurant’s nice and quiet.”

It was an excuse she gave herself—a way to save face. The serene ambiance just naturally meant less chatter, awkward as the silence might be. Better than nothing, at least.

Island music swirled through the rainforest-themed restaurant.

A server wearing a large flower crown brought out vibrant cakes just as a lively drumbeat faded away, drawing the curtain on their muted dinner.

After settling the bill, the server bowed them out. Shen Jingsong, Silver Moon Bag in hand, approached Xia Zhuxi while the staff cleared the table behind them.

“Sister Jingsong, anywhere else you’d like to go?” It wasn’t too late yet; the lingering sunset laid long golden streaks across the streets.

Shen Jingsong’s eyes softened, her lips parting slightly. A fleeting image flashed in her mind—the server clearing the dishes, neatly extracting a single, untouched shrimp from the bottom of Xia Zhuxi’s bowl.

It was the one she’d given her. Throughout the entire meal, Xia Zhuxi hadn’t touched a single black tiger prawn. And that lone one in her bowl… she hadn’t eaten it either.

“Sister Jingsong?”

Shen Jingsong’s gaze flickered with momentary turmoil before steadying. She curved her lips into a soft, charming smile, sidled close to Xia Zhuxi, and hooked her arm deeply through hers. “I wonder if I might have the honor of inviting Xia God out for some karaoke?”

~~~

They didn’t go far—just to the clubhouse in Silver Moon Bay.

The community clubhouse offered plenty of entertainment options, but Xia Zhuxi had only ever used the gym. It took following Shen Jingsong to learn where the KTV rooms were.

Shen Jingsong moved with practiced ease, swiping her membership card to book the most luxurious private room. A server would bring drinks and fruit platters shortly.

Xia Zhuxi watched her pull out the electronic card, her lashes lifting. “When did you get that?”

Shen Jingsong turned to her with a smile. “A few months back—the day Shang Mingrong was waiting for Lu Guanlan.”

Xia Zhuxi nodded.

As the server led the way, Xia Zhuxi suddenly asked Shen Jingsong, “Was it this room last time too?” The time with Shang Mingrong.

The server shot her a puzzled glance, but Shen Jingsong waved him onward and explained to Xia Zhuxi, “This is my first time booking a full KTV room. Last time, it was the mini KTV out in the lobby.” She pointed toward the claw machines, where two fully transparent singing booths stood—completely visible from every angle—with a cashier stationed right beside them.

Xia Zhuxi fell silent.

Shen Jingsong’s gaze softened. Yet the gentler her attitude became, the more bitter Xia Zhuxi felt inside. Suddenly, she found herself narrow-minded and ridiculous, inexplicably fixating on the smallest details.

The more she tried to shake off that pettiness, the more fiercely the whirlpool in her heart churned, leaving her with nowhere to vent.

The private room door clicked shut, and the timer began.

Overhead spotlights whirled, casting colorful light spots that danced across the walls and carpet.

Shen Jingsong asked Xia Zhuxi what she wanted to sing and tapped selections into the machine. But Xia Zhuxi chose only a few songs; for most of the time, it was Shen Jingsong doing the singing.

Xia Zhuxi specially called the waiter for a pot of Fat Sea Monk Fruit Tea, warming it before handing it to Shen Jingsong. Autumn had brought more wind and dust, and Shen Jingsong was prone to coughing at the best of times. Singing would only strain her voice further, so Xia Zhuxi fretted over her throat.

Shen Jingsong favored ancient-style ballads. Sometimes she would play classical folk tunes instead, leaning back to listen and rest, while Xia Zhuxi poured her a cup of tea to soothe her throat.

Shen Jingsong’s breaths came light and uneven, a faint flush rising to her cheeks from the effort, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She embodied that timeless verse perfectly: “Green brows and rosy cheeks blooming together, a thousand charms and graces without end.”

For no reason at all, Xia Zhuxi recalled that curt “No need.” Her gaze flicked sideways—and she was pierced by the glint of the chain on the hand clutching the microphone.

Even surrounded by a thousand delicate beauties and endless tenderness, Xia Zhuxi tamped down her turbulent heart, not daring to spare it another glance.

Toward the end, Xia Zhuxi started picking more songs. For one thing, Shen Jingsong seemed exhausted. For another, she had gradually let her emotions flow free as she sang.

“Sister Jingsong, can I have a little drink?” Xia Zhuxi asked. Ever since the incident with Kristin, she had rarely touched alcohol. Out of habit, she sought Shen Jingsong’s permission first.

Shen Jingsong said nothing. She simply uncapped a bottle of Islay with the opener, tilted her head back for a sip, and passed it over.

Xia Zhuxi stared at the bottle’s mouth for a long moment. The light brown glass gleamed pristine; Shen Jingsong hadn’t touched up her lipstick since dinner. Clutching the bottle, Xia Zhuxi took several cool gulps. The jumble of her thoughts washed away, and she selected a fierce, belting song. She threw herself into it, heedless of anything else, as if sealed inside a box containing only herself.

A closed-off, shadowed box—one that couldn’t be opened from within, and that no one cared to pry apart from without. Stubborn. Awkward.

When she finished, she collapsed back into the sofa, eyes fixed on the fading outro still playing. She squeezed them shut hard. It stung.

The scoring screen faded, and the display returned to the song selection menu.

A cute virtual mascot bounced onto the screen, chirping a reminder: the queue was empty—pick your next song quick~

Xia Zhuxi turned. “Sister Jingsong, one last song? What’ll it be?”

“Kiss Me.”

Her fingertip froze. She could hear her own heartbeat thundering, vibrating the eardrums deep in her ears. Xia Zhuxi turned slowly. Shen Jingsong lifted her left hand and deftly unfastened the Fated Buckle. She tossed the bracelet aside and looked back over her shoulder—still waters running deep.

Her lips were full.

Shen Jingsong’s eyes held quiet expectation. She waited a beat, then smiled faintly at Xia Zhuxi’s blank stare.

She rose and leaned across Xia Zhuxi, typing into the search bar.

It was the name of a song.

Xia Zhuxi remained seated, ignoring the microphone on the table. Shen Jingsong reached around her hand, gently easing the mic free. She brought it to her lips, tested the sound, and after a moment, a clear, ethereal voice poured forth:

Found my way through the stars（Under the starry sky, groping forward）

If I could reach to your heart（How wonderful it would be if I could walk into your heart）

Kiss me before sunrise (Kiss me before sunrise)

My love found a place (My love has finally found its home)

~~~

The melody was graceful, Shen Jingsong’s voice otherworldly.

Xia Zhuxi sat amid the swirling neon lights, no longer bothered by their clamor. Instead, she felt as if she were beneath a vast, clear starry sky, the galaxy murmuring as it flowed overhead.

The first verse ended, giving way to a gentle, swaying interlude. Shen Jingsong watched the music video onscreen: two animated girls hand in hand on a pink street, dancing beneath a golden sunset. The backing track guided seamlessly into the next part.

As the rhythm built, Shen Jingsong raised the microphone and began the second verse.

Her expression was one of utter immersion. She took a step back, then another, inching toward the warmth behind her—as if in the next moment, they would clasp hands and stroll into the twilight streets together, whirling in dance.

Shen Jingsong gazed at the screen’s flood of pink and gold. Xia Zhuxi gazed at her, bathed in hues of light.

The chorus swelled. Shen Jingsong fell silent. On her final backward step, she turned to face Xia Zhuxi. The screen burst into brightness. Backlit by the glow, she slowly lowered the microphone as the soaring accompaniment crested.

“Kiss Me.”

No melody from the song.

No rhythm to the music.

Only the quiver of lips, and the sole reflection in her eyes.

—Do you see who it is, reflected in my gaze?

That face grew steadily larger in the reflection.

The dancing colored lights faded away. A figure shifted downward across the glass coffee table until Shen Jingsong’s calf brushed the edge of the sofa. The cushions tumbled to the floor as the sofa creaked softly beneath them.

It was she who had invited her.

Xia Zhuxi wrapped her arms around Shen Jingsong and pressed her down. The sofa dipped and sprang back. Shen Jingsong’s slender, supple waist arched upward just a touch, grazing the dangling hem of Xia Zhuxi’s clothes. Their body heat rose together, their warm scents intertwining in a heady allure.

In the dewy depths of Shen Jingsong’s eyes, Xia Zhuxi saw her own reflection staring back, her gaze darkening as she tumbled ever deeper. The glistening dampness in those eyes was like a long-overdue spring shower of the heart—palpitations crossing a decade of years, falling soft and relentless upon Xia Zhuxi’s soul.

But the rain soaked more than just her heart. It drenched a deeper, more shameful secret as well. It burned hot. It stirred restlessly. It longed to bloom in fervent ecstasy beneath the downpour of sweet nectar.

Xia Zhuxi sank lower and lower, pursuing the heat of Shen Jingsong’s breath.

Right there, beneath her lips.

Listening to the grand crescendo of heartbeats.